Ksy - Tumblr Posts
helloo >___< this is my first time to do something like thiss so… can you do something like a reaction of seventeen when they kiss their someone and reader responds w “stop i have a bf” as a joke ! i just saw it on tiktok ! i hope u get it t___t
love u and ur works btw!!! thank you for writing <3 keep on slaying ^__^
thank you so much for your request <3 I had so much fun writing this, hope you'll enjoy reading it as well 🫶🏼
kissing prank with seventeen | OT13



☾₊ ⊹ currently playing: Ice Cream by txt
CHOI SEUNGCHEOL
𓆩♡𓆪 You decided to prank him as he was leaving for work, thinking he’d be too distracted to notice. “Okay, see you tonight, honey,” he put a hand on your cheek and gave you a quick peck. “What are you doing? I have a boyfriend.” His brain malfunctioned for a second and he just stood there with furrowed brows and a confused face. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND. I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND.” Turns into a whiny, pouty and ANGRY baby, not liking your prank whatsoever. You had to remind him he’d be late for practice, but he’d not care at all. You’d have to apologise with lots of kisses, but he’d probably still be sulky.
YOON JEONGHAN
𓆩♡𓆪 He’d catch onto your prank immediately. You can’t outdo the doer, period. He walked up to you, as you entered the house, kissing you gently. You tried to put on your best act, as you knew he wasn’t easy to fool. “You can’t kiss me, Hannie. I have a boyfriend,” you said in a hushed tone. He’d simply look at you with a straight face and go “yeah, sure. How was work, by the way?” and walked away, with no reaction at all. You’d be a bit sad that it didn’t work, but still, it’s not like you had big expectations for it to work. Jeonghan would notice your reaction to the failed prank and give you some extra kisses as an apology.
HONG JOSHUA
𓆩♡𓆪 Would be so confused, because he didn’t understand the prank. “Hey darling, what do you want for dinner?” he’d come up to you and peck the corner of your lips. “Joshua!” “What?” “I have a boyfriend, you can’t kiss me.” You could see his brain trying to comprehend what you’d just said. “Well yeah, I’m your boyfriend?” he’d say and give you a confused look. You’d just roll your eyes and try to explain the prank. At first he’d think that you meant that your relationship was a prank, which made you facepalm yourself. “Forget it. Let’s order dinner.”
WEN JUNHUI
𓆩♡𓆪 Please, it would make him so upset. You were watching a TV show, and at some point he leaned in to give you a sweet kiss. “Stop, I have a boyfriend,” you said, trying your best to keep a straight face. “Oh, okay,” he’d say and turn his gaze away from you. It would take him a couple of seconds to understand what exactly you’d just said. He’d scoff at you and scoot to the other edge of the couch, to get as far away from you as he possibly could. “That wasn’t funny,” he’d say and cross his arms, like an angry child. You’d laugh at his reaction and throw yourself at him, hugging him tightly.
KWON SOONYOUNG
𓆩♡𓆪 “Get away from me, Soonyoung. I have a boyfriend.” Would be up and ready to fight your imaginary boyfriend. Wouldn't care and wouldn’t listen to you trying to explain that it was just a silly prank, taking it WAY too seriously. It would take some time for him to calm down and listen to you, finally understanding that you didn’t mean what you said. He’d try to give you a silent treatment for making fun of him, but would give up after seeing your upset expression.
JEON WONWOO
𓆩♡𓆪 Another one that you cannot prank. You’d be at a dinner with your friends, and when he made sure that no one was paying attention, gave you a quick peck on your lips. “Wonwoo, you can’t do that. I have a boyfriend,” you’d try to sound as offended as you could. You’d also give yourself right away, as you started laughing at his unbothered and slightly annoyed expression. He'd probably give you a side eye as well, finding your little prank silly and pointless. “You’re so bad at this, it’s almost hilarious.” In the end, he’d have to apologise in kisses, as you accused him of being mean to you.
LEE JIHOON
𓆩♡𓆪 Kissing pranks on Jihoon is like one of the worst ideas ever, you’re not sure what exactly had gotten into you. It would be on one of the rare occasions where he would kiss out of his own will. “Stop,” you’d put a hand on his chest. “I have a boyfriend.” His face would go blank, no emotions apparent whatsoever. He’d roll his eyes at you and smirk with a head shake. “You seriously thought this would work?” he’d ask. “No?” Lesson learned, never try to prank Jihoon.
XU MINGHAO
𓆩♡𓆪 One of the many drama queens. “You look adorable today,” he’d giggle and kiss you lovingly. “Stop Hao, I have a boyfriend,” you’d say and push him away. The second these words left your mouth, his jaw dropped and his eyes widened in disbelief. At first he wouldn't be able to say anything, being taken aback with your words, but would throw a tantrum right after. He’d gesticulate with his hands in annoyance and get so petty with you, making you taste your own medicine. Would probably ignore you for the rest of the day, until he started to miss you.
KIM MINGYU
𓆩♡𓆪 You loved tricking Mingyu, as he almost never caught up to the fact that he was being pranked. He’d kiss you before going to bed, already half asleep. “I have a boyfriend, Mingyu, you can’t just kiss me.” you’d say in a worried tone, making his eyes go wide in surprise. “Oh, right. Sorry,” he’d say and waddle to the bedroom. You’d stay in the same place, crossing your arms and waiting for him to realise. “YOU HAVE A WHAT?” he’d yell from the bedroom. Would be so sad and sulky after, you’d have to be the small spoon for the night, reassuring you that he’s your one and only.
LEE SEOKMIN
𓆩♡𓆪 Don’t do this to him. Just don’t. He’d lean to give you a peck, but you’d stop him before he could reach you. “I’m sorry, but I have a boyfriend.” He’d give you an apologetic look and say that it’s okay. He was about to continue what he was doing before, but as he saw your eyes welling up in tears from trying to hold in your laughter, he would understand he was being pranked. He would jokingly start yelling at you, and whine that you’re just being mean to him. You wouldn’t be able to resist his cute expression and kiss his lips and cheeks in a silent apology.
BOO SEUNGKWAN
𓆩♡𓆪 Another drama queen. “Stop this Seungkwan. I have a boyfriend, you can’t kiss me.” Would throw hands and whine until you didn’t apologise and even then he would still be SO petty. Would not return any of your affection for the rest of the day, side eyeing you constantly and scoffing at everything you’d say. If anyone asked what was wrong, he'd spend the next ten minutes complaining how annoying and ungrateful you are. Would not even bother to listen to your explanation, saying right away, that he doesn’t find your pranks funny.
CHWE VERNON
𓆩♡𓆪 No reaction, face blank. He’d plop next to you on the couch, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. “Stop, I have a boyfriend,” you’d distance yourself from him, reaching casually for the snacks laying on the table. Would look at you with a straight face, not amused at all. “Where did you get that from? Tik tok?” He couldn’t help but laugh when he saw your annoyed expression, which meant that in fact yes, you got it from Tik Tok. “Ugh, you’re no fun.” “Sure I am, your pranks just suck.”
LEE CHAN
𓆩♡𓆪 This baby. You heard about the prank from your friends, and you were curious how your boyfriend would react. “I had so much fun today,” he said, as you neared your apartment. He’d stop under one of the post lamps and give you a passionate kiss. You'd push him away “Chan, I have a boyfriend,” you’d say seriously. His heart would break at those words and sadness would appear on his face. “Wha- What do you mean you have a boyfriend?” Seeing his reaction, you wouldn’t have the heart to keep it going and hug him tightly, as you explained that it was simply a prank.
how seventeen react to their s/o falling asleep during pillow talk
requested by anon : "hii how do you think svt would react if you were talking in bed cuddling before sleeping and (pillow talk one of my fave things ever omg) and they were rambling and suddenly they look at you and you're asleep?"
notes: haha this one really is so adorable
masterlist

seungcheol
he's in the middle of trying to give you tips on how to get through a tiring day bc you'd told him you've been having an exhausting week, but when he looks over at you while talking about conversation tactics he sees you've fallen asleep on his shoulder, snuffling quietly in your sleep. he just smiles, soft, putting an arm around you and adjusting you so that you're in a more comfortable position, kissing you on the forehead goodnight
jeonghan
definitely wakes you up. not in a 'startling you awake' kind of way, tho. he just shakes your shoulder gently, whispering that you fell asleep while he was telling you how much he loves him. laughs softly when you murmur blurrily that you didn't mean to, and just kisses your forehead and tells you that it's okay, that he loves you anyway, that he's always going to love you no matter what
joshua
doesn't wake you up, but pretends that he is. pinches your cheek, brushes the hair out of your face, smiling down at your relaxed expression. whispers scoldings to you for falling asleep while he's talking—he's not that boring, you brat—before snuggling next to you and closing his eyes, drifting off to sleep too, the 'i love you' on his tongue and whispered in his dreams
junhui
carries on talking. if he talks for long enough then his voice and what he's saying can enter your brain and it'll influence your dreams right?? he doesn't exactly know the logistics of that, but if he holds you in his arms and keeps talking mindlessly about the random things you did today that made him smile, then hopefully he can make you smile in your dreams too
hoshi
is whispering all "hey >:((( you fell asleep >:(((" even though you literally are, like, asleep. like he said. rambles about how heartbroken he is, bc literally he's here talking about how incredible his day was and now you're asleep??? drifts off with you sleeping on his shoulder and blurred words of "i just really love you okay" on his lips
wonwoo
he's been watching you the entire time, of course he saw when your eyes started drooping and you fell asleep next to him. just smiles and gently gathers you in his arms, closing his eyes against you and preparing to fall asleep too. it's not like you both were talking about anything that important, anyway.
woozi
he wanted you to fall asleep tbh. he came back from work really late and was surprised to find you up, waiting for him. talked to you quietly for a few minutes, but after a moment passes where his question hangs in the air unanswered, he knows you've drifted off. some part of him is touched you stayed up when it's obvious you were so tired, and the other part is exasperated that you stayed up when it's obvious you were so tired
minghao
he's explaining some new philosophical idea he learned that day when he feels your breathing slow beside him, no longer humming in acknowledgement when he pauses. he doesn't say anything about it, just letting his voice peter out naturally, his hand finding your cheek in the darkness to rub a thumb over your cheekbone, soft and fond, making a mental note to tell you about the theory of solipsism later
mingyu
probably falls asleep before you tbh. one minute he's spooning you and telling you about his day, and the next minute, he pauses to take a breath and then suddenly lets out a quiet snore. it makes you laugh, a little, at how suddenly he fell asleep, but you just close your eyes too, his gentle snuffles warm on your neck, his arm a comforting weight over your waist.
dokyeom
pouts to himself, bc he's not that boring is he??? kisses your forehead and promises himself that he's going to sulk and whine the next morning but you wake him up with such a lovely smile saying that you're sorry for falling asleep on him last night :((( and it's so sweet that instantly all thoughts of pouting and whining are out of the window as he just squishes you into a hug
seungkwan
listening to seungkwan talk is just so… relaxing, actually, so it's happened a lot while you're in bed after a long day and he tells you in a soft voice about everything that's happened. he holds you on his chest, arm around your shoulders, and pillow talk with him is basically just him talking you to sleep more than anything else
vernon
hansol is probably the type of guy who wants to hear about your day rather than rambling about his, so you end up falling asleep on him while telling him about the weird thing that your friend did today. your voice gets drowsier, taking longer to continue after you pause, so he just laughs softly and gathers you in his arms, telling you it's okay and you can tell him later, but now it's probably a good idea to go to sleep
chan
notices it the second that you're no longer making little humming noises whenever he takes a break in the middle of what he's saying. looks over to see you, head half buried in the blankets, in deep sleep and just sighs fondly. strokes the hair out of your face, goes "what am i going to do with you?" all sweet and adoring before settling into bed himself, whispering "sweet dreams" before he closes his eyes

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please talk to me about sleepy tired hosh being all pouty and confused and cute
hii, omg this is so cute!
hoshi coming back from the studio just after lunch, tired from long hours of practice and running on low sleep so when he comes to your apartment, heads straight to the shower and crashes into bed for a nap. you let him be because you know how hard he's been working lately and you are busy yourself making dinner for the both of you. when it's dinner time, you go to wake up hoshi, who's sleeping soundly, soft snores leaving his lips, his hair messily and cutely falling over his eyes. you smile as you gently hold his hand, and he instantly holds onto it. you decide to let him sleep, not having to heart to wake him up when he was sleeping so soundly. you go back to the kitchen and start to serve a plate of food for yourself when you hear soft footsteps and an hoshi's arms wrapping around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.
"good morning love", he says, his voice still laced with sleepiness. you chuckle.
"you mean good evening", you say as you turn around to look at him, the look of confusion on his face.
"huh no it's morning baby", he says, pouting ever so slightly.
"hoshi, it's evening, it's dinnertime", you add and he just looks even more confused.
"but it's 8 am", he says throught a frown, his voice soft and he tried to figure out what was going on.
"it's 8 pm", you say.
"no i slept through the whole day right, it felt like that", he adds, caging you between the counter and him as he hugs you again, tighter.
"someone must have had a really really good nap", you say as you hug him back and he sighs, only hugging you tighter.
"but i swear when i saw the time it said 8 am", he adds, not convinced, the pout and confusion even more evident on his face.
you only chuckle in response earning a confused 'what?' from him.
"you're just sleepy and confused and you're so cute right now", you tell, cupping his cheeks and giving them a small squeeze before pecking his lips.
"i swear it was 8 am", he mumbles to you, still not convinced. he's finally convinced when you show up him night sky and the time on his phone again and he just tells you again how it said 8 am and his phone was tricking him or something.
The Athlete

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: footballer!Hoshi x journalist!reader
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, slight angst, smut, sports au, strangers to lovers au, slow burn-ish
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: R (18+)
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, kissing, throat grabbing, slight choking, oral (m and f receiving), (semi-rough face fucking) fingering, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, missionary, nipple play, dirty talk, praising, mentions of parental death, bit of a tear jerker
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 6.2k
𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You are assigned to do an interview with Kwon Soonyoung, the trailblazing athlete everyone calls Hoshi. But as you spend more time with him, you start to see there are more layers to him than football.
𝐀𝐍: A massive thank you to @wordycerty for reading this for me and reassuring me about this. This is the longest fic I have written. Also thank you to @playmetheclassics for reading over a bit of this as well. Appreciate you guys ❤

“Mr. Kwon is ready to see you now.” You get up from your seat, stretching a little before following the little woman named Helen in front of you. She leads you down a massive hallway full of sports memorabilia, making small conversation along the way. This isn’t your first time here; the enormous stadium was built five years ago with enough money to feed the homeless for ten years. Sometimes you are here to watch a football game, but you are mostly here on business.
You are a journalist working for the country’s most prominent television broadcasting company at the top of your field. You’ve met many celebrities in your area, some of whom you have become close to. Unfortunately, you have also met some not-so-nice ones, but fortunately, in your line of work, you don’t have to deal with them unless they come to you via their company. You love your job, and today you will interview the hot shot athlete from The Tigers, Kwon Soonyoung, known nationwide as Hoshi.
Keep reading
Bluff and Nonsense - she/her ver.

genres: romance, angst, some fluff, university au, not a fake dating au pairing: female reader x hoshi words: 17.0k (01:08) warnings: cursing, alcohol notes (orig, 2020): "so the title is fluffy and this was a title fic, but then it ran away on me. I really like this one so... yeah. Enjoy!” update, 2023: this is the she/her version of Bluff and Nonsense. other than the pronouns, nothing else has been changed. you can find the original they/them version here, and the he/him version here
“Soonyoung? Yeah I know him, you should too. He’s on the uni’s dance crew, and ever since he joined them, their popularity’s skyrocketed. I’ve met him a few times, great guy — got a tendency to run his mouth but hey, no one’s perfect. He’s smart anyways, probably knows how to deal with the consequences, right?”
or
Soonyoung never thought one bluff could lead to so much nonsense.

Kwon Soonyoung is a man of many talents. He’s the guy who could fit a whole orange in his mouth in fourth grade, the guy who always knew how to make the social studies teacher talk about his divorce instead of the world wars, and the guy who brought a live pigeon to school with no one questioning him whatsoever. He’s also the head choreographer of the university’s dance crew — you barely knew there was a dance crew until he showed up with his hand-drawn posters — as well as a totally well-rounded fine arts major. C’mon, who takes a chemistry course in the fine arts? Kwon Soonyoung, apparently.
Of his many talents though, lying is not one of them.
Which is why, when asked if he likes anyone, Soonyoung says your name instead of simply saying “no” (a much better option in hindsight). He actually likes a girl on his dance crew. Cute, funny, has those eyes you can just get lost in — lord knows Soonyoung has. But, at this relatively quiet party, with half the guests crowded on Seungcheol’s couch and the other half on the disgusting carpeted floor of his apartment, Soonyoung can’t admit his real crush because she’s sitting just a few feet away.
It wouldn’t be such a bad lie if you weren’t also sitting a few feet away.
You’re on your phone when he says your name in his heartbeat-induced panic, but you look up at the sound of it, as does Seungkwan, who was reading something on your phone from the beanbag chair you’re both sitting in.
A chorus of low, teasing ‘ooh’s rises throughout the room, almost like it’s eighth grade again and Soonyoung just got called down to the office. Except now, he might actually be in trouble. He gets a few claps on the back from his friends close enough to reach, commending him on his bravado even though he doesn’t deserve it. Really, the whole situation only dawns on Soonyoung after 6.8 seconds, which is a bit too long considering he made the situation in the first place. Blood rushes to his cheeks, not because of the alcohol in his red cup he’s yet to drink, but because you’re looking right at him, and he has no idea what to do.
Soonyoung doesn’t know you very well. In fact, he’d almost say he doesn’t know you at all.
You’re Seungkwan’s friend from one of his classes — computing science, if Soonyoung remembers correctly, but he’s not totally confident. The only reason you came tonight is because of Seungkwan. You don’t know anyone else.
With a tilt of your head, your face scrunches with question, and you look to Seungkwan for help. You know Soonyoung said your name, but you missed hearing the context. It looks like Seungkwan missed it too, seeing as the conversation you two have only makes your brow furrow more as the room chatter picks back up. Everyone else is already over Soonyoung’s sudden confession when Jeonghan starts talking about something else.
Except Soonyoung’s friends, of course. That would be too easy.
Mingyu turns to him with a stupid smile, his cheeks red from both the free opportunity to tease his upperclassman and the light beer he’s been sipping and pretending to get buzzed on all night. He nudges Soonyoung with his shoulder where they sit on the floor, leaning in to speak under the conversations surrounding them. “You didn’t tell me you like her,” he says, the jesting tone in his voice clearer than water.
“Yeah...” Soonyoung doesn’t know why he doesn’t just retract his confession, it’s not like Mingyu is close to you or anything, he’d understand. But then again, he’s bad at lying, and the girl he likes is still sitting on the couch. He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s sort of a recent thing.”
Mingyu’s smile only widens at Soonyoung’s response, his eyes turning to slits with the rise of his cheeks. “Soonie’s in looove~!”
And Soonyoung doesn’t know what to say. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before, not exactly like this, anyways. So he just looks down, scratches the back of his neck again, looks at one of his dance crew friends when she calls his name.
He doesn’t dare glance your way for the rest of the night.
Turns out you do know someone else other than Seungkwan, because once most of the guests have cleared out, leaving only half the boys to clean up, Seokmin approaches Soonyoung as he scrubs the sink of whatever that weird green stuff is.
He asks how Soonyoung knows you and says off-handedly that he’s never even seen the two of you talk. (Which is right.) He says these things shouldn’t be joked about, that you’re a person with feelings, and Soonyoung should leave you alone if he’s just doing this for comedy’s sake.
Soonyoung thinks he’s never seen Seokmin so serious.
It’s probably fine. You haven’t said anything good or bad, and other than the occasional tease from his friends, no one has taken anything too far. Maybe you’ll forget about it tomorrow. Maybe he’ll forget about it tomorrow, and it will all be okay.
Besides, it’s not like he actually likes you. And his real secret is still safe and sound.
•
Of Soonyoung’s many talents, making people sad is also not one of them.
It’s not that he actively tries to cause misery only to fail, it’s that he can’t stand upsetting anyone. He’s a people-pleaser by nature, that’s just how it is.
So he doesn’t say no when you ask him out for coffee.
And he smiles at you when you try to make conversation, even though it’s awkward and hesitant despite having a mutual friend like Seungkwan. It’s not so bad, he thinks. You’re trying, at least, and when you ask him about his interests, you actually listen, which isn’t common when he tends to over-explain his love for dance and performance. He has a coffee in his hand too, so that’s a plus.
You ask him if what he said at the party was true, and something in your eyes makes him say yes.
•
There are a few more coffee dates after that. It’s nothing official, and Soonyoung is hesitant to call the meetups “dates” because he’s not interested in dating you. But it’s a little late for that.
You seem brighter, though, every time he sees you again; he can’t bring himself to take that away, to cut the cord, to clean this mess he made.
Something about the way you two talk is nice, at least. Soonyoung can’t quite put his finger on it, and he tells himself that’s what’s drawing him back every time, not the guilt he feels sunken in his ribcage whenever you smile his way. It’s not that deep, he repeats to himself whenever you wave to him on campus, making him feel obligated to walk you to class. It’s not that deep.
He’s in the library one day when he spots you at one of the tables, books open and spread out as you scribble down notes, a pair of earbuds dangling from your ears. You haven’t seen him, so he doesn’t try to approach, just ducks back behind the bookshelf he’s been exploring. His hand is on a book he might like when a voice stops him.
“You know you’re an idiot, right?”
Minghao leans against the opposite bookshelf, his arms crossed, locked and loaded for judgement. Soonyoung looks around, but of course he’s talking to him. They’re the only ones in the row.
“Um, how do you want me to answer that?” he asks, unsure of exactly what Minghao’s talking about. Yeah, he knows he’s a bit dense sometimes, but not all the time.
Minghao rolls his eyes. “I know you like Sehee. You haven't stopped laughing like an idiot at her bad jokes." He nods his chin outwards, gesturing over Soonyoung's shoulder and through the bookshelves towards where you're sitting. "What are you doing messing with Seungkwan's friend?"
It’s not too surprising that Minghao knows — he’s an intuitive guy, but Soonyoung is still caught off guard. He asks first, under his breath, “Does anyone else know?”
“If you mean dumb and dumber, then no.” Minghao jerks his head to swing his dark bangs out of his eyes. Everyone keeps telling him to just cut his hair shorter, but he refuses for the aesthetic, or something. “Chan is way too focused on dancing to notice your dumbassery, and Jun is about as observant as a fishcake when it comes to feelings.”
Soonyoung’s shoulders fall in relief, though he didn’t even realize they’d tensed up.
“But that’s not the problem here. Why are you playing around with her if you’re into Sehee?”
“I’m not—” Soonyoung pauses, thoughts deliberate, “—I’m not playing around, okay? I just... I don’t know. You were all looking at me, and I couldn’t just say Sehee's name, she was right there!”
Minghao cocks an eyebrow at that. “But you could say hers?”
“It was a moment of weakness.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I’m aware.”
Soonyoung groans quietly — he’s still in a library after all. He covers his face with both hands, not wanting to look at Minghao nor have Minghao look at him. For a second, it’s blissful, awkward silence, which Soonyoung would take over Minghao’s scolding any day. But of course, no haven lasts forever.
“You’re gonna have to tell her,” Minghao says, and he’s probably right. No, he is right, Soonyoung just doesn’t want him to be.
“I can’t do that! I said I like her— twice!”
“Twice?”
“Twice!”
Minghao only drops his head for a second, scoffing at the whole situation. Soonyoung wishes he could do that too, just laugh it off because it’s someone else’s problem.
“Well, you’re going to have to say something sooner or later.” Meeting his eyes, Soonyoung realizes Minghao might actually be worried. About you, or him, or something else, he’s not sure, but the subtle fold of Minghao’s eyelids tells Soonyoung this is about more than just calling out idiocy. “And I think sooner will hurt less.”
Soonyoung knows he’s right. But he doesn’t like it.
Before he can come up with a rebuttal, though, Minghao’s hands are on Soonyoung’s shoulders, and he’s pushing him out of the row of bookshelves and straight towards your table.
“You can do it, Soonyoung, just rip the band-aid while you still can,” he whispers in Soonyoung’s ear right before one last push at his back.
Soonyoung stumbles a bit, but once he regains his footing, Minghao’s already gone and you’ve already noticed the ruckus. You pull one earbud out with a bright smile. It’s so jovial that Soonyoung almost forgets why he’s here.
“Hi Soonyoung, I didn’t see you come in,” you say, and there’s no way you’re this energized just from studying in a library.
“Uh... hi.”
“You’ve actually got the perfect timing.” Waving to him, you gesture for him to sit next to you, and he does. You pull out some sort of planner, opening it to a few months from now. “I wanted to ask when exactly your showcase is? Seungkwan’s no help at all because he only cares about his concerts and stuff. Honestly, there aren’t that many...”
You’re going to have to say something sooner or later.
Soonyoung picks later.
•
“So when are you gonna ask her out?”
Jihoon stands in front of the stove, watching his hot water simmer, a bag of dry ramen in one hand and long cooking chopsticks in the other. It’s Soonyoung’s turn to make dinner tonight, but since he says he isn’t hungry, Jihoon’s scrounging it out himself.
Soonyoung, on the other hand, sits at their tiny dinner table, his forehead pressed to the cool surface, arms hanging limp at his sides. He mumbles something of a response, but it’s nothing more than a questioning grunt, if anything.
“Oh, you know.” Even when Jihoon says your name, Soonyoung stays still. “Only the girl you’ve been on several “dates” with ever since you confessed to her at Seungcheol’s party. When are you gonna ask her on a real date?”
Tired, Soonyoung groans. “When the time is right, I guess.”
•
You work on campus. It’s some part-time job you don’t care about enough to even complain over, despite the fact that you have to deal with annoying university kids every day. Soonyoung finds this out when he has coffee with Minghao in one of the buildings he doesn’t normally frequent, and only goes to today since Minghao has a class nearby in the next hour.
The coffee isn’t great, and it’s too expensive, but Soonyoung drinks it anyways. He much prefers the coffee from the cafe he goes to with you. Because the coffee is better. Obviously.
He hears your voice first, words indiscernible with distance and overshadowed by a much louder, angrier one, but still. Minghao sees you first, though, and he points past Soonyoung to the student printing center, where you’re standing behind the counter and arguing with some guy. You don’t seem too riled, but Soonyoung can tell you want to be anywhere but there, especially when the angry guy’s voice keeps getting louder and louder.
Soonyoung’s feet bring him over before his brain can register what to do. You haven’t seen him yet, he could just walk away, but he doesn’t. Your voice becomes clearer as he approaches.
“Listen, the printing center is for education, art, or business. I can’t print this for you.”
The guy goes off about personal freedoms or whatever, Soonyoung isn’t really listening.
“No, I get that this is a student printing center, but I really don’t think your big tiddie anime gf poster has anything to do with education, art, or business.”
And that’s when the guy grabs your arm. Which results in Soonyoung grabbing his arm. Which results in the accusatory question, “What are you, her boyfriend or something?”
Now, in a perfect story, this would be the first time Soonyoung meets you. Or maybe you’ve been close friends for a while. And this would be when Soonyoung says that, yes, he is your boyfriend, and he would save the day. Except you’d be all “why would you do that?” which would result in you both having to fake date to keep that guy off your back. In this perfect story, there would be no Sehee to like and no Minghao to judge, just you and Soonyoung fake dating. Eventually, you’d both catch real feelings instead of fake ones, and then boom, happily ever after.
But this isn’t a perfect story.
Soonyoung still says yes, and the guy still backs off. In reality though, because Soonyoung never thinks before he lies, you momentarily duck behind the counter and bring a hand up to your face to cover your ever-brightening smile. In reality, Sehee still exists at the forefront of his mind every dance practice, even though you’re the one he just promptly claimed to be the boyfriend of. In reality, Minghao watches from a little ways away, sipping his coffee and shaking his head in what can only be called disappointment.
Soonyoung’s never been good at lying. One would think he’d stop by now.
•
So, it’s official.
You’ve put a heart next to his contact name. He’s put one next to yours — red, because he doesn’t know your favourite colour. Seungkwan’s done the whole if you break my friend’s heart I break you spiel and Soonyoung finally realizes he’s in too deep.
It's almost too natural, how easily you bring him into your life and how easily he finds himself fitting. It's all so wrong.
Soonyoung feels like an imposter, like there's someone meant to be by your side, but it's not him.
You pluck up the courage one day to hold his hand, and he can't pull away because the lies tying him to you are too strong. The small bluffs he's spun have weaved themselves into a net he's tangled himself in.
His dance crew congratulates him when Jun spills the news. It's all mundane, really — dating in university isn't all that uncommon. Mostly, Soonyoung gets casual "you go, dude" comments or the like, but then Sehee says nothing. She smiles, and it has to be one of the most tragically beautiful things Soonyoung's ever seen. His heart fractures, just a little, and he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to fix it.
He smiles it off. Tries to, anyways.
Chan complains that Soonyoung's too harsh that day.
•
Jihoon likes you.
Not in a "Mister Steal Yo' Girl" way, but he laughed at one of your jokes the first time you came over to Soonyoung's apartment, and ever since then, he's been convinced.
"You must feel like the luckiest guy on earth with her around," Jihoon says once you leave for the night.
Soonyoung has no idea how to tell him he's felt nothing but unlucky these past few weeks, so he doesn't.
•
He polishes up on his acting. As awful as it is to think, Soonyoung has gotten really, really good.
His smile looks genuine. It has to — he shows it to Minghao, who says it's "adequate," which basically means perfect to the lowly humans beneath him.
He's gotten good at responding to you too, copying how the male leads do it in dramas and movies. It's sort of easy.
He hates how easy it is.
Soon enough, you try befriending the whole group. Being Seungkwan's friend, you've always wanted to, but apparently this is the push you needed. The boys are quick to warm up to you because, as Soonyoung's new girlfriend, you're now a new teasing target besides Chan. The youngest was always the brunt until you came along.
You say you don't mind — that his friends are amazing despite all the jokes and chaos. He believes you.
Minghao keeps his distance, saying he doesn't want to get himself involved. He's still the only one to know the truth, and his judging stare only grows worse as the days pass. Soonyoung wants so badly to make it go away, but he knows the only way to do that would be to tell you the truth, and he's just not ready.
Soonyoung's never broken a heart before. He's never planned on it.
Sometimes life makes its own plans.
"My shift got moved to tomorrow," you tell him when he picks you up from class, one hand in his and the other in your pocket. He knows it means something, but he doesn't know what. Your lips purse into a line as you stare at your shoes. “I was thinking... could I come watch your dance practice? If that’s okay?”
Now, Soonyoung loves dancing. He loves dance. He loves to dance. Performing sends an unparalleled thrill rushing through his veins like the solar system hurtling through the universe, and it’s something he’s never felt doing anything else. Dancing with others is a beautiful connection, an emission of silent truths communicated through the body. Practice, however, is the dirty version of dance. It has to be built up first — polished. Which is why Soonyoung says what he says. He doesn’t even think it over.
“No.”
It’s what he says every time someone asks. He doesn’t invite people to practices — never has. Even after his prompt refusal, he doesn’t register his mistake until the light in your eyes wavers. It doesn't disappear — just ripples. Comes back weaker than before.
"Oh," you say. The word should sound dejected but it doesn't. There's a smile at your lips, and Soonyoung can't help but think it looks kind of like his. "That's— that's okay! I was just — I don't know, I guess I just thought... I wanted to..."
Meeting his gaze, you look at him with shaking eyes, almost as if it takes great strength to keep them on his. He tries to backpedal, but you continue.
"I'll be going home then. I've got an assignment due soon anyways, so..." You pull your hand from his grip and, from where you two were walking toward the fine arts building, turn the opposite way. Your dorm is on the other side of campus. "See you tomorrow, Soonyoung. Have fun at practice."
Something about your smile haunts him.
It's hollow; feels empty when you flash it at him before going. He thinks fake smiles all look like that — insincere. His smiles at you must be the same way.
For an awful moment, he's hopeful. Maybe this will be the trigger. Maybe you'll end this tonight — whatever "this" is that Soonyoung has with you. Maybe he won't have to tell any harsh truths at all.
He turns and walks to practice.
The routine feels lighter tonight, though Soonyoung can’t pinpoint why. His body almost floats, and while that sounds good, it’s not. The rhythm is off. He’s not landing when he should be.
His crew notices, especially Chan, who complains that Soonyoung’s too much of a cocksure choreographer to be making repeated mistakes like this. They tell him maybe everyone should take a break. He agrees, but only because he’s frustrated — and he shouldn’t channel his anger into dance. Not this one, at least.
Everyone spreads throughout the studios to the edges, where they lean their body weight on the walls and slide down, water bottles in hand. The room reeks of sweat and feet, but Soonyoung’s used to it by now. He guzzles down half of his water in one go and pulls out his phone.
[❤] Sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to react all... cold? Seungkwan told me you never invite anyone to practice, so it makes total sense why you said no
[❤] If I’m ever crossing any boundaries, let me know, okay?
Of course you’d be understanding. Soonyoung wouldn’t be that lucky.
He tosses his phone haphazardly in his bag, groaning and throwing his head back so it hits the wall with a dampened thud. The pain is dull compared to the thoughts top-spinning in his mind.
Across the studio, Minghao clears his throat, raising an eyebrow at Soonyoung when he opens his eyes to look at him. It only takes two reluctant nods for Minghao to understand the source of Soonyoung’s groans, and he does nothing to react but look away. Soonyoung thinks that’s almost worse than the judging eyes. At least at that point Minghao thought he was something other than a lost cause.
He doesn’t text you back. By the time he thinks of something a boyfriend would say, the time to say it has passed.
•
How much longer is he going to let this go on?
Soonyoung wonders that to himself as he sits, returned to Seungcheol's apartment for another one of his "getties" as people are so apt to call them. He's never understood the difference between a getty and a party, and he's always been too stubborn to ask, knowing he'd be mercilessly made fun of for not knowing something apparently all university students knew.
This one isn't so different from the last. More or less the same crowd, the same atmosphere as the night goes on. Only this time, when everyone's settled down in what can hardly be called a circle, Soonyoung's on the couch, sunken into the too-old cushions with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. You're far from your last claimed spot with Seungkwan on that ratty old beanbag chair, sitting comfortably under Soonyoung's arm with a plastic cup of whatever Jeonghan concocted for you — which you've yet to drink much of.
Sehee sits across from you both while she laughs at something Wonwoo says. You laugh too, but Soonyoung barely notices, eyes glued to the girl they've been stuck on since she joined his dance crew over a year ago. He wants to tell her how beautiful she is when she smiles, even under the light of Seungcheol's dingy apartment, but he can't. He wants to tell her how he's felt for months, but you're next to him. He wants to have a fucking drink but all he has in his cup is fucking iced green tea because he knows if he drinks he'll fuck up again.
Just like last time.
"You okay?" you whisper in his ear at one point.
He turns to see your concerned expression, and it only makes Soonyoung hate this even more. He doesn't deserve your concern.
"I'm fine."
But he's not fine.
He doesn't participate in much conversation — only speaks when spoken to, and even then with few words. You seem to become tense next to him, but he does nothing to try and fix it. Just tonight, he's going to let himself be tired.
Three times, you offer to leave, and all three he refuses. You give up eventually, though he can tell you know something's off. God, if he were drunk, he wouldn't even have to think about you for a whole night.
Somehow the topic of discussion turns to couples, and suddenly, an entire room of eyes is on you and Soonyoung. He barely catches the question before you're already pondering your answer.
What do the two lovebirds love most about each other?
You look at him. At him, at him. He feels your stare in the dip of his throat because he can't seem to swallow anymore. It's like his soul is being scanned for viruses.
"Hmm..." You let your chin fall into your palm with a smile. It's real. Too real. "I like his resolve," you finally say. "If he wants to do something, he does it." With a loud exhale through your nose, you tilt your head, still meeting his eyes with your own. Soonyoung's mouth slightly parts, slack with something he can't name. "I could learn a thing or two from him."
The room bristles with your answer, various response piping up around. Soonyoung sort of registers Chan saying, "That's cute. I wanna vomit," but he's too busy thinking about you, about how you've come to like something about him as deep as that when all he's done is pretend to even like you at all.
And even when his mind swims with that, Sehee asks again.
"Then Soonyoung, what do you like about her?"
It sort of hurts. Soonyoung's not afraid to admit to himself that hearing Sehee ask what he likes about you sends pain straight through his ears to his heart. There's an awkward pause and everyone's looking at him expectantly and, god, he wishes he stole your drink when he had the chance.
"I..." His throat goes dry. His lips part, but there aren't any words to slip past them. "I, um..." He looks to you, and your eyes speak volumes. Everyone else in this room has a sort of... hungry look. They want to know Soonyoung's answer for one reason or another, maybe to tease with or to ridicule or even wish for themselves. But you, your eyes meet his and he knows you're not expecting anything. That hurts too. He doesn't know why. But even then, he can't think of the words. Any words. He steals a glance at Sehee, whose expression is curious, doe eyes slightly giddy from alcohol. She's pretty.
"I like her laugh," he says. It's not about you. "Whenever she laughs, I think to myself, 'What I wouldn't give to see her laugh again'."
Your eyes move to the plastic cup you've got gripped between two hands in your lap, and Seungkwan points out your flustered state to the entire room despite the fact everyone can see it as long as they've got working eyes. You purse your lips together to contain a smile, but it doesn't work. Even Soonyoung can see that.
He needs a drink.
Having to go to the bathroom is a lousy excuse, and Soonyoung knows it, but he whispers that in your ear anyways and retracts his arm from your shoulder before escaping. He does go to the bathroom, a small thing with a shower and no bath, but all he does in there is stare at himself in the mirror. And when that becomes too much, his feet.
Someone else eventually has to use the bathroom for its actual purpose, so he opens it to the banging fist outside and slides past the person back into the hallway. He pauses before walking all the way back. You're caught up in some other conversation now, laughing and dramatically waving your hands as you deny some crazy embarrassing story Seungkwan's trying to spill about you. Seems you've already integrated yourself with his friends more than he thought.
Since your attention is occupied, Soonyoung instead ducks into the half-kitchen — not necessarily out of sight, but no one's really paying attention anyways. He knows he shouldn't take any chances, but he really, really wants to let go. He's been wearing a facade ever since he said your name that night.
"I wouldn't, if I were you."
Minghao's voice has Soonyoung jerking up and banging his head on the door of the open fridge he was rummaging through. He winces in pain, kneading his fingers into his scalp as if that will do anything.
"Wouldn't what?" he snaps.
"I dunno." Minghao shrugs, and it's almost infuriating how nonchalant he is. "Do something you might regret, I guess."
He takes the yet unopened bottle from Soonyoung's hands, reaching beyond him to put it back in place. There's no point in fighting against him since he's undeniably right, but Soonyoung grumbles anyways. His eyes glance every few seconds to you on the couch. If you happen to hear anything...
Well, he doesn't know exactly. But he doesn't want to find out.
"You have to end it."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I just—" Soonyoung takes in a breath, too loud for his liking. He lowers his voice. "I can't, okay? I don't want to hurt her."
"So you're just going to date her based on false pretenses because you're too much of a coward to admit your mistakes?" Voice laced with sharpness, Minghao places his palms flat on the counter.
Soonyoung takes a deep breath through his nose, lips twisting in frustration. "Yeah, okay? Yeah," he whispers. "That's exactly what I'm gonna do."
A second passes. Minghao's brow furrows.
"And quite frankly," Soonyoung continues, "I'd rather you keep your nosy ass out of my business from now on."
He nearly storms off right then with the last word, but Minghao's fingers around his elbow stop him.
"You're going to get yourself hurt," Minghao warns through his teeth. He nods towards you. "And her in the process."
"We'll see about that."
Soonyoung has acted on impulse before. It happened with the pigeon, it happened with your name, and it's happening right now. Nothing is compelling him other than the absolute need to prove Minghao wrong, and even then, he doesn't know why.
He sits back down next to you, his spot saved by some miracle considering the surrounding company. The look on your face is happy, jovial. You must be having a right old time. His nerves strike with a feeling he's never quite experienced before.
When you study his face, no doubt not nearly as cheerful as yours, the expression you held falters to worry.
"You okay?" is once again the question on your lips, quiet, meant for his ears only.
Impulse is a scary thing. Soonyoung hates it almost as much as lying.
He leans in, crashing his lips on yours with his eyes half closed. His lips move and yours don't. Soonyoung can't even be sure you've closed your eyes, but at this very moment, he doesn't care. All he knows is he's angry and Minghao is watching.
This isn’t your first kiss — he knows because you’ve talked to him about this very topic. This is, however, to your understanding, the first “real” relationship you’ve ever been in. You told him yourself that you don’t really count that past kiss as your first, that you felt a bit... violated when it happened.
Soonyoung thinks this isn’t all too different.
He steals your second first kiss, and later, staring at the water-stained stucco ceiling of his bedroom, he kicks himself so hard it hurts.
•
You show up to movie night. Apparently Jihoon invited you — explained it like this:
“You won’t have to be so clingy with me if she’s here.”
At first, Soonyoung thinks Jihoon just wants to drop their roommate movie nights because he’s always complained about them, but Jihoon sticks around during Anastasia; sings along with you during Once Upon a December despite the fact that neither of you really know the words. He sits right in front of you two on the couch, cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, that of which he only offers to you twice and Soonyoung once.
Whatever. You’re a better cuddler than Jihoon anyway.
Somehow it doesn’t feel forced when you lean your head on Soonyoung’s shoulder, or when he wraps his arm around your waist to get comfortable. He blames it on how tired he is, how he always gets on movie night after a week of classes and practices and too much work for one person to handle. Jihoon complains all the time that he’s too touchy when tired.
You absentmindedly play with his fingers for most of the movie. He doesn’t mind.
It’s been about a month now.
Soonyoung doesn’t kiss you again after the first time. Doesn’t stop you, either, but you’re more of an on-the-cheek kind of person. He thinks you think he wants to take this slow, even though he initiated the first big step (as convoluted as it was). He lets you think what you want.
Nasty business, it is.
Cleaning a bowl that once held popcorn. All the grease that sticks to the side because Jihoon likes to use too much butter. All the grains of salt that get underneath Soonyoung’s fingernails. He’s washing, Jihoon’s drying. It’s an arrangement of sorts.
You’ve already left for the night, gone back to your dorm since it’s only a five minute walk or so through campus. Jihoon insisted on Soonyoung escorting you, but you only smiled sweetly and refused. Maybe Soonyoung should’ve argued harder against you. He didn’t though. That’s why he’s scrubbing a bit too harshly now — he doesn’t like messing up.
Seems that’s all he’s good for lately.
“You’re unhappy.”
Soonyoung stops scrubbing. The only noise in the whole apartment is the slow gurgle of the sink because even with a plug, such an old thing just lets the hot water seep away as the seconds go by. Jihoon’s gaze is on the pan he’s drying, but Soonyoung knows his heart is in the question. It always is.
“I’m not,” he tries to deny, but it’s difficult to fool a person like Jihoon. (Especially since Soonyoung can’t even convince himself.)
The non-stick pan from yesterday’s dinner clangs against an older one when Jihoon puts it away. He looks at Soonyoung, but by then he’s turned back to washing the popcorn bowl, so their eyes don’t end up meeting.
“I’ve known you since tenth grade. You think I can’t tell when you’re upset?”
Soonyoung finds it hard to read Jihoon’s feelings most of the time. He didn’t realize he was such an open book the other way around.
Sighing, he continues to scrub the bowl, which has probably been clean for a minute already. “I’m just... stressed.”
“About?”
Minghao already knows; already thinks lowly of Soonyoung for it. If Jihoon knew... Soonyoung doesn’t know if he can take that.
So he lies. Again.
“Just the dance showcase.”
It isn’t a whole lie, not really, but he can’t call it the truth either.
Jihoon takes the bowl from Soonyoung’s grasp and rinses it under the tap. Since that’s the last dish, Soonyoung is stuck with nothing for his hands to do. They rest on the edge of the sink, but his fingers ache for a task.
Jihoon, the friend that he is, says, “That’s not for three months, though. I’m sure you’ll be perfect by then.”
“I don’t know...”
“Well I do.” Eyes meet eyes, a pair determined, a pair apprehensive. “Everything will work out.”
“...Okay.”
•
Soonyoung measures time in terms of you now.
When he last texted you. When he last saw you. When he last spoke to you.
It’s all a very elaborate calculation — how much time he’s spent on you versus how much time he should spend on you. No relationship is quite like this one, he thinks, and it’s quite the romantic notion out of context. The fact remains, every interaction he has with you only pulls him further and deeper into his lie.
Soonyoung’s time moves a bit slower now.
Faster, sometimes, but only when he doesn’t want it to.
•
You tell him you might be in love with him.
He says he might be in love with you.
He’s never hated lying more.
•
Jihoon is cleaning out the fridge when the buzzer goes off, so since he’s close by, he picks up the old corded phone attached to the wall. From his spot on the couch, Soonyoung looks up from his phone to see Jihoon cover the receiver and mouth your name. Jihoon makes some sort of gesture with his hands, and somehow Soonyoung understands that as, were you expecting her?
His eyes widen as it settles in that no, he’s not expecting you. The apartment is a mess.
Jihoon buzzes you in, hangs up, and immediately moves from the fridge to the coffee table, throwing the laundry he was planning on folding back in the plastic hamper and shoving the pile in Soonyoung’s lap.
“Take care of this,” he says. “I’ll clear up the kitchen.”
Right. Can’t have you thinking your boyfriend and his roommate are slobs.
Soonyoung reacts quickly, standing from his spot on the couch with the laundry basket in hand. He dashes to his room, where he plans to stuff the laundry in his closet and save that problem for later, but once he gets there, he realizes his room is even worse. There are dirty clothes dispersed all over his bed and old coffee cups littering his desk. Scrambling to shove the new laundry in his closet, the dirty clothes in the now empty hamper, and gather all the paper cups in his arms, Soonyoung’s breath starts to catch.
When he emerges from his room with two armfuls of garbage, he finds you at the door with Jihoon, your face hidden in his shoulder and your arms wrapped tight around his waist. Jihoon’s arms are up, almost like he’s being held at gunpoint, and his eyes widen even further when he catches sight of Soonyoung.
“Uhh... it’s for you.”
Soonyoung can hear your quiet hiccups even though they’re muffled in Jihoon’s shirt. He can’t bear it when people cry.
Yeah, maybe he’s been pretending to like you for a long time now, but he’s not a monster.
Right?
He likes you as a person. As a friend. And there’s no way he’s letting his friend go through pain like this.
Soonyoung swiftly discards his trash into the garbage bin and approaches you and Jihoon. At the commotion, you lift your head from Jihoon’s shoulder, eyes all red and puffy. Your lips press together, emotions nearly bursting at the seams, but they finally break out when Soonyoung opens his arms wide.
“C’mere.”
You practically flail into his embrace, arms wrapping around his torso in a vice grip as you hide your face again. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay — he knows you’re not.
Jihoon stands in the doorway for a few seconds, just looking at you and Soonyoung clutching at each other in the middle of the apartment before he shuts the front door and clears his throat.
“I’ll just, uh, I’ll be — um. Mhm. Yup.”
He escapes to his room.
Soonyoung squishes his cheek to your temple as you both stay there. You’re shaking, and his arms squeeze tighter. If only he could make it stop. He doesn’t know what to say or do to make you feel better.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, though quiet and hesitant.
You shake your head, mumbling something he can’t quite make out. He pulls back a bit, just enough to see your face and gently cup your cheeks in his palms. His thumbs rub at your cheeks, smoothing any stray tears across your skin.
“What’s that?”
“Just...” Your eyes glisten. His heart beats. “Could you please just hold me?”
And he does.
Decidedly, his bed is much more comfortable than standing in the living room, so he sways, rocking side to side with small steps that force you to walk backwards. His smile, though, is reassuring, and you follow his guidance without much complaint. He sits you down on his bed, thankful that he cleaned up beforehand, and slowly leans you down so you’re both on your sides, facing each other. Pulling you closer, he lets you rest your head on his chest. Your hand lies flat on top of him, but eventually your fingers curl, clutching a bit of Soonyoung’s shirt between them. Silent tears fall from your eyes to his chest, but he doesn’t care.
His arm underneath you wraps around, hand landing on your back so his thumb can rub soothing circles.
It’s quiet.
Funny. Soonyoung used to dislike silence with you — always felt the need to fill it with conversation or jokes or laughter. He wonders when it was last since he felt that way.
Soonyoung doesn’t know how much time passes. His eyes stick to his bedroom ceiling as he holds you close, thoughts on everything and nothing all at once. Are you asleep? Your tears stopped some time ago.
His question is answered when your voice, small and unsure, breaks the long-standing silence.
“Soonyoung?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I tell you about it?”
He cranes his neck to look at you, but it doesn’t really work. “Of course,” he says. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?”
You sigh. “I don’t know. I just... I don’t want to be a burden.”
“You’re not.”
“I know, but—”
“You’re not.”
You look up at him finally, and seeing your smile sends warmth through his blood. Your face is still looks wrecked from tears gone by, but your smile pushes all that out of the way.
“Thank you,” comes past your lips in a whisper. Then, after a moment of waiting, you say, “It’s just that... I... this — ugh.” You hide your face in his shirt again. “This is so embarrassing. I don’t even know why I got so worked up.”
Soonyoung doesn’t respond to that, just pats your back a few times and encourages you to keep going. You toy with the fabric of his shirt.
“This guy I used to know — I thought I’d never see him again, but he showed up today. Ran into him when I was walking back from the convenience store.” You bite the inside of your lip. “I haven’t thought about him in a long time, but, I don’t know, I guess seeing him just brought all these memories back all at once.”
“Bad ones?”
A breathy laugh escapes you. “Sure, you could say that.”
The silence comes back, and your brows furrow, almost like you’re trying to solve the problem all on your own. But you don’t have to. Soonyoung is here.
“Do you remember when I told you about my first kiss? Like, my real first kiss?”
Soonyoung hums. Of course he remembers.
“Back in high school, I used to have this friend. Sammy. She was — god, she was beautiful. And kind, and smart, and just... amazing. I miss her a lot. She’s abroad now, travelling the world with her sister. I think she’s in Peru now.” You chuckle at the mention of your old friend, but soon your smile twists into a frown. “This guy... I don’t like saying his name, but he liked Sammy. Everyone did, I don’t blame him for that, honestly. He was pretty popular back then — one of those sports boys, you know? Thinking about it now, he could’ve easily gotten with Sammy if he hadn’t been so conniving.”
“Conniving?”
“Yeah, he was... I don’t know how he got the idea in his head, but he came to me first. He kept hanging out with me, taking me on these... dates? But they weren’t really dates, all we did was talk about Sammy — what she liked, what she didn’t like. I knew he was using me, but I just... let him, I guess. Maybe back then I was just so caught up in being needed that I didn’t really mind being used.”
Soonyoung hugs you tighter.
“I guess he felt sorry, maybe? Right before he went to go ask Sammy out, he just... laid one on me. It was stupid. Like a pity kiss for my service or whatever. I wasn’t in love with the guy or anything, but it felt so... degrading. Like all I deserved was some action from a conventionally good-looking guy."
Your tears come back, brimming at the edge of your eyelids.
“I don’t know, it just — it just made me feel so...”
You take a breath. Exhale.
“...worthless.”
Soonyoung doesn’t fail to see the irony here, at least, but he feels slightly lifted. Whoever this guy is, Soonyoung’s a million times better.
“You’re not worthless,” he says — because he knows it’s true.
“I know.” You readjust yourself curled around him, wiping away the tears which haven’t fallen. “I mean, I know now.” Sighing, you wrap your arm around his waist, somehow pulling him closer than he already was. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here. For being you. For letting me be me.”
“It is my absolute pleasure to serve you, your majesty.”
You wack him with the sleeve of your sweater. “You’re such a dork!”
Your laugh is nice. Soonyoung hopes to hear it again soon.
“You know,” you say, eyes closed as you lie there with him on his bed. “Normally I would’ve gone to Seungkwan with my problems, but tonight...”
“Tonight?”
“You make me feel safe, Soonyoung. Thank you.”
His eyes close. “Really?”
“Yeah,” you breathe out. “That, and if I told Seungkwan, he would’ve found the guy and beat him to a pulp.”
“Why can I see that?”
“Because it’s true.”
You stay the night.
•
With a group of friends as big as Soonyoung’s, it’s about once every blue moon that the boys find a time that works for everyone, especially coming up on finals season. They all have their own worries around this time: the dance showcase, the big play, last-minute assessments, and — of course — finals.
So when they’re all free for barbecue one night, everyone’s ecstatic. Reservations are made, gratuities are calculated, and the group chat blows up every few hours with various changes to plans. (Mostly from Mingyu, who’s eager to show off his grilling skills.)
But of course, university is university, and it’s inevitable that someone has to bail out. That someone being Soonyoung.
The dance showcase creeps up a bit faster than anyone likes, and now Soonyoung’s professor is forcing him to choreograph an entire song for some freshmen only a month before the whole thing goes onstage.
First of all, who signs up for a showcase only four weeks before the performance? Who lets them sign up?
And second of all, doesn’t his professor realize Soonyoung has a life? He’s got other dances to work on, other classes to study for, friends to have barbecue with. How is he supposed to cram an entire choreography — not the mention the time it’ll take to teach the freshmen — into his already hectic lifestyle?
But Soonyoung is a people-pleaser. He doesn’t say no.
Instead, he regretfully messages the group chat, saying he can’t hang out tonight in favour of attempting to choreograph at least a quarter of the song in one sitting. He gets the usual whining, but they all know they can’t change his mind, so it fades out fast.
What he doesn’t expect is for them to invite you instead.
“It’s a thirteen person reservation,” Seungcheol reasons. “Besides, she’s basically one of us by now.”
Soonyoung can’t exactly argue with that.
So, you go to the restaurant with them while Soonyoung heads to the studio. Minghao picks you up along with Vernon and Chan, which sends an anxious bit of worry down Soonyoung’s spine, but he does nothing about it. If Minghao wanted to tell you, he would’ve by now.
You send him a good luck text.
[🍥] Don’t let those kids work you into the ground!
He stares at your words for a bit, distracted from finding the song he’s supposed to use. Your contact name is different now — one of those naruto fishcakes because of that time you took him out for ramen. That night had been full of laughter and loud, borderline obnoxious slurping, ending with the beautiful finale of Soonyoung throwing a fishcake straight into your open mouth.
You were the one that sweet-talked you both out of getting banned.
Soonyoung finally opens his music app and finds the song the freshmen requested (a rather boring one, if you ask him) which he sets to max volume. He doesn’t bother plugging his phone into the speaker system, not when he’s the only one in the studio.
Maybe he can do this.
•
“The trick is to add eggs and use less water,” you say as you scoop more batter onto the waffle iron.
Jihoon snorts from where he sits at the table, still shoveling more whipped cream and strawberry-smothered waffle in his mouth. “Are you sure the trick isn’t to just not be Soonyoung?”
“Hey!” Soonyoung pauses his own eating just to pout. “My waffles are good!”
“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”
Both you and Jihoon laugh at Soonyoung’s expense, only further accentuating the pout on his face. You and Jihoon are too alike in that aspect. Well, actually, Soonyoung knows you’d never laugh at him, but he still can’t be sure about Jihoon. One time, back in high school, Soonyoung tripped over (what he thought was) a dead bird, and Jihoon laughed for hours — though Soonyoung always exaggerates the story into him laughing for days.
You sit down next to him with your own plate of waffles. There’s flour dusted on your arms, but you don’t seem to mind.
“You’ve got a little...” You point a finger at the corner of your mouth.
He knows. Soonyoung can feel the cool whipped cream right where you say it is.
He smiles wide. “I’m saving it for later.”
“Hmm...”
You say nothing, just smile as you lean in, kissing the corner of his lips. It’s quick, chaste, and barely a real kiss, but Soonyoung’s heart bounces in his chest. He’s never been kissed like that before.
He wonders if this is what it’s like to be loved.
That thought, though, he pushes back for another time.
“Gross. You guys made me lose my appetite,” Jihoon says. He keeps eating.
•
With eyes drooping shut every few seconds, Soonyoung decides it’s time to call it quits on the chemistry homework. It’s nearly one in the morning, anyways. He flips his textbooks shut and gathers up all his notes, putting them all in a haphazard pile that he’ll worry about in the morning. Swivelling in his chair, his eyes land on you.
Oh. He forgot you’re here.
You’re snuggled up on top of his covers, one arm wrapped around the pillow your head should be on, eyes closed as even, slow breaths come past your slightly parted lips. One of his hoodies is draped over your legs like a blanket. He wonders why you didn’t just get under the covers.
Well, he has been walking you home ever since he hadn’t some time ago. Maybe you were waiting.
He feels a bit guilty as he brushes his teeth and washes his face, but not too bad since you only have afternoon classes tomorrow. Maybe he can treat you to something in the morning to make up for it.
After he tucks you under a fluffy throw blanket, he crawls into bed and lies on his side, facing you.
Your other hand is lax, palm up and fingers curled, almost like you’re holding something invisible.
His hand would fit perfectly.
The tips of his fingers graze over the lines on your palm. Slow. Trepidatious.
You shift, fingers unconsciously curling around Soonyoung’s hand.
He closes his eyes.
•
The moves aren’t working.
The moves aren’t working and the music isn’t working and the dance isn’t working and nothing is working.
Soonyoung groans in frustration, almost screaming with his fingers threaded through his damp hair as he messes up yet another landing. He’s drenched in sweat, and it’s only been so many hours since the rest of the crew left for the night, not that he’s kept track.
It’s less than a week until the showcase. Six days, as Chan is apt to remind everyone with his stupid holiday countdown app.
That freshmen choreography is already over and done with — Soonyoung’s made it, he’s taught it to those over-eager nuisances, and if they need anything more, that’s on them. They’re no longer his responsibility.
That’s not what has him in such a state right now.
His solo — the one he’s been planning for the entire semester — it just doesn’t... feel right. He’s been slaving over it for days now, reworking the steps, figuring out what to take out and what to replace. But the more he fixes it, the more it feels wrong.
He can’t get the steps right. He can’t get anything right.
What is wrong with him?
He starts the music again at exactly one minute, thirty-eight seconds. The moves are clear in his mind. One step. Two steps. Sweep. Spin. Jump—
He falls.
The music goes on.
Soonyoung slams his fist onto the softwood floor, cursing at his ineptitude. He stays like that for a moment, eyes screwed shut and fists clenched so tight his nails dig into his palms. The song ends, only to restart again, but Soonyoung barely notices.
Screw the music. He stands; positions himself; tries again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
He falls.
He yells out at the floor, at his feet, at whatever is holding him back.
His reflection in the mirror stares back at him.
Mind blank, he sits there, legs stretched out in front of him as he hunches over, eyes closed to the world around. His breaths come out shaky and uneven, but even though every moment sitting still feels like eternity, his lungs fail to calm.
Someone knocks on the door, and for a second, Soonyoung thinks it’s Jun coming to tell him to go home for the night. He doesn’t want to, so he doesn’t look up.
The door opens, he can hear the quiet shuffling of hesitant feet that have removed their shoes just because the sign on the door told them to.
“Soonyoung?”
Your voice is clear — like a single drop of water coalescing into a whole — and it cuts through the sound of blood rushing past Soonyoung’s ears.
He looks up to see you standing a good length away, almost like you’re scared to approach. You’re wearing pyjamas, a thick sweater pulled over your shoulders and fuzzy socks donning your feet. Something bulges from the pocket of your sweater.
“What are you...”
“Minghao called me.”
In the back of his mind, a small part of Soonyoung wonders exactly when you and Minghao have gotten close enough to call each other, but the thought doesn’t stay for long. It can’t, really, not when you’re in front of him.
When Soonyoung says nothing more, you take another step forward. “What’s wrong?”
To anyone else, he might say nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong.
His voice breaks when he tries to laugh.
“Everything.”
Your eyes soften, a small smile tugging at your lips. It’s not one of those pitiful smiles, he can tell, but it’s not fake, either. You bring your hands together in front of you, fiddling with the tips of your fingers as your eyes move from them to his gaze again. “I’m coming over. Is that okay?”
He nods.
First, you find his phone and turn down the music until it’s gone. You sit right behind him, legs spread on either side of his body, and you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing flush to his back and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades. He squirms a bit.
“I’m all sweaty,” he tries to argue, but you only squeeze him tighter.
“Yeah, you are.”
He stops resisting. It’s much too hot, what with his hours of constant exercise and your thick layers, but he can’t complain.
“Do you want to talk about it?” This time it’s your turn to ask.
“...Just hold me?”
And you do.
You press a kiss to the back of his neck. Slow, soft, and when your lips leave his searing skin, your forehead replaces them.
That’s when the dam breaks.
Hot, fat tears roll from Soonyoung’s eyes down his cheeks as sobs rack through his chest. The vibrations shake him and you all at once, but your hold never falters. He can’t see anything, only a blur of what should be his legs and your arms wrapped around his stomach. His hands go to clutch at your arms, desperate to hold onto something; to not let him sink.
It’s ugly, the way he cries, but you let it happen. You hold him.
This is what it’s like.
Eventually, his desperate hands find yours, his arms crossed so his right is over your right, his left over your left. His fingers roam over the smooth backs of your hands until they reach your fingers and interlock. The palms of your hands are warm compared to his fingertips.
You’ve locked onto his body language by now — you’re fluent, so you know to continue pressing reassuring, slow kisses into his skin. You know to whisper little words that should mean nothing, but coming from your lips, mean everything.
He’s going to be okay.
For some reason, coming from you, he believes it.
You hold him until the hiccuping stops, until the tears are just dry streaks on his face, until his breath comes out in long streams instead of bursts.
His eyes stay shut as he feels you shift. One of your hands slips out of his grasp, your arm reaching back, and Soonyoung almost whines until he feels its return.
“Look,” you whisper.
It itches to open his eyes, but when he does, he sees what’s in your hand, right in front of him. A small stuffed tiger sits in your palm, positioned anatomically incorrect like a teddy bear, a velvet heart between its paws. Stitched white letters read:
Go get ‘em, tiger!
You chuckle lightly, repositioning yourself so your chin hooks over his shoulder. “Cheesy, I know. I was going to give this to you the day of the showcase, but I think you could use it right about now.”
Gingerly, Soonyoung lifts his hands together, and you place the plush in his awaiting palms.
His voice is slow to restart, but he manages to say, “Thank you.”
Hands now free, you wrap yourself around his waist again. “Anything for you.”
Such a simple sentence, that, and yet the confession sends blood to Soonyoung’s ears in the form of an awfully embarrassing blush. He runs his thumbs over the fuzzy fabric of the tiger plush.
“Soonyoung?”
“Hm?”
You press your lips to the crook of his shoulder, voice muffled in the fabric of his shirt. “I won’t force you to stop practicing. I know this is important to you.” Soonyoung feels your breath fan over his skin. “But I also want you to rest — you shouldn’t overwork yourself.”
One of your hands rises to his chin, guiding it up so he looks forward at the studio mirror and meets your gaze in the reflection.
“Whaddya say we do, hm?” You tilt your head, and Soonyoung thinks his pupils may be heart-shaped. “Do you want to practice more? Or can I take you home?”
“Just...” He swallows what’s left in his dry mouth. “Just once more.”
You smile. “Okay.”
As you get up, you run your hands up to Soonyoung’s shoulder and down to his hand, where you playfully pretend to pull him up with you. He laughs, hiding his face behind the tiger plush for a second before he stands, tugging your hands as he does so you fall into him when he rights himself. Both your hands are squeezed between him and you, while his unoccupied arm finds its way to your side.
Another smile tugs at your lips at the proximity. You shift your hands up so they wrap over his shoulders, linking behind his head. Leaning closer, your eyes gleam under the fluorescent lights. To the sound of silence, you sway together, waltzing in the dead of night.
“I’ll be outside, okay?”
Soonyoung’s expression tightens, eyebrows shifting in confusion. “Why?”
“Well,” you say. “I know how you feel about audiences during practice.”
Something about your smile right now makes Soonyoung feel so undeniably safe. You understand him. Never once have you questioned him over why he doesn’t invite you to practices, never once did you pressure him to change that.
“Do you know how I feel about you?”
“Hmm, do I?”
Do you?
“Stay.”
And you do.
•
Here’s the thing about dance showcases:
They’re big, they’re flashy, they take the entire year to plan, and they’re over in one night.
Soonyoung stands in the wings, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, hopefully not loud enough for anyone to hear. He watches as the group performing before his solo finishes up their dance, though he knows there is at least a minute before he’ll have to go on.
A tap on his shoulder makes him turn his head, and he sees Sehee’s smiling face.
“Nervous?” she asks, her voice hidden beneath the music.
She’s all dolled up, dressed in her costume with a sleek leather jacket to bring everything together. Her eyes glimmer just as much as her eyelids.
“You have no idea,” Soonyoung jokes, but his heart isn’t really in it.
Sehee tilts her head; blinks a few times. “You’ll do amazing. You always do.”
For what it’s worth, Soonyoung hasn’t forgotten his attraction. Sehee’s words soothe him to some extent, pump him up, even. It’s slightly terrifying — how much she still affects him even now.
You’re in the audience tonight, third row from the front, somewhere in the middle. Your seat is between Seungkwan’s and Jihoon’s, whereas all the other boys came (almost) too late and had to find seats elsewhere.
The music ends, applause erupts, and Soonyoung knows it’s his turn. He waits for the group to exit on the opposite side, and when the resounding claps quiet down, he takes the first step onstage.
Something Soonyoung has almost always known: stage lights are blinding. If they’re set up right, anyone onstage will have a damn hard time seeing anyone in the audience. He can’t see you — couldn’t during his previous performance with the crew, either. The only reason he knows you’re there is the million assuring texts you sent him before you had to turn off your phone for the show.
But he knows you’re there. He knows you’re watching.
Soonyoung stands with his left foot on the spike mark, right where he’s practiced time and time again ever since they transitioned into the space. Music floods his veins, and the world is gone.
He wouldn’t call it an escape. Soonyoung doesn’t use dance to get away, it’s not like that. This world he creates with dance — this other space where nothing exists except him and the music and the floor and the feeling — he chooses to go there. Euphoria, he thinks it might be called. Euphoric.
The space takes him. He lets it.
And then it’s over.
Soonyoung’s breath leaves him in bursts, his shoulders heaving despite how hard he fights to keep them still in his final pose. His back faces the audience, his right arm stretched out and up, fingers curling around nothing. Stars dance before his eyes — which he fails to catch with his outstretched hand.
He thinks he can faintly hear applause, but it’s nothing compared to the heart beating in his chest. Your voice plays in his ears, yet he knows it’s simply his imagination — his recollection.
I like your dance, you’d said that night. I’m no expert, no judge, but I like it. I love it, honestly. Your dancing... I don’t know. I wish I had the words. It’s like... a little box.
A little box?
You’ve got a little box in your hand. Brown, maybe the size of your palm. You open it and there’s no bottom, no sides, no shape, just an expanse of universe in blues and pinks and purples and whatever colours we don’t know exist. You look inside and reach your hand in, somehow fitting in the tiny yet infinite space. Your fingers brush through starlight like strands of silk, like the rays are minnows you’ve met during a summer dip. Like that. A little box.
I thought you said you didn’t have the words?
I don’t. Not enough.
Soonyoung vaguely registers the lights going black, the way his feet drift him offstage, the music of the seniors’ finale.
At some point, the lights are back on. Not the stage lights, but the harsh fluorescents once the audience has fully filtered out into the lobby. Most of them will leave, but the family and friends of performers are sure to stay, waiting there to congratulate and fawn over the dancers as soon as they’re let go for the night. Somewhere in his mind, Soonyoung knows his friends are outside waiting for him — him, Jun, Minghao, and Chan.
Roses are passed around. He’s never seen a blue rose before, but some dancers walk around with them as they change out of costume and gather their things. He points out a yellow rose from the bunch presented to him, but it turns out to be a bouquet for him specifically, and he takes the whole thing with his jaw slightly hanging. Everything’s a bit... slow. Soonyoung feels like he’s wading through water.
He hasn’t changed yet, simply standing in his costume as he watches people go back and forth. Other performers move from dressing room to dressing room, cleaning up what they have to while simultaneously patting each other’s backs. Techs go around making sure everything’s in order, nothing lost or forgotten. They put away the MC’s microphones and bother the dancers for not taking proper care of props even though it’s only been one night.
Another tap on his shoulder; it’s Sehee again.
“Can I talk to you?” she asks.
He follows her to a corner of the stage, where the curtains hang and hide the two — for the most part.
She turns almost too abruptly, causing Soonyoung to stumble over his own two feet to avoid bumping into her.
“This is really hard for me to say,” she starts. “But I have to get it out.”
Soonyoung nods, maybe saying something close to a confirmation, but he can’t really tell. He’s a little lightheaded. Sehee has changed out of her leather, instead now in a pair of grey sweatpants and a simple t-shirt. That’s the thing about Sehee, though, she has that unnamed sort of... effortless beauty. Even with her stage makeup wiped off, she glows.
“This might be one of the last times I ever work with you, you know? Next year, my parents are making me quit dancing so I can focus on my major. It sucks, yeah, but they’re right. I need to focus if I want to succeed. You know that too, don’t you? The need to succeed?” She takes a breath; laughs bitterly. “Sorry, I’m getting off track... I just — I wanted to tell you this because if I don’t tonight, I might never get the chance again.”
Maybe Soonyoung has dreamed of this moment. He can’t be sure, not yet, so he lets her continue.
“I like you, Soonyoung. I have for a while. But things happened, and you got together with...” her voice trails off. “And you seemed happy, after a while. I thought maybe I could just keep it hidden but, I don’t know, I think I need to tell you, to get closure because I'm not sure if I can go on without at least—”
Choices. Soonyoung — and everyone else in the world — has only made it through life with decisions. He’s made good ones. Bad ones. He’s had regrets and he’s had none. This, though, this choice is intensely apparent.
Apparent in the way he knows it will affect much more than he wishes.
He kisses her.
God, this is what he wanted, right? What he’s wanted for so long. He used to toss and turn at night over the thought of Sehee’s eyes; her smile; her lips.
And on his, they were heaven. Plump and soft just like the romance novels say, moving at the exact pace of his heartbeat.
The hand holding his bouquet drops to his side as the other goes to cup Sehee’s cheek. Faintly, the sound of paper fluttering to the ground reaches his ears, but nothing can distract him from this moment.
Until, of course, it ends.
Sehee pulls away. “We can’t— I don’t—”
Someone clears their throat.
Soonyoung turns, finding Minghao standing just off from the curtains, arms crossed and face contorted in thinly-veiled anger.
And you.
You’re standing next to Minghao, obviously shocked — over being seen or what you’ve seen, Soonyoung doesn’t know. Hands fisted and held close to your chest, your eyes widen as they meet Soonyoung’s.
It’s not so dramatic as the movies.
Soonyoung stares at you, tongue unmoving with nothing to say. You stare back, almost frozen, until Minghao gently takes you by your shoulders, forcing you to turn and leave the way you must’ve come. Nothing happens in the time it takes. Soonyoung simply watches.
He’s never been good at reading lips, but he thinks he knows exactly what Minghao whispers in your ear.
There’s something you should know.
Sehee mutters, “Sorry,” and leaves. She looks guilt-ridden as she does, but even in his half-frozen state, Soonyoung knows all of this is on him.
He stands alone in that corner of the stage, the only noise being the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant sound of the last stragglers in the dressing rooms. His hands clench, and the brown paper of the bouquet crumples. He looks at it then, at the yellow roses and baby’s breath, at the beige note that’s fallen to the floor.
Slowly, he crouches, picking up the note with his thumb and forefinger.
Congratulations Soonyoung!! I know how hard you’ve worked for this night, which is why I ordered these to be delivered. Joshua told me yellow roses represent happiness, or something. Pretty, right? You deserve every happiness, so I decided to start with flowers. Tonight may be over, but who knows, maybe we’ll find happiness in tomorrow, too.
It’s stupid. It’s not a love letter. It’s laced with love, though, and he hates that he recognizes your handwriting.
Time moves heavily as Soonyoung turns to the backstage door. He’s the only one left now, his station in the second boy’s dressing room is messy, unlike everyone else’s. His reflection stares back at him while he sits in front of the mirror, motions halved in speed as he wipes off his eye makeup.
It’s over.
When was the last time he thought about how it would end?
He changes out of costume, arms growing stiff, and stuffs everything in his bag without much care for how. His regular clothes itch; he longs to scratch at his skin, but he doesn’t.
He leaves your bouquet on the counter.
His friends stand in a circle in the lobby, brows furrowed and voices hushed as they discuss... something. Soonyoung has a bad feeling he knows exactly the topic. Minghao isn’t there. Nor are you.
Jihoon isn’t around, either, but Soonyoung remembers he had to leave immediately after the performance. Something about an essay. It doesn’t really matter now, not compared to this.
When he approaches his friends, they quiet down further. Half of them look his way with a frown, while the other half choose to avert their eyes. What do they know?
Seungkwan stands out the most. His arms are crossed, his lips are pressed together in a thin line, and anger radiates from his very being. Of course he’s mad. You’re his friend.
The silence consumes Soonyoung as he nearly shrivels under his friends’ gazes. He must have taken his time, the lobby is empty except for them.
“Where’s Minghao?” he asks.
Seungkwan lurches forward, but both Seungcheol and Wonwoo bring up their arms to hold him back.
“Where’s Minghao? Where’s Minghao?” he seethes. He jabs an accusatory finger in Soonyoung’s face. “You just kissed some girl and broke my best friend’s heart and you’re asking about Minghao?!”
So they don’t know. Not really.
Soonyoung endures the scolding. The looks. The questions. The noise.
No answers are really given.
The great thing about having best friends is that they know not to pamper you when you’ve done wrong. That’s also the worst thing about having best friends.
Seungkwan would go on and on, surely, but soon enough the boys notice how little Soonyoung is reacting — how his face and expression is slack and dull.
Joshua holds up a finger to quiet down the ones still complaining, then gestures towards the front entrance.
“Minghao left with her a while ago.” The look on his face is one of pity. Soonyoung hates it.
He nods; stuffs his hands in his pockets as he turns to the door.
“Wait! I’m not done—!” Seungkwan struggles against Wonwoo and Seungcheol, but he’s no match.
Soonyoung doesn’t stick around long enough to hear what happens next.
He has no sense of what to do when he walks out that door. Go home, maybe.
The night breeze hits him with more force than it should, making his eyes go dry and his lips tremble. Outside, everything is almost too loud. There’s traffic on all sides, surrounding the lot of the theatre; the sound of humming engines and honking horns assaults his senses.
He walks — though it feels like wandering — to the parking lot, where he plans to look around for a bus stop.
You’re there.
A mirage, he thinks at first, but you’re really there, sitting on one of those concrete barriers, legs outstretched and ankles crossed. You have your head lowered as you sit, hands braced on the cold concrete.
His held breath escapes him, and you look up.
“You’re here,” you say. The smile on your lips, ever so slight and ever so bitter, causes a ringing in his ears. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”
“I...”
“It’s a lie, right?” Your eyes glisten, but no tears fall. “You wouldn’t— I’m not— I’m not that naive, am I?”
Soonyoung’s lips part, but nothing moves past them. His hands itch to leave his pockets, but with nothing to reach for, they stay still.
“...I see.”
You drop your head again, bringing your hands together to fiddle with your fingernails. He hears your breath, shaky as it is, and his lungs constrict.
“God, it felt so real. I thought— I guess I don’t know what I thought, huh?” A shiver runs through you. “Was any of it real?” you ask the ground.
Soonyoung longs to answer. That’s the thing, though.
He doesn’t know.
Can any of it be real?
You laugh. Before, your laugh was spring strawberries; summer warblers; winter snowdrops. Now, your dry laughter echoes in Soonyoung’s mind like a pebble in a failed attempt of skipping stones.
“Guess not.”
You hop off the concrete barrier, wiping off your pants of dust and dirt. Still, you don’t meet his eyes.
Soonyoung’s heart beats in a way he knows isn’t natural. Guilt seeps through every orifice. “You’re not... you’re not yelling at me. You’re not crying — you’re not angry,” he stumbles through. “Why?”
It’s then that when you meet his eyes, he notices the dried tracks lining your cheeks. You have been crying, just in the time it took for him to come across you.
“I’m just disappointed in myself, Soonyoung,” you say. “I’m the one who fell for it so easily. I’m the one that was tricked. I’m the one who—” a breath “—who loved someone that didn’t love me back.” You step closer, arms limp at your side. “Once I get home, sure, I’ll cry my eyes out. Is that what you want to hear? I’ll curse myself for being so... so stupid.”
“It’s not your fault—”
“No, it’s not. This is not my fault. All I did was believe the words you said to me. All I did was hand myself to you on a silver platter.” Unshed tears brim at your eyelids, but it seems you refuse to let them fall. “But you know the worst part, Soonyoung?”
Everything?
“The worst part is I can’t yell at you. I’m not angry because I fell in love with someone who doesn’t love me back and it hurts and I can’t bring myself to hate you despite being told you’ve never thought about me the way I think about you.”
A breathy gasp escapes you, and you turn on a dime, the sight of your back an icy reminder to Soonyoung of what he’s yet to learn. You take a deep breath to gather yourself, shoulders rising and falling.
“I’ll be going now. I’ve got a lot to think about.”
Soonyoung doesn’t move from his spot when you walk away, or when you get into Minghao’s car, which pulls away after a moment of sitting there in its parking spot. His feet are stuck in stiff mud, unable to shift, even.
Perhaps he stands there for too long. It’s not until he’s staring down the front of his apartment that he realizes one of his friends must have dropped him off.
•
He hasn’t heard from you in a few days. He hasn’t heard from anyone in just as long.
Jihoon already knew (not everything, but enough) by the time Soonyoung rolled out of bed the day after. He hasn’t said anything about it, but Soonyoung can tell this silence isn’t the same as usual. They rarely eat meals together anymore. Last movie night, Jihoon didn’t even pretend to be busy, instead saying he simply wasn’t in the mood.
Seungkwan hasn’t left your side ever since... that happened. If Soonyoung happens to see you on campus, which is almost never, he backs out of approaching you because of the sheer force that is Seungkwan’s glare. Besides, he wouldn’t know what to say even if he did find the courage to face you.
Classes go by in blurs. Not quickly, like scenery past a car window, but so slow that once Soonyoung leaves, he remembers nothing but hours upon hours of staring at his empty notebook, even if the lecture was only fifty minutes long. Days are kind of like that too.
•
Sehee apologizes. She shouldn’t, but she does.
Soonyoung didn’t really hate what he did at first. He liked her, after all.
But when Sehee chokes on her own words, pleading to whoever will listen that she’s not that kind of girl, Soonyoung regrets kissing her more than he ever wanted to kiss her in the first place.
•
please let me explain
I’m sorry
it’s been a while, but still
I’m sorry
[🍥] Explain what?
[🍥] ...
[🍥] Soonyoung?
sorry I just
I wasn’t expecting you to answer
[🍥] Maybe I shouldn’t have
no
wait
I’m sorry
[🍥] So I’ve heard
I just want you to know why what happened, happened
[🍥] But I already know why
it’s not that simple
[🍥] You lied because you suck at lying. Because you knew Sehee was there that night and panicked. I was just collateral damage
[🍥] ...
[🍥] No answer, huh?
[🍥] So it really is that simple
please wait
I’m just trying to figure myself out
[🍥] Let me help you
[🍥] You want my forgiveness because you feel guilty. Maybe you don’t know it yet, but you want me to say I forgive you just so you won’t have to carry this around for the rest of your life
[🍥] I know this isn’t some romcom. I know you’re not here to get me back
[🍥] So just let it go
[🍥] Let’s just forget about this. About what happened
what if I can’t
[🍥] I don’t know
[🍥] Figure it out, I guess
[🍥] But do it on your own
•
Soonyoung doesn’t measure his time anymore.
He wakes up. He eats. He goes to class. He skips lunch. He goes home. He eats. He falls asleep.
When was the last time he went out with someone? When was the last time he had a real conversation?
He doesn’t know.
•
[Minghao] You should tell everyone else
why
[Minghao] Would you rather they think you’re a cheater or just an idiot?
I don’t know
[Minghao] I think they deserve an explanation
[Minghao] Want me to do it for you?
does it even matter anymore
[Minghao] It’s your choice
[Minghao] You just have to make it
then tell them
I don’t care
[Minghao] Are you sure?
tell them
•
These days, Soonyoung stays late at the studio. No one really practices there anymore, not since the showcase finished and finals have rolled around. Actually, Soonyoung should be studying too, but he can’t find the motivation. He thinks it might be the guilt.
You were right. He doesn’t want to carry this around.
The thing is, despite spending entire evenings in the studio, he can’t remember anything as he walks home. It must be hours spent in there, and yet, when he walks out, he can’t recall a thing. Like he was never there at all.
Where does the time go?
With his luck, the elevator is broken when he returns to the apartment building, so he has to take the stairs. Normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but after hours of mindless, sloppy dancing, he’s much too tired. He fumbles with his keys when he tries to open the door, and he rests his forehead on the cool wood for a moment, sighing before he tries again.
The door creaks open. Though it’s late, the lights are still on, which Soonyoung frowns at when he realizes. Lately, Jihoon is never up when Soonyoung comes home. But there he is, sitting at the table right next to the kitchen with his eyes on his hands and his feet tucked under the chair.
Soonyoung freezes after shutting the door behind him, not wholly sure what to make of the scene before him.
After a moment of silence, Jihoon looks up from his fingers and meets Soonyoung’s gaze.
“Minghao called me today,” he says.
Soonyoung gulps, but doesn’t respond — doesn’t know how to.
“I didn’t want to believe it at first, you know.” His voice is slow, croaky; tired. “But it sort of makes sense, doesn’t it. I don’t know how I didn’t see it from the start.”
Slowly, Soonyoung slips off his shoes and steps further into the apartment. “So now you know. I’m really not in the mood for a lecture right now.”
“I just have a question.”
Soonyoung pauses, halfway through the apartment and only a few meters from his bedroom door. He turns to face Jihoon, sighing through his nose and digging his palm into his eye sockets. “Fine,” he concedes. “What?”
“If you never loved — never liked her, why are you acting like this now?”
“Acting like what?”
“Like a dead man walking.”
Soonyoung scoffs, a dry, empty sound as he looks away for a moment before meeting Jihoon’s gaze again. “You’re kidding, right?” he asks. “I lied to someone for months. I pretended to love someone I didn’t. I used her because of my own stupidity and pride, and then I used Sehee, too—” Pausing, he closes his eyes; takes a breath. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s guilt. I feel guilty for... for everything.”
“That’s the only reason?”
“Excuse me?”
Jihoon rhythmically taps the pads of his fingers on the table. It’s not loud enough to be heard, but Soonyoung’s eyes train to the sight. “It’s only the guilt?”
“What else would it be?”
This time, it’s Jihoon who sighs. He looks at his hands again for a second. “Do me a favour,” he says without looking up.
“Look, I already—”
“Just do what I say.”
Soonyoung groans, but he knows he can’t argue with Jihoon and win — not now at least. He rubs his eyes, shoulders rising and falling as he takes in a deep breath. Mumbling under his breath, he says, “Fine.”
Jihoon stands from his chair, and in such stagnant silence, the sound of the legs squeaking on the floor is profound. He points to the middle of the apartment, the large bit of floor-space that’s too big to be considered part of the kitchen but too small to house any furniture.
“Stand right there.”
“...What?”
Without answering, Jihoon simply points at the floor again, and Soonyoung can only groan in defiance as he moves to stand in that spot. Grabbing a throw pillow from the couch, Jihoon steps a few feet away, facing Soonyoung with the pillow held in one hand at his side. He seems to consider something for a moment.
Soonyoung has never been unable to read Jihoon this much, so he asks, “What is this all about—”
Jihoon screams. Not a high-pitched screech, but a guttural battle cry, and Soonyoung’s eyes widen. Faster than he can comprehend, Jihoon runs towards him and tackles him to the ground. Soonyoung’s legs crumble as he falls, and he feels the throw pillow pressing onto his face.
This is it, he thinks. This is how he dies.
“Jihoon!” he cries, but his protest is muffled by the pillow. “What the fuck are you—!”
“You fucking idiot! You don’t know shit!”
“I know that!” Soonyoung thrashes to get the pillow off, but Jihoon is way stronger than he looks.
“You miss her you fucking buffoon! You’re all in your doom and gloom because you had a good thing going and had to go fuck it up!”
“I don’t!”
“Don’t try to argue with me, fucker, I know you better than anyone. Now scream!”
The pillows squishes further down, and while Soonyoung can still breathe, it’s far from comfortable. He continues to struggle even though he knows it’s useless.
“What?!”
“Scream into the pillow! You’re mad at yourself and you should be! Let it all out!”
“I—”
“Scream!”
And he does. He lets out a loud bellow that’s nothing but sound roaring from his lungs. He does it mostly to appease Jihoon — so that maybe he’ll finally get off.
But it feels good.
No, not good, really. It feels awful. Everything feels awful. Yet, something about screaming makes him want to do it again. He yells once more into the pillow, the sound muffled in the fabric and yet intensely remarkable. He screams and he screams and he screams until he can’t scream anymore and his voice is raw and there’s no more sound aside from the fractured gasps of his sobs. Tears soak into rough fabric, and he doesn’t even notice that Jihoon isn’t holding the pillow anymore — he’s pressing it to his face himself. His body shakes under Jihoon. Soonyoung feels pathetic, but he can’t stop.
He tries again to scream into the pillow, but his voice cracks and all he knows is to cry.
This is what it’s like.
Quietly, Jihoon maneuvers himself so he sits by Soonyoung’s head. He slowly lifts a corner of the pillow and peeks at Soonyoung’s red face. “So,” he whispers, voice soft and full of care. “What are you going to do now?”
Soonyoung wraps his arms around the pillow, hiding his face again.
“I don’t know,” he says. He’s never felt less sure of anything. “I don’t know.”
•
That night, Soonyoung cleans his room. He doesn’t reorganize or anything, just picks discarded clothes up off the ground and throws them in a hamper, spreads his blankets so his bed actually looks bed-like, and takes his overflowing garbage bin out to the door, where he’ll take it out tomorrow morning. As he stretches his arm between his bed and the wall, his fingers close around the sweater he’s trying to reach and... something else. When he brings his hand back up, a small tiger plush stares back at him.
Go get ‘em, tiger!
He stares at the words for a moment, sitting up on his bed and leaning his back against the wall. The plush feels frail in his hands, almost like the velvet heart held in the tiger’s paws could crumble at any moment. Maybe it will.
Soonyoung settles down above the covers that night, and the tiger sits on his other pillow.
The one that still smells like you.
•
He cries. (For the second time since you left.)
•
After everything that’s happened, one would think it would take a miracle to fix what’s been broken. Soonyoung thinks it will take more than that, but still; he’s no miracle worker. He thinks it will take magic to just see you again.
Turns out, it takes a coffee.
Jihoon forces Soonyoung to join him in visiting one of the campus cafes. He doesn’t think about it too much, just believes Jihoon’s trying to keep him alive with a little kick of caffeine. That thought is pushed away when Jihoon blocks him from sitting at the little table, pointing instead across the space to the student printing center.
You’re talking to a customer at the front counter, forearms rested on the white faux marble. A smile is on your lips as you say whatever it is you’re saying to the girl, and Soonyoung finds it almost impossible to tear his eyes away. But he does. He scans the rest of the building for a second. Seungkwan is nowhere to be seen, and neither is Minghao.
He turns to Jihoon, a question on the tip of his tongue.
“She told the bodyguards to back off,” Jihoon explains without needing to be asked. “It’s been a few days.” He nods his chin towards you. “Go on. Talk to her.”
Soonyoung shakes his head, gulping down the words he can’t yet think of. “I don’t... I’m not... ready.”
“If you back out now, you’re going to keep backing out until it’s too late.”
Jihoon’s eyes blaze with an unfitting determination for such a setting. He looks stupid, like some self-made, all-knowing relationship guru who likes the coke he’s gripping too much. Still, he’s right.
Soonyoung licks his dry lips and looks at you again. You’ve sat down, relaxed after having helped that customer and now conversing with one of the other students working there. He misses the way you looked when you were happy — when you were happy with him.
What will it take to see that again?
What will it take to hold you again?
His feet move before his doubts can stop him, and the scene feels awfully familiar. This time though, Soonyoung can’t help but feel like the bad guy.
You don’t notice him until he’s right in front of you, and he doesn’t know what hurts more: the immediate frown, or the fake smile you use to cover it up.
“Hi, what can I do for you today?”
If Soonyoung had to define heartache, he might use this moment. Feigning to forget rather than acknowledging the past... it’s effective, but it hurts.
“Can...” He hesitates and curses himself for it. “Can we talk?”
“About printing, yes. About anything else? I really would rather we didn’t,” you say under your breath. It’s hushed, and you don’t shy away when Soonyoung leans closer to hear. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?
“But there’s something I need to say.”
“I don’t think I want to hear anymore apologies, Soonyoung.”
“It’s not that,” he argues.
Your eyebrows scrunch together. “It’s not an apology?”
“No— I mean, well, yes I want to apologize. I don’t think I’ll ever stop apologizing, but— but that’s not what I—”
“Soonyoung.”
He stops at your word, knowing that speaking will only get him further into trouble. Around you, his words keep failing. Instead, he meets your eyes, which under more inspection, seem hardened.
Have eyes ever looked so hardened when brimmed with tears?
“I don’t know if you know this, but seeing you makes me hate myself.” By now, your coworker has walked to the back, probably to respect your privacy. Your voice almost cracks. “I’ve felt worthless before, but Soonyoung, do you even realize what that — what you did to me?”
He barely breathes before saying, “What if I... what if I said I fell in love with you? Somewhere along the way?” A pause. Your eyes waver, but steady themselves. “What if I said I love you?”
“Soonyoung,” you say after a second.
“Yes?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
•
[🍥] Give me a reason to give you a chance
this is real right?
[🍥] It’s not a dream if that’s what you’re asking
all of a sudden??
[🍥] Minghao and Jihoon said I should
[🍥] And I think I should too
[🍥] But it’s hard
[🍥] What you said yesterday... I don’t know if I can believe it just yet
will you meet me?
I want to see you
[🍥] Can you give me some time?
yes
all the time you need
but will you?
will you meet me?
[🍥] I don’t want to
[🍥] But then again, I do
[🍥] Just give me some time
•
A strange thing, time. It passes by much too quickly when you want it to last, and it drags on when all you want is to be there. There; right then; right now.
Soonyoung stays up late turning on and off his phone, waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting.
It’s only been two days.
Jihoon thinks he’s crazy, though he hasn’t said it out loud — Soonyoung can tell.
He also thinks he might be a little crazy, but that’s okay. If it means he’ll get the chance to make it up to you... maybe he’s fine with being crazy.
At some point, Jihoon barges into his room and takes away Soonyoung’s phone, snatching it straight out of his hands like the little thief he is. He keeps it out of reach despite being shorter, preaching bullshit like, “You need to calm down and act like a normal person!”
Fine, whatever.
Soonyoung goes out for some air. And instant ramen.
There’s a twenty-four hour convenience store right on the edge of campus, manned by a single tired university student that everyone is aware of, yet no one really seems to know his name. It’s one of those spots where time doesn’t exist; maybe names don’t, either.
Compared to the blackness of night, the blanch white convenience store sticks out like a sore thumb, especially with all the bright posters and fluorescent tube-lights. Soonyoung feels just as out of place with no people around just outside the store, but really, it’s to be expected at a time like two in the morning.
He’s right at the door when it chimes and slides open. And so are you.
Both of you freeze where you are, you in the doorway and he just in front. His jaw slacks slightly as he takes you in.
You’re in casual clothes again, a thick sweater and presumably pyjama pants. This version of you comes with good memories — for some reason he likes it more than he cares to admit. Maybe he liked that you could share a more vulnerable side to him, and he to you in return. Although, you’ve shown this side to even the unnamed convenience store guy.
It’s your voice that breaks him from his reverie.
“Soonyoung,” you say, and it’s softer than before. Maybe your voice is lighter from the fact that it’s two in the morning, maybe just because you’re tired, but a small part of Soonyoung wishes that it’s something else — that you sound softer because you’ve missed him too.
He hopes it isn’t just hope.
He says your name, the sound beautiful and battered on his tongue. A small smile passes your lips, so fast that he almost misses it, but he doesn’t. That’s one thing he knows about you: how much you care. Even if someone hurts you, you always take the time to hear them out. You give them chances. Soonyoung should thank his lucky stars that you’ve done the same for him.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
You smile again, and it reaches your eyes, however sad.
“Is it time?” he asks.
“It can be.” The plastic bag in your hand crinkles as you sway it back and forth. “Do you want it to be?”
“Yeah.” His voice comes out like a breath. “Please.”
“Then that’s what we’ll make it.”
You gesture to the ground, where the curb meets the asphalt, but Soonyoung is still a little shocked that he’s even met you here in the first place, so he watches, dazed, as you sit down on the curb before joining in. He stays silent as you pull out an ice cream cup and hand it to him. He stays silent as you procure a second one and peel open the plastic lid, digging into it with the wooden stick spoon-wannabe that comes with the package. He stays silent as you look at him, the wooden stick hanging from your mouth.
“So,” you say, scraping the side of the paper cup. Meeting his eyes, you sport a sly smile. “I hear you’re in love with me.”
The ice cream stays unopened in his hands. He finds it so easy to smile back.
“Yeah. I think I am.”
“You think you are?”
“I’ve never loved someone like this before,” he tries to explain, though the words are slow to his tongue. “I can only think.”
“I guess so.”
“But—” he looks at his fingers, fiddling with the plastic lid of the cup, and a small laugh escapes “—I’m thinking really, really hard.”
You laugh too; his heart blooms.
“Is that so?” you tease, smiling around the wooden spoon. “It’s gonna take more than that.”
“I think I can do it.”
“You think?”
“I think really hard.”
Soonyoung might be in love with every part of you, even if he never realized. Your laugh, your smile, your tells, your habits. He wishes he knew sooner, that this laugh could’ve been his forever long before now.
You scrape the last drops of ice cream out of the paper cup and leave the stick in your mouth, a bit chewed up. Your shoes tap against the asphalt, the rhythm something that draws both his and your eyes.
“You know...” you say, turning your head to meet his gaze once more. “You know you hurt me, right? You know this won’t be easy?”
“None of what we had was easy.”
A scoff runs past your lips. You bump your shoulder against his. “Speak for yourself. I fell hard and fast for you, asshole.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. I know.” You take the still unopened ice cream from his hands and stuff it right back in the bag it came from. “Say it again, though.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Hmmm... maybe it’ll take a few more times.”
“I’m—”
“But not tonight,” you say. “Tonight...”
Your hand beside him closes the distance, grazing over his and pulling it over to your lap.
“...just hold me?”
And he does.

Bonus (gn) epilogue: Fluff and Context Bonus (gn) blurbs: [a fate of my choosing][pick a struggle]
Fluff and Context
Genres: all fluff all the time babyyyy
Pairing: Reader & Hoshi (Seventeen)
Words: 494
Notes: This is an accompanying piece to my other fic Bluff and Nonsense, so before reading this, please check out that first!
Soonyoung wakes up without you.
Keep reading
"it's just me."
you barely get a chance to roll onto your back before soonyoung's already climbing onto the bed and somewhat on top of you and your blankets, and it's only seconds later that he crashes. it's far from the first time this has happened (soonyoung is clingy and cuddly, especially when he's sleepy), but he manages to knock the wind out of you nonetheless. he rests his head on your chest, and you wiggle an arm out to curl around him as best as you can in your semi-trapped position.
"soonyoung--"
"just go back to sleep," he murmurs. "everything's fine."
you stroke his hair, thumb dipping down to graze his cheek at one point. "soonie--"
"i mean it," he says, eyes peering up in the low light to see yours. "i'm fine. just need to nap." his hand finds yours, and he wraps your arm around him as he snuggles in. he plants a kiss against your chest before resting his head against it again, eyes fluttering shut. "you can rest a little longer, too."
you settle back down after a moment, arms wrapped around soonyoung as you shut your eyes again. sometimes you swear this tiger is a teddy bear, but regardless of which he is, he's yours.
them accidentally ditching you on your bday pt. 2- pu
content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, jun's has one brief suggestive mention, fluffy ending, etc.
part 1
wc: 3232
a/n: tysm to everyone who read and enjoyed the whole series <33 it was rlly fun to write angst with a fluffy ending hehe
masterlist
jun -
against his better judgment, jun sat in silence for a while as he contemplated what to do. you were likely not only mad, but also disappointed at him ditching you like that. except he hadnt meant to! he truly had no idea he would sleep through the entirety of the morning. he had been so excited to spend his favorite day with his favorite person, but now he was left as a complete asshole while you believed him to have carelessly put you aside with no warning
after a few more minutes of self-pitying, he decided to get up. it was better to try and make amends and explain himself than to let even more time pass. he knew you'd be out by the time he arrived to your place, but at least that way he could fix something up for your arrival. he decided against calling you. it didnt feel personal enough, plus, the least he could do was surprise you.
without further thought, jun headed straight to your place, but not before inquiring his mom about a few recipes he knew you liked. his current plan was to make you a romantic dinner upon your return. in order to allow you to enjoy your day in whichever way you wished to, he continued to not contact you with his new plan. he knew it might've been dumb to not even answer the multiple messages you'd left him while he slept, but he wanted to apologize face to face with a romantic gesture.
preparing the meal had been easy enough. he followed it by creating a nice ambience with the lights and a few candles, along with some mellow music and incense. the next step in his plan was to offer you a massage and his wholehearted company for the rest of the night to do whatever you so wished.
luckily for him, your outing did not extend into the night, meaning his meal would become either a brunch or an early dinner. but that didn't matter to him the moment you stepped in and spotted him in suit and tie waiting for you in your apartment, eyes wide as saucers at the unexpected intrusion.
'jun?'
'wait! dont say anything. i rehearsed this, okay? let me say my thing first.'
you were already used to his shenanigans, so you gestured at him to continue before voicing any questions.
'i'm so sorry. i know i promised to be here. and i was planning to be here on time! but i, uh, i fell asleep. i know how stupid that sounds, trust me! i didn't plan on this. i was so exhausted and i didnt realize that id sleep through all my alarms and your messages. my phone died last night too, so i didnt even realize you had called me. i'm just ... im sorry. i know im an idiot. please forgive me? i made you a romantic dinner to make up for it! i hope you like it, they're my mom's recipes,' he paused for a second before continuing, 'i love you! i wanted to spend the whole day with you, i swear. i know it didnt go as planned, but id you let me, id love to spend what remains of it doing whatever you want. im sorry i left you alone. i never meant to.'
'junnie ...'
jun immediately noticed your lip begin to stick out in a pout, with watery eyes to match.
'oh, fuck. baby, i'm so sorry,' he rushed you into his embrace, 'i didnt mean to make you cry! i- how can i make it up to you? i'll do anything, just say the word.'
you halted him before he could continue, remaining in his hold but disconnecting yourself enough to look into his eyes.
'no, junnie. it's just ... fuck, im sorry if my texts were harsh. i thought you had just ditched me for no reason. you must've been so exhausted, baby, im sorry. i understand why you weren't here, and ... god, thank you for the dinner. you're so sweet, junnie, im so so-'
'no! dont apologize. you're not allowed to apologize on your birthday. in a perfect world i wouldve made it home and fallen asleep in your arms instead. will you have dinner with me? then i can take you to bed', he interrupted himself upon realizing what he said, 'oh, wait! not like that! but well, if you want too ... it's your day, anything you say goes. happy birthday, by the way,' he pressed his nose to yours, 'i love you.'
you couldn't help but giggle at his panicked state, appreciating the sweet words nonetheless.
'thank you, junnie. i love you.'
soonyoung -
soonyoung wasn't too sure where he was going.
it's not like be was blackout drunk, he was just drunk. period. he still had some sense of reason. he was almost 85% sure he was in minghao's car. but there was no way to be completely sure from the angle in which he was laying down. that's when his friend decided to inquire his name to check on him, thus confirming soonyoung's current whereabouts. that was also when soonyoung fell right back asleep.
next time he gained consciousness he was being dragged out of the car and being directed to follow minghao. he could recognize his new location anywhere. he was standing right outside your apartment. when you opened the door, he couldnt help but instantly let himself fall atop you, attacking you with a hug as you were forced a few steps back due to his body weight being dropped on you. you held him back, patting his back as you spoke to minghao about something. he wasn't too sure. the familiar scent at the crook of your neck had him too distracted to care.
finally minghao left, allowing you two some alone time. you left him on the couch and got him water, telling him he needed to sober up before you could talk, because apparently you had something to say to him. it was odd. you weren't cooing at him as you usually did. you also weren't stuck to his side, giving him his daily dose of physical affection like he'd always demand. he decided to shrug it off, allowing himself to fall into deep slumber on the uncomfortable space of your couch. he'd figure it out tomorrow.
when tomorrow came, soonyoung was hit with two things. one came after the other.
the first was his headache, which almost went away on its own at the mere aight of the aspirin you had left on the coffee table in front of him. he made a mental note to give you a thank you kiss the moment he saw you.
the next thing he was hit with was realization of how uneven this relationship seemingly was.
as he got up to seek you out, he stopped just before entering your bedroom, realizing you were on a phone call. he didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he was also really nosy by nature, so the math did itself.
'yeah. im sorry for cancelling on you yesterday ... no, i know ... it's not like that .... he just forgot .... yeah ..... he came home drunk .... i dont know. i think i'll just let him figure it out on his own .... i am hurt. we made plans and he just blew me off to drink with his friends, of course im hurt .... i'll just see you tomorrow, i gotta go take care of him .... yeah, i know im an idiot, but i love him .... okay, bye. love you too.'
soonyoung could only hear your side of the conversation, but that had been enough for him to clue the pieces together. your birthday was yesterday. which was something he knew, but had completely left his mind at the mention of free drinks with the guys.
after that realization came many others.
you had shown him no type of anger upon his arrival, even making sure take care of him in his drunken state. you had changed him into his pjs as he slept, tucked him into your couch, given him medicine. even after he blew you off. on your birthday. fuck.
he gave himself no time to think before he barged into the room, immediately kneeling in front of you as he grabbed onto your hands. he paid no mind to your shocked state as he started babbling apologies to you.
'im so sorry, i- i dont know how i forgot. baby ... im so fucking sorry. i cant believe you took care of me even after i forgot. you shouldve punished me. you should punish me. i dont deserve you. im so so so sorry. i love you so much, i swear i never meant go forget. im just an idiot. that's not an excuse! you're just too good for me. I'll make it up to you! how can i? anything! please, i love you'
his rambling could only be blamed on his still buzzed state, as that had only been half of his apology. he kept going for ten minutes, allowing you no room to respond. he was surprised when by the end of it you'd instructed him to get up, almost tackling him in a hug as you wrapped your arms around his neck. he might've been an idiot, but he'd accept any affection from you he could get. always.
'soonie ...', you pulled away to look into his eyes, a sweet softness behind them. them you decided to slap his chest, making him wince at the unexpectedness of it, 'you fucking idiot! i waited for you all day, and you ditch me for alcohol?'
'baby, i-'
'no! i cant sit through another ten minutes of apologies. im pretty sure you're a little drunk still. i forgive you. but you have a lot of making up to do, understand?'
he felt like a scolded puppy, but agreed regardless, telling you that he would swear off alcohol if that's what it took. he enjoyed your giggle as he suggested ridiculous ways to make it up to you, knowing he'd genuinely do anything to make up for ever making you upset.
minghao -
if he hadn't felt immediate regret the moment the words came out of his mouth, he sure felt it now, hearing you cry through the door to your shared bedroom.
he had no idea what had gotten into him. never had he ever even entertained the idea of disrespecting you like that, much less ever making you cry. he could take his job too seriously sometimes, making him a bit too irritable when his work ethic was questioned in any way. although this was true, he knew it was still just a cheap excuse for his behavior. no matter what had been going through his mind, he knew he had no right to speak to you in the way that he did, dismissing you so coldly on a day that was meant to celebrate you.
he was unsure what to do. he wanted to comfort you so badly, but he knew that he had been the sole cause for your pain. he felt himself get emotional at the mere thought, with your sobs making him weak at the knees in regret. he sat himself down on the other side of the door, knowing from the proximity of your cries that you must've been on the opposite side as well. he kept quiet, simply torturing himself as he heard the love of his life cry because of him. there was only so much he could take, however, before finally interrupting.
'my love ..?'
your cries seized a bit at his interruption, but your sniffles and heavy breath could still be heard, breaking his heart bit by bit.
'angel ... im so sorry ... i- i don't know what came over me. you're right. i should've called you. there is no world in which i wouldnt want to be with you to celebrate the birth of the love of my life. you're my everything. i want to shout it from the rooftops. i want everyone to know who my entire world is; who makes my heart beat', he took a pause to breathe, allowing himself to think of how to properly apologize to you, 'i should never speak to you the way i just did, i ... im disgusted with myself. you're the most important thing in my life. being the source of your sadness makes me lose my mind. my one purpose in this life is to love you with all i have. im so sorry ... my love, please dont cry over me. no one deserves your tears.'
by the end of his speech you had begun to cry harder, making his heart crumble even more.
'angel ... let me see you, please. i need to hold you, need to- need you in my arms. cant stand not taking away your pain, please, i-'
his words were interrupted by a sudden opening of the door. by the time he'd gotten up, you had already walked further into your room, sitting on the edge of the bed as you made yourself as small as possible, looking down while he approached. he knelt in front of you, grabbing your hands as he held them against his own, kissing at the back of your palms as he professed his love for you once more. he then got up and made it so you'd stand up with him, allowing him to cradle you in his arms.
'please forgive me ... i adore you more than anything.'
you finally looked up at him, bloodshot eyes as he looked down at you with both worry and adoration.
'did you mean it? do you really not care to ditch me for your career? did you-'
'no! never. you're everything to me. there's nothing i hold more dear to my heart than your own. i'll never make you cry again. i'll grow old with you and give you nothing but happiness. please, please forgive me.'
he knew his words could only get him so far, being fully aware that he had purposely hurt your feelings in the heat of the moment. he simply hoped that this would not cause a strain in your relationship; that you would somehow look past it and give him the forgiveness that he didn't deserve.
his thoughts were fortunately interrupted by a soft meeting of your lips, allowing him to melt into you before you pulled away.
'hao ... i forgive you. i- i never thought you'd just disregard me like that', he physically winced at the thought, 'but you've shown me nothing but love and respect otherwise. i understand you were stressed, and i love you, so i forgive you.'
'thank you, angel. i'll take tomorrow off, okay? let me keep you all to myself so i can show you how sorry i am; how badly i love you.'
he then spent the rest of the night attached to you, waxing poetic at you as he told you of all the plans he had for the two of you tomorrow, even eventually progressing into talking about his night at the fashion show. your enthusiasm at his rambles made him realize how fortunate he was to have you all over again. he made a promise to himself and to you that he'd never lose his temper around you ever again.
chan -
'wait, what? ah! don't hit me!'
'you idiot! you're dating a literal angel and you forget their birthday?! what is wrong with you?'
'it's not today! it's, uh, wait. fuck. today?!'
checking his phone really quickly he realized that today's date was in fact your birthday. he hadn't bothered to write down a reminder for your birthday anywhere, knowing there was absolutely more way he could forget. except that the days had begun to blend together at some point, rendering him into a machine as he just went to his schedules without much thought. what he hadn't accounted for, however, was for your birthday to get lost in the mess also.
chan hadn't planned for his day to go like this. he 100% was not expecting to be berated by seungkwan the moment he stepped foot into the practice room, being scolded over being a careless boyfriend. even as annoyed as he was at his friend, he knew he was right. he hadn't meant to, but ultimately he had forgotten about you. it sucked to think about how he had bid you goodbye just this morning with not a single care in the world, now realizing that you were probably alone and feeling disregarded by him. i mean, for fuck's sakes, he had told you to take the day off a few weeks back. promising a fun afternoon together after he got off work. and now he had completely forgotten about it.
he needed to fix this, and quick.
like any lovesick guy (such as chan, who was immensely down bad for you), he ran to leave practice. he knew soonyoung would have his ass on a silver platter the moment he arrived and noticed chan's absence, but after weighing his options (hurting your feelings vs. being berated by yet another one of his older brothers), he decided you were the clear priority.
ran might've been an overstatement, but he did rush as much as he could. he wanted to account for the extra time he'd need to spend to stop by a flower shop on the way in order to beg for forgiveness in a more heartfelt way.
after picking a bouquet of your favorites, he instructed the driver to take him to your address, which led him to his current predicament as he stood outside your apartment door, breathless due to having ran up the stairs in very dramatic fashion. what could he say? he was just a boy in love.
the moment you opened the door to his knocks, he rushed in, rambling endless apologies to you as he handed you the flowers, professing his love to you while also whining (mostly at himself) that seungkwan of all people had been the one to remind him of the love of his life's special day. it was funny, really, how he didn't seem to run out of words when expressing his regret at his mistake.
you interrupted him halfway through his fourth apology, giggling at his widened eyes. okay, this was not exactly the reaction he was expecting.
'chan! jesus, breathe', you interrupted, 'i'm not mad. i mean, i was. but you literally only left an hour ago, i cant believe you're back already.'
'i headed back the moment kwan told me. baby. i'm sorry. i had planned to take the day off and surprise you, it just slipped my mind, i swe-'
'chan! it's fine! i'm not- i'm not mad, i promise. the fact that you came back running is so ... it's funny', you giggled again, 'but its also very sweet. you have nothing to apologize for, okay? i'm just happy you're here.'
he hugged you after that, disregarding the flowers in your hands as he nuzzled his nose into your hair.
'remind me to thank kwannie for reminding my bad, forgetful boyfriend about my birthday.'
'yah! you're not allowed to hang out with him anymore, okay? he's a bad influence', he complained against you, enjoying the vibration of your laugh in return.
a/n: sorry some are way angstier than others ;-; i wanted to vary them a little. anyways tysm if u read the entirety of this mini series <3
SAYING SOMETHING THEY DIDN'T MEAN IN A FIGHT | PERFORMANCE UNIT



𐙚 JUN
it would take a lot for jun to say something he didn’t mean, especially when it comes to you. he was always wary of what he was saying during fights or quarrels to not say something he’d regret later, but there were times where he was just too tired to think about what he was saying. i think he’d be the quickest out of all of them to apologise, like the second the hurtful words leave his mouth he’s already apologising, he just can’t stand your sad and disappointed expression.
“i’m so sorry, honey. i didn’t mean it, i truly didn’t mean it. i know i can’t make excuses now, i’m so sorry, baby.”
jun started babbling, not even letting you breathe after what he had just said. you wouldn’t lie - his words hurt, especially because jun never raised his voice at you during fights, so yes, you were sad and upset, but at the same time, a part of you couldn’t help but think how adorable he looked right now.
jun’s eyes were wide in panic, and he was holding your hands tightly in his, as if he was scared that you’d run away, which to be honest - you’d do if he didn’t have such a strong hold on you. hearing something so hurtful from the person you loved the most wasn’t easy, you felt betrayed and disappointed by his actions, but you didn’t want him to get so worked up over this either. “jun, baby, calm down.”
“no, i won’t. you have to believe me that i didn’t mean it.” you cupped his face in your hands, so his frantic eyes would focus on you for more than a second. “let’s just talk about it, k’ay?”
jun nodded his head quickly, helping you settle on the couch next to him, where you’d calmly talk about what had just happened (he’d keep on apologising for the rest of the day, even if you said you forgave him).
𐙚 HOSHI
things could get heated with this one really quickly, especially if he was stressed because of work or his schedules. hoshi would never intentionally take out his anger on you, but at the same time i don’t think he’s the best at managing his emotions, especially anger. he’d be so disappointment in himself after, though - like, the moment he says something hurtful (that he of course didn’t mean) he’d blame himself so much, and knowing that he hurt you would break his heart.
no words could describe the disappointment and embarrassment with himself that hoshi felt then. how could he hurt his loved one in such a cruel way? you didn't do anything wrong and he let his words and anger get the best of him, leaving you sobbing quietly in the middle of the living room.
“baby…” he felt like he didn’t deserve to call you that after what he had said, and you definitely looked even more upset hearing the pet name. “why would you say that?” you asked, your voice laced with so much sadness, hoshi felt his own heart breaking. he was sure your crying face would haunt him in his dreams now, but he deserved it.
hoshi knew it’d be for the best to leave you alone for a while now, so you could calm down and collect your thoughts, but he was afraid that if you left now, you wouldn't come back. he wouldn't even realise when his own tears would start running down his cheeks too. “I’m so sorry,” he’d whisper, covering his face in shame.
“i can’t hear you, honey,” you sniffled, wiping your face dry. “i-i’m s-sorry,” he hiccuped between the sobs. at the end, you both would start crying in each other's embrace.
of course you wouldn't forgive him right away, but you didn't want him to worry that you would leave him.
𐙚 MINGHAO
i feel like making minghao mad isn’t that hard, but that doesn’t mean he’d just lash out and take all of his anger on you, especially because he is a person that is good at managing his emotions. things could get really heated because of his pettiness and passive aggressiveness, though. sometimes he wouldn’t think through what he was saying or how he was acting, and how it would affect you.
“wow, minghao,” you muttered, looking at him with disbelief. “is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”
when he didn’t answer, you turned on your heel and walked out to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. minghao, on the other hand, stood in the middle of the living room trying to wrap his head around what had just happened - what he had just said to you. the guilt started to catch up to him, his chest filling with crushing pain.
what made minghao feel even worse was that he didn’t react immediately and apologised. he didn’t even realise how much his words had hurt you at that moment, which made him feel like he was the worst boyfriend ever.
he’d give you some time alone, but when bedtime came, he’d softly knock on the door, your favourite snacks on a plate, and your favourite hoodie of his in his hand, and wait for you to open up. then, he’d apologise and have a proper, calm conversation with you. it was rare that you went to bed angry, minghao always made sure you’d make up before falling asleep, because in no universe would he be able to fall asleep knowing you were angry with him.
𐙚 CHAN
chan would never intentionally say anything to hurt you, you were the love of his life and he swore to do anything to keep you happy and safe at all times, so you’d have to get in a really big fight for him to say something hurtful. and honestly it would break his heart seeing your reaction to his words, he just wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. and as much as i don’t think that chan is an insecure person, i think he’d need a lot of reassurance after a fight that you still love him and that you’re not going to leave him.
chan stared in horror as a tear ran down your cheek. “baby, i didn’t… i don’t-” he saw your eyes fill with even more tears and if he only understood what had just happened, he would have immediately hugged you, but the problem was that he himself didn't know what had just happened. how the fuck could words like those even leave his mouth?
“are u going to say anything else?” you asked, sadness filling your voice. "say something chan," but he couldn't, he stood still, he even stopped breathing. shame and embarrassment consumed him completely, he didn't know how he would ever be able to look at himself after saying such nasty words to you.
he would stand and watch as you passed by him to leave the apartment, but he still wouldn't be able to move. when he finally realised that you had left the house and left him, he would just break down and cry in the middle of the room from the feeling of being so helpless. what if you really left him?
he wouldn't try to text or call you because he’d be afraid that all he’d hear would be "we’re over chan, don't call me ever again," and he wouldn't be surprised if you did. he acted like a total jerk.
when it finally started to get dark and you managed to calm yourself down, you went back to your place to calmly talk to your boyfriend, but all you’d find would be chan sleeping on your side of the bed, cuddled into your pillow with dried tears on his cheeks. that night he would be the little spoon, cuddled in your arms.
taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @soul-is-a-strange-kid @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @hafsah-ali @mrswonwooo
hoshi and friends with benifts please!!

kwon soonyoung as your friend with benefits

fucky buddy soonyoung with whom you decided this relationship after you had a (what was supposed to be) one-night stand but the night turned out to be to good to be a one-time thing
fucky buddy soonyoung who saved your contact as "best pussy"
fucky buddy soonyoung who is both a body worshipper and a dirty degraded and could almost make you cum by his smooth mouth alone
fucky buddy soonyoung who loves eating you out and whose tongue is smooth in other ways too, from the way he can pull orgasms after orgasms from his tongue alone
fucky buddy soonyoung who has you equally cockdrunk over him as he is oussydrunk over you
fucky buddy soonyoung who fucks you with so much passion and energy, his cock hitting your sweet spot everytime
fucky buddy soonyoung who makes the sexiest grunting sounds in bed, and sometimes woo-hoos after he cums in you (its a little embarrassing but its also so cute you don't want him to stop that silly habit)
fucky buddy soonyoung who eye-fucks you everytime you two meet up in public to have dinner before fucking, and in return you shove your red heels to his crotch (thank go for the long table cloth at you usual diner)
fucky buddy soonyoung who always take you to a good hotel or his room instead of cheap motels because he is not risking any sort of STDs for either of you
fucky buddy soonyoung who has had the biggest fattest crush on you since your first night and it just keeps growing but he is too much of a coward to say it out loud
fucky buddy soonyoung who has fucked you in more positions and places than any of your exes have combined -- from the kitchen to bathroom to the dance studio where he works.
fucky buddy soonyoung who loves experimenting with all of your freaking kinks as you explore with his (both with pre-discussed consent ofcourse)
fucky buddy soonyoung who insists you stay over the night everytime just so he can watch your sweet sleeping figure.
fucky buddy soonyoung who makes breakfasts for you more often than not
fucky buddy soonyoung who has a drawer in his closet for you to keep your extra clothes and toiletries for when you have to leave early in the mornings after your nights
fucky buddy soonyoung who insists you two hang out more often apart from your sexy nights as well because he genuinely wants to know you better as a person
fucky buddy soonyoung whose friends tease him everytime you're around and its hard not to pick up on all these clues, especially from the way he gets so flustered and annoyed at them
fucky buddy soonyoung who you finally confront about his feelings and revealing your own crush for him in the process
fucky buddy soonyoung who is a blushing mess when you kiss him for the first time from love and not lust.
this deserves so much more love
You Changed Everything

Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x gn!reader
Genre: angst, fluff
Word Count: 10,6k
Wanings: some stronger language. mentions of violence, blood and injuries. it is implied that y/n was in a gang. small food and alcohol mentions.
[Series: Serenity Street 17] Two runaways meet in a bar and decide to get an apartment together to escape their worries. Their relationship has fuzzy borders from then on as they explore each other’s past and worries.
Note: a lot more angst than i’m used to writing but my bestie said the fic is just a mildly angsty house husband au, so idek.

You met him on a rainy summer evening.
Though you had put in some effort to dress up nicer than you usually would, you still looked and felt like a mess. Your drink sloshed around in the glass but you had little to no interest in it that night. If anything, it was an excuse to escape to this bar.
You barely liked the place more than you liked the people in it, but you supposed it was an improvement from your normal life. At the very least the lights were prettier there, shining gold and red.
Your thoughts drowned out any sound that echoed between the walls. Perhaps that’s why he caught you off-guard.
Keep reading
❖ let's get you to bed // kwon hoshi



requested by @phenomenalgirl9 : So its been really rainy in my city and I've been having a really huge work load cause we have a project closing soon. Can you write something with (all that and) Ramyeon + spam + kimchi + KWON HOSHI.
hoshi x gn!reader, 1.5k+ words
tags: dancer!hoshi again not rlly relevant to plot, sick fic, fluff, established relationship
warnings: food, reader is sick, pet names (baby)
notes: kinda incorporated a req into this sick fic that i wanted to write hehe. might also write another sick fic depending on if i have time,,,,

It’s a Friday. Soonyoung gets home when it’s well past 10 in the evening, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. Neither is it totally out of the ordinary for you to be waiting on the couch, the TV set to a volume so low that there’s no way that you’re actually listening to it.
It’s not normal for him to be upset by that, though.
“Baby.”
You looked up at his voice, and you don’t even seem to notice the heavy disappointment in his words as you rub your eyes, voice all croaky as you smile. “Hey, Soonyoung.”
Soonyoung frowns, taking off his shoes and dropping his bag by his bedroom door, before padding across the apartment and into the living room. “You’re sick.”
You nod, sniffing, before reaching over to the tissue box balanced on the arm of the couch. “I am.” A loud blow of your nose emphasises your point.
Sighing, Soonyoung shakes his head. He crosses the living room, turning on the lights and turning off the TV. You hiss at the sudden brightness, holding your head, and he walks over to poke your forehead lightly, leaning down to look you right in the eye, his face set in an unhappy pout.
“You should’ve been resting, then,” he says, pouting even more. He holds a hand over your forehead, eyes softening when you lean into his hand. “Look at you, you’re burning up again.”
Outside, the wind howls harder, and the rain batters against the windows. It’s been thunderstorming for a good two weeks now, and you’ve managed to avoid getting sick for all that time. But, just yesterday, you’d caught the dreaded illness that had been going around, leaving you bedridden and incapable of going to work for two days straight.
Soonyoung is a big believer of rest being one of the best medicines for colds, so as he tweaks your nose disapprovingly while you try to explain that you stayed up to greet him, you know that he’s disappointed in your behaviour.
“Baby,” he says sadly, “you’re really sick. Your nose is all bunged up, and you have a really bad fever. Don’t you think you should’ve stayed in bed?”
Your face falls, sad that you’ve made Soonyoung sad, and your boyfriend smooths back your hair consolingly. You know that he’s scolding you like this because he cares about your health, but you still really wanted to see him.
“Wanted to see you before the day ended,” you admit, and he coos softly, fingers brushing over the top of your head before he stands up. “I haven’t seen you all day. I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” he says, all gooey soft, and no matter the situation, hearing and seeing your boyfriend becoming so devastatingly soft just for you always makes you flush. “But we gotta get you back to bed, baby. Come on. Up you get. Have you had any medicine yet?”
Soonyoung straightens, standing up properly, and you look up at him for a moment before giving him your biggest, wet puppy eyes, holding your arms out wide.
“Carry me?” you ask, and Soonyoung blinks down at you for a long moment.
But almost instantly, his face is breaking into a fond smile, lips curling upwards as he leans forward again so you can wrap your arms around his neck, humming happily when he lifts you with ease, carrying you back to your room.
Perks of having a dancer boyfriend: he can carry you when you’re sick.
He settles you under your covers, stroking the hair out of your face, lips twitching upwards as you sniff loudly to try and unblock your nose.
“Cute,” he murmurs as he sits on your bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, and oddly, that small detail is infinitely reassuring to you. You want to laugh at how ridiculous it is that he finds you sniffling wetly to be something cute, too. but your head hurts too much to do so, and you feel really dizzy. Goodness, maybe you are really sick.
“Baby,” you mumble, and he hums to show he’s listening. “Baby, ‘m tired.”
Soonyoung laughs at that, nudging the side of his finger against your cheek affectionately. “I can imagine. Don’t go to sleep yet, though. You need to have some meds.”
He stands up, then, and a cold sense of panic washes over you, grabbing onto his hand before he can go too far.
“Don’t go,” you say to him, fingers enclosing around his cool wrist. Your own skin is crawling with an uncomfortable heat, and Soonyoung’s hand is a blessed relief. “Please, don’t go.”
Soonyoung looks pained, and he slides his hand down in your hold to intertwine your fingers. He kisses your knuckles, soft, and you almost think he’s going to stay before he releases your hand. “I need to get your medicine,” he says gently. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
You whine, disappointed, before your breath catches on a particularly nasty cough that dissolves into several more, leaving you gasping. Soonyoung’s hand is instantly on your back, rubbing circles, and his voice is quiet and concerned as he speaks again.
“See? You stay here, and I’ll get you something to ease your pain. Okay?”
Reluctantly, you nod, sinking back into the pillows as Soonyoung’s fingers brush over your forehead once more before he exits your room.
—
It takes half an hour for Soonyoung to come back.
You don’t notice, too preoccupied with how hard your head is pounding and how your tongue feels like it’s swelled up and is taking up far too much space inside your mouth. Nothing feels like it fits right.
Your nose is running really badly, too, and you don’t have any tissues in your room.
By the time Soonyoung comes back, you’re focused more on the box of tissues he has balanced on a tray, rather than the other things that are gently steaming alongside it.
He sets the tissues on the bedside table and you grab one immediately, wiping your nose and blowing loudly with an almost comical ‘honk’. Soonyoung chuckles, sitting down on your bed again and placing the tray on your knees.
“Here,” he says, drawing your attention to what else is on the tray, and you blink in surprise.
There’s a bowl of cup noodles in your lap, the steam wafting from the noodles and if your nose wasn’t so blocked, you know that is would have smelled incredible. You smile, touched, before Soonyoung leans over and turns on your bedside lamp and you gasp.
There are chunks of spam in the noodles, which is utterly delightful because he knows how much you love spam, but also…
“This is from my beloved kimchi stash,” Soonyoung informs you when you look up at him to see if you’re seeing this correctly. “The one that my mother made. Since my baby is so sick,” he says, pinching your cheek fondly, “I thought I really should give some to you.”
“Aw, thank you so much,” you say with a smile, and your voice comes out unexpectedly croaky, making Soonyoung chuckle. He pinches your cheek again, adoring.
“Go on. Eat up.”
You can’t really eat much, taking small bites of the noodles, because as much as you want to simply devour the cheap carbs and artificial flavourings, your head is still, admittedly, spinning a little too much. Soonyoung brings a glass of water to your lips just as your swallowing your fifth mouthful, gentle and attentive.
He makes you take some pills then, too, and you try and finish off your meal. But it’s late, and the meds are making you feel drowsy, so you’re only halfway through when your eyes begin to droop.
“Hey, hey, careful,” Soonyoung laughs softly, fingers tilting your head upwards when it lolls dangerously, chopsticks full of kimchi hanging limp in your fingers. “Okay. Let’s get you to sleep, baby.”
He removes the tray from your lap, making soft noises back at you when you whine at the loss of your ramyeon and kimchi.
“I’ll give it to you again tomorrow,” he promises, and you feel placated at that.
You’re horribly uncoordinated, due to your sickness and your sleepiness, and you hum appreciatively as Soonyoung takes one of the tissues and wipes down your mouth, before taking another tissue and blowing your nose for you too.
It’s a sweet gesture, albeit a little clumsy, and it has you smiling drowsily up at him.
“I love you,” you murmur as he tucks you in, his fingers tracing gentle patterns across your cheek. “Love you, Soonyoungie.”
“I love you too,” Soonyoung whispers back, and the sound of his voice is so soft. “My Y/N.”
Soonyoung is a gentle person at heart, full of precious love and the desire to love and be loved delicately. And it’s during moments like this that you can see that shining through.
Your eyes slip closed—warm, content, loved—and Soonyoung presses a feather-light kiss to your head just before you fall away to dreamland.

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29
charity f*ck (k.s)

Have you ever taken anyone’s virginity before? Well, yeah, your first time was both losing your own and taking someone else’s but, that was a long time ago. Have you ever taken the virginity of a twenty-six-year-old man who probably should have gotten laid by now anyway? Nope. Are you about to? Yep.
or the one where soonyoung has a streak of bad luck in bed and his friends make fun of him for it, you find him advertising himself on a dating app and decide to help him out.
ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do.
WORDCOUNT― 12.2k
PAIRING― soonyoung x afab reader
CONTENT― virgin guy who lives with his parents!soonyoung, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that format for a lil bit (THIS IS NOT A SOCIAL MEDIA AU), facetime-sex, real life sex
SIDE CHARACTERS― Vernon as reader’s best friend and roommate, Seungcheol briefly as Hoshi’s friend.
WARNINGS― he’s made fun of by his friends for being a virgin, this is not an indication that you shouldn’t remain a virgin if you still are one! it’s fictional and i do not agree with mocking someone for their virginity in real life.
NOTE― i love him and i like the idea of him being clumsy during sex, i also like the idea of him being inexperienced but suuuuuuper eager to pretend he knows what he’s doing. shoutout to my redacted wife @onlyseokmins for proof reading this <3
smut tags under cut::
smut tags―big huge dick soonyoung, phone sex (ish), face time sex, masturbation, pet name: baby, making out, he eats you out twice, fingering, whining and whimpering, deep throating, premature ejaculation, desperate man wants his dick wet lmao, grinding, tit fondling/licking, clit stimulation, he bites the fuck out of his tongue to try and distract himself from coming too soon again, no condom aka cream pie, soonyoung gets feelings like immediately when u touch him ~
“Check this shit out,” you laugh, presenting your phone to Vernon with a chuckle. “right or left?”
Vernon snorts, nearly spitting out the bite of food in his mouth as he reads the bio of the man you’re showing to him.
“Depends, you trying to take his innocence or are you trying to get railed so hard that the entire building can hear?” He narrows his eyes at you, making a point to call you out for keeping him awake last weekend.
You wave him off with an apologetic look. To be fair, the dude from before knew how to make a girl moan, it’s not your fault that you managed to find a decent lay in this city. Even if he ghosted you, you assume you may have been a bad lay for him, if anything.
“I wouldn’t mind trying something new, dude seems desperate.” You swipe through his photos, seeing that he appears to be just a normal dude with normal interests. “He’s cute too, so I’m swiping right.”
Vernon groans this time, slapping a hand to his forehead and glaring at you.
“You’d better warn me if you end up bringing him home, I’m not about to listen to some guy start crying over a blowjob.”
You nod to him, sending a message to the eighty-six-year-old Soonyoung and feeling delighted at his near-instant response to you.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure you’re out of the apartment if I invite him over,” You wiggle your brows as you stand to your feet and turn toward your room, eyes now glued to the open dating app’s messages. “Maybe you should go out and find a nice girl to rail to get back at me.”
“You’re so fucking weird.” Vernon laughs but feels kind of shitty because it’s not like he hasn’t been trying to get back at you for the loud sex. Guess he just doesn’t have the magic dick to make girls moan the way you do.
Not that he wants to make you moan or anything, he definitely doesn’t. If anything, he wishes you were more like the girls he brings home.
~
You: i’ve never seen a virgin grandpa on this app before
Soonyoung: ….i’m 26, it says that in my bio
You: I think you’re lying.
Soonyoung: do u know how to change it, my bitch friends won't tell me lol
You: why would i help you lie to the women in our city
Soonyoung: i’m not lying!!1
You laugh to yourself as you text the new sex interest in your life, wondering if he’s lying about his presumed virginity.
You: ok, twenty-six-year-old “hoshi” who is five miles away from me, you’re actually a virgin? Like for real?
Soonyoung: yea….are u here to make fun of me for it too? all the girls here just turn me down even if i offer to cook for them after
You: you’re really just looking to get laid for the first time, ever? and you’re offering to cook dinner too?
Soonyoung: yea
You: you’ve never had a blowjob or anything like that? you can’t seriously think I can believe you’re 26 and have never been laid, it’s not like you’re ugly or anything
Soonyoung: u don’t think im ugly? :)
Soonyoung: and yea I’ve had a blowjob before
You: why didn’t you sleep with her then?
Soonyoung: can we stop talking about why im a virgin
You: for now, but im gonna ask again eventually.
You’re smiling at your phone, finding him charming and awkward in how he communicates with you via messenger. Of course, you’re curious as to why he’s a virgin, even more, curious as to why he’s on a dating app looking to lose said virginity.
You: do you want my number? it’s embarrassing to have the app open in public if i wanna talk to you.
Soonyoung, on the other hand, is quite literally kicking his feet and checking your profile every few minutes just to look at you. He didn’t even think too hard about you calling him attractive then not following up on it, because the fact that you just offered your number to him in case you want to talk to him? Butterflies. Given, it’s juvenile for someone of his age to still be experiencing the typical high-school crush feelings, would anyone blame him? It’s just how he is, with or without having had sex. He can’t imagine not feeling giddy inside when he’s talking to someone that he thinks is pretty.
Soonyoung: yea :) u can text me whenever [redacted phone number]
You respond to him by texting his number rather than using the app messenger, screenshotting his contact info, and sending it to him with a sly smile.
You:

Grandpa Hoshi: :|
Grandpa Hoshi: im 26
~
Okay so, here’s the thing. Soonyoung is undeniably funny, witty, and kind. Another thing, he’s wildly attractive. Especially upon fulfilling your request for a workout selfie from him. So, what gives? You read the texts he’s sent that made you laugh out loud, you look at his pictures, stare at the workout selfie, and you genuinely cannot understand how he doesn’t have women waiting in line to have at him.
You: it’s been like four days since we started talking
Grandpa Hoshi: yep, almost five
You: four days of being friends but no mention of your bio on the app, yknow, where you’re begging to have sex for the first time ever?
Grandpa Hoshi: right, yea. you wanna do it? i didn’t wanna assume lol
You: not answering that til you explain why. i mean, it’s totally ok that you are but like, you’re a green flag all around so im a little worried you might have like a micropenis or something
Disclaimer, if he had a micropenis, you’d still let him use it on you. After all, hooking up is something you enjoy doing regardless of size.
Grandpa Hoshi: i do NOT have a micropenis
You: prove it
Grandpa Hoshi: right now???
You laugh to yourself but also like, it’s the first time the two of you have done anything more than bully each other. Or rather, you bully him and he defends himself constantly.
You: answer my question first
It takes a few minutes for him to respond, but you’re doing coursework anyway so it’s not a huge deal. Totally not like your ears perk up and a smile creeps across your face every time your phone goes off or anything. Definitely not.
Grandpa Hoshi: um… i still live with my parents and before u make fun of me for that pls understand that its not like i wanna be here
Grandpa Hoshi: i have a job and everything!!! im not a mooch!
He’s getting off track again. You could honestly care less if he still lives with his parents. You wish you still lived with yours, to save money at least.
You: they won’t let you have anyone over?
Grandpa Hoshi: well, that too but
Grandpa Hoshi: listen this sounds real stupid but it just never happened? even when i tried or things almost happened, it never did
You: damn, you’re unlucky. so what happened with the girl who gave you a blowjob?
Grandpa Hoshi: her boyfriend walked in
You: WHAT
You’re trying to pity him, honestly, but damn. Did he go for a taken girl? Yikes. You hate to admit the ick that just flooded your mind.
Grandpa Hoshi: its not like i knew she had a boyfriend
You: phew
Grandpa Hoshi: so yea. do u wanna help me out or not?
The whole reason you started talking to him was specifically to help him out. Now that you know he’s not some weirdo, and is definitely super hot and funny, hell yes.
You: yeah, sure.
You: about the micropenis though,
Grandpa Hoshi: right…um
A few minutes of silence, your coursework is long forgotten in the anticipation of receiving your first nude from Soonyoung. You wait, and you wait, and you wait.
You: i mean if you can’t prove it that's ok
Grandpa Hoshi: just give me a sec damn
He’s doing his best to get the most attractive angle. It’s not like he’s never sent nudes to anyone or anything, but like– this is you. The first person to actually agree to take his virginity. Should he hold it? Put a remote next to it for size? Should he have his face in the pic? Take a mirror pic?
Of course, as he’s taking several pictures of his length to try and impress you, he had to get hard first. He can’t imagine you’d want a flaccid cock pic in your inbox, and that would also mean that he’s working himself up with the amount of touching, holding, and groping throughout the past sixteen photos he’s taken and deleted. It’s at the point that now it’s actually hard to care about taking a photo, pre-cum already dripping out of him as he continues to try.
He’s entered the realm of his regular horny self, only this time he’s texting you. Someone who wants to see what he’s packing. Taking a dick pic is insanely easy once he stops thinking with his brain, and he’s quick to send you a photo of himself this time. His chin at the top of the picture, face entirely hidden, hand wrapped around his thick and leaking cock, sweatpants shoved down.
Grandpa Hoshi: [image attachment]
In all fairness, you’ve never actually cared much for dick pics. Men always look too confident even with the smallest of girth being offered through the pixels. Soonyoung though. He looks a bit desperate even with his face hidden. His cock looks desperate, his fingers wrapped around it look desperate, the way his sweatpants hug against his thighs look desperate. And now, you feel desperate. You keep your cool though.
You: oh, you were jerking off, got it.
Grandpa Hoshi: sorry can’t help it
Then he doesn’t text you back. Which is kind of a drag because he looks to be quite big in the photo alone. Maybe you’d be okay just this once to look like the desperate one. Mostly because you’re about ten seconds from trying to figure out which direction five miles away he resides so you can go palm his cock for him. Plus, the idea of an absolute simp virgin like him seeing you act a little desperate would probably be one for the books.
You: you know i can help you out with that, right? especially since you definitely don’t have a micropenis
You’re still being ignored. The silence from your phone makes your belly flip around inside of you at the image of him doing it too. He probably does it a lot. He’s probably desperate to feel good, you can imagine how he’d act if you were in front of him right now, the very idea of taking his virginity becoming entirely too attractive.
Shrugging, knowing full well what he’s doing right now in order to ignore you, you press the call button and wait. You’re a little bit nervous, mostly because you’ve never actually heard his voice before, or better yet how he sounds when he’s getting off. You’re shocked that he actually answers.
“Hello?” He says, muffled through the phone and trying to sound not-so-out-of-breath. It’s not like he looked at who was calling him anyway. With his luck, it’s probably Seungcheol or some shit.
“Don’t hello me,” You gripe, narrowing your eyes at yourself in your mirror. “You’re just gonna jerk off without me after I agreed to help you fix your little problem?”
The silence on his end is a bit nerve-wracking until you hear the frantic sound of his palm clearly wreaking havoc on him. You smirk, leaning back on your chair and sighing. On his end, processing that it was you on the other line sent his entire body into a state of burning with arousal. Your voice is sweet even when you speak with the same sarcasm as usual. God, this alone is enough for him right now.
“Were you at least thinking of me?”
He hums into the phone, indicating that yes, that’s exactly what he’s doing. His voice is kind of soft despite only hearing one word and a hum, you want to actually hear him talk to you, or moan, whichever he decides.
“Were you looking at my pictures?”
He nods his head, forgetting that you’re not able to see him and instantly responds with a small and breathy yes instead. It’s a bit difficult for him right now to talk, especially now that he can put a voice to the photos he’s been jerking off to. It’s a bit overwhelming, actually.
“Do you want better ones?” You ask, encouraging him to speak a bit more.
“Oh god, really?” He asks through the speaker, his hand pausing on his length as if to hold off until you confirm. “Like, nudes?”
“Mhm, yeah. If you want.” You smile as you speak to him, already standing to shimmy your pajamas off of you and stand in front of the mirror. “Or, you know what would be better?”
Letting me come over and actually do it? That’s what he wants to say to you, but he doesn’t, he simply raises a brow.
“What?” He asks, still keeping his responses short because despite how into this he is, he’s a bit shy about it.
“I can facetime you.”
He panics. That means you’ll be watching him too, right? Sure he’s sent nudes, he’s received nudes. He’s sent videos too, and received them. But never has he like, you know, live masturbated on facetime so someone else can watch.
“If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” You backtrack at his silence, but you’re cut off almost immediately.
“No! no, we can facetime–”
Your stomach flips again as you fix yourself quickly in the mirror before setting your phone against your desk and rolling back a bit in your chair to determine if it’ll work this way or not. It’s not like he’s expecting you to do it too, he probably just thinks you’re gonna sit here naked for him to stare at. You’re kind of excited to see him in action, to hear him in action for you.
You hit the button to switch the call over to facetime and once again adjust your phone as you stare at yourself in the camera. Then you’re needing to catch your breath at the image of him.
There he is, his camera angled towards his face and not at all toward what's going on below his waist, but you don’t mind at first. Look at him, the lighting clearly shows that he’s a fan of mood lighting. You watch his eyes briefly, staring through the screen at you before moving your eyes to his arm, the one that clearly isn’t holding his phone because you can see it moving as he continues to jerk himself off. It’s an interesting feeling to have only seen him in photos until this moment, and it’s insanely attractive for some reason. Seeing him in motion, knowing what he’s doing, knowing that he feels good right now because of you.
“Let me see,” you say quietly, adjusting your bra strap and preparing to slip it off of you if he so much as asks. “Prop your phone up somewhere like I did.”
He nods, his eyes still staring straight through his screen at you as he moves around and the image becomes a blur of movement rather than his face. He settles in quickly, somehow looking even more attractive with the way his eyes no longer stare at the screen. You can almost sense a hint of shyness from him at this moment and it kind of floors you, given how easy he is to talk to and how easily he sent a dick pic to you.
“Feeling shy?” You ask, spreading your legs wide and cupping the seat of your panties, hiding the small spot of wetness forming there. “You act like I’m not going to be touching you at some point soon.”
You see him perk up, his eyes looking to you on the screen with more fondness than arousal. At the same time, his hand grips the base of his cock as he holds it straight up, erect and glistening proudly for you to look at.
“You look pretty big, bet you could fill me up so nicely,” You try to compliment, boosting his confidence and ego as best you can simply because he looks pretty with a smile on his face. Especially when his cock twitches at the words. “Would you want to do that for me, Hoshi?”
“Oh god,” He groans, hearing his nickname come from your mouth for the first time. His hand jerks up his length once, almost aggressively as he winces at it.
“This is going to be so embarrassing.” He admits, sliding his palm up and down shamelessly now as he watches between your spread legs.
“Embarrassing, why?” You chuckle, tapping now at the spot between your legs. “Can you not see that I’m just as turned on right now?”
He groans again, releasing his length and using that same hand to swipe his hair out of his face, then immediately grimacing at the fact that he now has pre-cum in his hair. Embarrassing, all of it.
“Well,” He tries to avoid you bringing up the fact that he just did that and only shoots his hand back to his cock in order to distract whatever off-hand shit you’re about to say. “You don’t even have your panties off yet, and I could probably get off right now.”
You laugh, not wanting to ruin the mood with the whole cum on his own face thing, so you save that for later. Instead, you instantly slip your panties off and present yourself to him much like he’s doing for you.
“Better?”
Soonyoung watched with his breath stuck in his throat, now finding it harder to breathe at the image of your pussy and the way he hopes he can touch it one day.
“Can you–” He pauses, not being used to dirty talk towards anything other than the porn playing on his phone. He thinks hard, and you can see it based on the way he, once again, neglects his cock with an unmoving palm.
“Can I do what? Go on,” You urge him, running a hand up to your chest and fondling your nipples right there in front of him, but not yet moving the fabric. “What do you want me to do for you, baby?”
Baby. You called him baby. Not that he’s into that but the fact that you did it makes him wonder if he is now. Maybe it’s because he wants you to take him for all he’s worth at this point. One, to get rid of the virginity looming over his head, and two, because you sound so fucking smooth when you’re watching him get off.
“Can you spread your pussy for me?” He whispers at first, boring a hole through his screen as he watches one of your hands tease at your hidden nipples, and the other hand sliding up and down the wet folds there. So badly does he want to see it. He wants to see your hole pulsing for him, leaking, needy.
His cock twitches wildly the second you do it for him. Two fingers spreading your pussy open and tensing your hips just to move it closer to the screen for him.
“You want to fuck this?” You chuckle softly, slowly dipping a finger into yourself and pulling it back out to present the wetness for him.
“Oh,” he sighs, now fucking into his fist at a pace that proves he’s most definitely never fucked a woman before. “Fuck.”
You nod at him, urging him to keep admitting his attraction to you. You’re aware he doesn’t see it though, as his hips continue to move quicker and quicker each time you press your finger into yourself.
“You gonna act like this when I’m riding you?” You ask with a tilted head, studying how hard he’s fucking against his hand. You can imagine how good it would feel if it were you, and quite frankly, this one finger isn’t enough at this point.
“God. You’re gonna ride me?” He moans, eyes rolling only slightly as he imagines it.
“Mhm,” you hum, now sliding in another finger and scissoring yourself open with them. “Would you want that?”
Before you can even work yourself up, and before he can even answer that question, you see him release. His cum shooting out in spurts across his stomach and nearly up to his chest. His labored breathing shifts the lighting against his abs and makes it look so entirely delicious. You’ve never wanted to lick a man clean so badly in your life.
You’re not even upset that he didn’t make it into the knitty gritty, considering he’s a virgin and all and you’re literally fucking yourself in front of him while implying riding him. You’re actually flattered.
His release caused him to see white for several moments, forgetting he’s even on camera for you. When he comes back to reality, watching you continue to finger yourself as your eyes scan your screen, all he can do is feel bashful.
“Shit, sorry,” He comments with a half laugh, looking down at his cum covered chest before looking at you again. Honestly, he could probably go again if you let him watch for a bit longer, but he’s embarrassed now. “I uh, didn’t mean to come that fast. It just kind of happened.”
“It’s okay,” You comfort him, slightly out of breath as you wonder if this is all you’re gonna get tonight. “It was cute.”
After a few moments, you sense his embarrassment and slowly slip yourself back into a sobering headspace, closing your legs and trying to ignore how wet you still are.
“Are you, um, done?” Soonyoung says, disappointed.
“Mm, no.” You smile. “But it’s okay, I’d rather make you come first anyway.”
His face lights up despite the disappointment in his gut of not being able to see you get off.
“You still wanna see me after this?”
You nod with a smile, endeared by his need to give, but inability to do it.
“When are you free?” You ask, wondering if he’s ever going to clean himself up.
“Whenever you are.” He laughs, scratching the back of his head with, once again, the same cum-stained hand.
“I’ll text you later then,” You smile through the screen and give a small wave before your genuine smile turns into a smirk. “After I take care of my little problem though.”
You notice him sitting up in protest, but you hang up with a satisfied laugh and head to the shower to both finish yourself off and clean up.
~
Grandpa Hoshi: what about 3pm on thurs?
You: you want to lose your virginity at 3pm….on a thursday???
Grandpa Hoshi: my parents have plans so ill have the house to myself for a few hours
You: or you could just come here?
Grandpa Hoshi: if ur comfortable with that? i thought u were supposed to come here lol
You: im comfortable, plus my roommate will kick your ass if you’re weird
Soonyoung contemplates hard on that last part but shrugs over it. Probably a girl thing, and it’s not like he’s an actual creep or anything. You’d be the one with power over him when the two of you are alone anyway.
You: what about tomorrow, 8pm?
Tomorrow. Hell yeah, tomorrow. Hell, he’d show up right the fuck now if you let him. He may live with his parents but he’s got a car.
Grandpa Hoshi: send ur address, ill be there :)
~
“Tomorrow, you’ll be a man.” Seungcheol croaks through the speaker at Soonyoung, totally assuming that this whole virginity loss dating app plan was actually just a joke.
“Why do you have to say it that way?” Soonyoung groans back, slapping his hand over his forehead and rubbing his temples. “I didn’t think anyone was actually gonna come through, she’s the first one.”
“What makes you think she’s actually gonna send you her address?” Seungcheol laughs, once again placing more pity onto his best friend than anything else. “She’s probably not even a real person, you’re gonna end up at some old guy’s house.”
Soonyoung laughs, or snorts really.
“Oh, she’s real.”
Seungcheol sits up in curiosity this time, switching his phone to the other ear with interest.
“Hm? Have you already met her?”
“Kind of. We like, um,” Soonyoung pauses, wondering if he sounds way too excited to tell him or not. “We facetimed a few hours ago.”
Silence.
“She got naked.”
“Oh ho ho!” Seungcheol encourages him. “So you guys did some stuff on facetime and she still wants to meet you?”
“That’s what I said!--” Soonyoung smiles to himself, about two seconds from kicking his feet before realizing what Seungcheol just said. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re kind of a loser, we’ve been over this.” Seungcheol laughs yet again. “Call me when you get your cherry popped or whatever.”
Then he hangs up.
Grandpa Hoshi: do u think im a loser?
You: yeah kinda
You’re laughing at his text as you sit across the table from Vernon.
“That him texting?” Vernon quirks a brow, watching you smile at your phone and practically ignore him.
You laugh again at Soonyoung’s string of defensive texts before responding with a short “it’s okay, i like losers”, and putting your phone down to finish telling Vernon that he’s gonna get kicked out tomorrow for the night.
“So,” You clap your hands in front of yourself, glaring at Vernon. “You’re gonna have to be gone tomorrow at eight because I'm about to literally obliterate this guy.”
“Jesus, I’m scared for him.”
“You should be scared for me. Because, well…” You trail off for a second, scrolling up your texts to see the dick pic Soonyoung sent before the facetime call. “He’s huge and–”
“I did not need to know that.” Vernon sighs, scooting back in his chair and standing to his feet.
“You act like you’re not curious nearly every time I meet someone.” You roll your eyes at him, smiling.
Vernon stands there awkwardly before shrugging and lunging for your phone.
“How big?” He laughs, not actually trying to see the dude’s dick but always way too curious for his own good despite never wanting to be around to hear what the big dicks do to his best friend.
“Stop prying, you’ll get jealous.”
He scoffs, brushing off his pants of invisible dust and crossing his arms.
“I’ll have you know, my dick is perfectly sized.”
“I’m sure it is. Anyway, tomorrow, be gone.”
He nods, sauntering to the living room and flopping down on the couch.
“Keep it in your room, please. I don’t want to sit on his gross body fluids when I come home.”
~
It’s Thursday. It’s approximately seven in the evening on Thursday and you’re well aware that Soonyoung is probably bubbling with anxiety if his texts are anything to go by.
So many are you sures, so many you can tell me to leave if you decide you don’t want tos, and even more i can’t wait to see yous.
“Vernon, aren’t you supposed to be leaving?” You ask, opening the fridge to pull out a bottled water.
You’ve already showered again today, primped yourself up for him really. Everything smooth, soft, and ready to be touched. You wonder if Soonyoung is doing the same, and smile.
“Hm, yeah. But I kinda wanna see him before I leave.”
You turn your head to him with a curious look, glaring only slightly.
“I swear to god if you scare him off, I’m kicking you out.”
Vernon laughs, patting the couch as if to invite you to sit with him to ease your own anxiety. He can smell the familiar lotion you use before dates, and he notes that you’ve really tried to look good today.
“I think you might kill him, if I’m being honest.” Your best friend laughs softly, complimenting you.
“Thanks, that’s the plan.”
And so, the two of you sit together laughing at stupid comedy shows until your phone lights up at around eight fifteen.
Grandpa Hoshi: i’m a little early, is that ok?
“Oh shit, he’s here.” You immediately feel nervous, which is pretty normal for you anyway so it’s easily overlooked by Vernon.
He jumps up, brushing off his clothes and walking toward the kitchen to grab his keys and wallet.
“Let him in then, I’ll leave when he gets here.”
You give him a knowing look before nodding.
You: second floor, take a left when you get to the top of the stairs, third apartment on the left.
Within minutes, there’s a very gentle knock on the door and Vernon is throwing himself at it to get a look at him. Unfortunately it’s a bit more awkward than he expected it to be.
Not only did Soonyoung think your roommate was a woman, but he, at the very least, expected you to answer the door. He was preparing himself all day for this moment, to knock on your door and have you open it. At first he thought that maybe he even got the wrong apartment.
“Oh, I think I got the wrong place, sorry–”
“Nope, you’re in the right place.” Vernon smiles, stepping to the side and opening the door wider for him. “You can come in.”
Soonyoung does, awkwardly. Avoiding eye contact with Vernon and barely even looking into the apartment before stepping inside.
“She’s excited, don’t worry.” Vernon whispers, throwing Soonyoung a wink before stepping out and closing the door behind him.
Soonyoung still hasn’t really looked up from the floor yet, and you make quick work to make him feel more comfortable.
“Don’t mind him, that’s both my best friend and roommate.” You say, making your way toward him and trying your best not to stare because, okay, wow. He’s kind of ten times more attractive in person, which is fucking insane considering how good he looked through a screen.
“Have you and him ever like…” Soonyoung immediately starts, realizing he might have made things weird.
“Vernon?! Oh, god no.” You laugh, reaching for his arm and feeling him lean into it with relief. “You’re allowed to look up by the way. You’ve been staring at that crack in my floor since you got here.”
Immediately Soonyoung moves his eyes up to you, the eye contact feeling more intense than it should, but you’re locked in too. The awkwardness dissolves almost instantly, he feels no need to question you further about anything really, especially with the way he feels his throat run dry at the very idea of this whole plan actually happening at some point.
When he made his profile on that app, it was kind of a half joke until like, people started talking to him. Given, no one ever followed through but you, he’s happy he stuck with it. Happy you came out of the works from said dating app, happy you picked him.
Really though, he picked you. Part of you wonders about why you want to take this from him. For power, for control, to be praised, to feel like you’re his entire world of desire for a brief time? All of those things, but you can admit now that he’s in front of you that it’s a bit intimidating. He’s not shy at all, just a bit awkward. He seems confident, he seems ready, and you find yourself lucky for being the one to get to do this for him, or with him. If at all, Soonyoung is the type of man you could see yourself hanging out with often, with or without having sex.
Given, upon seeing him face to face for the first time, the only thing you thought about was how attractive he is. Now though, as you look back at him along with the silence of this apartment offering nothing more than awkwardness, it’s not. Because you’re seeing him for all he is and he appears to not be able to help it. Is this what people mean when they say there’s an instant spark between two people? Despite how attractive he is, you find yourself thinking of how many times he’s made you laugh. How many times he’s embarrassed himself, and now for the first time he’s right there and all you want to do is…give him exactly what he wants, or needs. Whichever.
“Okay, listen,” You start, swallowing around a lump in your throat as you feel your body heat up at record speed by just having his eyes looking into yours. You know by this point that you’re not going to be keeping your hands to yourself at all. And for his sake, he’d probably prefer it that way. “If I move too fast, just tell me to stop.”
Soonyoung tilts his head with a dopey smile, eyes still fixed on you, scanning you, coming to terms with the fact that you’re absolutely everything he thought you would be and more.
“I don’t think that’s gonna be an issue,” He admits, feeling his length confined within his pants twitch wildly at the entire situation. “I struggled not to get hard just driving over.” He laughs, looking away from you for the first time with flushed cheeks.
You find that painfully adorable. No man would ever admit that to you. Especially after just a few minutes of meeting in person for the first time, but this is Soonyoung and in the short amount of time you’ve known him, you’re kind of expecting him to be really forward and say things that will have you frozen in thought.
“Oh yeah?” You ask, grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen. You’re pretending that his apparent inexperience isn’t getting to you, but you’re not really fooling anyone. “Let’s get you some water or something, I can see you drooling.”
Soonyoung laughs, shrugging because yeah maybe he’s drooling a little bit. You smell fucking immaculate, your hand is small in his but still manages to overpower him, your skin feels soft and slightly cold. Honestly, it’s dangerous just having you stand in front of him right now because he could absolutely blow his load just by you looking at him. Embarrassing? Always.
He follows after you, very nearly crowding up to you as the comfort sets in and the last bit of awkwardness leaves his mind. All he can think about is how you sounded over that facetime call. He’s seen what’s between your legs, and during that night all he could think about was touching you, fucking you. Now he’s here, and you’re right there. It’s hard not to crowd up, it’s hard not to cling to you, it’s hard not to be excited. Seeing your hand wrapping around that bottle of water to give to him, seeing you lean just before grabbing it– of course he’s staring. Of course he’s crowding closer, almost to the point that he’s up against your ass when you lean back up from the fridge.
You turn after grabbing him the bottle and become shocked by his close proximity when you face him. He looks down at you with a soft face, one that shows he’s not embarrassed by how he immediately attaches to you. His smile is just as clumsy as he is, you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing too. You’re glad, because it makes it entirely too easy to drop the water bottle, grab his face, and chase his lips all the way until he’s against the counter and kissing you back.
He sighs instantly into it, wincing at the way the kitchen counter hits his back, you pressing against him so harshly just to get that first taste of his lips. He’s excited that you seem as eager as him, maybe even as desperate as him.
For you, a man has never been this eager just to kiss you, nor has a man ever kissed you this good. You can imagine that he’s probably got a lot of experience in terms of kissing, not much elsewhere though. You can tell by the way he moves his hands to all of the right places, but his blatant virginity shows through all of it as he becomes a horny mess almost instantly.
His tongue is warm and wet, small whining sounds coming from his throat as you press yourself against him briefly. His hands never leave your body and he shows no shame in touching where he wants to touch. Rubbing, groping, and caressing every inch of your waist, ass, and even moving up to your face to deepen the kiss. His hips press forward almost constantly, and all you can do is brace yourself on the counter behind him to try and tame his relentless hips and obvious attempts at rushing what he wants right now.
If you’re going to sleep with him though, he’s gonna get the full experience, not a quickie. Plus, you agreed to keep it in your room for Vernon’s sake.
“Hey,” you sigh, trying to pull back from the kiss but he isn’t having it. Still kissing against you and running his lips down to your neck when you continue to speak. “We should go to my room, your first time isn’t about to be in my kitchen.”
“Why not?” He groans against your neck, kissing harshly with faint wet sounds, his hands wrapping tightly around your waist now. “I don’t care where we do it, i just want you like, really bad.”
Still, his lips don’t leave you, nor do his hands. You find yourself giggling against him with a shake of your head at the way he protests when you pry yourself from his grip. Of course, though, he’s immediately clinging to you and chasing after you to your bedroom before practically throwing himself at you again.
You barely get the door closed before he’s pressing you against it this time, hand running down again to your waist and easily snaking up your shirt just to feel the warmth of your skin. You let him, enjoying the way he kisses you for just the second time, enjoying more the way you can feel him lose his composure every few minutes from this alone.
You’re kind of in love with the fact that he doesn’t seem to want to pull back even for a breath. He seems to love kissing, and you wonder what else he’ll come to love doing tonight too. From the way he moves his tongue and his lips on you, you can imagine he’d be fucking heavenly at eating pussy.
Successfully you push him away again, rushing to your bed before he can make you melt against his lips for a third time, and you’re instantly trying to present yourself to him much like you did over camera.
“You’re really going to let me?” He asks with a deep breath, brushing his hair out of his face and wiping his mouth. His brain malfunctions at your presumed answer to that question, watching you take your panties and shorts off in one go and leaning back to spread your legs for him.
At this moment, you’re all his and you make it a point to spread your pussy out for him like he asked you to do before. You can practically see his knees buckle that very instant.
“To think I wouldn’t want to do this is insane,” You say, wiggling your hips for him to see. “Look how wet I am.” You pause, studying the hungry look in his eyes. “Do you wanna try eating me out?”
He doesn’t even nod. He’s immediately on his knees against your bed and grabbing your thighs to pull you toward his face. You yelp only slightly at the movement, a chuckle coming out shortly after as you sit yourself up properly to take in the image of his eyes sparkling up at you.
Your breath is caught in your throat, a small groan coming out at the image alone before you’re able to process words again.
“Can’t believe how good you look down there,” You say softly, brushing his hair out of his face for him like he did to himself earlier. “Have you ever done this before?”
He shakes his head, eyes shifting from your pussy to your face. Regardless of your shock at that, he seems like he’s waiting for a green light so you decide to cut the compliments short and raise your brows at him.
“Go on then.”
You watch him and the way he doesn’t seem to think at all when he does it. Once again, he’s adorable. His tongue goes everywhere, only grazing your clit briefly every few licks, never staying on it presumably because he’s in the process of finding the clit based on how your body reacts.
He has a general idea of where it is, but the feeling of having your pussy on his lips alone is enough to overwhelm him with arousal. All he can do is taste and smell the mixture of your warmth along with the soap and lotion you must have used before he came here.
He’s quite literally tasting the entirety of you and loving every second of it. The way his hands grip your legs, both spreading them further open so that he can tilt his head and lick at different angles, and then hugging them to where they almost lock his head in place.
It feels like he does this for ages, learning your body and what makes your legs shake. He sucks in different places, kissing your entire pussy to the point that it’s almost impossible for your legs not to shake in reaction at what he’s doing to you.
Dare you say, a man who is inexperienced at eating a woman out somehow feels better than one who knows exactly where to go.
“Fuck, knew you’d be good at this,” you compliment with a shaky voice, reaching down to his hair and holding his head in place. “Stay on my clit, use your fingers on me.”
He hums, taking note of where you place his lips and reminding himself that this is the clit, just as suspected. He attaches his lips there, kissing it much like he kissed you in the kitchen.
You can feel his fingers make their way into you, each bump of his knuckle sending a delicious sensation throughout your body. You’re tingling from your head to your toes at this point and your face heats up beyond what you thought it would. Your hips move on their own, experimentally fucking against his fingers as he keeps his tongue flicking at you.
“Just like that,” you encourage him, running your hands through his hair and looking down at him. Seeing his head move with each little thrust of your hips is only more arousing in this moment. His eyes half open, watching you, tasting you, almost smiling around your clit when he makes eye contact with you.
It almost seems like he’s asking if he’s doing well, and goddamn is he. He’s doing amazing.
“So good,” you say shortly, scratching against his scalp as a thank you, still fucking your hips up just to feel his fingers plunge deeper.
He, on the other hand, is fucking feral right now. Tasting you, dipping his fingers into you, feeling that warmth for the first time, the small clenches— he’s swimming in a fantasy. Every time you move your hips up, he can smell the entirety of you, he can feel your pussy squeeze his fingers, and god. He doesn’t think he ever wants this to end.
All day, he could do this all fucking day. No wonder men make fun of other guys for not giving head. Why wouldn’t they? He can feel your legs tensing up around his head, your gentle fingers running through his hair, the sounds coming from your lips. He’s in love, he’s in love.
He doesn’t stop, tongue flicking your clit so beautifully, fingers slowly fucking in and out of you, not even in time with your jerking hips. Shockingly, you approach euphoria so fucking fast that you can barely warn him, you’re not even thinking when you put pressure on his head, pressing his lips so harshly against your clit— his moan sending a vibration straight through you.
“Faster, with your fingers—“ you choke out, curling your toes and feeling him do exactly as you say.
There, you release with his fingers plunging in and out of you, the wet sound of your pussy only sounding more messy by the time you begin to release. In the midst of it all, you feel him pull his lips from your clit and lick around his fingers before coming back up and continuing his ministrations, working you through an orgasm you’re not even sure he knows you’re having right now.
Strings of curses, little tugs against his hair, legs shaking, all of it happens at once until the feeling of his fingers become sensitive inside of you, until his tongue is flicking a bundle of nerves begging to be left alone.
You swat him away with a smile, leaning up quickly and grabbing him by the shirt.
He doesn’t really know what the fuck is going on but he laughs with you, being pulled to his feet and falling onto the bed on top of you. You can feel his length in his pants, so fucking hard, probably leaking and feeling quite neglected.
“Did you…?” He asks softly.
You smile at him, leaning up to kiss him square on the mouth before you flip him over and get between his legs.
“I did,” You laugh in a daze, starting to work on his button and zipper. You’re reeling from the recent orgasm and wanting nothing more than to let him feel the same way you do right now. “And now, you’re gonna finally get a full blow job.”
He chokes out a nervous laugh, holding your hand in place from pulling his pants down.
“Unless, you don’t want that?” You ask, tilting your head with a bit of a frown.
“No, no! It’s not that!” He reassures you, cheeks flushing more than they already were. “It’s just that like, what if I don’t last very long? I’m kind of sensitive.”
His eyes avoid yours when he says it and once again, most adorable man award goes to fucking Soonyoung.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing?” You lean forward, kissing him again. “You just gave me some of the best head in my life.”
The light in his eyes return and instantly he’s flashing a nervous smile at you.
“Hoshi, I’ve never gotten off that fast from being eaten out.” You reassure him again, making a point to use his nickname. “If you don’t get off from me sucking your cock, I might actually cry.”
Well, he can’t have that now, can he?
He releases your grip on his jeans, allowing you to pull them down. For some reason unable to look at you despite knowing you’ve seen him jerk off before. It’s the fact that like, what if it’s suddenly not big enough? What if his cock is ugly or curved in a way you don’t like?
Before he can even start to doubt himself more, he feels your lips on the tip and instantly his eyes are looking down at you. You’re the one smiling now, using one hand to hold his base and the other hand already scooping up his balls for added pleasure.
You make a point to look him in the eye as you let the saliva collect in your mouth. There, you let it fall from the tip of your tongue, all the way until you feel the wetness against your fingers wrapped around his base.
He thinks he’s going to go fucking insane watching you like this, and god, does he. You don’t even show him your struggle of taking in the sheer size of him. Lowering your mouth until you’re taking in as much as you can. You try to keep eye contact up until you have to close your eyes.
It’s not shocking that by the point you get half of his length into your mouth, he’s fucking up without full intention and letting out a choked apology. Still, you try to force your stretched lips to smile for him, even through the gag, through the harsh feeling of his cock hitting your throat.
How the fuck has a cock this good not been worshiped before? By a mouth? A hand? A pussy? You’ll be damned not to choke on it. You’d rather eat glass than to let him leave this apartment without being completely emptied and praised for every drop.
He’s actually struggling already not to come, holding himself back but failing each time his hips chase the warmth of your throat. Each time you gag, it stimulates the fuck out of him and he nearly wants to cry each time it happens. Even with that other girl who went down on him, she didn’t even attempt to fit this much in her mouth. Most of the pleasure came from her hand jerking him off while she suckled against his head, but you. You’re down there, slipping your mouth up and down on his length, gagging, tearing up, and still fucking smiling about it.
Once again, he’s in love.
He holds his hands back at least, keeping them against your sheets and gripping them so hard that he fears he’s ripping through them. Everything feels hot, you look hot, you sound hot, your tongue still manages to move against the base of his cock with what little room it does have, and god– your other hand, massaging his balls.
“Wait, wait wait–” Soonyoung groans, fucking his hips into your mouth once again until you pull off with a concerned look.
“Were my teeth hurting you?” You ask, gasping a bit for air.
“No, i was just getting really close.”
“Hm?” You sigh in disappointment, this time going all in at once and not letting yourself stop until he’s releasing into your mouth.
You feel his shaking fingers brush your cheek when you do it, hollowing it out just to fit more, more, more into your mouth before lapping your tongue against his base again.
His groaning turns into frantic moans, his hips jerking wildly, unable to escape the clenching muscles of your gagging throat, and he’s honestly in heaven once again.
Never in his life has he felt an orgasm so satisfying. His fingers go numb when he releases, pumping himself deep into your throat and not stopping until he’s dizzy. The fact that you kept your mouth on him through it, the fact that he could still feel you gagging, swallowing, and moaning all at once through it–how?
“How–” he takes a breath, pulling you off of him so you can breathe. “How did you do that?”
You shrug with a confident smile, wiping your tears and crawling up to meet his face.
“I don’t normally do that for guys.” You say with a rasp in your voice, “I certainly don’t just swallow for anyone.”
He feels special, and fucking spent but god does he want to keep going. His softening cock twitching in a relieving way, probably glad to have finally been touched by something other than his own hand. Part of him wonders if you’re done though, because by now you’ve both gotten off and usually that’s the end goal, right?
But he hasn’t lost his virginity yet, and when he looks at you hovering above him, he already knows you’re not done with him.
“We need to let you rest until you can get hard again,” You say, kissing him more easily than before. Letting him taste himself, letting you taste yourself mixed with him. “What’s something you wanna do to get you back into the game?”
He sighs out a laugh, fucking amazed that you’re his first. How lucky is that? He thinks hard, watching the way you lift your shirt off of yourself. God, he forgot tits existed for a solid part of this day and that’s a shame because instantly his sensitive cock throbs at the image of them coming into view.
You watch him stare, trailing your hands down and lifting his shirt off of him as well.
“I don’t even know at this point.” He admits, ignoring the fact that his hair is definitely sticking up all over from you taking his shirt off of him.
“I’ll just love on you while you think, then.”
He gives a short nod, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside at the way your gentle hands caress his chest and abs before you start kissing against it.
He relaxes his body, feeling your hands and lips on him. You were right when you said you’d love on him as he thinks about it. The hard part of it is actually thinking about what’s going to get him harder the fastest. You doing this could be enough, but your tits. And fuck, your pussy.
He lets out a whine, one that feels entirely out of character and it causes you to pause your gentle kiss against his nipple and pull back.
“Already?”
He shakes his head, staring straight at your chest and then down to what's between your legs.
“I want to, um, eat you out again…”
That’s new. Twice in one session? You’re not going to turn that down.
“Oh yeah? Did that get you going?”
You receive a small nod from him before his hands are reaching out for your tits and warming them up.
You relax into the feeling of his fingers on your chest only for a moment before you pull back again, this time adjusting yourself onto the bed face down, ass up. Might as well try a bunch of different positions for him too, right?
“Whenever you’re ready.” You sigh, already grabbing a pillow to hug through this.
You can feel the bed shift behind you, the weight of his body dipping right behind you before you feel his warm breath against your core. Only now do you realize that you already missed the way he ate you out the first time, you can barely contain yourself knowing he’s going to do it again.
His hands snake between your legs before his lips get any closer, spreading them before pulling his hand back up and spreading your pussy open with his fingers on his own this time.
“You have the prettiest pussy.” He says in a clear and calm voice, watching the way your hole pulses at the air that hits it. “And I've watched a lot of porn.”
You’d tell him to shut up, but you’re not gonna because it’s cute how forward he is with his thoughts. If anything, he’s treating you right now by doing this, so he can say whatever he fucking wants right now.
“Eat it then.” you try to urge him, and he does just that.
You do your best to contain any rising orgasm, solely because you don’t want to spend yourself before you actually let him inside of you in full. But goddamn, he’s just as eager now as he was the first time…if not more.
He thinks back to the things he did before, mimicking that and hitting all of the perfect spots without fail. Still, you hold back, pushing and pulling yourself away and toward him. He eventually holds you in place against him, licking you deeper than you’ve ever been licked before. It’s a different kind of sensation, and the way he groans into it is entirely too much for you right now.
You need more, you want more. You want all of him by now, so aroused by every touch, breath, and moan that it’s becoming unbearable to just be eaten out. The thought that he’s doing this to get himself hard is flooring, and the feeling of his fingers replacing his tongue much like before is intense.
After just that one time, he knows exactly how to make you come this way and it’s dangerously attractive to realize that. He goes straight for it too, pulling back to watch his fingers slip into you up to the knuckle.
Given, he can’t reach your clit with his mouth this time so he thinks hard about how to fix this little dilemma and you’re floored even more by the fact that he solves problems without questioning. You feel his fingers leave you and land on your clit, and right then you feel his tongue again, just as deep, licking into you and all over you.
He’s really going to not let you hold it in, he’s going to have you fucking unravelling again and it’s too good. Thankfully, when you try to lift to look behind yourself, you take note of his other hand working himself.
He’s hard again, and god knows how long he’s been doing that.
You pull your body away from him, his protesting moan doing nothing but heating your body up more when you flip over and watch him.
“You were really just going to get me off again and not try to fuck me yet?”
He looks down at himself and then back at you, smiling and running his hand through his hair.
“I like doing it, I wanted to see if I could make you–”
“You absolutely could have but I’m going to be honest,” You start, interrupting him and pulling yourself up to crawl over him. “I need more now, and if you’re ready, I’d like to live up to my promise.”
His eyes are much sharper than they were before when you say those words. This is actually it. He would have been perfectly happy just eating you out, getting head himself, or whatever. Over and over again. Any and all of it is better than being in his room alone, but you’re really–
“Promise?” He asks, knowing full well what it was.
“Lay back, get comfortable,” You instruct, scooting up the bed with him, keeping yourself planted on his legs despite the discomfort. “You still want me to ride you, right?”
He nods almost frantically, landing his hands on your tits without hesitation and groping them in a blatant show of how ready he’s managed to get himself for this.
Not that you want to rush, but you’re so fucking turned on by this point, the only thing you want is to be filled by him. His cock likely bigger than any you’ve taken before, and to be fair, you don’t even care if you’re the desperate one at this point. You’ve almost forgotten he’s a virgin.
“Wait,” He stops you when you slide over his cock, bare pussy coating his length in a languid grind. “Oh, fuck, wait- no, do that again.”
You smile at his frantic thoughts pouring from his lips, sliding against him again, and again, up until he’s leaning forward and attaching his lips to one of your nipples and suckling against it hard.
You groan as you grind, feeling the head of his now, fully hard, cock bumping against your previously stimulated clit. He groans with you, almost at the exact same time but continues to try and leave his mark on you. In love with finally getting your tits in his mouth, your pussy on his cock, and most of all, in love with the fact that you’re not laughing at him for any of it. You seem to melt into it much like he does and he can’t help but want to email the creator of that fucking app and personally thank them for this.
You rub yourself against him until it’s even more unbearable than before. By now, you’ve completely soaked his length and he’s completely soaked your chest in saliva and tiny swollen bite marks. Not that you mind the biting, he did it and you didn’t stop him.
“Are you ready?” You finally sigh out, deliberately grinding against him slowly now, with almost your entire weight behind the grinds.
He groans out a “please” before immediately gripping your hips and stopping you. Pulling his head back so hard and so quickly– he kind of forgot to unlatch from your nipple and it sends a sharp pain throughout your body, one that only makes you want to ride him hard. Right now.
“Hold on, there’s a condom in the pocket of my jeans–”
“Okay, and?” You laugh, sliding forward again and grinding your clit against him. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean.”
He looks at you, his sharp eyes falling back into the sparkling doe eyes as his mouth falls open at the very idea that he gets to hit it fucking raw for the first time?
“Unless you’re lying, and you’re not really a virgin?”
He’s quick to silence your doubt. He’s 100% never had his cock inside of anything other than his own palm and– malfunction. He’s blank again, staring up at you and wincing at the feeling of you pleasuring yourself on top of him.
“Please?” He manages to get out, gripping your hips so tightly by now that he’s sure it’s hurting you.
You smile, humming at him when you lift from his length, standing on your knees to grab at his and position him in the right place.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” You ask, only now realizing that you’re genuinely about to take a man’s virginity, and it’s only fair that you give him one last time to decide if he wants you to take it from him. Despite how turned on you are, and regardless of how badly you want to fuck him, it’s not right to just do it without making him really think about it.
“Fuck, yes. Just do it already.”
You can’t help but smile at him when you do. Lowering yourself slowly on him and feeling the stretch of it. His face is something that you don’t think you’ll ever forget. He appears to be lost in it, eyes rolling back, his chest heaving, his teeth showing through a half-smile as he moans out at the sensation.
He can’t get over how warm it is inside of you, the constant clenching of your pussy dragging along his entire length. He can’t help it when he moans, he doesn’t care that his voice cracks, or that it sounds like a pathetic sob.
By the time you bottom out and sit like that for a moment, you almost feel like he’s the one who needs to adjust. Of course, you’re needing this moment to adjust too but god– just watching him made you that much more wet and it’s insane how into him you are right now. As if you haven’t been since you started talking to him.
“Feels good?” You ask, involuntary clenching around his size, letting out a small sigh yourself at the feeling of his leaking cock inside of you.
He hums at you and then takes in a deep breath before fully opening his eyes again and looking at you. Technically, he’s no longer a virgin now. It’s fucking happening, and you’re hot? So hot? You feel so good? You smell so good. You sound so fucking good.
Everything is overwhelmingly good, all he can do now is press his hips up and instantly moan out at the feeling.
You take that as an invitation to absolutely obliterate him, much like you knew you would. So, you do. Lifting yourself up and sliding him almost entirely out of you before sinking down again.
His hands shoot to your waist, then he lifts slightly to grab your ass from behind you, and then he flops himself back– seemingly unable to know what the fuck to do with himself at this feeling.
You opt to grab his hands, intertwining your fingers with his and holding them above his head, all so you can lay chest to chest with him, lips right at his neck. You start kissing, riding him so smoothly and doing nothing but listening to his little sounds that he tries to keep inside.
“You’re really cute, you know that?” You whisper against his ear, kissing there too before pulling back to look at his face.
That half-smile never leaves his face, and his fingers squeeze against yours so tightly that you actually start to worry that he may break them. Thankfully, he begins to relax after a few minutes. Adjusting to the overwhelming pleasure and now losing himself to the arousal rather than fighting it.
You nearly squeak when you feel him release your hands and grab your face, pulling you up to him as he kisses you mindlessly. Breathlessly, moaning into your mouth all while moving his own hips now. You can feel him jerk his hips, imagining how he fucked his hand through facetime. This is better than that.
You prop to stand up on your knees, offering him the space to fuck you as hard as he’d like, and god. It’s hard. It’s deep, and it’s so clumsy. No rhythm, no thought behind it at all, you can fucking tell he’s purely running on adrenaline as he plunges into you.
He’s actually going so hard, that your moans sound more pained than pleasurable, but that’s not the case at all. You actually can’t stop moaning, it’s just the fact that each time he slams into you, your throat lets out a broken sound.
For a moment, you think you can actually hear him purr, or maybe growl against your slack lips as he does it. Already he’s lasted longer than you thought he would, especially without a condom, and you’re so fucking impressed by it.
You slide your hand between your bodies, easily rubbing your own clit and drying out your throat even more with the consistent loud moans of how good he’s doing. After a few moments though, his hips stutter and you take that as a sign that you should take over again.
“I don’t know how the fuck you’re doing this to me,” You laugh out of pity for yourself, “I really thought I could last longer than this.”
He barely hears you through his ringing ears and rapid heartbeat, but he chuckles at the compliment. Feeling like he must be doing something right to have a woman say that to him. There’s one issue. He’s about two thrusts from coming again and he will be damned to ruin this for you.
You take over, riding him harshly and rubbing your clit even harder. He takes a moment to try and distract himself from how good your pussy feels clenching him and takes it upon himself to bite down hard against his tongue. Something to hurt enough to keep his orgasm from bubbling over, but also not something so awful that he’d lose his arousal entirely.
You continue, pushing yourself back up from him and watching the way he tries to focus on anything but what’s happening. You ride deliberately to get him off though, knowing that the second he does, you’ll let yourself go too. He doesn’t seem to be picking up the hints.
“Are you close?” You ask, out of breath and riding him so consistently that it’s becoming more and more difficult to hold your own orgasm. “Let it go, come with me–”
Instantly, you hear him whimper out a moan as he releases the bite on his tongue. Shooting himself forward and hugging you so tightly that the pressure of your fingers against your clit is entirely unbearable.
“Oh, shit. Wait– i’m–” You start, moaning against his hair as he hugs against you.
He’s so fucking relieved, already releasing into you as you say those words. All he can do is breathe through it, feeling your pussy come around him as he continues to empty himself into you.
It’s entirely too intense, his ears popping and heart threatening to send him to a hospital. Never did he think having sex was this intense.
Little does he know… it’s not. But even you, for some reason, find yourself wondering why the fuck that was so good.
By the time you pull yourself off of him, both of you wincing and trying to ignore the mixture of cum running down your legs, all you can do is look at him with curiosity.
He can barely open his eyes to look back at you, but he tries, he really does.
~
He’s not going home tonight. Of course he’s not. Like, how fucking rude would it be to take his virginity and send him on his way? Absolutely the fuck not.
In fact, you made him some food, wobbling on spent legs throughout the kitchen as he lays on his death bed in your room. (Not literally, both of you are just dramatic.)
All he can do is listen to the sounds of you in the other room and think hard about how he just felt. Physically, it was a lot. Surely if sex is like that all the time, he’d rather not do it as often as Seungcheol does. Honestly, his sanity would be at stake.
But like, you’re kind of amazing. Given, the two of you barely know each other past lame texts and bullying each other. Physically, you know him more than any other women and that’s a block he didn’t think would be an issue until it became one.
You made him come twice. And he thinks you did too, unless you’re lying just to make him feel better. There’s no way you didn’t feel the intensity of that though. There’s no way your wobbling legs were lying to him when you got up and told him you wanted to have a snack before bed.
There’s no way you would let him sleep over if you didn’t feel the same way he does right now.
And by the time you’re back, handing him a plate of food, he can’t help but believe that nothing will ever taste as good as you.
The thing is, that’s one of the main reasons you did this. To be praised, to have a man think you’d be the best he will ever have until he eventually meets someone else and they do better than you did. Now though, you feel weird.
This is a one night stand. A charity-fuck, as it still stands at least.
“So,” You start, taking a bite of your food still as naked as can be regardless of how stupid it must look to be eating in a come-soaked bed like this. “I guess you should change your bio in the app now.”
He looks at you, and then at his food.
“Yeah, I guess I should…”
“I’ll help you fix your age on it. Now that you know what you’re doing with a woman and all.”
It’s silent for a minute.
“Is it too forward if I say that I’d rather just delete the app and keep calling you?”
Thank fuck Soonyoung is forward and embarrassing with it. You’re not ready to give up the single life but on the other hand, after that, you’re not exactly ready to share him with other women just yet. If he wants to attach himself for a while, you’re going to let him. Purely because, like, look at him. Everything is endearing, and when he’s not being adorable he’s just being fucking hot.
You nod with a smile, wondering if he expects you to delete the app too. Because you’re not so sure about that, but also you think you probably would if he asks with those stupid doe eyes.
Strangely enough, he doesn’t even ask. He just starts eating the food with a content look on his face. Sweat having dried up but left his hair a mess, his skin is glowing– you think…oh no. Why are you looking at him like this?
“Hey, I should probably call Vernon and tell him not to come home until late tomorrow or something.”
Soonyoung nods, lifting his eyes to you and watching you take your phone out.
“I should call my friend too, he told me to let him know when I get my cherry popped.”
You snort at him with a laugh right as Vernon answers the phone, and honestly, you’d rather listen to Soonyoung’s friend than Vernon whining about having to spend even more time with his overbearing parents.
“Hey Vernon, don’t come home 'til I call you tomorrow, bye.” You say quickly before hanging up.
Instantly you’re setting your plate on your table and launching yourself at Soonyoung and his phone.
“Put him on speaker.”
The thing about love;

Hoshi (k.s.y) x reader; university!au (ft. Jeonghan x OC)
genre: fluff, angst, humour, one sided pining
warnings: slow burn, swearing, corny jokes, slapping (apologies are given), yelling, alcohol, shitty friends, kind of a mean girl thing (not reader), broken friendships, heavy emotions (at certain points), reader in denial (lmk if there’s anything else)
25.3k words (I will better myself)
masterlist
excerpt: The slap you sent across Kwon Soonyoung’s face sent a reverberating sound across the dance studio.
He looks up, eyes bloodshot and swimming with fury. There’s a hint of a smile on his face for some reason, which you realize may be out of disbelief.
You don’t register anything else other than the rage that accelerates down your own veins. There’s a part of you that wants to do it again when he utters his next words.
“That was a bad fucking idea”
(A/N): FINALLY it's here. Tysm for clicking on this I love y'all tons for the support on all my other work, I hope this one makes the mark too! This reflects more of my personal situations more than you’d think, broken friendships that you’d never imagine to lose hurt like a bitch and I’m so sorry if you’ve gone through this too. Hopefully, Hoshi can give you some solace <3
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driving lessons for dummies

❝ i can't parallel park, but i know all the lyrics to 'driver's license' by olivia rodrigo now. ❞
PAIRING ▸ kwon soonyoung x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ fluff, humor, smut, strangers to lovers au, college au
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, weed consumption, mc has the worst luck imaginable, soonyoung is down horrendous, there is a minor car crash, very minor description of blood, hurt/comfort, almost car sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), grinding, oral (fem. receiving), praise, lots of teasing, overstimulation, pet names (both sexy and unsexy), friend group shenanigans
SUMMARY ▸ you've finally passed your written test and gotten your permit after six failed attempts. eager to get your license while attempting to avoid overpriced driving lessons, you enlist the help of kwon soonyoung, who only requires a STIIZY pod as payment.
PLAYLIST ▸ new romantics by taylor swift • see you again by tyler, the creator, kali uchis
WORD COUNT ▸ 16,834 words
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this is representation for all the girlies out there who can't drive. not me but

ONE OF THE MOST COMMON STEREOTYPES PERPETUATED AGAINST WOMEN WAS THAT THEY WERE DEEMED TERRIBLE DRIVERS.
That, or they just flat-out couldn’t drive to save their lives.
This sexist notion dated back to when the automobile was created, when driving was physically demanding work and men insisted they handled operating the vehicles themselves. Now, though, plenty of women drove just fine, but misogyny was the only thing keeping the stereotype relevant.
After all, the only reason why women were considered “bad drivers” was because a man decided they were.
Screw all the women who revolutionized the automobile industry, right? Despite them being highly discouraged to take on the labor required of men, it was Bertha Benz who drove the furthest in a motorized carriage than anyone else. It was Anne French who was the first woman to receive a driver’s license. It was Marget Wilcox who invented the car heater, Mary Anderson who created windshield wipers, and Hedy Lamar who designed the wireless transmission technology that made the innovation of the GPS possible.
No matter how high that glass ceiling was, even if a woman demolished and obliterated it to pieces, there would always be a man out there who would push her right back down.
Unfortunately, you were nowhere near smashing that glass ceiling because you had failed your permit test six times.
Yes, it was embarrassing, but you were determined to get your license. At your age, it was getting ridiculous that you had consistently failed your permit test this many times. Plus, you were getting tired of asking all of your friends for rides. You envisioned picking them up in your new car with your shiny new license, grinning smugly at the shocked looks on their faces.
“I don’t think God wants you on the road,” Wen Junhui, your best friend since middle school, said as he dropped you off at the DMV. “If you fail a seventh time, I would personally just use public transportation for the rest of my life.”
“If a sixteen-year-old can pass it without studying, then I can pass it,” you insisted. “Plus, I read the entire manual last night.”
“Yeah, except the sixteen-year-old passed it on their first or second try, and this is your seventh.”
“Well, seventh time’s the charm, right?”
“Right,” he replied, doubtful. He stopped the car in front of the DMV to let you out. “Well, good luck. I’m gonna go get gas and I’ll come back for you.”
“Thanks, Jun!” you chirped. “I swear I’ll pass it this time.”
“Sure.”
“Have some faith in me, please.”
When Junhui drove away, you steeled your nerves to mentally prepare yourself—not for the test but for interacting with the DMV employees. You weren’t a fan of being verbally abused by them, especially after having them roll their eyes at you the last six times you had to tell them you failed.
But today would be different.
Thankfully, the DMV wasn’t too busy today. You only had to wait twenty minutes until they called your number. After handing them the proper paperwork, you were directed to the computers to take the permit test.
Since you were an adult, you only needed to get 30 questions correct out of 36. You had learned your lesson by now, so you actually studied the handbook this time. It took a while to admit to yourself that you weren’t blessed with common sense.
First question. Wrong.
Second question. Wrong.
Third question. Wrong.
What was happening?
By the time you had gotten five questions wrong in a row, your hands were shaking. The pressure started to set back in, and you were terrified about failing this exam a seventh time. Junhui would be so disappointed if you told him you failed again.
You felt the back of your shirt cling to your skin once the sixth question was incorrect. This was ridiculous; you had studied, but these questions were strangely specific. It was like someone at the DMV had it out for you.
Maybe Junhui was right. Maybe God didn’t want you on the road.
You felt like your brain had entered auto-pilot to protect yourself from the discouraging loss of your permit yet again. You clicked through the rest of the questions mindlessly, hardly thinking about anything until—
You passed!
The white screen flashed in your face for about a minute before you could register it properly. All you could do was blink and stare until you pinched your wrist to make sure you weren’t seeing things.
Had you really gotten the rest of the 30 questions right after your consecutive failed attempts? You were so worked up over the six you missed that the rest felt like a blur. Maybe the problem was that you had been overthinking the test this entire time.
“I did it,” you breathed out to the woman at the counter, still in disbelief. “I passed.”
“Congratulations,” she replied with little enthusiasm. She turned to grab papers from her printer, stapled them together, and handed you your brand new permit. “Have a nice day now.”
“Thank you so much,” you replied, slightly distracted as you inspected your learner’s permit with wide eyes.
You had been waiting for this day for so long, and here you were, holding the permit you had spent years trying to obtain. You could only imagine how thrilled your parents and friends would be once they found out.
Speaking of friends, when you checked your phone, you saw that Junhui had texted you five minutes ago that he was parked outside. He probably expected you to walk out with a gloomy expression and slumped shoulders, but you had a skip in your step this time. You finally had good news for your best friend.
“Jun!” you yelled before you even opened the door to the passenger’s seat. “Jun, Jun, Jun, Jun!”
“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said sympathetically, but something about his automatic response definitely felt practiced, “you’ll get it next time.”
“No, Jun, I passed!”
His eyes went wide. “You did?!”
“I did!” You squealed and practically jumped into the seat. Sinking back, a wide grin stretched across your face. “I finally did it.”
“Yo, congrats.” Junhui grinned. “I guess the seventh time really is the charm, huh?” He started his car to pull out of the parking lot. “Well, now you just have to pass the driving test.”
Your face fell.
You had been thinking about the permit test for so long that you forgot there was an actual driving component, too.
First of all, you had never driven a vehicle in your life, not even illegally with friends. Second of all, you had terrible depth perception, which was probably not a great flaw to have if you wanted to drive. Thirdly, everything you prepared for the permit test had completely ejected from your brain. Your road sense was back to utterly clueless.
“I’m gonna fail,” you said, defeated. “Jesus Christ, Jun, I didn’t even think about the actual driving test!”
“Relax, driving’s easy once you get the hang of it,” he replied. “What you should really be worrying about is how expensive those lessons are.”
“How much are they?”
“Uh, like, close to a few hundred.”
“Total?”
“No, per lesson.”
“Per lesson?!” you cried. “Just for someone to tell me where to turn and brake? I can’t afford that!”
“I’m guessing most of it is because they’re willingly sitting in a car with someone who doesn’t know shit about driving,” he explained, “but, yeah, it’s a crazy price. You do need to get that license before your permit expires, though, and you should probably get it done while you’re still here for college so you don’t run over the elementary schoolers back home.”
You buried your face in your hands and let out a loud groan. “How am I gonna dish out hundreds of dollars? I don’t have that kind of money to spend when I have rent to pay off.”
The corner of Junhui’s mouth lifted, more so exasperated than amused when he said, “I think I might know a guy.”

Kwon Soonyoung.
Junhui sent you his number after he dropped you off at your apartment. Apparently, Soonyoung was one of his good friends who also happened to have a side gig where he gave out driving lessons at a discounted price. Of course, the downside was that Soonyoung wasn’t exactly certified to teach people how to drive, but he was allegedly a good driver.
His lessons were normally for high schoolers, and he charged their parents around a hundred. For adults over the age of 21, though, he had a special offer that you couldn’t resist.
You texted him to ask if he had any open spots for you. He took a few days to reply, but you eventually got a two-hour slot for the next week. You weren’t sure how effective his lessons would be, but you figured you would give it a shot since he was your age and giving out classes for cheap.
When the day of your lessons rolled around, you were slightly anxious while you were waiting for him to arrive. You needed Junhui to reassure you for hours last night, promising that no, Soonyoung was not going to kidnap and murder you. He was a student at your university, actually, and he was a public health major who never had a murderous thought in his life.
soonyoung (driving instructor): i’m outside your house
Okay, if he wasn’t a murderer, then the least he could do was not text you like one.
After replying with an omw that autocorrected to On my way! and left you feeling very distressed that your communication sounded overly-enthusiastic, you worked up the courage to walk outside to his Honda Accord.
“Hi,” you greeted shyly when you opened the door. “You’re Soonyoung, right?”
Honestly, you didn’t care if he was Soonyoung or not. The man sitting in the driver’s seat was probably one of the most attractive people you had ever laid eyes on. Even if he wasn’t Kwon Soonyoung, you would happily let him kidnap you. Maybe you’d even blush a little because he picked you of all people to kidnap.
He turned to look at you, seeming a little surprised that you opened the door but smiling nevertheless. “Yeah, that’s me. You’re Y/N?”
When you nodded, he got out of the driver’s seat and motioned for you to take it. You skirted around the car to sit inside while Soonyoung took the passenger’s seat.
You also got a glance of his off-brand, beige Fear of God Essentials sweater that read M.I.L.F. Hunter instead. Classy.
“So, you came to me because you didn’t wanna give up your semester’s worth of college tuition for driving lessons,” Soonyoung said with an overwhelming air of confidence.
“Yeah, pretty much.” You huffed. “Here, I heard this was your payment.”
You handed him a paper bag, not bothering to take out the receipt from the dispensary. Inside was the King Louis XIII STIIZY pod. One gram.
“Ah, good. You know your stuff.”
Soonyoung hummed as he examined the box, and you were just wondering when he would get to business and start showing you the controls in his car. You were slightly overwhelmed by his impressively relaxed demeanor. Maybe it would have been better if you settled for an uptight woman in her sixties. Pretty boys were always trouble.
“You made the right choice coming to me. I’m a much better driver than those hags from the driving schools around here,” he continued. It was like he could read your mind; it was almost terrifying. “Plus, way less likely that I’ll get a heart attack in the passenger’s seat.”
He was a total weirdo, but he was hot, so you supposed it canceled out in some obscure, mathematical sense.
“That’s… good to hear, I think,” you replied. “So, are you, like, good at this?”
“Are you kidding? I’m basically the Lebron of driving.”
“I see.” You nodded along, unsure. “I don’t watch football, so…”
“He plays basketball, but close enough.”
After spending about thirty minutes explaining all of the controls—from hand signals, to the dashboard, to the indicator—Soonyoung decided it was time for you to start driving on your own. You didn’t expect to move this quickly; actually, you didn’t think you’d even start driving until your second lesson. Thankfully, you gathered most of what Soonyoung had taught you, so you mustered up the courage to press your foot on the brakes and move the gear shift into drive.
You looked over at Soonyoung expectantly, waiting for him to give you the green light to start driving. The boy only raised a brow at you, wondering why you hadn’t started driving yet.
“Today would be nice,” he remarked.
“Uh, should I start now?”
“Sorry, I don’t have a starting pistol for you or anything.” He made a finger gun with his hand and pretended to fire. “On your mark, get set—”
“Okay, going,” you replied quickly, flushing with embarrassment. You pressed down on the accelerator and gasped as the car lurched forward. “Sorry!”
“Slowly!” Soonyoung cried out, holding onto the ‘oh shit’ handle, which you found highly unnecessary and felt somewhat offended about. “Press down slowly—gentle.”
The next hour of your lessons was a learning curve, to say the least. In your defense, it was your very first time driving, so you didn’t know you were actually supposed to look behind you before you switched lanes. Although Soonyoung kept reminding you, his instructions kept slipping your mind because you were focusing on several things at once.
You sucked.
You were probably honked at around eight times and flipped off twice. It was a humbling experience, really. There was only so much a DMV victim could take, so you eventually had to pull over and try not to cry while Soonyoung consoled you.
“C’mon, you probably didn’t even do anything wrong. It’s just their road rage,” he said, trying to duck his head to get a better look at you while you had your hands covering your face. “Plus, all those assholes were driving way over the speed limit. You were the responsible one back there.”
You sniffled, sucking in a shuddering breath before you gathered your composure. It wasn’t like you to be so vulnerable in front of a stranger like this, but it was probably the nerves of your first time driving coupled with the nerves of driving (and potentially damaging) someone else’s car.
“You’re right.” You wiped at your damp cheek. “Fuck them. They couldn’t pass a driving test if they tried.”
“Well, technically, they already have.”
“Not helping.”
He smirked. “Are you good to keep driving? Or do you wanna wrap this session up for today?”
“Let’s keep going.” You set the car in drive again, but you looked over at Soonyoung before you did anything else. “Thanks, by the way. I’m guessing most of your students don’t usually pull over to cry during their lesson.”
He shrugged. “Wouldn’t say it’s happened before, but it’s not a bad thing.”
It was a good thing that you were able to hide your blush from Soonyoung. With the clearly embarrassing impression you were making on him, it would have been mortifying if he found out that he was also making you flustered.
For the next thirty minutes, you slowly started to get more comfortable behind the wheel. Soonyoung was thankfully not overbearing as most instructors normally were, so you didn’t end up flinching every time he spoke.
He made light conversation to make you feel at ease, which you appreciated greatly. At first, you just nodded or hummed in response, as you were too afraid to do anything but stare at the road ahead, but you eventually steeled your nerves and replied with actual words. Soonyoung was a natural conversationalist, so you didn’t have to worry about your awkward pauses or stumbling over your words. He led the conversation, sharing random tidbits of his life that you wouldn’t expect to hear from someone the first time you met them.
Everything seemed to be going perfectly normal until Soonyoung started queuing songs to play.
The problem wasn’t the music. The problem was that Soonyoung had stopped teaching you to drive, allowing you to fend for your life while he sat back and relaxed. You weren’t sure if normal people were able to loosen up so easily while being driven by a complete amateur.
Soonyoung must’ve been from a different planet, you decided. Some planet out there that deemed him the Lebron of driving.
“Uh,” you started, “aren’t you gonna tell me where to go?”
Soonyoung opened his mouth, as if he was going to ask what you meant, but then his demeanor completely shifted.
“Pull over to the curb,” he instructed, “now.”
“What?” Your pulse raced, and you were scared that you had fucked up somehow. You checked your mirrors to make sure you hadn’t cut anyone off or anything, but there was no one behind you. Swallowing thickly, you pulled over to the curb as best as you could and parked the car, shooting your driving instructor a nervous glance. “Did I do something wr—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Soonyoung whispered, silencing you with a wave of his hand. “This is the best part.”
Your jaw clenched as Olivia Rodrigo’s vocals were drowned out by Soonyoung’s off-key singing. This was why he wanted you to pull over?
“I knew we weren’t perfect but I’ve never felt this way for no one!” he belted out. “C’mon, sing with me—oh, and I just can’t imagine how you could be so okay now that I’m gone!”
You folded your arms across your chest. With a reluctant sigh, you gave in and started singing along with Soonyoung.

You weren’t exactly ready for your driving test, but after two more lessons with Soonyoung, you felt more confident about being on the road. Sure, you almost ran over a pedestrian once and drove on the wrong side of the road the other day, but at least you were capable of handling a vehicle mostly by yourself.
There were times where you wondered if your driving lessons would be more productive with a proper instructor, not Soonyoung. He surely knew how to drive (save for when he went over the speed limit and only slowed down when he saw a cop car), but he was more focused on messing around instead of actually teaching you. You were pretty sure that he saved his proper instruction for high school students with parents, and you were just someone he liked to mess around with.
That didn’t stop you from scheduling another lesson with him, though. It was going to be another trip to the dispensary for you.
“How’re the driving lessons going?” Junhui asked, still nose-deep in his anatomy textbook.
The two of you were preparing for your upcoming midterms in a study room, but all you could think about was the little notification on your phone screen telling you that Soonyoung requested to follow you on Instagram. How long were you supposed to wait until you accepted his request? Would it be weird if you followed him back right away?
“I can’t parallel park, but I know all the lyrics to ‘Driver’s License’ by Olivia Rodrigo now,” you answered. “I’ve also been honked at thirteen times.”
You counted. Mostly because each honk kept you up at night, staring up at your popcorn ceiling, wondering why everyone (a driver who probably didn’t even remember your face) hated you.
“Ah,” Junhui mused, smiling a little to himself, “so it’s going well.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” you mumbled. “But he’s nice. He doesn’t make me feel like crying. I think my dad would make me cry.”
Your phone buzzed while Junhui started going off on a tangent about how your dad was, indeed, a scary man. (There was an incident during parent’s weekend in freshman year where your father walked into your dorm room to see Junhui sitting on your bed. Completely misunderstanding the situation, your poor friend got lectured for almost an hour.) Soonyoung’s contact name flashed across your screen, and you were itching to read his text.
Once you and Junhui settled back into studying, you turned on your phone to check your messages.
soonyoung (driving instructor): i see you in the first floor study room soonyoung (driving instructor): come to the second floor study room for a good time
Terrifying. But you were intrigued.
After excusing yourself for a moment, making some lame excuse about needing to use the bathroom, you slipped out of your study room to head upstairs. You realized you had never actually seen Soonyoung on campus before, so a strange feeling of excitement consumed you, making your body feel light and your chest feel giddy.
Outside one of the study rooms, you heard echoes of laughter and conversation, which made you feel instantly nervous. You were invited, though, so you steeled your nerves and opened the door cautiously.
“Hi,” you greeted quietly, glancing over at the three strangers before your eyes landed on Soonyoung, who grinned once he saw you.
The four of them weren’t exactly studying. Two of them were fiddling with the flatscreen fixed to the wall, trying to connect a Nintendo Switch to it; one of them was sliding joy-cons into controllers; and Soonyoung, who had his legs kicked up on the table previously, was standing up to walk over to you.
“You came!” His tone made it seem like he was doubtful that you’d actually show up, so you were glad to prove him wrong. “Oh, yeah, this is Seungcheol and Mingyu”—he gestured toward the two who were setting up the TV, and then he pointed at the guy with the joy-cons—“and this is Seungkwan.”
“Hey,” the three of them chorused in broken unison.
“Wanna play Smash Bros with us?” Soonyoung asked. “Perchance.”
“You can’t just say ‘perchance,’ dude,” one of the guys setting up the TV said.
“I think it’s applicable, Mingyu,” the other guy said, whom you now deduced was Seungcheol. “Conceivably.”
“There’s no reason for either of you to use the words ‘perchance’ or ‘conceivably’ at all,” Seungkwan chimed in.
“Ignore them,” Soonyoung said, holding the door open wider for you before you even gave him an answer. “They’re just idiots.”
“You’re the biggest idiot here!” Seungcheol protested. He turned to you and explained, “He’s, like, the final boss idiot.”
Mingyu snickered. “Final idiot.”
You found yourself giggling a little, distracted by their banter as you walked inside the room and sat down in one of the empty chairs. Soonyoung slid into the one next to you, even though he was sitting next to Seungkwan earlier. You were glad that none of his friends made you feel like your presence was strange or unwelcome, but you still couldn’t help but feel awkward.
While Soonyoung was asking Seungcheol if he had finished connecting his Switch to the TV, you pulled out your phone to text Junhui.
y/n: i’m playing smash bros??? with soonyoung on the second floor y/n: wanna join?
jun: my anatomy midterm is in 3 days, 2 hours, and 26 minutes and all i know rn is that tissues are to wipe my tears after i fail this exam, negative feedback is all im getting back from my professor, and brain cells r what im deficient in
y/n: ok damn i’ll take that as a no
jun: i’ll be in here for the next 3 days whenever u decide to come back
y/n: it’ll take an hour tops y/n: pls don’t camp here for 3 whole days
“Jun’s not coming,” you announced.
You heard a chorus of groans.
Great. They were all Wen Junhui fanboys.
After Mingyu and Seungcheol finished setting up the Nintendo Switch, you watched Soonyoung and Seungkwan play the first match. Seungkwan chose Villager (which was sort of fitting for him, actually) and Soonyoung chose Donkey Kong. You honestly had no idea how Smash Bros worked, so you were completely lost while you watched their characters fly around and knock each other off the platform.
Soonyoung was screaming at one point, threatening Seungkwan with several promises to knock him out, which never happened. Seungkwan, taking a calmer approach, focused on using several commands while Soonyoung was already jumping out of his chair and on the floor. Mingyu and Seungcheol were on the sidelines, yelling out strategies for them at random and laughing occasionally.
The match ended with Seungkwan being victorious. Soonyoung had gotten so riled up during the game, but he took his defeat like a champ, congratulating his friend and laughing off his loss.
You were just amused at how quickly he switched up.
“You want a turn?” Soonyoung asked you, handing you his controller.
You hesitated. “Uh, I’m not really good at these kinds of games.”
“I’ll help you.”
You were up against Mingyu. He was a formidable opponent at first glance, but you hoped he wasn’t as competitive as the others. Maybe he would show you mercy because it was your first time playing.
You held the controller with stiffly-bent arms, holding it up like you were reading a map. Soonyoung didn’t laugh at you, to your relief, but he gently pushed your hands down and showed you what all of the controls were.
You chose the pink blob named Kirby. You weren’t a gamer by any means, so you had no idea what purpose the pink blob served other than being cute. No one judged you for your selection, though, which you assumed was a good sign.
“Don’t go easy on me,” you mumbled to Mingyu, who grinned in response.
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
Your heart raced when the countdown started. It felt like the longest three seconds of your life, and you were starting to regret choosing Kirby, who looked harmless in comparison to Mingyu’s character: Samus. You kept telling yourself that it was okay if you lost; you knew how to handle failure since you were pretty bad at virtually everything.
Soonyoung was cheering for your victory as soon as the match started. He was an absolute angel for doing so, but you were afraid you were going to disappoint him.
In Mingyu’s defense, you did tell him not to go easy on you. Unfortunately, the guy really wasn’t holding back at all. In the blink of an eye, you were already astral projecting off the screen.
“Oh,” was all you could say.
Maybe you should have swallowed down your pride and asked Mingyu to go easy on you.
Seungcheol playfully punched his friend’s shoulder. “C’mon, dude, it’s her first time.”
“Yeah, why’re you being a dick?” Seungkwan joined in, seeming more excited over having an excuse to target Mingyu than to actually defend you.
“She told me not to go easy on her!” he exclaimed, but no one allowed the poor boy to stand up for himself. With a pout, he turned to you and said, “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize.” You laughed. “I’m just bad at this.”
“Here, I’ll help you for the next round.” Soonyoung scooted closer to you until his knee brushed against yours. You couldn’t help but feel a little hot all of a sudden, but you made no effort to move away.
The next round started with you dropping from the revival platform. You felt like your brain went into autopilot. You just heard Soonyoung talking in your ear while his fingers kept brushing against yours, telling you which controls were best for fighting Samus. Everything was going in one ear and out the other; you were so flustered that you could hardly think straight.
You snapped back into reality when you heard three of them screaming, and you looked over with wide eyes to see Mingyu looking shell-shocked himself.
You won.
Soonyoung smiled. “See? You’re a natural.”
“No, it was all you,” you replied, shaking your head. It really was all thanks to Soonyoung because you had no idea what the hell you did. “It was probably just beginner’s luck.”
But, even so, a smile tugged at your lips, and you felt elated from your triumph. You thought back to Soonyoung’s hands brushing against yours, nearly swamping yours in comparison, and your chest felt a little warm.
A little too warm.

You put a pause on driving for a week and a half, informing Soonyoung that you had to focus on midterms before you could think about your driving lessons. Both caused you extreme distress, so you needed to cut one out temporarily.
Junhui really did camp out in the library for three entire days. You brought him food every day and forced him to go back to his apartment to take a shower. When you watched over his study room for him, Soonyoung would swing by and ask how you were doing.
Brief interactions, but they were nice.
You managed to get through your midterms without a single cry session in a bathroom stall. It was honestly a bigger success than your first Smash Bros win.
Soonyoung and you grew a little closer. Two weeks ago, if someone told you that you would be FaceTiming your driving instructor every night before bed, you wouldn’t believe them for a second. Mostly because you assumed you would get a driving instructor who was pushing retirement age, and video calling someone that old at night sounded a little concerning and borderline adulterous.
You learned a lot about him. His go-to breakfast or midnight snack was Frosted Flakes, and he felt a little empty inside if there wasn’t a box of the cereal in his cabinet. He was loud most of the time, but he often got shy or quiet in loud settings; it was highly dependent on the crowd he was with. His love language was sending you pictures of cute animals and saying it was you two. (You also didn’t like calling this a “love language” because that implied there was something deeper than platonic feelings, which you were too afraid to come to terms with.)
“You have to start driving again now that your midterms are over,” Soonyoung said over the phone one night. He was sulking while you were doing your skincare routine, keeping your phone propped up on your desk. “You’re gonna start forgetting what you learned, and then we’re gonna be back to square one.”
He was (slightly) high tonight and you were the first person he called.
You were pretty sure that had to mean something. Unfortunately, you were too guarded to connect the pieces that were laid out perfectly for you.
“You just miss me, huh?” you joked.
“Yeah, I guess I do.”
Nothing could have prepared you for that response.
You felt your cheeks burn, and you had to physically turn around to hide whatever expression was betraying you. You pretended to examine something behind you, but there was clearly nothing there, so you just looked like an idiot.
You didn’t know what you were feeling. There was a clear difference in your emotions when you spoke to Soonyoung versus when you spoke to his friends.
You didn’t want to compare Soonyoung to Junhui, who you knew since middle school, but you knew that you didn’t feel anything funny in your chest when you interacted with Seungcheol, Seungkwan, or Mingyu. They were great to be around, of course, but it was only Soonyoung who made you walk with a little skip in your step.
You hadn’t had a proper crush in years. Now, you felt like you were overthinking everything and analyzing every little interaction that could possibly be meaningless.
It had only been a few weeks, but you supposed there was no exact timeline for these sorts of things—whatever this thing was.
Whatever it was, though, you were in danger.
“Tomorrow, then,” you said once you regained a sliver of your composure. “Pick me up after your classes.”
“Sure.” He rested his chin in his palm, staring at you with an amused expression. “I’ll bring flowers.”
Possible Ways To Respond: 1. “You’re too sweet! Thank you.” 2. “Flowers? What’s the occasion?” 3. “Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special, huh?”
You went with a secret fourth option.
“Please don’t. I’m allergic.”

True to his word, Soonyoung picked you up after his classes the next day.
You were pretty sure your lessons had gone over the regular quota, so you stopped by at the dispensary earlier to pick up another pod for Soonyoung. He didn’t look as though he was expecting anything when you got in the driver’s seat, though. In fact, he was perplexed when you handed him the paper bag.
“What’s this?” he asked, growing sheepish.
“Your payment,” you replied. “Also, I sort of lied about being allergic to flowers. I’m not allergic to flowers. I don’t know why I said that. I’m allergic to penicillin, though, but I don’t think that sounds remotely close to ‘flowers.’ Maybe I got confused? I don’t know.”
If this was an otome game, you had surely picked the bad relationship ending. Soonyoung’s face fell a little—just enough for you to notice—and you immediately felt guilt swallowing you whole. You meant for your words to sound lighthearted, but maybe they didn’t come across that way.
But, at the same time, you didn’t know where you stood. Wouldn’t it have been unfair to not repay Soonyoung for the lessons? Was it unreasonable that you weren’t actually expecting him to bring you flowers for no reason?
Soonyoung recovered quickly, though, his smiling eyes crinkling at the corners. “So I can bring you flowers.”
“Hypothetically, you could.”
“But you don’t have to pay me anymore.” He looked into the paper bag, examining the STIIZY pod before scoffing. “If I keep stocking up on these, people are gonna think I’m a stoner.”
“Well, I have to pay you for the lessons somehow,” you said. “So, if you don’t want the pods anymore, then I’ll have to start sending you money. I mean, what about gas?”
“You don’t have to worry about my gas tank.” He chuckled at your words and sat back to get comfortable. “What you should worry about is not hitting the curb.”
You flushed hotly. “Right.”
The first hour went smoothly. Soonyoung was impressed that you were gradually getting more and more comfortable behind the wheel, and he even congratulated you for changing lanes without muttering prayers under your breath. You were beginning to feel less overwhelmed with everything you were supposed to focus on, and you were certain that you were so close to everything clicking at once.
That was, until a car crashed right into you on a local road.
Thankfully, you and the other driver weren’t going too fast, but the force was sure to leave a dent in Soonyoung’s car. The collision wasn’t hard, by any means, but the impact jerked your body forward so that your mouth hit the steering wheel. The sting of pain radiated throughout your gums seconds later, and you winced and cradled your jaw.
You immediately bubbled with rage as you pulled over to the curb, knowing that you had the right of way and he was supposed to stop and wait for you to pass, but you were still stiff with shock. Soonyoung’s eyes were fierce, looking back at the driver as if he was about to cuss him out, but then he turned his attention to you.
Before you could feel immense, crushing guilt over crashing Soonyoung’s car, you whipped your head around to make sure he wasn’t hurt. You wouldn’t be surprised if he completely ghosted you after this. You were probably the worst student he had ever come across, which was saying a lot considering most of his students were high school teenagers.
“Y/N, are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked, sounding as frantic as his hands were. You felt his palm against your cheek and his other hand atop your head, making sure you weren’t hurt anywhere.
“Are you okay?” you blurted out. Your breathing was erratic, and you hardly registered the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. “Oh god. Your car. Oh god, I—”
“It’s okay, Y/N, it’s not your fault,” he said. “You had the right of—”
When he turned to look at you again, he just stared, eyes wide and jaw hanging open—almost comically. It almost looked like he was more bewildered by you than the fact that his car was rammed into by another car.
He was wordless for far too long that you had to ask, “Everything okay?”
Maybe that was a stupid question. Clearly, everything wasn’t okay, and it had everything to do with the fact that you two had gotten into a car crash.
“I think you loth a tooth,” he lisped—a seemingly joking remark, but his expression was dead serious.
For a split second, a laugh bubbled up in your mouth. You thought Soonyoung must have been messing with you, but it was ridiculous that he could joke around in such a situation. It was when you touched your lip and pulled your hand back to see blood, though, that cold reality washed over you.
Your eyes went wide as saucers as you turned to examine your teeth in the rear-view mirror.
The worst possible thing that could happen to a woman was happening to you right now.
Your front left tooth was gone.
“I-it’s not that bad,” Soonyoung tried, although he sounded unconvinced himself. “It’s cute! It’s like, uh, that dragon—from, uh… How to Train Your Dragon.”
Your eyes were burning and your throat was closing up, but tonguing the bloodied gap between your teeth sent you over the edge. You had tears streaming down your cheeks and you were gripping the wheel so hard that your knuckles turned pale.
“Toothleth?” you cried, which led to a few choked sobs when you realized that you had a lisp now. Then, you were full-on crying into your hands because sure, you could get over being the reason why Soonyoung’s car had a dent in it, but you were pretty sure there was no replacing a missing tooth. The more you cried, though, the worse you felt as you tasted the blood and heard the faint whistles coming from the gap in your teeth. “I’m tho thupid!”
Soonyoung was clearly short-circuiting, but you could tell he was desperate to calm you down by the way he was rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Y/N, you’re not stupid. It's okay, we just—”
“Thoonyoung!”
Soonyoung slapped his hand over his mouth to suppress his laughter. He was trying to take you seriously, but the little bursts of laughter that bubbled up in his throat were betraying him.
You swallowed down your sob and continued, “Ith not okay! I loth my tooth!”
“Okay, no more talking,” he ordered. “I know you’re very hurt right now, but you’re gonna feel even worse if I start laughing at your lisp, so don’t make this harder for me.”
You scowled at him, but you kept your mouth shut because Soonyoung was right; you were not in the proper headspace to be laughed at right now.
“Okay, I’m gonna go outside and talk to the driver who ran into us,” he explained slowly. “I want you to calm your breathing and find your missing tooth. We can drive to the dentist right after, okay?”
You sniffled and nodded, craning your neck to watch Soonyoung get out of the car to talk to the driver. Then, you sucked in a sharp breath and examined the floor to find your loose tooth. Lo and behold, it was laying next to the gas pedal. You cringed as you picked it up, frowning at how bloody it was in your palm. There were a few napkins in Soonyoung’s glove compartment, so you wrapped your tooth in one and kept it in your pocket.
You heard some yelling from the other driver—something about having kids in the back and how you were going way too fast—and it all just made you feel worse. You felt horrible that Soonyoung had to deal with the repercussions, and after they exchanged insurances and the guy drove off, you got out of the car to see the damage.
Surely enough, there was a decent-sized dent in the side of his car. It was right where the back door opened, and you burst into tears at the sight of it. Soonyoung wouldn’t have to deal with all of this if he wasn’t teaching you to drive.
Still, he wrapped his arms around your shaking body and pulled you in close. He rested his chin on top of your head and sighed.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “The insurance will cover the damage. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
“What about my tooth?”
“Okay, maybe there’s one thing to worry about.”
You leaned into his touch when you felt his hand carding through your hair. His motions were slow and gentle, as if he was trying hard to make sure you didn’t notice the gesture. You did, though, and you appreciated it.
You started, “I’m—”
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” he interrupted. You thought he was going to say something cheesy about how you had nothing to apologize for, but he continued, “You’re gonna say thorry, and I’m not gonna be able to take you seriously.”
With your face buried in his chest, you reached your hand out to punch his shoulder.
Still, despite his snarky comment and the emotional distress you were experiencing over your missing tooth, a big smile crossed your face and his embrace left a warm, fluttery feeling in your stomach.
Your heart was beating so fast that you almost thought it would stop.

“Ew,” was Wen Junhui’s first reaction upon seeing your swollen lip. You could only see the top half of his face over FaceTime, but you were sure he had a look of disgust on. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” you replied dryly, holding an ice pack to your cheek.
Before Soonyoung drove you to a dentist, he scolded you for leaving your tooth wrapped up in a tissue. Apparently, your tooth was going to be fucked if it dried up, so his solution was to leave it in his half-empty water bottle that was left sitting in his car. You weren’t quite sure about this, but the dentist informed you that Soonyoung saved your front tooth.
If he was with you in the room, you probably could’ve kissed him then and there—bloody mouth and all.
Thankfully, since you didn’t fracture or break any part of the tooth, the dentists were able to replant it into your gums without any complications. They told you it was a good thing you went straight to the dentist instead of waiting. Your front tooth would’ve been a lost cause if you waited another hour.
It was really all thanks to Soonyoung.
The procedure was quick and you were told that your avulsed tooth would be back to normal in about a week. The news filled you with relief because you were so sure you were going to be toothless for the rest of your life.
Not that it was a bad thing. While Soonyoung was driving you to the dentist prior to the replantation, you had come to terms with the fact that you would be missing a front tooth for the rest of your life. You would grow old and tell your children the harrowing tale of how you got your driver’s license and sacrificed your front tooth for it.
It couldn’t be all that horrible. Maybe you would grow an affinity for whistling.
Thankfully, that was all just your overthinking and your tooth was probably fine now. In seven days, everything was supposed to go back to normal, so you had your fingers crossed for a full recovery.
“Of course that would happen to you.” Junhui laughed at your misery. “Shit like this only happens to you.”
“Yeah, I get it. I’m the pinnacle of terrible luck.”
“So, what happened after? Did you make out with Soonyoung or something?”
“No!” you exclaimed. Your cheeks started to burn just at the thought. “How do you expect me to make out with someone when I look like this? Soonyoung drove me home like a gentleman. He’s not into me like that.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing him for a while, anyway. I don’t wanna start driving again until my tooth is fine.”
“Then maybe you can go on a different kind of ride with him instead.”
“You need to stop.”

You didn’t see Soonyoung much over the next week. He told you that he had a few papers to finish before his schedule would clear up, so you were only able to text him occasionally and see him in passing, exchanging a greeting before one of you had to go.
You saw his friends a lot, though. They were always in the study room next to the one you and Junhui liked to use, so you would stop by their room often to see what they were up to. They were usually either messing around or using the whiteboard for everything but its intended purpose, so you enjoyed taking study breaks with them. Junhui was the type to not take breaks because he was locked in on his work once he got in the zone, so Soonyoung’s friends were a breath of fresh air.
Your Current Opinions on Soonyoung’s Friends:
Mingyu: Kind. Approached you whenever he saw you. Pleasant conversations. Swiped up on your Snapchat stories sometimes. Was unfortunately the only person you forgot to block from your story once when you posted a semi-thirst trap just for Soonyoung’s eyes.
Seungcheol: Friendly whenever he talked to you. A little awkward because you once saw him taking selfies at the gym instead of working out.
Seungkwan: Not super buddy-buddy but sweet enough. Liked making fun of Soonyoung with you. He brought you McDonald’s once and you imagined a future with him momentarily.
Word also got around that your front tooth had been knocked out clean. Seungcheol let it slip when he accidentally referred to you as ‘Toothless’ the other day. You made a mental note to kill Soonyoung later.
The next time you ran into your driving instructor on campus was outside one of your lecture halls. You walked out in the middle of class to fill up your hydroflask. It was especially hot today, and you were seconds away from heat exhaustion. Soonyoung’s brows lifted in pleasant surprise once he saw you, and he missed his elevator to walk up to you.
“Whoa.” You paused for a moment, unblinking. “I keep forgetting you go here.”
“I’m the hall monitor.”
“This is college. We don’t have hall monitors.”
“Self-elected,” was his response. “Speaking of, I don’t see your bathroom pass.”
“I’m not going to the bathroom. I’m filling up my water. Anyway, why would I—”
“Just this once, I’ll let you off with a warning,” he interjected, pulling out a card from the pocket of his jeans. He handed it to you, and you accepted it after a moment of hesitation. “There’s your bathroom pass. Don’t let me catch you loitering around here again.”
With that, Soonyoung walked off, leaving you utterly confused.
You flipped the business card around to see his name and number printed neatly in the middle, and you frowned in response. There was some other fine text on the back, but you didn’t take the time to read it properly as you were still baffled.
“I already have your number!” you called after him, but you just heard your driving instructor laugh to himself in response as he disappeared behind the elevator doors.
Later, after your classes ended, you went back to your study room with Junhui. He had been in the library since morning, deciding to skip his classes to prepare for his second round of midterms that he still had a few weeks for.
You told him about your encounter with Soonyoung, noting how strange it was that he casually had business cards on hand. Junhui asked to see the card, so you handed it over to him.
Upon closer inspection, Junhui raised his eyebrows, impressed. “Hall monitor rizz.”
“How was that rizz? He told me it was a bathroom pass and left.”
“Well, I’d consider it rizz since he’s asking you out on a date.”
Heat rose to your cheeks. “You think he’s asking me out on a date?”
“No, I know he’s asking you out on a date.” Junhui flipped Soonyoung’s business card around to show you the fine print: Schedule our first date with the number provided on the other side of this card. The corner of his mouth lifted. “Says it right here. He’s just shy, Y/N.”
“Shy? Him? He doesn’t look like the shy type.”
“He’s shy,” he affirmed, “around you, at least. I mean, you’d get shy around the person you liked, wouldn’t you?”
“I guess, but…” you trailed off, shaking your head. “No, this is normal, right? Dates are normal. We’re just two normal adults going on a normal date. Nothing weird about that, right? I shouldn’t feel so weird about this. Do I sound weird? Am I weird?”
You didn’t realize you had gotten up and started pacing until you turned to see Junhui looking at you with concern hanging in his brows. You sucked in a sharp breath and sank back into your seat, burying your face in your hands.
“I’m in way over my head,” you mumbled.
“You’re nervous ‘cause you have a crush on him,” he replied. “Nothing weird about that.”
“I have a crush on him,” you echoed, more so to yourself than to Junhui.
Although you were partly in denial, still tossing and turning the prospect of crushing on Soonyoung around in your head, Junhui took your words as confirmation. He hummed knowingly and turned back to his textbook, leaving you to ruminate for the next thirty minutes in silence before you excused yourself.
You were currently speed walking to your usual bus stop, hoping you would be able to stop thinking about Soonyoung and the business card tucked into your pocket. However, you couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of you developing a tiny crush on him.
You hadn’t had a proper crush in ages. The last time you had strong feelings for someone was in high school, which promptly ended following your first date—after an eight month talking stage. You proposed going to the fair, which seemed fine until you threw up on the ferris wheel and received an ‘I don’t think this is going to work out’ text later that night.
And why were you so flustered over this, anyway? After all, you had been anticipating the day Soonyoung would make the first move. Plus, you were an adult; overthinking your feelings like this was so high school.
Whatever. You had nothing to lose.
You pulled out your phone to text Soonyoung, a small smile crossing your face once you caught sight of his profile picture again. It was a picture of him with all his hair flying every which way in the wind and his mouth open to yell some profanity.
y/n: date. y/n: this week any day
soonyoung (driving instructor): WHOA!!!!!!
y/n: what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day what day
soonyoung (driving instructor): tomorrow night
y/n: okay
soonyoung (driving instructor): okay
y/n: okay.
soonyoung (driving instructor): okay. soonyoung (driving instructor): can’t wait
y/n: me neither
soonyoung (driving instructor): pick you up at 8
y/n: i’ll be ready
soonyoung (driving instructor): i’ll be even more ready
Your heart didn’t stop pounding for the rest of the day.

To be a woman was to perform.
You were currently performing an illegal U-turn.
Soonyoung held onto the ‘oh shit’ handle fixed to the ceiling, his face contorted in absolute fear as he repeated, “Wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane, wrong lane—”
“Sorry!” you exclaimed, swerving back into your correct lane after checking your mirrors. You swallowed thickly before saying, “I’ve got it under control now, I think.”
Of course, you had been nervous the entire day and a half leading up to your date with Soonyoung, but how you felt right now had completely reigned over every emotion you were feeling before.
Throughout the day, you had butterflies in your stomach and a little skip to your step, but now you were terrified of things you had never even worried about before. The reason you took a U-turn in the first place was because Soonyoung told you that you missed the parking lot entrance, causing you to panic in the middle of the road (which, on your part, was not very smart.)
In short, Soonyoung should not have let you take the wheel, and you should not have gotten this worked up over him planning to take you to the local fair.
What were the odds that you were back in the place where you had an awful last date? You could almost feel the bile rising up your throat.
Soonyoung’s voice was unnaturally high-pitched when he asked, “A-are you sure you’re ready to schedule that driving test?”
“Yes! I’m ready,” you said, “but, to make things clear, my driving today is not representative of my driving any other day.”
Somehow, you and Soonyoung wound up making it to the fairgrounds’ parking lot in one piece. You deflated upon hearing the sigh of relief escape Soonyoung’s lips once the car was in park, but it was well deserved. You were surprised he even let you drive in the first place.
The fairgrounds were packed with people—mostly students—so there were several couples going around with their fingers interlocked. You were now hyper-aware of your fingertips, wondering if you’d get the chance to brush them against Soonyoung’s and slowly slide your hand into his.
He ended up paying for your ticket, and you didn’t have much room to argue about it because the employee was already taking his card before you even noticed. You told Soonyoung you would pay for something else—food, rides, raffle tickets—but he ended up covering everything for you. Of course, you were sure Junhui would have scolded you because turning down a guy paying for you was apparently equivalent to turning down the guy himself. So, you swallowed your pride and let Soonyoung take the lead.
You went on a few rides with Soonyoung, shared a churro, and you took a picture in front of the ferris wheel. You were having a great time, actually, and almost all of your nerves had all but melted away. All that was left to deem this a perfect date was to actually ride the ferris wheel, which was exactly what you were absolutely terrified of.
“Not good with heights?” Soonyoung asked as you two were getting into the seat, pulling down the lap bar for you two.
You wondered if you looked as ghastly as you felt. “Not so much.”
You weren’t good with a lot of things, to be fair.
Smooth talker Soonyoung took that as his opportunity to slip his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together with a shy smile on his face. “You can close your eyes if it gets scary, or just keep looking at me.”
Honestly, that sounded scarier than the possibility of plummeting to your death from the top of the ferris wheel. You weren’t sure your heart could handle staring at Soonyoung, especially with how flustered his gaze made you feel.
“Hey, could I ask you something?” you asked, nearly shying away when Soonyoung fixed his gaze on you. “When did you start liking me? I mean, I had no idea.”
“Uh…” The ride started moving backward as Soonyoung hummed in thought. “Probably that first time you were in my car?”
Your eyes went wide. “You mean our very first lesson?”
“Yeah, I thought you were cute—a little weird, but cute.” He grinned. “I think it was when you fell asleep over FaceTime that one night when I started catching feelings.”
Your cheeks burned. You weren’t sure if you could pinpoint a specific moment like he did; you just remembered your heart started beating faster when you saw him one day, and the rest was history. It was almost incredible how blindsided you were by his feelings, even though he had integrated himself into your daily life so naturally.
“And then you posted that one picture on your story once,” he continued, voice growing shy once he realized what he admitted out loud, “and that was when I knew I was really in too deep.”
You blanched with embarrassment. He must have been talking about the thirst trap because that was the only time you ever posted yourself so confidently. How were you going to explain that you blocked everyone else from your Snapchat story just for him to see that?
A nervous laugh bubbled from your lips. “About that—”
Before you could get any other words out, though, you became painfully aware of your surroundings. Your seat started swinging with the strong winds, and you realized that you were at the very top. If you leaned over enough, you were pretty sure your seat would tip over and drop you and Soonyoung right out. The very thought paralyzed you to the core.
Just as Soonyoung was in the middle of asking if you were okay, the ferris wheel started moving faster, and you yelped and clung onto him as you two went down. You were fine with the slow pace with breaks in between, but now that you were moving at full speed in one go, it was downright terrifying.
Soonyoung seemed to find it hilarious, though. He laughed and wrapped an arm around you while you were the very picture of fear. You buried your face into his chest and dug your nails in so hard that you were afraid he would feel them through his sweater.
Finally, it came to a stop. The ride operator started letting people out one seat at a time, but you and Soonyoung had ended up at the very top again. You raised your head to sit upright again, letting out an exasperated breath, but Soonyoung drew you closer. He was still laughing, and it made you blush uncontrollably.
“Just so you know, I’m good with any other ride!” you tried to defend yourself. “Well, actually, save for roller coasters and drop towers… oh, and—”
“Y/N,” Soonyoung cut you off with a smile, his voice hardly a murmur. Before, you could barely hear him over the excited cries and shouts in the fair, but now your attention had zeroed in on him. You felt disoriented as he placed his warm hand on your cheek, tilting his head and leaning in. “C’mere.”
You were too shy to admit it, but you had fantasized about making out with Soonyoung before. Of course, you never knew what type of kisser he was, so you just settled for whatever fantasy played out in your head.
Now, though, with his lips pressed against yours, you felt something hot and needy stir up inside you as he tugged you impossibly close to his body. Your stomach fluttered when you let slip a whimper, which Soonyoung didn’t let go unnoticed. He pulled back for a moment, his gaze darkening, promising to return to that later, and he returned to kissing you.
When you were almost near the ground, you and Soonyoung pulled away. There were definitely far too many children and parents around for you two to be kissing like that, but now you were anticipating how things would be once you two were alone.
“You two have fun?” the ride operator, who appeared to be an older teenager, asked with a teasing lilt to his voice.
All you could do was nod and duck your head in embarrassment while Soonyoung beamed brighter than the flashing lights.

You spent some more time with Soonyoung on a few more (tamer) rides before you two decided to call it a day. Your feet were getting sore, so he courteously offered to drive the both of you home. However, you had an itching feeling that he just didn’t want you behind the wheel again.
“Wanna get something to eat?” he asked once you both were inside the car, and he turned his head around as he reversed. “There’s a good froyo place down the street.”
“Yeah, let’s do that,” you agreed quickly. Deep down, you were hoping this date wouldn’t end just yet.
Soonyoung played Olivia Rodrigo’s new album as he drove, rolling the window down so that the wind tousled his hair. You thought he looked cute that way, and you had to keep your hand under your thigh to keep it from reaching over and running it through his locks.
When he parked in front of the froyo place, it appeared completely dark inside. It was also evidently clear that the only cars parked in the lot were the overflow crowd of people from the fair who couldn’t get a parking spot at the fairgrounds.
“Did we miss it?” He frowned, pausing to look up the store hours on his iPhone. “Man. I didn’t want our date to end like this.”
“I don’t want it to end, either.”
Soonyoung looked over at you, studying your expression carefully before asking, “Do you wanna chill in the back for a while, then?”
You knew what that meant. And you had specifically worn your matching lingerie set just for this moment.
You unlatched your seatbelt, and Soonyoung followed suit right after. “Yeah, I’m down.”
“Wait, there’s something I need to do first,” Soonyoung said in a soft voice, looking down at you with gentle eyes.
For a moment, your heart jumped to your throat. The way he was looking at you sent butterflies to your stomach, and you couldn’t even imagine what he was going to do next. Something about his tone was so sincere that you were sure he was going to kiss you, especially when he started leaning down.
You let your eyes flutter shut, waiting for his soft lips to meet yours. Your heartbeat felt like a drum in your ears.
But nothing happened. No kiss. Nothing.
You opened your eyes to see what Soonyoung was doing. When you saw him hunched over, fiddling with something near his ankles, your face deadpanned—not a flicker of amusement.
Soonyoung had put his Crocs in sports mode.
First of all, wearing Crocs on the first date was absurd.
Second of all, putting your Crocs in sports mode on the first date was absolutely preposterous.
Yet, it was the perfect thing Soonyoung had done to put your nerves completely at ease. You ended up bursting into laughter at the very sight, making his head shoot up while his eyebrows were drawn together, perplexed. However, he happened to hit his head on the steering wheel as he did so, which only made you laugh even harder.
Your sudden surge of confidence spurred you to crawl over the gear stick and straddle his lap. Shocked, Soonyoung gripped your thighs and straightened up. Before his lip could curl up in amusement, you wrapped your arms around his neck and slotted your lips with his.
He broke for air for a moment, breathing out, “Well, hi.”
“Hi.” Your nose gently bumped against his. “Having second thoughts?”
“No!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands up and down your sides. “I just didn’t wanna start anything because I wasn’t sure if you were ready.” He threw a glance over his shoulder before looking out the window. “Plus, this place isn’t exactly private.”
You looked out the window while Soonyoung’s warm hands returned to your thighs. It was true that there were empty cars around, but there weren’t any people in sight. It was still early in the night, so you were sure people would stay at the fairgrounds until midnight.
“Hey,” Soonyoung started again, “what was that you were gonna say on the ferris wheel? Before we, uh, made out.”
“Oh.” Shame bubbled in your chest when you realized what he was talking about. “Nothing important.”
“Tell me.”
Moonlight shone in from the window, illuminating the side of Soonyoung’s face and his neck, showing off his prominent collarbones. His low voice reached your core in a way you had never experienced before. You flushed with embarrassment because you were certain Soonyoung could feel how you clenched.
You looked out the window, as if you could mentally escape through it. Find a way to get out of the situation you were in.
“Fine.” He huffed lightly before placing a hand behind your neck and drawing you closer. “I’ll just get it out of you, then.”
Notably flustered, you gasped when Soonyoung’s lips latched onto the side of your neck, biting and sucking the tender skin. You croaked out some lame lie about forgetting what you were trying to say, but Soonyoung persisted. He ravaged the column of your neck like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
You scooted up on his lap, sitting right on top of his growing bulge, which roused a throaty groan from him. You could feel Soonyoung twitch under you, and it was all that was needed for you to start grinding your hips slowly on his lap. And then he started guiding your hips down onto him. Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers dig into the grooves of your hips to take control of your motions.
“Tell me,” he beseeched, and you shivered when you could feel his smile against your jawline.
You let out a whine. “It’s embarrassing.”
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, distracted as he looked up at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. His hands never left your hips as he watched you grind down on his lap. Soonyoung’s eyes were unfocused for a moment before clarity bled back into him. “It was about the Snapchat story, right? That one picture you posted.”
“I don’t remember what that was,” you attempted to lie smoothly, but you were pretty sure your expression betrayed you once Soonyoung slid a hand under your shirt to cup your chest.
“Yeah, you do. The one where you were wearing those thigh-high stockings.” You saw a flash of darkness in his eyes. “Can’t believe everyone got to see you like that.”
“I wouldn’t say everyone,” you muttered.
“Hm?”
His thumb, after his hand managed to creep under your bra, found purchase on your nipple, rolling and circling around the supple flesh as he pleased. You only managed to let out a cry before Soonyoung was pressing you further, ordering you to answer him before he made you fall apart.
You were so caught up in your own pleasure, practically chest-to-chest with Soonyoung, that you hardly noticed the knock on the window until Soonyoung jolted upright and straightened his back.
“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, voice still thick with lust that was ebbing away. Thankfully, you both were still mostly clothed, but Soonyoung had his pants nearly down and you had your shirt riding up past your waist.
The officer stopped knocking to give Soonyoung the opportunity to roll the window down after he was decent. It was evidently an uncomfortable situation for both parties. You turned your head to the side, screwing your eyes shut and hoping you would blink out of existence if you tried hard enough. You never thought you would have a cop at your window before even getting your license.
“Hi,” he greeted sheepishly once the window was down. “Sorry, we’ll get going now.”
“Yeah, uh…” The officer trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with a long-winded sigh. “I’ll let you off with a warning this time, but keep it in the bedroom, please.”
“Thanks…” Soonyoung trailed off, looking for some sort of identification tag.
“Officer Hong,” he answered flatly.
“Thanks, Officer Hong.”
“Don’t let me catch you two again.”
“Oh, probably not me, but once she gets her license then it’s over for—ow!” Soonyoung yelped when you pinched him in the side, effectively shutting him up. He immediately apologized, “Sorry, Officer Hong, it won’t happen again.”

The encounter with the police officer was awkward, yes, but somehow, Soonyoung was unfazed once you two had gotten off with the warning. He coolly looked up at you and asked if he could come over to your place tonight. You agreed, of course.
The drive home was perfectly fine. Soonyoung made sure you weren’t too startled by the officer and asked how you liked the fair. You thought it was all pleasant conversation that would continue once you were in your living room, but Soonyoung pinned you up against your front door as soon as you were inside.
His strong arms caged you in his hold, and you could only helplessly look up at him and warble out some pathetic question, asking if he wanted water or snacks. He turned the offer down, obviously.
Since you two had already gotten this far, you figured you might as well let Soonyoung in on your little secret. Although it was slightly humiliating to admit, you realized tonight that far more embarrassing things had happened to you.
“You really wanna know, don’t you?” When he nodded in response, you sighed and explained, “What I posted on my story… I blocked everyone else so that only you’d see it.”
Well, him and Mingyu, but the latter was purely accidental.
Hearing your words flipped a switch in Soonyoung and he completely froze up, as if he had stopped functioning altogether.
“Well, technically, you and Mingyu,” you rambled on, “but that’s only because I forgot to block him from my story. You know, I have, like, two hundred people on Snapchat, so I figured I’d accidentally skip over someone, anyway. But I don’t think he even paid any attention to it. I feel like he’d—”
He cut you off by sealing his lips over yours, and all the noise in your head simmered down. All the fluff filling up your brain billowed and sank back down. You remembered when you were a middle schooler, giggling and replaying the scenes in movies that were exactly like this. Now that you were actually living in it, though, you couldn’t get enough of Soonyoung.
He broke away for a breather, lips hanging barely an inch from yours and your foreheads touching. His heavily-lidded eyes found yours, gazing at you longingly through his lashes.
“No offense,” he started with a smirk, “but I don’t really care about Mingyu right now.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but you shut it as soon as you realized that you had nothing intelligent to contribute. You recognized that most of your mindless ramblings probably killed the mood—for you, at least.
He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then the side of your neck. As he moved down to your chest, Soonyoung’s kisses grew sloppier and open-mouthed. He tugged at your shirt, and you helped him remove it with ease, snapping your bra off in the process and letting it fall to the floor. His hungry gaze upon seeing you bare before him made you ache for more. Soonyoung let out a groan and let his tongue drag over your nipple, circling and flicking around the sensitive skin until you were moaning shamelessly.
With his head ducked so that his lips could ravage your chest, Soonyoung bent down just a little bit more to wrap his arms around your thighs. He scooped you up in his arms swiftly, making you yelp, and he walked you to your bedroom after you whispered where your room was. He was so strong that you hardly had to hold onto him, but his strength was a double-edged sword because he had you pinned down on your bed in seconds.
A grin crossed Soonyoung’s face as his lips returned to your chest. This time, his lips made their way down your body, to your stomach. You curled your hand in his hair, tugged hard because you wanted more, but Soonyoung was relentless with his teasing. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses that made you squirm under him and ache for more. They were slow and torturous, and you only grew more needy as he made his way down.
“Can I take these off?” he asked, fingers slipping into the waistband of your pants.
“Only if you take your clothes off, too.”
You heard him chuckle before you felt cold air starting to hit your bare skin. Soonyoung unzipped your pants and tugged them down your legs until they were bunched up at your ankles, which you struggled to kick off until he bent down to move the fabric off your heel. You shuddered when he snapped the band of your underwear, hooking his fingers at the sides and twisting the fabric. He sure was enjoying toying with you, and you weren’t sure you could handle any more teasing. After what felt like forever, Soonyoung pulled the last of your undergarments down and marveled at your bare body.
“You’re unbelievable,” he all but growled, running his hands down your sides, to your hips, and past your thighs. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”
You sat up, looking up at him with a pout, which only seemed to drive Soonyoung to the brink of madness.
“You’re still clothed,” you observed.
“Yes.”
“Take it off.” You folded your arms across your chest. “I can’t be the only one naked.”
“Whatever you say, princess,” he replied with a laugh. You supposed he could see your expression falter, nearly letting some pathetic sound fall from your lips, so Soonyoung cooed at you and ran his thumb over your lower lip. “Oh, you like that? Like it when I call you princess?”
You did like it. You liked it too much for your own good, and it was almost humiliating.
Soonyoung towered over you as he peeled off his shirt, grabbing it from the nape of his neck and slipping it off in seconds. Your eyes ran over his beautiful expanse of skin, from every defined muscle in his abdomen to the little goosebumps that pricked his arms. You reached out to run your fingers down his abs, letting them trace each groove and dip in muscle. Soonyoung shivered at your very touch, but he allowed you to make your way down to undo his belt and pants.
Your fingers were fumbling, but you managed to remove the latch after several failed attempts. He guided you with his steadier hands, but you were determined to do it yourself. Finally, you pulled his belt free and pushed his pants down his legs.
He seemed to be slightly embarrassed, but Soonyoung was already rock hard. His cock sprang up so that the tip pushed past the waistband of his boxers.
“Don’t worry about that,” he grumbled, sinking to his knees and placing his hands on your thighs. “I’ll take care of you first.”
He grabbed your knees and pushed them apart, staring at your soaked cunt like it was everything he ever wanted. Soft kisses peppered the inside of your thighs, working up to the apex of your legs. You felt the cold air hit your core and shivered, but then it was hot all over again once Soonyoung licked one long, slow stripe that made you writhe and cry out in bliss. He had to press your hips down to keep you from moving too much.
But his movements were so slow and torturous. You were going insane by how much Soonyoung was teasing you with his kitten licks and lazy drags of tongue. Tears welled up in your eyes by the time you had been edged away from another impending orgasm, with him letting his dissolve as soon as the heat bloomed under your skin.
Kissing your cunt. Plunging his tongue into your core. Licking at your walls until they trembled and shook with the warning of release. You were agonized by how good Soonyoung was making you feel.
“Please,” you begged, your voice breathless as your body felt lightweight, “let me cum, please.”
“Hm.” He seemed to consider it for a moment before saying, “Tell me three things you like about me, and I’ll let you cum.”
You laughed, but it died on your tongue as soon as you realized there was no amusement on his face.
“You’re kidding, right?” You swallowed hard, knowing you had your answer already. “Oh, you’re not kidding.”
He was making you work for your orgasm. This was mortifying; you never expected Soonyoung to be so cruel, and you never expected it to be so hot.
“Three things, baby,” he said. “Start with number one.”
“One,” you started, your voice shaky as Soonyoung returned to snaking his tongue past your folds, “I like how you treat me so well and look after me, like—oh, right there—yeah, like that.”
“Two,” you continued, more so in a whimper because Soonyoung was skillfully using his tongue to reach places you never thought to stimulate before. “I, ah—I like the way you look at me and when you tell me I’m beautiful.” You sucked in your teeth when you felt him press his tongue flat against your clit. “Soonyoung, please.”
“One more,” he murmured.
“T-three,” you breathed out, and by this point, your legs were already shaking. Your brain was turning to mush and you couldn’t help but clench at Soonyoung lapping at your soaked cunt. The tremor in your voice was unmistakable when you admitted, “I love how you’re so much better at this than I ever could’ve imagined.”
He breathed out a laugh against your cunt. “Am I really?” He tightened his grip on your hips to suck on your clit, making your back arch and your chest feel light. “You think about me that often, princess?”
“Mmhm,” you confirmed with your eyes screwed shut. “Thought about you whenever I was—”
“Don’t finish that,” he warned, though it almost sounded like he was pleading with you, “or I’ll go crazy.”
Your nerves felt like they had tangled themselves into several knots that kept tightening in your stomach. You shuddered and moaned with each motion of Soonyoung’s tongue that brought you closer to your release. He was merciless with the way he dipped his tongue in your core, rubbing your clit with his thumb in slow circles.
Your walls tightened one last time before you were finally blinded by your white-hot orgasm, and you hardly even realized that hot tears were streaming down your cheeks. Soonyoung was eating you out unabated, not even giving you a break between each wave of pleasure that hit you. After your climax subsided and coherency gradually bled back into you, Soonyoung finally pulled back and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
You grabbed his arm before he could say anything. Soonyoung looked you in the eyes for a moment, alarmed, but the worry knitting his brows together melted away once you pulled him down for a proper kiss.
With your arms wrapped around his neck and his knee between your legs, Soonyoung eventually found himself lowering his body until your chests were pressed together. He kept himself up by his elbows and pulled away to look at you. He brushed your hair out of your face and leaned in for another kiss.
As you two became a tangled mess of limbs, wrapped up in each other and far too occupied to care about anything but making out, you moved your hand down Soonyoung’s abs to wrap your hand around his cock. He groaned against your lips and rocked his hips against your touch.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with lust. After reaching back to tug his boxers down, freeing his cock from the restricting fabric, Soonyoung looked down at you with desire glazing over his eyes. “May I?”
“Please do,” you answered.
You cried out when he started rubbing the head of his cock against your cunt, teasing your folds like he did before. You were aching already despite your previous orgasm, and you thought you were going to die on the spot from how needy you were.
“Turn onto your stomach,” he ordered. You were confused for a moment, but you ended up being manhandled by Soonyoung, anyway. He flipped you over and positioned himself at your entrance, keeping one hand on the back of your neck. “Good girl.”
The side of your face was pressed into the sheets, and your hands were desperately reaching for anything that gave you proper leverage. You ended up grabbing onto the pillows just as Soonyoung started pushing his cock inside you. You swallowed down the gasp that dared threaten to escape, and Soonyoung pressed kisses to your face and made sure you weren’t crying from how big he was.
With more filth and praises whispered into your ear, you were clenching and unclenching around him, making Soonyoung groan whenever he felt you tighten. It took a while for him to ease his way into you, but once Soonyoung had finally nestled inside of you, it was as if a switch flipped in him.
He was thrusting as soon as you gave him the green light. You were blindsided by how intense he was, hardly having any control over your own body as you held onto the sheets for dear life. Soonyoung held your hips with a bruising grip as he fucked into you.
Hot.
Everything felt hot and sticky. Your sweat-matted hair clung to the back of your neck, and you felt like your sheets were uncomfortably damp. Despite it all, though, you couldn’t get enough. You needed more, wanted more. Soonyoung was relentless, even when your box springs creaked and the frame rattled against the wall.
You felt his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck. You’re taking me so well.”
Still overly-sensitive from your previous orgasm, it didn’t take long for you to reach your limit a second time. Soonyoung pounded into you with fervor, and even he was quickly falling apart.
“That’s it,” he got out, teeth gritted. “That’s my girl.”
You pulled him down for a deep kiss, muffling both of your moans once you were clenching uncontrollably around him. You were falling from your peak and Soonyoung fucked you through your orgasm, even though he was on the verge of one himself.
He pulled out right before he was about to cum, and you could only hear his groans before you realized he had gotten off, too. For a moment, you thought Soonyoung abandoned you on the bed. His voice sounded distant all of a sudden, and you were too tuckered out to move.
Then, he returned with a towel and several tissues for you. You turned onto your back again to make out his silhouette entering the room and taking a seat next to you. Your eyes were shut as Soonyoung cleaned you up, and you only opened them once he pushed your hair back and kissed your cheek.
“Wanna go again?” he asked with a grin. You were impressed by how quickly he was able to recover. You, on the other hand, needed a few minutes to recuperate. “The night’s still young.”
“Yeah, sure, if you use a condom this time,” you breathed out, turning over onto your side. “Just give me five.”
You closed your eyes for a moment, letting your chest rise and fall until its rhythm steadied. Your breathing was even again, but when you opened your eyes, you saw neon green glowing in the middle of the room.
“Soonyoung.” You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. You were not getting dicked down by manga censorship. “Why is your dick glowing?”
“I prefer glow-in-the-dark condoms.”

Typically, when two individuals had feelings for each other, it would often bloom into a relationship.
It was quite clear that you had feelings for Soonyoung and he had feelings for you, so, naturally, one would expect the two of you to start dating. However, it felt like you both were testing the waters around each other instead—dipping your toes into the dating pool. You two were exclusive, but not exactly together.
You were perfectly content with taking things slow, but that didn’t necessarily mean Soonyoung didn’t end up over you almost every other night. The sex was great, of course. Mind-blowing, even.
Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Seungkwan seemed to catch on quickly. There was no mistaking what was going on after you went over to their apartment to play Catan, and then you and Soonyoung disappeared into his room afterward. The next morning, when you walked downstairs in Soonyoung’s shirt to eat breakfast with everyone, you could pick up on their unspoken realization that you were hooking up with their roommate.
Seungkwan even made an offhand comment about you and Soonyoung being a thing—whatever that was supposed to mean.
You debriefed Junhui on the entire situation, of course. He seemed less surprised about you sleeping with Soonyoung, though, and more interested in the outcome of your driving test (which, you had to admit, you were terribly worried about).
The night before your dreaded behind-the-wheel exam, you received a call from Soonyoung.
You weren’t sure what to expect when you picked up the call. You knew that he’d been planning on getting high with his housemates today, so you weren’t exactly sure if this phone call was going to be private or not. You were half-expecting Seungcheol to answer for him instead.
“Hey,” Soonyoung greeted, voice slightly muffled. With the way the audio sounded, you suspected that he wasn’t holding onto his phone at the moment.
“Are you busy?” you asked.
“No, just trying to get the pod you gave me out of its packaging.” You heard a few strained grunts from him before he exclaimed, “I got it!”
“I’m proud of you.”
“That’s what I’ll be telling you after you ace that driving test,” he said. He paused for a moment (which you guessed was him taking a hit). “You ready for it, by the way?”
“Not really.” You sucked in a sharp breath. “The good news is that taking years to pass the permit test has helped me memorize all the rules of the road; the bad news is that I have severe anxiety and probably won’t be able to utilize anything I’ve learned.”
“You’ll be fine, Y/N. You drove just fine with me, didn’t you?”
“But that’s you! How am I gonna drive properly with some scary old guy who probably hasn't ever smiled in his life?”
“Just relax. Remember to slow down on your turns and check your blind spots when you’re changing lanes.”
Your voice grew shy when you admitted, “This is gonna sound weird, but I kind of miss our driving lessons.”
“Even when you lost your tooth?”
You grimaced. “Even then.”
Soonyoung laughed along with you for a moment before he simmered. The silence on the other side of the line didn’t feel uncomfortable, but you felt like each nerve end of yours was on fire.
“I didn’t want it to end either, Y/N,” Soonyoung said after a while, his voice dropping an octave.
“Really?”
“I don’t wanna be in a world where we aren’t in a car together, whether I’m telling you to stop driving under the speed limit or we’re crashing into that Honda Civic that knocked your front tooth out,” he started, and you scratched the back of your head. Yeah, he was definitely high. “And, maybe… maybe the missing front tooth was really the catalyst for all the memories we made along the way. Maybe, in another universe, that tooth never fell out—or existed. Maybe the concept of that occurrence manifested into this universe as a—”
“Okay, it was cute at first,” you interrupted, “but you’re definitely in that other universe right now.”

You had never been this much of a nervous wreck.
Actually, scratch that. You were probably this much of a nervous wreck at least thrice a week. You functioned on being anxious several times a day, so this was honestly not a new feeling. The only problem was that you had never driven with anyone other than Soonyoung, so you were slightly on edge as you turned into the DMV.
“Please return my car in one piece,” Soonyoung said, holding onto the ‘oh shit’ handle as you went over a speed bump, which you found highly unnecessary. He pointed to the starting point for the driving test. “I’ll wait for you outside the building over there.”
“Sounds good.”
“And remember: if you’re gonna fail the test, make sure you fail it big time. Don’t fail it by going ten over the speed limit, or something boring like that.”
“That’s terrible advice, Soonyoung.”
“I’m playing. You’re gonna be just fine.”
“Thanks, I’m just so—oh my god!”
You stepped on the breaks immediately, gripping the wheel tight as the car lurched forward. The man who was crossing in front of you doubled over onto the hood of the car before standing upright again. You rolled your window down to yell an apology, but the man paid you no attention and kept walking with a scowl on his face.
“I almost killed him!” you cried, slapping a hand over your mouth.
“Well…” Soonyoung didn’t seem to know how to reassure you as he was still immobilized with fear himself. He managed a shaky grin. “On the bright side, he’s alive and you’re not facing a lawsuit.”
You swallowed hard. There was no way this exam was going to go well.
After handing in the necessary paperwork inside the DMV, they approved you to go outside for your driving test. Since Soonyoung was letting you use his car while he waited outside, he sat with you until your examiner came by. He did everything he could to calm you down, but, ultimately, it was up to you to pass.
While Soonyoung was giving his seat up for your examiner, you closed your eyes and tried to take deep breaths to mentally prepare.
“Ma’am, can you turn on your left turn signal?” the examiner asked from your window.
When you turned to look at him, you felt something inside you shrivel up and die.
The man you almost ran over was your examiner.
In your daze, you managed to follow his instructions as he asked you to point out various things, such as the windshield wipers, defroster, and foot brake. All the while you were already preparing yourself for failure because there was absolutely no way this man was going to let you pass after almost becoming your victim.
Once the pre-drive safety check was over, he circled around the car to sit in the passenger’s seat, looking down at his clipboard for a moment. You held your tongue, hands clasped together in your lap. Were you supposed to apologize? Would he even care about your apology? It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, right?
You started in a meek voice, “Oh, about what happened earlier, I’m so—”
“I’m Jeonghan, and I’m gonna be scoring your behind-the-wheel test today,” he cut you off with an air of indifference, looking back down at his clipboard. “Whenever you start the car is when the test begins.”
“Right—yes, okay.” You swallowed thickly and gripped the wheel, looking behind you to make sure no one was coming. Since there were a few cars driving by, you decided to wait for a moment. “A-are you having a good day?”
“I was.”
You wanted to crawl in a hole and drop dead.
After the road was clear, you turned out of the DMV and started driving down the road, checking your speed and mirrors every so often. You had always been comfortably driving with Soonyoung, who would just help you reroute if you missed a turn. Now, though, if you missed anything Jeonghan said, you were going to fail (and probably die).
“Take the right coming up here,” he instructed.
You remembered your turn signal and to look back over your shoulder. Soonyoung had taught you well, but you were afraid that his gentle instructions would only take you so far. Jeonghan was the most intimidating person you had come across (mostly because you almost killed him), and you should not have been trusted to drive someone you were terribly scared of.
After you made the turn, you sighed in relief at the long stretch of road ahead. You attempted to cover it up by clearing your throat and making small talk with Jeonghan.
“It’s pretty cold today, isn’t it?” you asked. Stupid question. You had no idea how cold it was. Soonyoung’s car felt like a sauna because you cranked up the heater, or maybe the heat was from how nervous you were.
Jeonghan promptly ignored you. “Change lanes and take the next left.”
Albeit your state of disarray, you followed what he said. You decided to give up on small talk altogether, coming to the conclusion that Jeonghan just hated you and didn’t want to converse with the person who almost murdered him in cold blood.
You were pretty confident that the rest of your driving test went horribly. You almost went ten under the speed limit to make sure you didn’t run over anyone else in the school zone, you shrieked when the railroad lights turned on and you had to wait for the train to pass by, and you looked both ways about five times when you were at a stop sign.
Jeonghan told you to park the car once you reached the DMV, so you pulled into an empty parking space. You were praying that he wasn’t still grading you because you were most definitely occupying two parking spaces right now.
“Okay, so,” he started, looking at his clipboard before turning to you with a deadpan stare, “you drive too slow.”
Oh. That was intentional because you didn’t want to deal with another hit and run, but you stayed quiet and nodded.
“And,” he continued, “you overthink too much when you’re behind the wheel. Don’t hesitate before you stop or make turns, or you’re just gonna run into trouble that way. You can’t be paranoid about driving, otherwise it’s gonna be hard for you to be on the road.”
You pressed your lips together in a tight line. This was it. He was going to fail you. There was no way you were going to pass when you were being criticized for your entire performance. You didn’t blame Jeonghan, though; you probably wouldn’t pass the person who almost ran you over, either.
“Well, you were cutting it really close,” he said, circling some parts of your examination sheet, “but you passed.”
Your eyes grew wide.
You passed.
You passed.
You turned to Jeonghan and cried out, “I passed?!”
“You know your car, you know the rules of the road, and you did all your maneuvers just fine,” he continued. “You slowed down in the school zone to make sure you didn’t hit any kids, and you were careful about your turns and stops. Just remember not to be too careful, though, or you might run into someone.”
For the first time, you heard a small snicker of amusement come from him.
“I—I’m so sorry about that,” you blurted out. “I thought you were gonna fail me for hitting you with the car.”
“Like I said, the test begins when you start the car.” He handed you your papers and got out of your car. Before closing the door, he turned to you with his clipboard tucked under his arm. “You should go tell the DMV you passed and get your temporary license before I mark you down for this parking job.”
You gulped, unbuckling your seatbelt in a rush. “Will do.”
Jeonghan stalked off to grade another new driver, you supposed. When you got out of the car, your eyes immediately scanned the perimeter to search for Soonyoung, and there he was, waving you over from the sidewalk with a bright grin on his face.
Before you could even make your way over and break the news to him, he yelled out with his hands cupped around his mouth, “That’s my girl!”
You blushed, stopping in your tracks and staring at him for so long that it took a car honking at you to propel you back into motion. You scrambled over to Soonyoung, eyes wide as saucers and still frazzled from the emotional turmoil you went through with Jeonghan.
He wrapped an arm around you. “You know, no matter the result, I’m proud of you for trying. There’s always next time, you know?”
“Soonyoung—”
“Did everything else go well, though? Other than you almost killing him, obviously.”
“Soonyoung, I—”
“It was probably just bad luck, honestly. I mean, it was a recoverable bump, not even a full-on crash! You were going so slow that anyone could walk that off.”
“Soonyoung!” you yelled, thrusting your score sheet into his hands. “I passed!”
His eyes widened. “You passed?!”
“I passed!” you squealed. “I have to tell Junhui! I mean, he totally thought I was gonna fail my first two or six tries!”
Soonyoung crushed you into a hug, which would’ve been more endearing if your ribs weren’t being squeezed so hard. “Holy shit, Y/N, I’m so proud of you.”
You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Be my girlfriend,” he spoke against your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin, and you immediately froze.
Kwon Soonyoung wanted to be your boyfriend. Even with everything that had happened—from the STIIZY pods, to the car crash, to the glow-in-the-dark condom—you still felt relief flooding your veins at the thought of Soonyoung liking you as much as you liked him. It almost felt like you were in a dream.
After what felt like an eternity, you finally remembered how to breathe.
You pulled back to look at him, and even though it was the middle of the day, it felt like all the stars were out to make Soonyoung shine brighter than usual.
“Be my girlfriend,” he repeated, softer this time, and his eyes were gentle as his hands reached for yours. Your lips immediately tugged down and your eyes were welling up with tears. “No, no, no, Y/N, don’t start crying at the DMV.”
You wiped at the corner of your eye. “I can’t help it. I always cry at the DMV.” He smiled down at you fondly, waiting for you to gather your composure. You mustered up the strength to lift your head and nod eagerly. “I accept.”
He was your boyfriend now. The word felt strange on your tongue, but it also filled you with inexplicable happiness. And when you saw how Soonyoung’s eyes crinkled at the corners, you thought you could definitely get used to this.
“You’re so cute.” He laughed, pulling you into his embrace once again. “How about we go get something to eat after you tell them your score?”
You grinned. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
While Soonyoung was waiting in the car for you (and probably readjusting your terrible parking job before he got yelled at), you walked into the DMV and stood in the same line you were in months ago for your permit test. You remembered the anxious feeling of possibly failing your written test a seventh time, but now you felt a huge weight being lifted off your shoulders.
“I did it,” you gushed to the woman at the counter, handing her your score sheet. “I passed.”
“Congratulations!” she chirped, examining the papers before turning to type something on her computer. She turned to grab your temporary license from the printer and handed it to you. “Here you go. Your real one should come in the mail in a few weeks.”
“Thank you so much,” you replied, inspecting your new license with bright eyes.
You failed your permit test six times, only passing on your seventh attempt. While other children were getting their licenses at the age of sixteen, you were still trying to pass the written test in your twenties. And, yes, you had severe driving anxiety, but you crossed that hurdle yourself and finally passed your driving test on your first try.
So, that glass ceiling? Consider it smashed.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so so much for reading if you've made it this far !! :') i've been wanting to write for hoshi for so long and this was just so fun <3 also BIG shoutout to everyone who asked to be on the tag list because although i couldn't respond to everyone (mostly because i figured i would end up tagging everyone twice 🧎♀️ ), i mega appreciate your interest ♡ hope everyone's having a wonderful day/night !!
TAG LIST ▸ @wonudazed @delicatewinterenthusiast @aaniag @primoppang @matchahyuck @xiaoting999 @alsktudy @fixonbreakoff @simqly-yunjin @kwonshiho @cottoncheol @nishloves @sarcasticsweetlara @ult-bee @vanishingboots @l2vedive @phenomenalgirl9 @notevenheretbh1 @hopetiger10 @junyangis @fyladymars @lilsafsafbooyah @kwanhaos @alltheshineofthestars-blog
Bluff and Nonsense - she/her ver.

genres: romance, angst, some fluff, university au, not a fake dating au pairing: female reader x hoshi words: 17.0k (01:08) warnings: cursing, alcohol notes (orig, 2020): "so the title is fluffy and this was a title fic, but then it ran away on me. I really like this one so... yeah. Enjoy!” update, 2023: this is the she/her version of Bluff and Nonsense. other than the pronouns, nothing else has been changed. you can find the original they/them version here, and the he/him version here
“Soonyoung? Yeah I know him, you should too. He’s on the uni’s dance crew, and ever since he joined them, their popularity’s skyrocketed. I’ve met him a few times, great guy — got a tendency to run his mouth but hey, no one’s perfect. He’s smart anyways, probably knows how to deal with the consequences, right?”
or
Soonyoung never thought one bluff could lead to so much nonsense.

Kwon Soonyoung is a man of many talents. He’s the guy who could fit a whole orange in his mouth in fourth grade, the guy who always knew how to make the social studies teacher talk about his divorce instead of the world wars, and the guy who brought a live pigeon to school with no one questioning him whatsoever. He’s also the head choreographer of the university’s dance crew — you barely knew there was a dance crew until he showed up with his hand-drawn posters — as well as a totally well-rounded fine arts major. C’mon, who takes a chemistry course in the fine arts? Kwon Soonyoung, apparently.
Of his many talents though, lying is not one of them.
Which is why, when asked if he likes anyone, Soonyoung says your name instead of simply saying “no” (a much better option in hindsight). He actually likes a girl on his dance crew. Cute, funny, has those eyes you can just get lost in — lord knows Soonyoung has. But, at this relatively quiet party, with half the guests crowded on Seungcheol’s couch and the other half on the disgusting carpeted floor of his apartment, Soonyoung can’t admit his real crush because she’s sitting just a few feet away.
It wouldn’t be such a bad lie if you weren’t also sitting a few feet away.
You’re on your phone when he says your name in his heartbeat-induced panic, but you look up at the sound of it, as does Seungkwan, who was reading something on your phone from the beanbag chair you’re both sitting in.
A chorus of low, teasing ‘ooh’s rises throughout the room, almost like it’s eighth grade again and Soonyoung just got called down to the office. Except now, he might actually be in trouble. He gets a few claps on the back from his friends close enough to reach, commending him on his bravado even though he doesn’t deserve it. Really, the whole situation only dawns on Soonyoung after 6.8 seconds, which is a bit too long considering he made the situation in the first place. Blood rushes to his cheeks, not because of the alcohol in his red cup he’s yet to drink, but because you’re looking right at him, and he has no idea what to do.
Soonyoung doesn’t know you very well. In fact, he’d almost say he doesn’t know you at all.
You’re Seungkwan’s friend from one of his classes — computing science, if Soonyoung remembers correctly, but he’s not totally confident. The only reason you came tonight is because of Seungkwan. You don’t know anyone else.
With a tilt of your head, your face scrunches with question, and you look to Seungkwan for help. You know Soonyoung said your name, but you missed hearing the context. It looks like Seungkwan missed it too, seeing as the conversation you two have only makes your brow furrow more as the room chatter picks back up. Everyone else is already over Soonyoung’s sudden confession when Jeonghan starts talking about something else.
Except Soonyoung’s friends, of course. That would be too easy.
Mingyu turns to him with a stupid smile, his cheeks red from both the free opportunity to tease his upperclassman and the light beer he’s been sipping and pretending to get buzzed on all night. He nudges Soonyoung with his shoulder where they sit on the floor, leaning in to speak under the conversations surrounding them. “You didn’t tell me you like her,” he says, the jesting tone in his voice clearer than water.
“Yeah...” Soonyoung doesn’t know why he doesn’t just retract his confession, it’s not like Mingyu is close to you or anything, he’d understand. But then again, he’s bad at lying, and the girl he likes is still sitting on the couch. He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s sort of a recent thing.”
Mingyu’s smile only widens at Soonyoung’s response, his eyes turning to slits with the rise of his cheeks. “Soonie’s in looove~!”
And Soonyoung doesn’t know what to say. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before, not exactly like this, anyways. So he just looks down, scratches the back of his neck again, looks at one of his dance crew friends when she calls his name.
He doesn’t dare glance your way for the rest of the night.
Turns out you do know someone else other than Seungkwan, because once most of the guests have cleared out, leaving only half the boys to clean up, Seokmin approaches Soonyoung as he scrubs the sink of whatever that weird green stuff is.
He asks how Soonyoung knows you and says off-handedly that he’s never even seen the two of you talk. (Which is right.) He says these things shouldn’t be joked about, that you’re a person with feelings, and Soonyoung should leave you alone if he’s just doing this for comedy’s sake.
Soonyoung thinks he’s never seen Seokmin so serious.
It’s probably fine. You haven’t said anything good or bad, and other than the occasional tease from his friends, no one has taken anything too far. Maybe you’ll forget about it tomorrow. Maybe he’ll forget about it tomorrow, and it will all be okay.
Besides, it’s not like he actually likes you. And his real secret is still safe and sound.
•
Of Soonyoung’s many talents, making people sad is also not one of them.
It’s not that he actively tries to cause misery only to fail, it’s that he can’t stand upsetting anyone. He’s a people-pleaser by nature, that’s just how it is.
So he doesn’t say no when you ask him out for coffee.
And he smiles at you when you try to make conversation, even though it’s awkward and hesitant despite having a mutual friend like Seungkwan. It’s not so bad, he thinks. You’re trying, at least, and when you ask him about his interests, you actually listen, which isn’t common when he tends to over-explain his love for dance and performance. He has a coffee in his hand too, so that’s a plus.
You ask him if what he said at the party was true, and something in your eyes makes him say yes.
•
There are a few more coffee dates after that. It’s nothing official, and Soonyoung is hesitant to call the meetups “dates” because he’s not interested in dating you. But it’s a little late for that.
You seem brighter, though, every time he sees you again; he can’t bring himself to take that away, to cut the cord, to clean this mess he made.
Something about the way you two talk is nice, at least. Soonyoung can’t quite put his finger on it, and he tells himself that’s what’s drawing him back every time, not the guilt he feels sunken in his ribcage whenever you smile his way. It’s not that deep, he repeats to himself whenever you wave to him on campus, making him feel obligated to walk you to class. It’s not that deep.
He’s in the library one day when he spots you at one of the tables, books open and spread out as you scribble down notes, a pair of earbuds dangling from your ears. You haven’t seen him, so he doesn’t try to approach, just ducks back behind the bookshelf he’s been exploring. His hand is on a book he might like when a voice stops him.
“You know you’re an idiot, right?”
Minghao leans against the opposite bookshelf, his arms crossed, locked and loaded for judgement. Soonyoung looks around, but of course he’s talking to him. They’re the only ones in the row.
“Um, how do you want me to answer that?” he asks, unsure of exactly what Minghao’s talking about. Yeah, he knows he’s a bit dense sometimes, but not all the time.
Minghao rolls his eyes. “I know you like Sehee. You haven't stopped laughing like an idiot at her bad jokes." He nods his chin outwards, gesturing over Soonyoung's shoulder and through the bookshelves towards where you're sitting. "What are you doing messing with Seungkwan's friend?"
It’s not too surprising that Minghao knows — he’s an intuitive guy, but Soonyoung is still caught off guard. He asks first, under his breath, “Does anyone else know?”
“If you mean dumb and dumber, then no.” Minghao jerks his head to swing his dark bangs out of his eyes. Everyone keeps telling him to just cut his hair shorter, but he refuses for the aesthetic, or something. “Chan is way too focused on dancing to notice your dumbassery, and Jun is about as observant as a fishcake when it comes to feelings.”
Soonyoung’s shoulders fall in relief, though he didn’t even realize they’d tensed up.
“But that’s not the problem here. Why are you playing around with her if you’re into Sehee?”
“I’m not—” Soonyoung pauses, thoughts deliberate, “—I’m not playing around, okay? I just... I don’t know. You were all looking at me, and I couldn’t just say Sehee's name, she was right there!”
Minghao cocks an eyebrow at that. “But you could say hers?”
“It was a moment of weakness.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I’m aware.”
Soonyoung groans quietly — he’s still in a library after all. He covers his face with both hands, not wanting to look at Minghao nor have Minghao look at him. For a second, it’s blissful, awkward silence, which Soonyoung would take over Minghao’s scolding any day. But of course, no haven lasts forever.
“You’re gonna have to tell her,” Minghao says, and he’s probably right. No, he is right, Soonyoung just doesn’t want him to be.
“I can’t do that! I said I like her— twice!”
“Twice?”
“Twice!”
Minghao only drops his head for a second, scoffing at the whole situation. Soonyoung wishes he could do that too, just laugh it off because it’s someone else’s problem.
“Well, you’re going to have to say something sooner or later.” Meeting his eyes, Soonyoung realizes Minghao might actually be worried. About you, or him, or something else, he’s not sure, but the subtle fold of Minghao’s eyelids tells Soonyoung this is about more than just calling out idiocy. “And I think sooner will hurt less.”
Soonyoung knows he’s right. But he doesn’t like it.
Before he can come up with a rebuttal, though, Minghao’s hands are on Soonyoung’s shoulders, and he’s pushing him out of the row of bookshelves and straight towards your table.
“You can do it, Soonyoung, just rip the band-aid while you still can,” he whispers in Soonyoung’s ear right before one last push at his back.
Soonyoung stumbles a bit, but once he regains his footing, Minghao’s already gone and you’ve already noticed the ruckus. You pull one earbud out with a bright smile. It’s so jovial that Soonyoung almost forgets why he’s here.
“Hi Soonyoung, I didn’t see you come in,” you say, and there’s no way you’re this energized just from studying in a library.
“Uh... hi.”
“You’ve actually got the perfect timing.” Waving to him, you gesture for him to sit next to you, and he does. You pull out some sort of planner, opening it to a few months from now. “I wanted to ask when exactly your showcase is? Seungkwan’s no help at all because he only cares about his concerts and stuff. Honestly, there aren’t that many...”
You’re going to have to say something sooner or later.
Soonyoung picks later.
•
“So when are you gonna ask her out?”
Jihoon stands in front of the stove, watching his hot water simmer, a bag of dry ramen in one hand and long cooking chopsticks in the other. It’s Soonyoung’s turn to make dinner tonight, but since he says he isn’t hungry, Jihoon’s scrounging it out himself.
Soonyoung, on the other hand, sits at their tiny dinner table, his forehead pressed to the cool surface, arms hanging limp at his sides. He mumbles something of a response, but it’s nothing more than a questioning grunt, if anything.
“Oh, you know.” Even when Jihoon says your name, Soonyoung stays still. “Only the girl you’ve been on several “dates” with ever since you confessed to her at Seungcheol’s party. When are you gonna ask her on a real date?”
Tired, Soonyoung groans. “When the time is right, I guess.”
•
You work on campus. It’s some part-time job you don’t care about enough to even complain over, despite the fact that you have to deal with annoying university kids every day. Soonyoung finds this out when he has coffee with Minghao in one of the buildings he doesn’t normally frequent, and only goes to today since Minghao has a class nearby in the next hour.
The coffee isn’t great, and it’s too expensive, but Soonyoung drinks it anyways. He much prefers the coffee from the cafe he goes to with you. Because the coffee is better. Obviously.
He hears your voice first, words indiscernible with distance and overshadowed by a much louder, angrier one, but still. Minghao sees you first, though, and he points past Soonyoung to the student printing center, where you’re standing behind the counter and arguing with some guy. You don’t seem too riled, but Soonyoung can tell you want to be anywhere but there, especially when the angry guy’s voice keeps getting louder and louder.
Soonyoung’s feet bring him over before his brain can register what to do. You haven’t seen him yet, he could just walk away, but he doesn’t. Your voice becomes clearer as he approaches.
“Listen, the printing center is for education, art, or business. I can’t print this for you.”
The guy goes off about personal freedoms or whatever, Soonyoung isn’t really listening.
“No, I get that this is a student printing center, but I really don’t think your big tiddie anime gf poster has anything to do with education, art, or business.”
And that’s when the guy grabs your arm. Which results in Soonyoung grabbing his arm. Which results in the accusatory question, “What are you, her boyfriend or something?”
Now, in a perfect story, this would be the first time Soonyoung meets you. Or maybe you’ve been close friends for a while. And this would be when Soonyoung says that, yes, he is your boyfriend, and he would save the day. Except you’d be all “why would you do that?” which would result in you both having to fake date to keep that guy off your back. In this perfect story, there would be no Sehee to like and no Minghao to judge, just you and Soonyoung fake dating. Eventually, you’d both catch real feelings instead of fake ones, and then boom, happily ever after.
But this isn’t a perfect story.
Soonyoung still says yes, and the guy still backs off. In reality though, because Soonyoung never thinks before he lies, you momentarily duck behind the counter and bring a hand up to your face to cover your ever-brightening smile. In reality, Sehee still exists at the forefront of his mind every dance practice, even though you’re the one he just promptly claimed to be the boyfriend of. In reality, Minghao watches from a little ways away, sipping his coffee and shaking his head in what can only be called disappointment.
Soonyoung’s never been good at lying. One would think he’d stop by now.
•
So, it’s official.
You’ve put a heart next to his contact name. He’s put one next to yours — red, because he doesn’t know your favourite colour. Seungkwan’s done the whole if you break my friend’s heart I break you spiel and Soonyoung finally realizes he’s in too deep.
It's almost too natural, how easily you bring him into your life and how easily he finds himself fitting. It's all so wrong.
Soonyoung feels like an imposter, like there's someone meant to be by your side, but it's not him.
You pluck up the courage one day to hold his hand, and he can't pull away because the lies tying him to you are too strong. The small bluffs he's spun have weaved themselves into a net he's tangled himself in.
His dance crew congratulates him when Jun spills the news. It's all mundane, really — dating in university isn't all that uncommon. Mostly, Soonyoung gets casual "you go, dude" comments or the like, but then Sehee says nothing. She smiles, and it has to be one of the most tragically beautiful things Soonyoung's ever seen. His heart fractures, just a little, and he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to fix it.
He smiles it off. Tries to, anyways.
Chan complains that Soonyoung's too harsh that day.
•
Jihoon likes you.
Not in a "Mister Steal Yo' Girl" way, but he laughed at one of your jokes the first time you came over to Soonyoung's apartment, and ever since then, he's been convinced.
"You must feel like the luckiest guy on earth with her around," Jihoon says once you leave for the night.
Soonyoung has no idea how to tell him he's felt nothing but unlucky these past few weeks, so he doesn't.
•
He polishes up on his acting. As awful as it is to think, Soonyoung has gotten really, really good.
His smile looks genuine. It has to — he shows it to Minghao, who says it's "adequate," which basically means perfect to the lowly humans beneath him.
He's gotten good at responding to you too, copying how the male leads do it in dramas and movies. It's sort of easy.
He hates how easy it is.
Soon enough, you try befriending the whole group. Being Seungkwan's friend, you've always wanted to, but apparently this is the push you needed. The boys are quick to warm up to you because, as Soonyoung's new girlfriend, you're now a new teasing target besides Chan. The youngest was always the brunt until you came along.
You say you don't mind — that his friends are amazing despite all the jokes and chaos. He believes you.
Minghao keeps his distance, saying he doesn't want to get himself involved. He's still the only one to know the truth, and his judging stare only grows worse as the days pass. Soonyoung wants so badly to make it go away, but he knows the only way to do that would be to tell you the truth, and he's just not ready.
Soonyoung's never broken a heart before. He's never planned on it.
Sometimes life makes its own plans.
"My shift got moved to tomorrow," you tell him when he picks you up from class, one hand in his and the other in your pocket. He knows it means something, but he doesn't know what. Your lips purse into a line as you stare at your shoes. “I was thinking... could I come watch your dance practice? If that’s okay?”
Now, Soonyoung loves dancing. He loves dance. He loves to dance. Performing sends an unparalleled thrill rushing through his veins like the solar system hurtling through the universe, and it’s something he’s never felt doing anything else. Dancing with others is a beautiful connection, an emission of silent truths communicated through the body. Practice, however, is the dirty version of dance. It has to be built up first — polished. Which is why Soonyoung says what he says. He doesn’t even think it over.
“No.”
It’s what he says every time someone asks. He doesn’t invite people to practices — never has. Even after his prompt refusal, he doesn’t register his mistake until the light in your eyes wavers. It doesn't disappear — just ripples. Comes back weaker than before.
"Oh," you say. The word should sound dejected but it doesn't. There's a smile at your lips, and Soonyoung can't help but think it looks kind of like his. "That's— that's okay! I was just — I don't know, I guess I just thought... I wanted to..."
Meeting his gaze, you look at him with shaking eyes, almost as if it takes great strength to keep them on his. He tries to backpedal, but you continue.
"I'll be going home then. I've got an assignment due soon anyways, so..." You pull your hand from his grip and, from where you two were walking toward the fine arts building, turn the opposite way. Your dorm is on the other side of campus. "See you tomorrow, Soonyoung. Have fun at practice."
Something about your smile haunts him.
It's hollow; feels empty when you flash it at him before going. He thinks fake smiles all look like that — insincere. His smiles at you must be the same way.
For an awful moment, he's hopeful. Maybe this will be the trigger. Maybe you'll end this tonight — whatever "this" is that Soonyoung has with you. Maybe he won't have to tell any harsh truths at all.
He turns and walks to practice.
The routine feels lighter tonight, though Soonyoung can’t pinpoint why. His body almost floats, and while that sounds good, it’s not. The rhythm is off. He’s not landing when he should be.
His crew notices, especially Chan, who complains that Soonyoung’s too much of a cocksure choreographer to be making repeated mistakes like this. They tell him maybe everyone should take a break. He agrees, but only because he’s frustrated — and he shouldn’t channel his anger into dance. Not this one, at least.
Everyone spreads throughout the studios to the edges, where they lean their body weight on the walls and slide down, water bottles in hand. The room reeks of sweat and feet, but Soonyoung’s used to it by now. He guzzles down half of his water in one go and pulls out his phone.
[❤] Sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to react all... cold? Seungkwan told me you never invite anyone to practice, so it makes total sense why you said no
[❤] If I’m ever crossing any boundaries, let me know, okay?
Of course you’d be understanding. Soonyoung wouldn’t be that lucky.
He tosses his phone haphazardly in his bag, groaning and throwing his head back so it hits the wall with a dampened thud. The pain is dull compared to the thoughts top-spinning in his mind.
Across the studio, Minghao clears his throat, raising an eyebrow at Soonyoung when he opens his eyes to look at him. It only takes two reluctant nods for Minghao to understand the source of Soonyoung’s groans, and he does nothing to react but look away. Soonyoung thinks that’s almost worse than the judging eyes. At least at that point Minghao thought he was something other than a lost cause.
He doesn’t text you back. By the time he thinks of something a boyfriend would say, the time to say it has passed.
•
How much longer is he going to let this go on?
Soonyoung wonders that to himself as he sits, returned to Seungcheol's apartment for another one of his "getties" as people are so apt to call them. He's never understood the difference between a getty and a party, and he's always been too stubborn to ask, knowing he'd be mercilessly made fun of for not knowing something apparently all university students knew.
This one isn't so different from the last. More or less the same crowd, the same atmosphere as the night goes on. Only this time, when everyone's settled down in what can hardly be called a circle, Soonyoung's on the couch, sunken into the too-old cushions with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. You're far from your last claimed spot with Seungkwan on that ratty old beanbag chair, sitting comfortably under Soonyoung's arm with a plastic cup of whatever Jeonghan concocted for you — which you've yet to drink much of.
Sehee sits across from you both while she laughs at something Wonwoo says. You laugh too, but Soonyoung barely notices, eyes glued to the girl they've been stuck on since she joined his dance crew over a year ago. He wants to tell her how beautiful she is when she smiles, even under the light of Seungcheol's dingy apartment, but he can't. He wants to tell her how he's felt for months, but you're next to him. He wants to have a fucking drink but all he has in his cup is fucking iced green tea because he knows if he drinks he'll fuck up again.
Just like last time.
"You okay?" you whisper in his ear at one point.
He turns to see your concerned expression, and it only makes Soonyoung hate this even more. He doesn't deserve your concern.
"I'm fine."
But he's not fine.
He doesn't participate in much conversation — only speaks when spoken to, and even then with few words. You seem to become tense next to him, but he does nothing to try and fix it. Just tonight, he's going to let himself be tired.
Three times, you offer to leave, and all three he refuses. You give up eventually, though he can tell you know something's off. God, if he were drunk, he wouldn't even have to think about you for a whole night.
Somehow the topic of discussion turns to couples, and suddenly, an entire room of eyes is on you and Soonyoung. He barely catches the question before you're already pondering your answer.
What do the two lovebirds love most about each other?
You look at him. At him, at him. He feels your stare in the dip of his throat because he can't seem to swallow anymore. It's like his soul is being scanned for viruses.
"Hmm..." You let your chin fall into your palm with a smile. It's real. Too real. "I like his resolve," you finally say. "If he wants to do something, he does it." With a loud exhale through your nose, you tilt your head, still meeting his eyes with your own. Soonyoung's mouth slightly parts, slack with something he can't name. "I could learn a thing or two from him."
The room bristles with your answer, various response piping up around. Soonyoung sort of registers Chan saying, "That's cute. I wanna vomit," but he's too busy thinking about you, about how you've come to like something about him as deep as that when all he's done is pretend to even like you at all.
And even when his mind swims with that, Sehee asks again.
"Then Soonyoung, what do you like about her?"
It sort of hurts. Soonyoung's not afraid to admit to himself that hearing Sehee ask what he likes about you sends pain straight through his ears to his heart. There's an awkward pause and everyone's looking at him expectantly and, god, he wishes he stole your drink when he had the chance.
"I..." His throat goes dry. His lips part, but there aren't any words to slip past them. "I, um..." He looks to you, and your eyes speak volumes. Everyone else in this room has a sort of... hungry look. They want to know Soonyoung's answer for one reason or another, maybe to tease with or to ridicule or even wish for themselves. But you, your eyes meet his and he knows you're not expecting anything. That hurts too. He doesn't know why. But even then, he can't think of the words. Any words. He steals a glance at Sehee, whose expression is curious, doe eyes slightly giddy from alcohol. She's pretty.
"I like her laugh," he says. It's not about you. "Whenever she laughs, I think to myself, 'What I wouldn't give to see her laugh again'."
Your eyes move to the plastic cup you've got gripped between two hands in your lap, and Seungkwan points out your flustered state to the entire room despite the fact everyone can see it as long as they've got working eyes. You purse your lips together to contain a smile, but it doesn't work. Even Soonyoung can see that.
He needs a drink.
Having to go to the bathroom is a lousy excuse, and Soonyoung knows it, but he whispers that in your ear anyways and retracts his arm from your shoulder before escaping. He does go to the bathroom, a small thing with a shower and no bath, but all he does in there is stare at himself in the mirror. And when that becomes too much, his feet.
Someone else eventually has to use the bathroom for its actual purpose, so he opens it to the banging fist outside and slides past the person back into the hallway. He pauses before walking all the way back. You're caught up in some other conversation now, laughing and dramatically waving your hands as you deny some crazy embarrassing story Seungkwan's trying to spill about you. Seems you've already integrated yourself with his friends more than he thought.
Since your attention is occupied, Soonyoung instead ducks into the half-kitchen — not necessarily out of sight, but no one's really paying attention anyways. He knows he shouldn't take any chances, but he really, really wants to let go. He's been wearing a facade ever since he said your name that night.
"I wouldn't, if I were you."
Minghao's voice has Soonyoung jerking up and banging his head on the door of the open fridge he was rummaging through. He winces in pain, kneading his fingers into his scalp as if that will do anything.
"Wouldn't what?" he snaps.
"I dunno." Minghao shrugs, and it's almost infuriating how nonchalant he is. "Do something you might regret, I guess."
He takes the yet unopened bottle from Soonyoung's hands, reaching beyond him to put it back in place. There's no point in fighting against him since he's undeniably right, but Soonyoung grumbles anyways. His eyes glance every few seconds to you on the couch. If you happen to hear anything...
Well, he doesn't know exactly. But he doesn't want to find out.
"You have to end it."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I just—" Soonyoung takes in a breath, too loud for his liking. He lowers his voice. "I can't, okay? I don't want to hurt her."
"So you're just going to date her based on false pretenses because you're too much of a coward to admit your mistakes?" Voice laced with sharpness, Minghao places his palms flat on the counter.
Soonyoung takes a deep breath through his nose, lips twisting in frustration. "Yeah, okay? Yeah," he whispers. "That's exactly what I'm gonna do."
A second passes. Minghao's brow furrows.
"And quite frankly," Soonyoung continues, "I'd rather you keep your nosy ass out of my business from now on."
He nearly storms off right then with the last word, but Minghao's fingers around his elbow stop him.
"You're going to get yourself hurt," Minghao warns through his teeth. He nods towards you. "And her in the process."
"We'll see about that."
Soonyoung has acted on impulse before. It happened with the pigeon, it happened with your name, and it's happening right now. Nothing is compelling him other than the absolute need to prove Minghao wrong, and even then, he doesn't know why.
He sits back down next to you, his spot saved by some miracle considering the surrounding company. The look on your face is happy, jovial. You must be having a right old time. His nerves strike with a feeling he's never quite experienced before.
When you study his face, no doubt not nearly as cheerful as yours, the expression you held falters to worry.
"You okay?" is once again the question on your lips, quiet, meant for his ears only.
Impulse is a scary thing. Soonyoung hates it almost as much as lying.
He leans in, crashing his lips on yours with his eyes half closed. His lips move and yours don't. Soonyoung can't even be sure you've closed your eyes, but at this very moment, he doesn't care. All he knows is he's angry and Minghao is watching.
This isn’t your first kiss — he knows because you’ve talked to him about this very topic. This is, however, to your understanding, the first “real” relationship you’ve ever been in. You told him yourself that you don’t really count that past kiss as your first, that you felt a bit... violated when it happened.
Soonyoung thinks this isn’t all too different.
He steals your second first kiss, and later, staring at the water-stained stucco ceiling of his bedroom, he kicks himself so hard it hurts.
•
You show up to movie night. Apparently Jihoon invited you — explained it like this:
“You won’t have to be so clingy with me if she’s here.”
At first, Soonyoung thinks Jihoon just wants to drop their roommate movie nights because he’s always complained about them, but Jihoon sticks around during Anastasia; sings along with you during Once Upon a December despite the fact that neither of you really know the words. He sits right in front of you two on the couch, cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, that of which he only offers to you twice and Soonyoung once.
Whatever. You’re a better cuddler than Jihoon anyway.
Somehow it doesn’t feel forced when you lean your head on Soonyoung’s shoulder, or when he wraps his arm around your waist to get comfortable. He blames it on how tired he is, how he always gets on movie night after a week of classes and practices and too much work for one person to handle. Jihoon complains all the time that he’s too touchy when tired.
You absentmindedly play with his fingers for most of the movie. He doesn’t mind.
It’s been about a month now.
Soonyoung doesn’t kiss you again after the first time. Doesn’t stop you, either, but you’re more of an on-the-cheek kind of person. He thinks you think he wants to take this slow, even though he initiated the first big step (as convoluted as it was). He lets you think what you want.
Nasty business, it is.
Cleaning a bowl that once held popcorn. All the grease that sticks to the side because Jihoon likes to use too much butter. All the grains of salt that get underneath Soonyoung’s fingernails. He’s washing, Jihoon’s drying. It’s an arrangement of sorts.
You’ve already left for the night, gone back to your dorm since it’s only a five minute walk or so through campus. Jihoon insisted on Soonyoung escorting you, but you only smiled sweetly and refused. Maybe Soonyoung should’ve argued harder against you. He didn’t though. That’s why he’s scrubbing a bit too harshly now — he doesn’t like messing up.
Seems that’s all he’s good for lately.
“You’re unhappy.”
Soonyoung stops scrubbing. The only noise in the whole apartment is the slow gurgle of the sink because even with a plug, such an old thing just lets the hot water seep away as the seconds go by. Jihoon’s gaze is on the pan he’s drying, but Soonyoung knows his heart is in the question. It always is.
“I’m not,” he tries to deny, but it’s difficult to fool a person like Jihoon. (Especially since Soonyoung can’t even convince himself.)
The non-stick pan from yesterday’s dinner clangs against an older one when Jihoon puts it away. He looks at Soonyoung, but by then he’s turned back to washing the popcorn bowl, so their eyes don’t end up meeting.
“I’ve known you since tenth grade. You think I can’t tell when you’re upset?”
Soonyoung finds it hard to read Jihoon’s feelings most of the time. He didn’t realize he was such an open book the other way around.
Sighing, he continues to scrub the bowl, which has probably been clean for a minute already. “I’m just... stressed.”
“About?”
Minghao already knows; already thinks lowly of Soonyoung for it. If Jihoon knew... Soonyoung doesn’t know if he can take that.
So he lies. Again.
“Just the dance showcase.”
It isn’t a whole lie, not really, but he can’t call it the truth either.
Jihoon takes the bowl from Soonyoung’s grasp and rinses it under the tap. Since that’s the last dish, Soonyoung is stuck with nothing for his hands to do. They rest on the edge of the sink, but his fingers ache for a task.
Jihoon, the friend that he is, says, “That’s not for three months, though. I’m sure you’ll be perfect by then.”
“I don’t know...”
“Well I do.” Eyes meet eyes, a pair determined, a pair apprehensive. “Everything will work out.”
“...Okay.”
•
Soonyoung measures time in terms of you now.
When he last texted you. When he last saw you. When he last spoke to you.
It’s all a very elaborate calculation — how much time he’s spent on you versus how much time he should spend on you. No relationship is quite like this one, he thinks, and it’s quite the romantic notion out of context. The fact remains, every interaction he has with you only pulls him further and deeper into his lie.
Soonyoung’s time moves a bit slower now.
Faster, sometimes, but only when he doesn’t want it to.
•
You tell him you might be in love with him.
He says he might be in love with you.
He’s never hated lying more.
•
Jihoon is cleaning out the fridge when the buzzer goes off, so since he’s close by, he picks up the old corded phone attached to the wall. From his spot on the couch, Soonyoung looks up from his phone to see Jihoon cover the receiver and mouth your name. Jihoon makes some sort of gesture with his hands, and somehow Soonyoung understands that as, were you expecting her?
His eyes widen as it settles in that no, he’s not expecting you. The apartment is a mess.
Jihoon buzzes you in, hangs up, and immediately moves from the fridge to the coffee table, throwing the laundry he was planning on folding back in the plastic hamper and shoving the pile in Soonyoung’s lap.
“Take care of this,” he says. “I’ll clear up the kitchen.”
Right. Can’t have you thinking your boyfriend and his roommate are slobs.
Soonyoung reacts quickly, standing from his spot on the couch with the laundry basket in hand. He dashes to his room, where he plans to stuff the laundry in his closet and save that problem for later, but once he gets there, he realizes his room is even worse. There are dirty clothes dispersed all over his bed and old coffee cups littering his desk. Scrambling to shove the new laundry in his closet, the dirty clothes in the now empty hamper, and gather all the paper cups in his arms, Soonyoung’s breath starts to catch.
When he emerges from his room with two armfuls of garbage, he finds you at the door with Jihoon, your face hidden in his shoulder and your arms wrapped tight around his waist. Jihoon’s arms are up, almost like he’s being held at gunpoint, and his eyes widen even further when he catches sight of Soonyoung.
“Uhh... it’s for you.”
Soonyoung can hear your quiet hiccups even though they’re muffled in Jihoon’s shirt. He can’t bear it when people cry.
Yeah, maybe he’s been pretending to like you for a long time now, but he’s not a monster.
Right?
He likes you as a person. As a friend. And there’s no way he’s letting his friend go through pain like this.
Soonyoung swiftly discards his trash into the garbage bin and approaches you and Jihoon. At the commotion, you lift your head from Jihoon’s shoulder, eyes all red and puffy. Your lips press together, emotions nearly bursting at the seams, but they finally break out when Soonyoung opens his arms wide.
“C’mere.”
You practically flail into his embrace, arms wrapping around his torso in a vice grip as you hide your face again. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay — he knows you’re not.
Jihoon stands in the doorway for a few seconds, just looking at you and Soonyoung clutching at each other in the middle of the apartment before he shuts the front door and clears his throat.
“I’ll just, uh, I’ll be — um. Mhm. Yup.”
He escapes to his room.
Soonyoung squishes his cheek to your temple as you both stay there. You’re shaking, and his arms squeeze tighter. If only he could make it stop. He doesn’t know what to say or do to make you feel better.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, though quiet and hesitant.
You shake your head, mumbling something he can’t quite make out. He pulls back a bit, just enough to see your face and gently cup your cheeks in his palms. His thumbs rub at your cheeks, smoothing any stray tears across your skin.
“What’s that?”
“Just...” Your eyes glisten. His heart beats. “Could you please just hold me?”
And he does.
Decidedly, his bed is much more comfortable than standing in the living room, so he sways, rocking side to side with small steps that force you to walk backwards. His smile, though, is reassuring, and you follow his guidance without much complaint. He sits you down on his bed, thankful that he cleaned up beforehand, and slowly leans you down so you’re both on your sides, facing each other. Pulling you closer, he lets you rest your head on his chest. Your hand lies flat on top of him, but eventually your fingers curl, clutching a bit of Soonyoung’s shirt between them. Silent tears fall from your eyes to his chest, but he doesn’t care.
His arm underneath you wraps around, hand landing on your back so his thumb can rub soothing circles.
It’s quiet.
Funny. Soonyoung used to dislike silence with you — always felt the need to fill it with conversation or jokes or laughter. He wonders when it was last since he felt that way.
Soonyoung doesn’t know how much time passes. His eyes stick to his bedroom ceiling as he holds you close, thoughts on everything and nothing all at once. Are you asleep? Your tears stopped some time ago.
His question is answered when your voice, small and unsure, breaks the long-standing silence.
“Soonyoung?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I tell you about it?”
He cranes his neck to look at you, but it doesn’t really work. “Of course,” he says. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?”
You sigh. “I don’t know. I just... I don’t want to be a burden.”
“You’re not.”
“I know, but—”
“You’re not.”
You look up at him finally, and seeing your smile sends warmth through his blood. Your face is still looks wrecked from tears gone by, but your smile pushes all that out of the way.
“Thank you,” comes past your lips in a whisper. Then, after a moment of waiting, you say, “It’s just that... I... this — ugh.” You hide your face in his shirt again. “This is so embarrassing. I don’t even know why I got so worked up.”
Soonyoung doesn’t respond to that, just pats your back a few times and encourages you to keep going. You toy with the fabric of his shirt.
“This guy I used to know — I thought I’d never see him again, but he showed up today. Ran into him when I was walking back from the convenience store.” You bite the inside of your lip. “I haven’t thought about him in a long time, but, I don’t know, I guess seeing him just brought all these memories back all at once.”
“Bad ones?”
A breathy laugh escapes you. “Sure, you could say that.”
The silence comes back, and your brows furrow, almost like you’re trying to solve the problem all on your own. But you don’t have to. Soonyoung is here.
“Do you remember when I told you about my first kiss? Like, my real first kiss?”
Soonyoung hums. Of course he remembers.
“Back in high school, I used to have this friend. Sammy. She was — god, she was beautiful. And kind, and smart, and just... amazing. I miss her a lot. She’s abroad now, travelling the world with her sister. I think she’s in Peru now.” You chuckle at the mention of your old friend, but soon your smile twists into a frown. “This guy... I don’t like saying his name, but he liked Sammy. Everyone did, I don’t blame him for that, honestly. He was pretty popular back then — one of those sports boys, you know? Thinking about it now, he could’ve easily gotten with Sammy if he hadn’t been so conniving.”
“Conniving?”
“Yeah, he was... I don’t know how he got the idea in his head, but he came to me first. He kept hanging out with me, taking me on these... dates? But they weren’t really dates, all we did was talk about Sammy — what she liked, what she didn’t like. I knew he was using me, but I just... let him, I guess. Maybe back then I was just so caught up in being needed that I didn’t really mind being used.”
Soonyoung hugs you tighter.
“I guess he felt sorry, maybe? Right before he went to go ask Sammy out, he just... laid one on me. It was stupid. Like a pity kiss for my service or whatever. I wasn’t in love with the guy or anything, but it felt so... degrading. Like all I deserved was some action from a conventionally good-looking guy."
Your tears come back, brimming at the edge of your eyelids.
“I don’t know, it just — it just made me feel so...”
You take a breath. Exhale.
“...worthless.”
Soonyoung doesn’t fail to see the irony here, at least, but he feels slightly lifted. Whoever this guy is, Soonyoung’s a million times better.
“You’re not worthless,” he says — because he knows it’s true.
“I know.” You readjust yourself curled around him, wiping away the tears which haven’t fallen. “I mean, I know now.” Sighing, you wrap your arm around his waist, somehow pulling him closer than he already was. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here. For being you. For letting me be me.”
“It is my absolute pleasure to serve you, your majesty.”
You wack him with the sleeve of your sweater. “You’re such a dork!”
Your laugh is nice. Soonyoung hopes to hear it again soon.
“You know,” you say, eyes closed as you lie there with him on his bed. “Normally I would’ve gone to Seungkwan with my problems, but tonight...”
“Tonight?”
“You make me feel safe, Soonyoung. Thank you.”
His eyes close. “Really?”
“Yeah,” you breathe out. “That, and if I told Seungkwan, he would’ve found the guy and beat him to a pulp.”
“Why can I see that?”
“Because it’s true.”
You stay the night.
•
With a group of friends as big as Soonyoung’s, it’s about once every blue moon that the boys find a time that works for everyone, especially coming up on finals season. They all have their own worries around this time: the dance showcase, the big play, last-minute assessments, and — of course — finals.
So when they’re all free for barbecue one night, everyone’s ecstatic. Reservations are made, gratuities are calculated, and the group chat blows up every few hours with various changes to plans. (Mostly from Mingyu, who’s eager to show off his grilling skills.)
But of course, university is university, and it’s inevitable that someone has to bail out. That someone being Soonyoung.
The dance showcase creeps up a bit faster than anyone likes, and now Soonyoung’s professor is forcing him to choreograph an entire song for some freshmen only a month before the whole thing goes onstage.
First of all, who signs up for a showcase only four weeks before the performance? Who lets them sign up?
And second of all, doesn’t his professor realize Soonyoung has a life? He’s got other dances to work on, other classes to study for, friends to have barbecue with. How is he supposed to cram an entire choreography — not the mention the time it’ll take to teach the freshmen — into his already hectic lifestyle?
But Soonyoung is a people-pleaser. He doesn’t say no.
Instead, he regretfully messages the group chat, saying he can’t hang out tonight in favour of attempting to choreograph at least a quarter of the song in one sitting. He gets the usual whining, but they all know they can’t change his mind, so it fades out fast.
What he doesn’t expect is for them to invite you instead.
“It’s a thirteen person reservation,” Seungcheol reasons. “Besides, she’s basically one of us by now.”
Soonyoung can’t exactly argue with that.
So, you go to the restaurant with them while Soonyoung heads to the studio. Minghao picks you up along with Vernon and Chan, which sends an anxious bit of worry down Soonyoung’s spine, but he does nothing about it. If Minghao wanted to tell you, he would’ve by now.
You send him a good luck text.
[🍥] Don’t let those kids work you into the ground!
He stares at your words for a bit, distracted from finding the song he’s supposed to use. Your contact name is different now — one of those naruto fishcakes because of that time you took him out for ramen. That night had been full of laughter and loud, borderline obnoxious slurping, ending with the beautiful finale of Soonyoung throwing a fishcake straight into your open mouth.
You were the one that sweet-talked you both out of getting banned.
Soonyoung finally opens his music app and finds the song the freshmen requested (a rather boring one, if you ask him) which he sets to max volume. He doesn’t bother plugging his phone into the speaker system, not when he’s the only one in the studio.
Maybe he can do this.
•
“The trick is to add eggs and use less water,” you say as you scoop more batter onto the waffle iron.
Jihoon snorts from where he sits at the table, still shoveling more whipped cream and strawberry-smothered waffle in his mouth. “Are you sure the trick isn’t to just not be Soonyoung?”
“Hey!” Soonyoung pauses his own eating just to pout. “My waffles are good!”
“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”
Both you and Jihoon laugh at Soonyoung’s expense, only further accentuating the pout on his face. You and Jihoon are too alike in that aspect. Well, actually, Soonyoung knows you’d never laugh at him, but he still can’t be sure about Jihoon. One time, back in high school, Soonyoung tripped over (what he thought was) a dead bird, and Jihoon laughed for hours — though Soonyoung always exaggerates the story into him laughing for days.
You sit down next to him with your own plate of waffles. There’s flour dusted on your arms, but you don’t seem to mind.
“You’ve got a little...” You point a finger at the corner of your mouth.
He knows. Soonyoung can feel the cool whipped cream right where you say it is.
He smiles wide. “I’m saving it for later.”
“Hmm...”
You say nothing, just smile as you lean in, kissing the corner of his lips. It’s quick, chaste, and barely a real kiss, but Soonyoung’s heart bounces in his chest. He’s never been kissed like that before.
He wonders if this is what it’s like to be loved.
That thought, though, he pushes back for another time.
“Gross. You guys made me lose my appetite,” Jihoon says. He keeps eating.
•
With eyes drooping shut every few seconds, Soonyoung decides it’s time to call it quits on the chemistry homework. It’s nearly one in the morning, anyways. He flips his textbooks shut and gathers up all his notes, putting them all in a haphazard pile that he’ll worry about in the morning. Swivelling in his chair, his eyes land on you.
Oh. He forgot you’re here.
You’re snuggled up on top of his covers, one arm wrapped around the pillow your head should be on, eyes closed as even, slow breaths come past your slightly parted lips. One of his hoodies is draped over your legs like a blanket. He wonders why you didn’t just get under the covers.
Well, he has been walking you home ever since he hadn’t some time ago. Maybe you were waiting.
He feels a bit guilty as he brushes his teeth and washes his face, but not too bad since you only have afternoon classes tomorrow. Maybe he can treat you to something in the morning to make up for it.
After he tucks you under a fluffy throw blanket, he crawls into bed and lies on his side, facing you.
Your other hand is lax, palm up and fingers curled, almost like you’re holding something invisible.
His hand would fit perfectly.
The tips of his fingers graze over the lines on your palm. Slow. Trepidatious.
You shift, fingers unconsciously curling around Soonyoung’s hand.
He closes his eyes.
•
The moves aren’t working.
The moves aren’t working and the music isn’t working and the dance isn’t working and nothing is working.
Soonyoung groans in frustration, almost screaming with his fingers threaded through his damp hair as he messes up yet another landing. He’s drenched in sweat, and it’s only been so many hours since the rest of the crew left for the night, not that he’s kept track.
It’s less than a week until the showcase. Six days, as Chan is apt to remind everyone with his stupid holiday countdown app.
That freshmen choreography is already over and done with — Soonyoung’s made it, he’s taught it to those over-eager nuisances, and if they need anything more, that’s on them. They’re no longer his responsibility.
That’s not what has him in such a state right now.
His solo — the one he’s been planning for the entire semester — it just doesn’t... feel right. He’s been slaving over it for days now, reworking the steps, figuring out what to take out and what to replace. But the more he fixes it, the more it feels wrong.
He can’t get the steps right. He can’t get anything right.
What is wrong with him?
He starts the music again at exactly one minute, thirty-eight seconds. The moves are clear in his mind. One step. Two steps. Sweep. Spin. Jump—
He falls.
The music goes on.
Soonyoung slams his fist onto the softwood floor, cursing at his ineptitude. He stays like that for a moment, eyes screwed shut and fists clenched so tight his nails dig into his palms. The song ends, only to restart again, but Soonyoung barely notices.
Screw the music. He stands; positions himself; tries again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
He falls.
He yells out at the floor, at his feet, at whatever is holding him back.
His reflection in the mirror stares back at him.
Mind blank, he sits there, legs stretched out in front of him as he hunches over, eyes closed to the world around. His breaths come out shaky and uneven, but even though every moment sitting still feels like eternity, his lungs fail to calm.
Someone knocks on the door, and for a second, Soonyoung thinks it’s Jun coming to tell him to go home for the night. He doesn’t want to, so he doesn’t look up.
The door opens, he can hear the quiet shuffling of hesitant feet that have removed their shoes just because the sign on the door told them to.
“Soonyoung?”
Your voice is clear — like a single drop of water coalescing into a whole — and it cuts through the sound of blood rushing past Soonyoung’s ears.
He looks up to see you standing a good length away, almost like you’re scared to approach. You’re wearing pyjamas, a thick sweater pulled over your shoulders and fuzzy socks donning your feet. Something bulges from the pocket of your sweater.
“What are you...”
“Minghao called me.”
In the back of his mind, a small part of Soonyoung wonders exactly when you and Minghao have gotten close enough to call each other, but the thought doesn’t stay for long. It can’t, really, not when you’re in front of him.
When Soonyoung says nothing more, you take another step forward. “What’s wrong?”
To anyone else, he might say nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong.
His voice breaks when he tries to laugh.
“Everything.”
Your eyes soften, a small smile tugging at your lips. It’s not one of those pitiful smiles, he can tell, but it’s not fake, either. You bring your hands together in front of you, fiddling with the tips of your fingers as your eyes move from them to his gaze again. “I’m coming over. Is that okay?”
He nods.
First, you find his phone and turn down the music until it’s gone. You sit right behind him, legs spread on either side of his body, and you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing flush to his back and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades. He squirms a bit.
“I’m all sweaty,” he tries to argue, but you only squeeze him tighter.
“Yeah, you are.”
He stops resisting. It’s much too hot, what with his hours of constant exercise and your thick layers, but he can’t complain.
“Do you want to talk about it?” This time it’s your turn to ask.
“...Just hold me?”
And you do.
You press a kiss to the back of his neck. Slow, soft, and when your lips leave his searing skin, your forehead replaces them.
That’s when the dam breaks.
Hot, fat tears roll from Soonyoung’s eyes down his cheeks as sobs rack through his chest. The vibrations shake him and you all at once, but your hold never falters. He can’t see anything, only a blur of what should be his legs and your arms wrapped around his stomach. His hands go to clutch at your arms, desperate to hold onto something; to not let him sink.
It’s ugly, the way he cries, but you let it happen. You hold him.
This is what it’s like.
Eventually, his desperate hands find yours, his arms crossed so his right is over your right, his left over your left. His fingers roam over the smooth backs of your hands until they reach your fingers and interlock. The palms of your hands are warm compared to his fingertips.
You’ve locked onto his body language by now — you’re fluent, so you know to continue pressing reassuring, slow kisses into his skin. You know to whisper little words that should mean nothing, but coming from your lips, mean everything.
He’s going to be okay.
For some reason, coming from you, he believes it.
You hold him until the hiccuping stops, until the tears are just dry streaks on his face, until his breath comes out in long streams instead of bursts.
His eyes stay shut as he feels you shift. One of your hands slips out of his grasp, your arm reaching back, and Soonyoung almost whines until he feels its return.
“Look,” you whisper.
It itches to open his eyes, but when he does, he sees what’s in your hand, right in front of him. A small stuffed tiger sits in your palm, positioned anatomically incorrect like a teddy bear, a velvet heart between its paws. Stitched white letters read:
Go get ‘em, tiger!
You chuckle lightly, repositioning yourself so your chin hooks over his shoulder. “Cheesy, I know. I was going to give this to you the day of the showcase, but I think you could use it right about now.”
Gingerly, Soonyoung lifts his hands together, and you place the plush in his awaiting palms.
His voice is slow to restart, but he manages to say, “Thank you.”
Hands now free, you wrap yourself around his waist again. “Anything for you.”
Such a simple sentence, that, and yet the confession sends blood to Soonyoung’s ears in the form of an awfully embarrassing blush. He runs his thumbs over the fuzzy fabric of the tiger plush.
“Soonyoung?”
“Hm?”
You press your lips to the crook of his shoulder, voice muffled in the fabric of his shirt. “I won’t force you to stop practicing. I know this is important to you.” Soonyoung feels your breath fan over his skin. “But I also want you to rest — you shouldn’t overwork yourself.”
One of your hands rises to his chin, guiding it up so he looks forward at the studio mirror and meets your gaze in the reflection.
“Whaddya say we do, hm?” You tilt your head, and Soonyoung thinks his pupils may be heart-shaped. “Do you want to practice more? Or can I take you home?”
“Just...” He swallows what’s left in his dry mouth. “Just once more.”
You smile. “Okay.”
As you get up, you run your hands up to Soonyoung’s shoulder and down to his hand, where you playfully pretend to pull him up with you. He laughs, hiding his face behind the tiger plush for a second before he stands, tugging your hands as he does so you fall into him when he rights himself. Both your hands are squeezed between him and you, while his unoccupied arm finds its way to your side.
Another smile tugs at your lips at the proximity. You shift your hands up so they wrap over his shoulders, linking behind his head. Leaning closer, your eyes gleam under the fluorescent lights. To the sound of silence, you sway together, waltzing in the dead of night.
“I’ll be outside, okay?”
Soonyoung’s expression tightens, eyebrows shifting in confusion. “Why?”
“Well,” you say. “I know how you feel about audiences during practice.”
Something about your smile right now makes Soonyoung feel so undeniably safe. You understand him. Never once have you questioned him over why he doesn’t invite you to practices, never once did you pressure him to change that.
“Do you know how I feel about you?”
“Hmm, do I?”
Do you?
“Stay.”
And you do.
•
Here’s the thing about dance showcases:
They’re big, they’re flashy, they take the entire year to plan, and they’re over in one night.
Soonyoung stands in the wings, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, hopefully not loud enough for anyone to hear. He watches as the group performing before his solo finishes up their dance, though he knows there is at least a minute before he’ll have to go on.
A tap on his shoulder makes him turn his head, and he sees Sehee’s smiling face.
“Nervous?” she asks, her voice hidden beneath the music.
She’s all dolled up, dressed in her costume with a sleek leather jacket to bring everything together. Her eyes glimmer just as much as her eyelids.
“You have no idea,” Soonyoung jokes, but his heart isn’t really in it.
Sehee tilts her head; blinks a few times. “You’ll do amazing. You always do.”
For what it’s worth, Soonyoung hasn’t forgotten his attraction. Sehee’s words soothe him to some extent, pump him up, even. It’s slightly terrifying — how much she still affects him even now.
You’re in the audience tonight, third row from the front, somewhere in the middle. Your seat is between Seungkwan’s and Jihoon’s, whereas all the other boys came (almost) too late and had to find seats elsewhere.
The music ends, applause erupts, and Soonyoung knows it’s his turn. He waits for the group to exit on the opposite side, and when the resounding claps quiet down, he takes the first step onstage.
Something Soonyoung has almost always known: stage lights are blinding. If they’re set up right, anyone onstage will have a damn hard time seeing anyone in the audience. He can’t see you — couldn’t during his previous performance with the crew, either. The only reason he knows you’re there is the million assuring texts you sent him before you had to turn off your phone for the show.
But he knows you’re there. He knows you’re watching.
Soonyoung stands with his left foot on the spike mark, right where he’s practiced time and time again ever since they transitioned into the space. Music floods his veins, and the world is gone.
He wouldn’t call it an escape. Soonyoung doesn’t use dance to get away, it’s not like that. This world he creates with dance — this other space where nothing exists except him and the music and the floor and the feeling — he chooses to go there. Euphoria, he thinks it might be called. Euphoric.
The space takes him. He lets it.
And then it’s over.
Soonyoung’s breath leaves him in bursts, his shoulders heaving despite how hard he fights to keep them still in his final pose. His back faces the audience, his right arm stretched out and up, fingers curling around nothing. Stars dance before his eyes — which he fails to catch with his outstretched hand.
He thinks he can faintly hear applause, but it’s nothing compared to the heart beating in his chest. Your voice plays in his ears, yet he knows it’s simply his imagination — his recollection.
I like your dance, you’d said that night. I’m no expert, no judge, but I like it. I love it, honestly. Your dancing... I don’t know. I wish I had the words. It’s like... a little box.
A little box?
You’ve got a little box in your hand. Brown, maybe the size of your palm. You open it and there’s no bottom, no sides, no shape, just an expanse of universe in blues and pinks and purples and whatever colours we don’t know exist. You look inside and reach your hand in, somehow fitting in the tiny yet infinite space. Your fingers brush through starlight like strands of silk, like the rays are minnows you’ve met during a summer dip. Like that. A little box.
I thought you said you didn’t have the words?
I don’t. Not enough.
Soonyoung vaguely registers the lights going black, the way his feet drift him offstage, the music of the seniors’ finale.
At some point, the lights are back on. Not the stage lights, but the harsh fluorescents once the audience has fully filtered out into the lobby. Most of them will leave, but the family and friends of performers are sure to stay, waiting there to congratulate and fawn over the dancers as soon as they’re let go for the night. Somewhere in his mind, Soonyoung knows his friends are outside waiting for him — him, Jun, Minghao, and Chan.
Roses are passed around. He’s never seen a blue rose before, but some dancers walk around with them as they change out of costume and gather their things. He points out a yellow rose from the bunch presented to him, but it turns out to be a bouquet for him specifically, and he takes the whole thing with his jaw slightly hanging. Everything’s a bit... slow. Soonyoung feels like he’s wading through water.
He hasn’t changed yet, simply standing in his costume as he watches people go back and forth. Other performers move from dressing room to dressing room, cleaning up what they have to while simultaneously patting each other’s backs. Techs go around making sure everything’s in order, nothing lost or forgotten. They put away the MC’s microphones and bother the dancers for not taking proper care of props even though it’s only been one night.
Another tap on his shoulder; it’s Sehee again.
“Can I talk to you?” she asks.
He follows her to a corner of the stage, where the curtains hang and hide the two — for the most part.
She turns almost too abruptly, causing Soonyoung to stumble over his own two feet to avoid bumping into her.
“This is really hard for me to say,” she starts. “But I have to get it out.”
Soonyoung nods, maybe saying something close to a confirmation, but he can’t really tell. He’s a little lightheaded. Sehee has changed out of her leather, instead now in a pair of grey sweatpants and a simple t-shirt. That’s the thing about Sehee, though, she has that unnamed sort of... effortless beauty. Even with her stage makeup wiped off, she glows.
“This might be one of the last times I ever work with you, you know? Next year, my parents are making me quit dancing so I can focus on my major. It sucks, yeah, but they’re right. I need to focus if I want to succeed. You know that too, don’t you? The need to succeed?” She takes a breath; laughs bitterly. “Sorry, I’m getting off track... I just — I wanted to tell you this because if I don’t tonight, I might never get the chance again.”
Maybe Soonyoung has dreamed of this moment. He can’t be sure, not yet, so he lets her continue.
“I like you, Soonyoung. I have for a while. But things happened, and you got together with...” her voice trails off. “And you seemed happy, after a while. I thought maybe I could just keep it hidden but, I don’t know, I think I need to tell you, to get closure because I'm not sure if I can go on without at least—”
Choices. Soonyoung — and everyone else in the world — has only made it through life with decisions. He’s made good ones. Bad ones. He’s had regrets and he’s had none. This, though, this choice is intensely apparent.
Apparent in the way he knows it will affect much more than he wishes.
He kisses her.
God, this is what he wanted, right? What he’s wanted for so long. He used to toss and turn at night over the thought of Sehee’s eyes; her smile; her lips.
And on his, they were heaven. Plump and soft just like the romance novels say, moving at the exact pace of his heartbeat.
The hand holding his bouquet drops to his side as the other goes to cup Sehee’s cheek. Faintly, the sound of paper fluttering to the ground reaches his ears, but nothing can distract him from this moment.
Until, of course, it ends.
Sehee pulls away. “We can’t— I don’t—”
Someone clears their throat.
Soonyoung turns, finding Minghao standing just off from the curtains, arms crossed and face contorted in thinly-veiled anger.
And you.
You’re standing next to Minghao, obviously shocked — over being seen or what you’ve seen, Soonyoung doesn’t know. Hands fisted and held close to your chest, your eyes widen as they meet Soonyoung’s.
It’s not so dramatic as the movies.
Soonyoung stares at you, tongue unmoving with nothing to say. You stare back, almost frozen, until Minghao gently takes you by your shoulders, forcing you to turn and leave the way you must’ve come. Nothing happens in the time it takes. Soonyoung simply watches.
He’s never been good at reading lips, but he thinks he knows exactly what Minghao whispers in your ear.
There’s something you should know.
Sehee mutters, “Sorry,” and leaves. She looks guilt-ridden as she does, but even in his half-frozen state, Soonyoung knows all of this is on him.
He stands alone in that corner of the stage, the only noise being the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant sound of the last stragglers in the dressing rooms. His hands clench, and the brown paper of the bouquet crumples. He looks at it then, at the yellow roses and baby’s breath, at the beige note that’s fallen to the floor.
Slowly, he crouches, picking up the note with his thumb and forefinger.
Congratulations Soonyoung!! I know how hard you’ve worked for this night, which is why I ordered these to be delivered. Joshua told me yellow roses represent happiness, or something. Pretty, right? You deserve every happiness, so I decided to start with flowers. Tonight may be over, but who knows, maybe we’ll find happiness in tomorrow, too.
It’s stupid. It’s not a love letter. It’s laced with love, though, and he hates that he recognizes your handwriting.
Time moves heavily as Soonyoung turns to the backstage door. He’s the only one left now, his station in the second boy’s dressing room is messy, unlike everyone else’s. His reflection stares back at him while he sits in front of the mirror, motions halved in speed as he wipes off his eye makeup.
It’s over.
When was the last time he thought about how it would end?
He changes out of costume, arms growing stiff, and stuffs everything in his bag without much care for how. His regular clothes itch; he longs to scratch at his skin, but he doesn’t.
He leaves your bouquet on the counter.
His friends stand in a circle in the lobby, brows furrowed and voices hushed as they discuss... something. Soonyoung has a bad feeling he knows exactly the topic. Minghao isn’t there. Nor are you.
Jihoon isn’t around, either, but Soonyoung remembers he had to leave immediately after the performance. Something about an essay. It doesn’t really matter now, not compared to this.
When he approaches his friends, they quiet down further. Half of them look his way with a frown, while the other half choose to avert their eyes. What do they know?
Seungkwan stands out the most. His arms are crossed, his lips are pressed together in a thin line, and anger radiates from his very being. Of course he’s mad. You’re his friend.
The silence consumes Soonyoung as he nearly shrivels under his friends’ gazes. He must have taken his time, the lobby is empty except for them.
“Where’s Minghao?” he asks.
Seungkwan lurches forward, but both Seungcheol and Wonwoo bring up their arms to hold him back.
“Where’s Minghao? Where’s Minghao?” he seethes. He jabs an accusatory finger in Soonyoung’s face. “You just kissed some girl and broke my best friend’s heart and you’re asking about Minghao?!”
So they don’t know. Not really.
Soonyoung endures the scolding. The looks. The questions. The noise.
No answers are really given.
The great thing about having best friends is that they know not to pamper you when you’ve done wrong. That’s also the worst thing about having best friends.
Seungkwan would go on and on, surely, but soon enough the boys notice how little Soonyoung is reacting — how his face and expression is slack and dull.
Joshua holds up a finger to quiet down the ones still complaining, then gestures towards the front entrance.
“Minghao left with her a while ago.” The look on his face is one of pity. Soonyoung hates it.
He nods; stuffs his hands in his pockets as he turns to the door.
“Wait! I’m not done—!” Seungkwan struggles against Wonwoo and Seungcheol, but he’s no match.
Soonyoung doesn’t stick around long enough to hear what happens next.
He has no sense of what to do when he walks out that door. Go home, maybe.
The night breeze hits him with more force than it should, making his eyes go dry and his lips tremble. Outside, everything is almost too loud. There’s traffic on all sides, surrounding the lot of the theatre; the sound of humming engines and honking horns assaults his senses.
He walks — though it feels like wandering — to the parking lot, where he plans to look around for a bus stop.
You’re there.
A mirage, he thinks at first, but you’re really there, sitting on one of those concrete barriers, legs outstretched and ankles crossed. You have your head lowered as you sit, hands braced on the cold concrete.
His held breath escapes him, and you look up.
“You’re here,” you say. The smile on your lips, ever so slight and ever so bitter, causes a ringing in his ears. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”
“I...”
“It’s a lie, right?” Your eyes glisten, but no tears fall. “You wouldn’t— I’m not— I’m not that naive, am I?”
Soonyoung’s lips part, but nothing moves past them. His hands itch to leave his pockets, but with nothing to reach for, they stay still.
“...I see.”
You drop your head again, bringing your hands together to fiddle with your fingernails. He hears your breath, shaky as it is, and his lungs constrict.
“God, it felt so real. I thought— I guess I don’t know what I thought, huh?” A shiver runs through you. “Was any of it real?” you ask the ground.
Soonyoung longs to answer. That’s the thing, though.
He doesn’t know.
Can any of it be real?
You laugh. Before, your laugh was spring strawberries; summer warblers; winter snowdrops. Now, your dry laughter echoes in Soonyoung’s mind like a pebble in a failed attempt of skipping stones.
“Guess not.”
You hop off the concrete barrier, wiping off your pants of dust and dirt. Still, you don’t meet his eyes.
Soonyoung’s heart beats in a way he knows isn’t natural. Guilt seeps through every orifice. “You’re not... you’re not yelling at me. You’re not crying — you’re not angry,” he stumbles through. “Why?”
It’s then that when you meet his eyes, he notices the dried tracks lining your cheeks. You have been crying, just in the time it took for him to come across you.
“I’m just disappointed in myself, Soonyoung,” you say. “I’m the one who fell for it so easily. I’m the one that was tricked. I’m the one who—” a breath “—who loved someone that didn’t love me back.” You step closer, arms limp at your side. “Once I get home, sure, I’ll cry my eyes out. Is that what you want to hear? I’ll curse myself for being so... so stupid.”
“It’s not your fault—”
“No, it’s not. This is not my fault. All I did was believe the words you said to me. All I did was hand myself to you on a silver platter.” Unshed tears brim at your eyelids, but it seems you refuse to let them fall. “But you know the worst part, Soonyoung?”
Everything?
“The worst part is I can’t yell at you. I’m not angry because I fell in love with someone who doesn’t love me back and it hurts and I can’t bring myself to hate you despite being told you’ve never thought about me the way I think about you.”
A breathy gasp escapes you, and you turn on a dime, the sight of your back an icy reminder to Soonyoung of what he’s yet to learn. You take a deep breath to gather yourself, shoulders rising and falling.
“I’ll be going now. I’ve got a lot to think about.”
Soonyoung doesn’t move from his spot when you walk away, or when you get into Minghao’s car, which pulls away after a moment of sitting there in its parking spot. His feet are stuck in stiff mud, unable to shift, even.
Perhaps he stands there for too long. It’s not until he’s staring down the front of his apartment that he realizes one of his friends must have dropped him off.
•
He hasn’t heard from you in a few days. He hasn’t heard from anyone in just as long.
Jihoon already knew (not everything, but enough) by the time Soonyoung rolled out of bed the day after. He hasn’t said anything about it, but Soonyoung can tell this silence isn’t the same as usual. They rarely eat meals together anymore. Last movie night, Jihoon didn’t even pretend to be busy, instead saying he simply wasn’t in the mood.
Seungkwan hasn’t left your side ever since... that happened. If Soonyoung happens to see you on campus, which is almost never, he backs out of approaching you because of the sheer force that is Seungkwan’s glare. Besides, he wouldn’t know what to say even if he did find the courage to face you.
Classes go by in blurs. Not quickly, like scenery past a car window, but so slow that once Soonyoung leaves, he remembers nothing but hours upon hours of staring at his empty notebook, even if the lecture was only fifty minutes long. Days are kind of like that too.
•
Sehee apologizes. She shouldn’t, but she does.
Soonyoung didn’t really hate what he did at first. He liked her, after all.
But when Sehee chokes on her own words, pleading to whoever will listen that she’s not that kind of girl, Soonyoung regrets kissing her more than he ever wanted to kiss her in the first place.
•
please let me explain
I’m sorry
it’s been a while, but still
I’m sorry
[🍥] Explain what?
[🍥] ...
[🍥] Soonyoung?
sorry I just
I wasn’t expecting you to answer
[🍥] Maybe I shouldn’t have
no
wait
I’m sorry
[🍥] So I’ve heard
I just want you to know why what happened, happened
[🍥] But I already know why
it’s not that simple
[🍥] You lied because you suck at lying. Because you knew Sehee was there that night and panicked. I was just collateral damage
[🍥] ...
[🍥] No answer, huh?
[🍥] So it really is that simple
please wait
I’m just trying to figure myself out
[🍥] Let me help you
[🍥] You want my forgiveness because you feel guilty. Maybe you don’t know it yet, but you want me to say I forgive you just so you won’t have to carry this around for the rest of your life
[🍥] I know this isn’t some romcom. I know you’re not here to get me back
[🍥] So just let it go
[🍥] Let’s just forget about this. About what happened
what if I can’t
[🍥] I don’t know
[🍥] Figure it out, I guess
[🍥] But do it on your own
•
Soonyoung doesn’t measure his time anymore.
He wakes up. He eats. He goes to class. He skips lunch. He goes home. He eats. He falls asleep.
When was the last time he went out with someone? When was the last time he had a real conversation?
He doesn’t know.
•
[Minghao] You should tell everyone else
why
[Minghao] Would you rather they think you’re a cheater or just an idiot?
I don’t know
[Minghao] I think they deserve an explanation
[Minghao] Want me to do it for you?
does it even matter anymore
[Minghao] It’s your choice
[Minghao] You just have to make it
then tell them
I don’t care
[Minghao] Are you sure?
tell them
•
These days, Soonyoung stays late at the studio. No one really practices there anymore, not since the showcase finished and finals have rolled around. Actually, Soonyoung should be studying too, but he can’t find the motivation. He thinks it might be the guilt.
You were right. He doesn’t want to carry this around.
The thing is, despite spending entire evenings in the studio, he can’t remember anything as he walks home. It must be hours spent in there, and yet, when he walks out, he can’t recall a thing. Like he was never there at all.
Where does the time go?
With his luck, the elevator is broken when he returns to the apartment building, so he has to take the stairs. Normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but after hours of mindless, sloppy dancing, he’s much too tired. He fumbles with his keys when he tries to open the door, and he rests his forehead on the cool wood for a moment, sighing before he tries again.
The door creaks open. Though it’s late, the lights are still on, which Soonyoung frowns at when he realizes. Lately, Jihoon is never up when Soonyoung comes home. But there he is, sitting at the table right next to the kitchen with his eyes on his hands and his feet tucked under the chair.
Soonyoung freezes after shutting the door behind him, not wholly sure what to make of the scene before him.
After a moment of silence, Jihoon looks up from his fingers and meets Soonyoung’s gaze.
“Minghao called me today,” he says.
Soonyoung gulps, but doesn’t respond — doesn’t know how to.
“I didn’t want to believe it at first, you know.” His voice is slow, croaky; tired. “But it sort of makes sense, doesn’t it. I don’t know how I didn’t see it from the start.”
Slowly, Soonyoung slips off his shoes and steps further into the apartment. “So now you know. I’m really not in the mood for a lecture right now.”
“I just have a question.”
Soonyoung pauses, halfway through the apartment and only a few meters from his bedroom door. He turns to face Jihoon, sighing through his nose and digging his palm into his eye sockets. “Fine,” he concedes. “What?”
“If you never loved — never liked her, why are you acting like this now?”
“Acting like what?”
“Like a dead man walking.”
Soonyoung scoffs, a dry, empty sound as he looks away for a moment before meeting Jihoon’s gaze again. “You’re kidding, right?” he asks. “I lied to someone for months. I pretended to love someone I didn’t. I used her because of my own stupidity and pride, and then I used Sehee, too—” Pausing, he closes his eyes; takes a breath. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s guilt. I feel guilty for... for everything.”
“That’s the only reason?”
“Excuse me?”
Jihoon rhythmically taps the pads of his fingers on the table. It’s not loud enough to be heard, but Soonyoung’s eyes train to the sight. “It’s only the guilt?”
“What else would it be?”
This time, it’s Jihoon who sighs. He looks at his hands again for a second. “Do me a favour,” he says without looking up.
“Look, I already—”
“Just do what I say.”
Soonyoung groans, but he knows he can’t argue with Jihoon and win — not now at least. He rubs his eyes, shoulders rising and falling as he takes in a deep breath. Mumbling under his breath, he says, “Fine.”
Jihoon stands from his chair, and in such stagnant silence, the sound of the legs squeaking on the floor is profound. He points to the middle of the apartment, the large bit of floor-space that’s too big to be considered part of the kitchen but too small to house any furniture.
“Stand right there.”
“...What?”
Without answering, Jihoon simply points at the floor again, and Soonyoung can only groan in defiance as he moves to stand in that spot. Grabbing a throw pillow from the couch, Jihoon steps a few feet away, facing Soonyoung with the pillow held in one hand at his side. He seems to consider something for a moment.
Soonyoung has never been unable to read Jihoon this much, so he asks, “What is this all about—”
Jihoon screams. Not a high-pitched screech, but a guttural battle cry, and Soonyoung’s eyes widen. Faster than he can comprehend, Jihoon runs towards him and tackles him to the ground. Soonyoung’s legs crumble as he falls, and he feels the throw pillow pressing onto his face.
This is it, he thinks. This is how he dies.
“Jihoon!” he cries, but his protest is muffled by the pillow. “What the fuck are you—!”
“You fucking idiot! You don’t know shit!”
“I know that!” Soonyoung thrashes to get the pillow off, but Jihoon is way stronger than he looks.
“You miss her you fucking buffoon! You’re all in your doom and gloom because you had a good thing going and had to go fuck it up!”
“I don’t!”
“Don’t try to argue with me, fucker, I know you better than anyone. Now scream!”
The pillows squishes further down, and while Soonyoung can still breathe, it’s far from comfortable. He continues to struggle even though he knows it’s useless.
“What?!”
“Scream into the pillow! You’re mad at yourself and you should be! Let it all out!”
“I—”
“Scream!”
And he does. He lets out a loud bellow that’s nothing but sound roaring from his lungs. He does it mostly to appease Jihoon — so that maybe he’ll finally get off.
But it feels good.
No, not good, really. It feels awful. Everything feels awful. Yet, something about screaming makes him want to do it again. He yells once more into the pillow, the sound muffled in the fabric and yet intensely remarkable. He screams and he screams and he screams until he can’t scream anymore and his voice is raw and there’s no more sound aside from the fractured gasps of his sobs. Tears soak into rough fabric, and he doesn’t even notice that Jihoon isn’t holding the pillow anymore — he’s pressing it to his face himself. His body shakes under Jihoon. Soonyoung feels pathetic, but he can’t stop.
He tries again to scream into the pillow, but his voice cracks and all he knows is to cry.
This is what it’s like.
Quietly, Jihoon maneuvers himself so he sits by Soonyoung’s head. He slowly lifts a corner of the pillow and peeks at Soonyoung’s red face. “So,” he whispers, voice soft and full of care. “What are you going to do now?”
Soonyoung wraps his arms around the pillow, hiding his face again.
“I don’t know,” he says. He’s never felt less sure of anything. “I don’t know.”
•
That night, Soonyoung cleans his room. He doesn’t reorganize or anything, just picks discarded clothes up off the ground and throws them in a hamper, spreads his blankets so his bed actually looks bed-like, and takes his overflowing garbage bin out to the door, where he’ll take it out tomorrow morning. As he stretches his arm between his bed and the wall, his fingers close around the sweater he’s trying to reach and... something else. When he brings his hand back up, a small tiger plush stares back at him.
Go get ‘em, tiger!
He stares at the words for a moment, sitting up on his bed and leaning his back against the wall. The plush feels frail in his hands, almost like the velvet heart held in the tiger’s paws could crumble at any moment. Maybe it will.
Soonyoung settles down above the covers that night, and the tiger sits on his other pillow.
The one that still smells like you.
•
He cries. (For the second time since you left.)
•
After everything that’s happened, one would think it would take a miracle to fix what’s been broken. Soonyoung thinks it will take more than that, but still; he’s no miracle worker. He thinks it will take magic to just see you again.
Turns out, it takes a coffee.
Jihoon forces Soonyoung to join him in visiting one of the campus cafes. He doesn’t think about it too much, just believes Jihoon’s trying to keep him alive with a little kick of caffeine. That thought is pushed away when Jihoon blocks him from sitting at the little table, pointing instead across the space to the student printing center.
You’re talking to a customer at the front counter, forearms rested on the white faux marble. A smile is on your lips as you say whatever it is you’re saying to the girl, and Soonyoung finds it almost impossible to tear his eyes away. But he does. He scans the rest of the building for a second. Seungkwan is nowhere to be seen, and neither is Minghao.
He turns to Jihoon, a question on the tip of his tongue.
“She told the bodyguards to back off,” Jihoon explains without needing to be asked. “It’s been a few days.” He nods his chin towards you. “Go on. Talk to her.”
Soonyoung shakes his head, gulping down the words he can’t yet think of. “I don’t... I’m not... ready.”
“If you back out now, you’re going to keep backing out until it’s too late.”
Jihoon’s eyes blaze with an unfitting determination for such a setting. He looks stupid, like some self-made, all-knowing relationship guru who likes the coke he’s gripping too much. Still, he’s right.
Soonyoung licks his dry lips and looks at you again. You’ve sat down, relaxed after having helped that customer and now conversing with one of the other students working there. He misses the way you looked when you were happy — when you were happy with him.
What will it take to see that again?
What will it take to hold you again?
His feet move before his doubts can stop him, and the scene feels awfully familiar. This time though, Soonyoung can’t help but feel like the bad guy.
You don’t notice him until he’s right in front of you, and he doesn’t know what hurts more: the immediate frown, or the fake smile you use to cover it up.
“Hi, what can I do for you today?”
If Soonyoung had to define heartache, he might use this moment. Feigning to forget rather than acknowledging the past... it’s effective, but it hurts.
“Can...” He hesitates and curses himself for it. “Can we talk?”
“About printing, yes. About anything else? I really would rather we didn’t,” you say under your breath. It’s hushed, and you don’t shy away when Soonyoung leans closer to hear. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?
“But there’s something I need to say.”
“I don’t think I want to hear anymore apologies, Soonyoung.”
“It’s not that,” he argues.
Your eyebrows scrunch together. “It’s not an apology?”
“No— I mean, well, yes I want to apologize. I don’t think I’ll ever stop apologizing, but— but that’s not what I—”
“Soonyoung.”
He stops at your word, knowing that speaking will only get him further into trouble. Around you, his words keep failing. Instead, he meets your eyes, which under more inspection, seem hardened.
Have eyes ever looked so hardened when brimmed with tears?
“I don’t know if you know this, but seeing you makes me hate myself.” By now, your coworker has walked to the back, probably to respect your privacy. Your voice almost cracks. “I’ve felt worthless before, but Soonyoung, do you even realize what that — what you did to me?”
He barely breathes before saying, “What if I... what if I said I fell in love with you? Somewhere along the way?” A pause. Your eyes waver, but steady themselves. “What if I said I love you?”
“Soonyoung,” you say after a second.
“Yes?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
•
[🍥] Give me a reason to give you a chance
this is real right?
[🍥] It’s not a dream if that’s what you’re asking
all of a sudden??
[🍥] Minghao and Jihoon said I should
[🍥] And I think I should too
[🍥] But it’s hard
[🍥] What you said yesterday... I don’t know if I can believe it just yet
will you meet me?
I want to see you
[🍥] Can you give me some time?
yes
all the time you need
but will you?
will you meet me?
[🍥] I don’t want to
[🍥] But then again, I do
[🍥] Just give me some time
•
A strange thing, time. It passes by much too quickly when you want it to last, and it drags on when all you want is to be there. There; right then; right now.
Soonyoung stays up late turning on and off his phone, waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting.
It’s only been two days.
Jihoon thinks he’s crazy, though he hasn’t said it out loud — Soonyoung can tell.
He also thinks he might be a little crazy, but that’s okay. If it means he’ll get the chance to make it up to you... maybe he’s fine with being crazy.
At some point, Jihoon barges into his room and takes away Soonyoung’s phone, snatching it straight out of his hands like the little thief he is. He keeps it out of reach despite being shorter, preaching bullshit like, “You need to calm down and act like a normal person!”
Fine, whatever.
Soonyoung goes out for some air. And instant ramen.
There’s a twenty-four hour convenience store right on the edge of campus, manned by a single tired university student that everyone is aware of, yet no one really seems to know his name. It’s one of those spots where time doesn’t exist; maybe names don’t, either.
Compared to the blackness of night, the blanch white convenience store sticks out like a sore thumb, especially with all the bright posters and fluorescent tube-lights. Soonyoung feels just as out of place with no people around just outside the store, but really, it’s to be expected at a time like two in the morning.
He’s right at the door when it chimes and slides open. And so are you.
Both of you freeze where you are, you in the doorway and he just in front. His jaw slacks slightly as he takes you in.
You’re in casual clothes again, a thick sweater and presumably pyjama pants. This version of you comes with good memories — for some reason he likes it more than he cares to admit. Maybe he liked that you could share a more vulnerable side to him, and he to you in return. Although, you’ve shown this side to even the unnamed convenience store guy.
It’s your voice that breaks him from his reverie.
“Soonyoung,” you say, and it’s softer than before. Maybe your voice is lighter from the fact that it’s two in the morning, maybe just because you’re tired, but a small part of Soonyoung wishes that it’s something else — that you sound softer because you’ve missed him too.
He hopes it isn’t just hope.
He says your name, the sound beautiful and battered on his tongue. A small smile passes your lips, so fast that he almost misses it, but he doesn’t. That’s one thing he knows about you: how much you care. Even if someone hurts you, you always take the time to hear them out. You give them chances. Soonyoung should thank his lucky stars that you’ve done the same for him.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
You smile again, and it reaches your eyes, however sad.
“Is it time?” he asks.
“It can be.” The plastic bag in your hand crinkles as you sway it back and forth. “Do you want it to be?”
“Yeah.” His voice comes out like a breath. “Please.”
“Then that’s what we’ll make it.”
You gesture to the ground, where the curb meets the asphalt, but Soonyoung is still a little shocked that he’s even met you here in the first place, so he watches, dazed, as you sit down on the curb before joining in. He stays silent as you pull out an ice cream cup and hand it to him. He stays silent as you procure a second one and peel open the plastic lid, digging into it with the wooden stick spoon-wannabe that comes with the package. He stays silent as you look at him, the wooden stick hanging from your mouth.
“So,” you say, scraping the side of the paper cup. Meeting his eyes, you sport a sly smile. “I hear you’re in love with me.”
The ice cream stays unopened in his hands. He finds it so easy to smile back.
“Yeah. I think I am.”
“You think you are?”
“I’ve never loved someone like this before,” he tries to explain, though the words are slow to his tongue. “I can only think.”
“I guess so.”
“But—” he looks at his fingers, fiddling with the plastic lid of the cup, and a small laugh escapes “—I’m thinking really, really hard.”
You laugh too; his heart blooms.
“Is that so?” you tease, smiling around the wooden spoon. “It’s gonna take more than that.”
“I think I can do it.”
“You think?”
“I think really hard.”
Soonyoung might be in love with every part of you, even if he never realized. Your laugh, your smile, your tells, your habits. He wishes he knew sooner, that this laugh could’ve been his forever long before now.
You scrape the last drops of ice cream out of the paper cup and leave the stick in your mouth, a bit chewed up. Your shoes tap against the asphalt, the rhythm something that draws both his and your eyes.
“You know...” you say, turning your head to meet his gaze once more. “You know you hurt me, right? You know this won’t be easy?”
“None of what we had was easy.”
A scoff runs past your lips. You bump your shoulder against his. “Speak for yourself. I fell hard and fast for you, asshole.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. I know.” You take the still unopened ice cream from his hands and stuff it right back in the bag it came from. “Say it again, though.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Hmmm... maybe it’ll take a few more times.”
“I’m—”
“But not tonight,” you say. “Tonight...”
Your hand beside him closes the distance, grazing over his and pulling it over to your lap.
“...just hold me?”
And he does.

Bonus (gn) epilogue: Fluff and Context Bonus (gn) blurbs: [a fate of my choosing][pick a struggle]
impulse


pairing: non-idol!hoshi x gn!reader
genre: acquaintances to lovers.
word count: ~1.0k
warnings: soonyoung learns he was cheated on. reader recounts being cheated on. some mutual pining between soonyoung and reader. alcohol mentions.
daisy's notes: manifesting 2024 being A Year. not even a good or a bad one. just let it be a year.

Soonyoung was starting to really regret coming to this party. Not only was he single on New Years Eve, but his ex was there—and she had a new boyfriend. Jihoon had already pulled him aside twice now, saying that if Soonyoung was bothered by it, he'd say the word to Seungcheol. Seungcheol had been friends with her, after all, but he would ask her to leave if he needed to. Both times, Soonyoung turned down the offer. But now he was standing outside, wishing he hadn’t.
She broke up with him a year ago. And, when approached by Minghao while he was alone, the new boyfriend said they’d been together for a little over a year now.
It wasn’t hard to do the math, and it was too close to midnight for Soonyoung to say something. He’d tell Seungcheol later, though, and buy Minghao whatever meal or drink or art supplies he wanted for immediately telling Soonyoung. Sure, it stung for Minghao to break the news to him after he pulled him onto the balcony, but it still meant a lot. He didn’t have to tell him at all, or even tonight, and yet he did (and he’d stayed long enough to ask if Soonyoung wanted to talk or leave, that he’d go with him if he did). Soonyoung let out a sigh, the rest of his beer having been dumped into the sink. Sure, getting drunk would probably numb the pain, but his good mood had fully been soured and he didn’t want to drink the feelings away.
“Soonyoung?”
He looked up to where you had stood in the glass doorway, stepping out after a moment, and immediately felt his heart leap into his throat. Oh no. Not you. Seungcheol knew how Soonyoung felt about you ever since he introduced you two a few months ago. Except you had a boyfriend you dumped a week later (Seungcheol had canceled plans with Soonyoung to go comfort you), and Soonyoung never found the right time to try and ask you out. Hell, what if you were still hurting? He shoved that away. You were being nice now, weren’t you? You probably saw him sulking and decided to come check on him…
So he finally spoke up. “Hi.” His voice felt smaller than usual, but that was whatever. “Sorry—I’m not in the mood for a party, and Jihoon’s my ride.”
You slowed to a stop next to him, leaning against the railing. “That’s okay. I just wanted to come check on you.”
Soonyoung looked at you, brows drawing together. “Did Minghao…?”
“I, uh, overheard.” You drummed your fingers against the railing’s edge. “I mean—I didn’t know. But I asked Seungcheol, and he pointed out your ex, and I kinda put two and two together…”
Soonyoung looked away, staring out at the city lights. “Yeah, I… I didn't want to make a big deal out of it.”
“The countdown’s starting soon,” you said. The door had been left cracked open a little, and the two of you could hear people laughing at something inside. “Just thought I’d let you know.”
He just nodded, arms curling around himself. It was cold, but Soonyoung hadn’t let it bother him too much. He’d grab his jacket and leave with Jihoon after midnight. That had been the plan, after all.
“It really sucks to get cheated on,” you sighed. “But I kinda wish you found out a different way. It’s a lot easier to hate someone when they tell you face to face, I guess.”
Soonyoung looked over. “You…?”
With a sigh, you shoved your hands into your jacket’s pockets. “You don’t know him since we met, like, right before I dumped him. But I was dating this guy for a while and everything was going great… and then he told me he’d slept with a few people.”
“A few?!”
A bitter laugh bubbled past your lips. “I dumped him on the spot. Seungcheol ended up coming over while he gathered his shit. He wasn’t on the lease or anything, so he was just getting his stuff to go back to his apartment, but I didn’t really wanna be alone with him, y’know?” With a sigh, you looked at Soonyoung. “I mean… I don’t wish that you found out like that. But I wish you didn’t find out through someone else, y’know? She’s the one who fucked up,” you poked him in the middle of his chest, “not you. The least she could do is fucking own up to it.”
Soonyoung nodded slowly. “Right… Sorry, by the way. That’s awful.”
You shrugged. “It is what it is. It hurt a lot, but… I think I became okay with it after a while. I’m never gonna forgive him, sure, but I realized that I couldn’t blame myself for it anymore. It’s not my fault he did that.”
“Right,” Soonyoung nodded. “Hey, um… I know it’s not the right time, but—”
“It’s starting!” Seungcheol yelled out, and when Soonyoung looked back, he’d made eye contact with him. A nod. Just so you know.
People started to countdown inside. Ten…. Nine…
“Soonyoung?”
Eight… Seven…
“Can I kiss you?” He spoke quickly, words blending together.
Six… Five…
You blinked in surprise. “What?”
Four… Three…
“Can I kiss you—”
Two…
Immediately, you nodded. “Yes.”
At the turn of the year, Soonyoung’s lips smashed down onto yours a little too forcefully. Yet you kissed him back, a hand curling around the back of his head, almost guiding him a bit. Soonyoung could hear the cheers inside of people celebrating the new year, and yet all he could think about was the fact he was kissing you now. You drew back, gazing at him with this longing look in your eyes as you smiled.
“I think… I’m free on Friday.”
He stared at you, almost about to question it before he understood. “Oh!”
“Can you wait that long for me?” You teased a little. Your hands rested on his hips now, and Soonyoung could feel his heart racing. “I’ll buy dinner.”
He smiled at you, hands still on your cheeks. “I’d like that,” he said softly. “Happy New Year, by the way.”
With a giggle, you pecked his lips. “Happy New Yeah. Let’s make it a good one.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny
The thing about love;

Hoshi (k.s.y) x reader; university!au (ft. Jeonghan x OC)
genre: fluff, angst, humour, one sided pining
warnings: slow burn, swearing, corny jokes, slapping (apologies are given), yelling, alcohol, shitty friends, kind of a mean girl thing (not reader), broken friendships, heavy emotions (at certain points), reader in denial (lmk if there’s anything else)
25.3k words (I will better myself)
masterlist
excerpt: The slap you sent across Kwon Soonyoung’s face sent a reverberating sound across the dance studio.
He looks up, eyes bloodshot and swimming with fury. There’s a hint of a smile on his face for some reason, which you realize may be out of disbelief.
You don’t register anything else other than the rage that accelerates down your own veins. There’s a part of you that wants to do it again when he utters his next words.
“That was a bad fucking idea”
(A/N): FINALLY it's here. Tysm for clicking on this I love y'all tons for the support on all my other work, I hope this one makes the mark too! This reflects more of my personal situations more than you’d think, broken friendships that you’d never imagine to lose hurt like a bitch and I’m so sorry if you’ve gone through this too. Hopefully, Hoshi can give you some solace <3
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