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halesandy · 12 hours
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Saved You A Seat.
Synopsis: Seokmin saves you a seat in class every morning as much as you seem pretend to dislike it.
Characters: Lee Seokmin × Reader
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: Reader doesn't actually dislike or hate Seokmin, they're just an idiot. 🥲
Word Count: 1.3k
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Lee Seokmin isn't real. He can't be real.
No regular human being can be this chirpy at 8am in the morning every single day.
You heard him before you even saw him as you stepped into the lecture hall, immediately noticing him chatting with another student as he gestured wildly and his boisterous laugh echoed throughout the room.
In an attempt to sneak past him, you hid behind another student once you neared the row he was in. But nothing was ever that easy.
"Y/n! I saved you a seat right here!" His loud voice caught even the attention of the students seated a few rows before him and you would have pretended not to hear him if it wasn't for the fact that he kept calling out your name, each call sounding more excited than the last.
It still embarrassed you to have more than half of the class staring at you despite this same situation happening every morning (when you have classes).
Spinning around to face him begrudgingly, you saw the bright smile on his face. The one he was known around campus for, the one that earned him the nickname of "Sunshine" amongst students, some professors and the campus café staff.
"We always look forward to Seokmin coming in everyday," your friend that works part time at the café had told you. "His presence really brings such joy. Especially if you've had a long shift that day."
It's too early for this, you thought to yourself.
He was pointing to the seat next to him animatedly as he beckoned you over and you were about to turn around and keep moving along like you usually do until you realized the back rows had been filled up.
"Good morning Y/n!" He greeted you warmly as you settled into the seat he'd saved you. "How was your weekend?"
You gave him a nod and mumbled a half-hearted response.
"I didn't see you at the barbeque party on Saturday," you could tell he was disappointed even without looking at his face.
"Seokmin."
At the sound of you calling his name, he sat up eagerly, ready to listen to what you have to say to him.
"I'm getting a headache."
"Are you okay Y/n? Do you need some painkillers?" He hurriedly reached for his backpack that was on the floor. "I have some in my bag in case of emergencies."
He searched around in his backpack, pulling it so close to his face that his head was almost inside it.
"I remember I have them somewhere in here," his voice now muffled by the backpack with his head fully stuck in it.
You put a hand on his arm to stop him.
"I'm fine, Seokmin. I just need a little peace and quiet."
He pulled his head back out of the backpack and shot you a concerned look.
"Are you sure? Maybe you're dehydrated. Have you drank any water today?"
"Yes, Seokmin, I'm sure."
With a quick nod, he handed you a bottle of water and dropped his backpack next to his feet.
You muttered a quiet "thank you" to him and for the rest of the two hour lecture, Seokmin sat next to you quietly with a big, silly grin on his face.
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You tried to escape once the lecture ended but again, nothing was ever that easy.
Seokmin quickly followed behind you out of the hall.
"What do you have after this?" He asked when he caught up to you.
"Nothing, I don't have another class until 10."
"Great! Me too!" He was almost bouncing with excitement. "Should we go grab some breakfast?"
You wanted to reject his offer but your stomach started growling so Seokmin started pulling you towards the cafeteria.
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That's how you ended up sitting across from Seokmin, munching on a sandwich wordlessly while he told you about how much fun the barbeque party was as he chewed on his waffle.
You wonder how someone can have so much energy and enthusiasm contained within him and you wonder why he's always trying to be around someone like you.
Someone that's the complete opposite of him.
He was so full of life, love and positivity and always has a smile on his face while you're just… Not like that.
You're someone that was just trying to graduate without drawing too much attention to yourself while Seokmin doesn't miss any opportunity to socialize.
He had friends everywhere on campus, even with people he didn't even share a single class with.
People just seem to be drawn to him, except for you it seemed.
As much as you try to avoid him, it doesn't seem to be possible, seeing as how you're literally seated opposite him eating your breakfast right now.
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You finally got Seokmin off your back when he had to go to a different class from you.
"Bye Y/n," he waved at you with a pout on his face after exiting the cafeteria. "I had a great time hanging out with you."
You returned a quick wave and a "see you" before heading to your next class.
Not even 10 steps away from where you had left Seokmin, you felt your phone vibrating in your back pocket.
Seokmin: Bye Y/n, have a wonderful rest of the day. :)
You didn't reply.
Seokmin: Turn around.
You kept walking and shoved your phone back into your pocket.
"Y/N!"
The loud yelling made you stop in your tracks and you looked behind you to find Seokmin still standing in the same spot waving at you wildly.
"Have fun at your next class!" He shouted.
You sped walked away.
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Seokmin continued saving you the seats next to him in the lecture halls for your 8am lectures like he usually does, except now, you actually accept his offer after the first call unlike the previous times where you tried to ignore him.
But you still had one condition though, he needs to stay quiet for the rest of the lesson. Dealing with an overly energetic Seokmin at 8am was just too much of a task for you, especially when you were barely awake and uncaffeinated.
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On a rainy Tuesday morning, you immediately noticed something was different when you stepped into the room.
Seokmin wasn't there. There was no one calling out to you as you climbed up the short steps located at the sides of the hall.
You couldn't help but feel your heart sink slightly. Were you… disappointed?
You tried to ignore the feelings as you walked towards an empty seat, subconsciously leaving your backpack on the chair next to yours instead of on the floor. Pulling your phone out, you checked to see if there was any message from Seokmin and you found yourself getting worried that he hadn't sent you his usual "good morning" text.
Had he fallen sick?
Should I text him to see if he was okay?
Suddenly the doors flew open at close to 8.10am and Seokmin rushed in breathlessly, still wearing a raincoat that was soaking wet and holding two cups of hot coffees in his hands.
His eyes scanned the rows of students frantically until he finally spotted you and his face visibly lit up as he rushed towards you.
You quickly removed your backpack from his seat.
"Did you save this seat for me?" He teased, setting one of the cups down before you.
Rolling your eyes, you placed your backpack back down on the chair.
"No actually I'm saving it for someone else, go sit elsewhere." You scoffed.
Seokmin moved your backpack away and sat down.
"Don't be so mean," he groaned.
You ignored him and he pushed the cup on your table into your hands.
"So were you saving the seat for me?" He probed again and he didn't miss the way the corners of your lips quirked slightly as you turned away from him and lifted the cup to take a sip.
He tapped on your table to try and get your attention.
"Do I have to stay quiet today too?"
You pretended to think for a while.
"As a thank you for the coffee," you take another sip, "no you don't have to."
"Should have told me that earlier," he grumbled. "I would have gotten you coffee every single day."
a/n: once again, reader doesn't actually dislike seokmin!!!!! they're just a dumbass (aka me bcs this is how i am irl except i don't have a seokmin that's so persistent in making me realise my feelings)!!!!! also would this be considered as fluff? idk what i should be categorising it as 😭 -bibi
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halesandy · 12 hours
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hand in mine — lee seokmin | 1,550 words | fluff
slightly inspired by my friend and their partner, i didn't know it was possible for two people to be so in love :') here's just...dk being sappy. sappy dk.
gender neutral reader. warnings: bonus pov?
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dokyeom swears you're like a portable human charger.
when he's away, whether it's because he's still in practice or because he's on tour or even when he's at his parents' place, a single phone call from you is enough to lift his spirits to get him through the rest of the day. weekends spent at each other's places together are almost enough to convince him to just become an apartment hermit.
it's been true for ages — and it's true again, tonight.
or it will be, if you'll stop talking to one kim mingyu.
dokyeom's getting antsier the longer you stand there talking to mingyu, nodding along to something he's telling you. can't it wait till tomorrow? doesn't mingyu see he's in dire need of recharging?
now he knows mingyu's not telepathic, but somehow the younger man realizes dokyeom's staring at the two of you, so he finishes whatever he's saying with a nod towards where dokyeom's sitting. you follow his gaze and smile when you see dokyeom, who swears his heart melts a little, right there.
but then you stop to greet joshua, chatting with him for a minute (a whole minute, in this economy?) before you're standing right next to dokyeom.
he stretches his arms out to you. you bend down, letting him wrap himself around you the best he can. it's good, but it's not enough. he lets go only to tug at your hand. "sit down."
you look around. "there's no place, kyeomie. i don't mind standing."
he frowns at you. "i mind. you can sit in my lap."
you give him a look. "in front of your friends? i'd rather not."
dokyeom pouts. "they're your friends, too."
"of course i know that, baby. but they don't ever stop teasing us, do they?"
"ugh. they'll make fun of me, not you. please?"
you run a hand through his hair. "i don't want them to make fun of you, either."
he huffs. "fine. c'mere," he mumbles, scooting to give you some more space. you go willingly this time, settling yourself into the minimal space next to him. it's not easy when there's already thirteen of them in a room, but he manages to nudge chan away to give you some more space.
"hi," you whisper, letting him throw his hand around your shoulder to pull you closer. "missed you today."
dokyeom pulls back to look at you. he feels almost shy to have all your attention on him, silly as it sounds. "just today?" he asks, grinning when you roll your eyes. "you got here safely?"
you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his nose. "perfectly. there was way lesser traffic than i expected."
"good."
you snuggle into dokyeom's side, stretching your legs out next to his. this is always his favourite place to be — because he can have your words be all for his ears only.
but then he frowns when he sees your outfit — a shirt and a pair of shorts. he takes off his jacket and drapes it across your legs despite your protests.
"you should've worn something warmer," he frowns. you're never good with the cold, and you're not going to be comfortable with the way more than half the members need the air conditioning to be switched on at all times.
"i was almost ready to go to bed, kyeomie," you explain, adjusting the jacket on yourself nonetheless. "i wouldn't be here if shua didn't call me. thank you, though. how was your day?"
dokyeom sighs. he doesn't want to talk about his day when he's been living through it for the entirety of...well, the day, but he has to say something for you. "not...the best," he concedes, resting his head on your shoulder.
"do you want to go home soon?" you ask, your hand finding his, tracing random patterns on his skin. the tingles help ground him.
he shrugs. "i don't know."
it's true, as much as he hates it. he doesn't want to leave because it'll end up breaking up the party — it always so happens that the first person to leave is the catalyst for most others to start wrapping things up, unwittingly. he doesn't want to be a party pooper, but at the same time, he's had a long day. it's like he's been aware of every single second he's been awake, and it's exhausting.
"okay," you say simply. "let's stay for a while more. it's not like we're in a rush. and i know how hard you worked today."
dokyeom closes his eyes at that. he knows he's done well, today being one of those days where he's genuinely looking for the end, but hearing it from you makes it much better. "yeah?"
"yeah," you affirm, hand rising to comb gently through his hair again, left open now that he's discarded his beanie. "i love you, kyeom. so much. it's still hard to put it into words sometimes."
he snuggles a bit more into you at that, slightly satisfied when seungkwan chucks a piece of popcorn at him from the bed, telling you both to stop being so cheesy. he feels even better when you throw it back at seungkwan, letting out a triumphant ha! when it hits him on the knee.
he loves you.
there's no bottom to that endless truth. he's somewhat loved you ever since he first saw you, drawn to the way your sense of humour was so close to his, and the somewhat turned into a definitely the more he got to know you.
dokyeom isn't half of anything — he's all of himself, lee seokmin, content with the way he is except for a few gripes here and there, but you complete him in a way he didn't know any person could.
he's not worried about you leaving him — there's no way either of you are letting that happen. it's more about not knowing who he is without you, now that your lives are so intertwined.
"stop," you mumble, your grip on his hair tightening slightly.
"stop what?"
"thinking. about whatever you are. i told you i love you and i'm not going anywhere."
the haze he's in almost clears a bit at that. "how did you— i didn't—"
"you always get so pensive when you're tired, did you know? i should record you some time. it's like there's a philosopher hidden inside you."
pensive? when he's tired?
"i love you normally," he blurts out, scared at the insinuation that he thinks about how much you mean to him only when he's vulnerable like this.
you're not saying anything back, though. you're just smiling at him.
"what," he asks, breaths a bit shallow.
"i know," you press, hand lifting his to show the ring that sits on his fourth finger. "i love you normally, too."
dokyeom lets out a chuckle. he still can't believe it's possible to love someone this much.
"now let me get you home and help you get some sleep, okay?" you ask, punctuating your question with a tug to his chin. "the others will understand."
as if you have to ask him. he'll go wherever you take him, no questions asked.
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joshua can see the change in dokyeom's eyes the moment you walk into the room.
the conversation doesn't stop; mingyu and jun are still arguing about how mingyu should stop taking inspiration from jeonghan when it comes to board games and cheating. jeonghan has a proud smile on his face. wonwoo and minghao have zoned out entirely, too busy with their phones to acknowledge the little fight going on. the others are busy eating or ordering more food or arguing about which movie to watch next.
there's just one person missing from the chaos.
dokyeom's sitting on the floor under the window, entirely in his own world, constantly checking his phone and looking at the door, shutting his eyes for a minute before repeating his actions.
joshua would've poked fun at him if he didn't know how tired dokyeom already was today. a particularly tiring day, especially with a comeback practice they'd just gotten back from, and a going seventeen shoot in which dokyeom had been on the losing team. even though he doesn't like to show it, joshua knows dokyeom is somewhat upset over not winning.
but the moment you walk into the room, it's like a switch has been flipped. dokyeom sits up straighter, the neutral expression on his face morphing into a tired but real smile. he holds his hands out to you and pouts when you stop to greet all the other members first, shaking hands with them or giving them a quick side hug.
joshua pulls you close with ease. "thanks for making it here on such short notice."
"are you seriously thanking me for that?"
"i mean...he really needs to see you. today hasn't been his day."
you look over at your husband for a moment. "i could tell. his texts were pretty dry."
"right? now go get your lover boy. he's been moping all evening long."
you wrinkle your nose at the term, just like he expected you to, but you nod and make your way to dokyeom.
joshua turns away when dokyeom gives you a dopey, lovesick grin. he'll let the teasing go for tonight.
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taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae
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halesandy · 4 days
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• Best friend Stray Kids knowing you had a bad day without you needing to tell him | OT8 x you
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warnings: none
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halesandy · 4 days
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I was wondering if you could possibly do a reverse texting fic of your last one where they are the ones distancing themselves so they don't bother you or be too "clingy"
idk how Christopher’s got so long but i miss that man
They dont want to be clingy
Ot8 x reader
Masterlist
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halesandy · 5 days
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𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢 𝐝𝐨!
nonidol!jung wooyoung x f!reader
the one where you're stuck in denial and wooyoung's determined to not be stuck in the friend zone.
7.7k words, fluff, f2l, they've kinda got a banter thing going on, he's in a frat cuz i said so, college au, swearing, kissing, mentions of alcohol and food, pining, obliviousness, jealousy/insecurity if you squint...? (sorry mark), barely proofread, overall pretty wholesome
a/n: okay... wooyo brainrot going hard lately, but anyways, hope u enjoy <3
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The horizon glittered like a sea of molten gold when you stepped onto the sandy shores of the beach. Seagulls squawked overhead, riding the setting sky like your friends currently in the surf. You smiled to yourself, inhaling the briny air and slipping the shades off your nose and up onto your head. Your sandals hung limp in your hand as grains of sand embedded themselves into the soles of your bare feet while you jogged down the hill toward the bonfire and crowd of people.
The last week of summer before the fall semester brought your friends to convince you to come to their last bonfire at the beach. It wasn't difficult to persuade you.
“Oy, Yn! Head's up!"
Your eyes shot open and your head whipped up. Sandals fell from your hand as they came up to grab the frisbee out of the sky. It was plastic and blue, with scratches engraved into its surface from thorough use.
Hoots of approval erupted from further down the bank. "Nice catch!" Yeonjun praised as he jogged to meet you in the middle. A light blue Hawaiian shirt hung loose off his lean frame, unbuttoned to display the glorious, toned muscles of his chest.
You grinned, handing him the frisbee before picking your sandals back up. The two of you walked together back towards the group. "Thanks. How're you, Jun?"
He pulled you into a brief, yet affectionate side hug. "I'm great! You?"
"Same here." You had been itching for an outing—and dreading the first day back to class—so this would be good for you. “Who's here today?”
“Ah, y'know, the usuals.” He grinned at you then, sending you a teasing wink. “Your lover boy's here for sure. He wouldn't miss this for the world.”
Your skin warmed at the playful comment and you were failing to pretend it was just because it was hot out here. You rolled your eyes. “He is not my lover boy.”
“Based on the fact you knew who I was talking about though,” he drawled with a singsong tone. He let out a loud guffaw at your less than gruntled expression. “You know, he ditched his frat's annual pool party to be here.”
“That's his prerogative—I don't know how that relates to me,” you said with your palms raised up helplessly.
As you turned around to walk in front of him, Yeonjun wrinkled his nose with a grin. “It's cute when you're in denial.”
You scoffed, backpedaling in the opposite direction to where Changbin was hollering for him to hurry up with the frisbee. “Denial, as if.”
“Whatever you say, Cher,” he snickered, then raised his hand up in goodbye to jog across the sands to the game of frisbee.
You huffed a laugh and shook your head. The sun glared in your eyes as you trudged through the sand toward the sounds of your other friends hollering at you from the barbeque and speaker system set up. You flicked your shades back over your eyes, an easy smile coming to your face. “Hi everyone! Smells delicious over here.”
Chan was stationed at the small, portable barbeque with a bottle of beer in his hand. He smiled as you neared, digging his hand into the cooler beside him to pass you a fresh bottle of hard lemonade. “You're right on time, Yn. Dinner is almost ready.”
“I do believe I have impeccable timing,” you mused, thanking him while accepting the bottle. You dropped your sandals to the sand by your feet so you could free your hands and twist the bottle cap off.
“So glad you could make it, Yn!” Lia chimed in from her spot beneath the beach tent. She and Chaeryeong were lying on their stomachs with books splayed out before them for a light beach read.
“Hey guys! Glad I could make it, too—”
“Oh my god, is that Yn Ln?”
Your head whipped around in the direction of the new voice, and you watched as Felix trudged up the sandy bank with his surfboard under his arm, his free hand brushing back his strands of damp hair.
“Felix Lee, you've been chickening out on me all summer.”
He gave a lazy smile back at you as the two of you clasped hands in greeting, his being cold and wet from the waves and yours dry and gritty with sand. “You say that like you haven't been working all summer. Anyways, there's someone who's been dying to see you even more than me.”
You could spot the impish mischief in the blond's eyes from a mile away. “I feel like everyone's been telling me the same thing, but I haven't seen Wooyoung anywhere.”
“First time she says my name, and it's not even to my face,” came a dramatic sigh from somewhere behind you.
The organ in your chest kicked into action and you turned to face the newcomer bounding toward the group from up the hill where the parking lot was. He was clad in a pair of board shorts and a tank top, his skin glowing in the golden afternoon light. “Speak of the Devil,” you jested, poking your tongue into your cheek as you smiled.
Jung Wooyoung peered at you from over the rim of his sunglasses as they slipped down the slope of his nose, then pushed them up to nestle in his locks of dark brown hair. “That nickname's a new one.”
“It's an expression, Jung,” you said, eyebrow arched.
He gave yet another melodramatic sigh. “And she's back to the last name-calling. Would it kill you to try a 'sweetheart’ or a 'darling’ one of these days?”
“I think Yn would rather go into cardiac arrest before calling you by your first name, mate,” Felix gave a warm laugh as he sidled up beside his friend, propping his arm up onto Wooyoung's shoulder.
You lifted your bottle of lemonade in salute. “Lix, you are not wrong. Where've you been anyways, Jung?”
“Did you hear that? She cares about my whereabouts,” he gasped in giddy delight, palm over his mouth as if he and Felix were co conspirators. “I'll have you know, Ln, that Hyunjin and I were scouting for ice cream carts, but he had a phone call to take so I came back here.”
You gave a pleasant hum, knocking back a sip of the spiked lemonade. “An ice cream cart? A man after my own heart.”
“Took you that long to notice?”
You weren't given much time to ponder on that statement before everyone's attention turned to Chan, who announced that it was finally time to eat. By some miraculous force of nature, Hyunjin heard Chan's call, too, and came barreling down the hill toward base camp a few moments later. The frisbee was laid to rest, the books were marked for later, and the bonfire was set ablaze.
With delicious eats and favored company, the lot of you gathered around with one another to have dinner and watch the sun slowly sink into the horizon line. It was the perfect cap to a long and warm summer.
A few hours later, when the sun had only just disappeared from view to leave the sky a lingering shade of hazy orange, you settled beside Lia, Chaeryeong, and Yeonjun on one side of the fire pit while Chan sat on his stool with a ukulele he kept in his backseat. (You were pretty sure that ukulele lived in his backseat at this rate. Once, you saw him buckle the thing with its own seatbelt. To each their own, you supposed.)
“So Wooyoung-ah,” drawled Changbin from his perch beside Hyunjin, as the two of them plucked chips out of the same bag, “did Hongjoong say if movie night was confirmed for next Friday?”
All eyes flickered over to Wooyoung expectantly, and you found yourself meeting his gaze as his own flitted from your eyes and back to Changbin. “I’m pretty sure we're still on for Friday, yeah. All of you better be there,” he said pointedly, his finger drawing over the group.
“What time is it again?” Yeonjun asked as he shoved a marshmallow into his cheek. You smiled to yourself and poked at it, making him send an adorable scowl your way.
Wooyoung pursed his lips. “Ah… it should start around nine o'clock. But make sure you guys text me first so I can let you in. Sometimes the pledges don't care to ask before collecting fees at the door.”
Nods and murmurs of agreement resounded from around the group. Each one of you had your own experience with getting hassled for entry fee at the ATZ fraternity door before Wooyoung or one of his frat brothers came to collect you. You remembered Felix once joking about having all of your names on a list or something.
“Ln, you're coming, aren't you?” Wooyoung nodded at you from across the bonfire. He leaned his elbows onto his knees, his fine features illuminated by the fires.
Your pulse skipped. “Hm? Oh, uhm, yeah I'm pretty sure.”
A smile curled onto his lips. “Good.”
From beside you, Yeonjun lightly smacked the back of his hand against your shoulder. “Hey, you should totally invite that guy from our Econ class—y’know from last quarter—?”
Your eyebrows creased. “Mark?”
“Who's Mark?” The question Wooyoung posed was innocent, but you couldn't help hyperfixate on the way he tilted his head and pressed his lips together.
And for some reason, you wanted to clear this up. “Mark from Econ,” you said. “He, Jun, and I used to sit with each other during class. I dunno if he'd wanna come with…” You somewhat kept in touch with Mark over the summer, but it wasn't like the two of you hung out solo or anything.
Yeonjun shoved another marshmallow into his mouth, but still spoke through it, “Mawk's cool doe. I fink he iked you.”
“Ooh, someone had a crush on you, Yn?” Hyunjin snickered.
You wrinkled your nose at him. “He did not have a crush on me; he was just nice.”
“You should invite him anyway!” Chaeryeong piped up as she leaned over you and Lia to steal a marshmallow from Yeonjun's bag. The owner of said bag watched the stolen marshmallow get swallowed whole with wide eyes. “More the merrier.”
“As long as Woo lets him in,” Felix muttered into his plastic cup so his words were slightly muffled. You didn't hear what he said, but you saw Wooyoung whack him and induce a Felix-standard fairy giggle.
You reached into Yeonjun's marshmallow bag, pretending he wasn't gawking at you with even wider eyes to guilt you into not taking his precious. “Okay, I will ask, but no promises.”
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“Who the fuck is Mark from Econ?”
San barely glanced up from what he was reading and he flipped the page to the tune of Wooyoung's rapid pacing of their shared room. “He's from Econ, I'm guessing.”
Wooyoung stopped in the middle of the open space between their beds, hands braced on their hips. He had just gotten home from the bonfire after having dropped off Hyunjin, Yeonjun, and Changbin at their apartment. When he'd arrived home to the ATZ fraternity on Greek Row, he had not been surprised to find nearly everyone still awake, even at one in the morning.
San, as always, had his nose buried in a bout of nightly reading. He claimed it helped him sleep better, but how could it if he sometimes stayed up until five in the morning because he was so invested?
“That's very helpful, thanks,” Wooyoung deadpanned.
His friend spared him a glance from over the book's edge. Then after one peak at his sorry state, San sighed and stuck an old receipt into the book to mark it for later. “Did they mention a last name? Mark who?”
Wooyoung waved his hand around. “Agh, I dunno. Yeonjun said in the car ride home something about a Mark Lee…”
San blinked, head tilting to the side in thought. “Mark Lee? Like the Mark Lee from NCT down the street?”
For a moment, Wooyoung only stared with furrowed brows, allowing the information presented to process through his brain. When it hit him, it was clear as day. He groaned, dragging his palms down his face as he plopped down on the edge of his bed. “We can't let him into Friday's movie night, Sannie.”
“And why not? He's a nice dude.”
“That is exactly why we can't let him in!” At the way San's face arranged itself into the epitome of confusion, Wooyoung waved his hands around in a manic craze. “If he gets cozy with Yn, my chances are ruined.”
San gave up; he picked up his book again. “Sounds like a skill issue.”
“Movie night? Dark setting? Sharing blankets? Fairy lights overhead?” Wooyoung flopped onto his back and glared at the ceiling. It was the perfect way to get closer to you if he could somehow make it not weird since you were almost always with one of your other friends. This could arguably be his big breakthrough with you; it had all of the makings of a romantic night… as long as everything went right.
He just needed to be absolutely sure that your feelings and his feelings were on the same page.
San sighed, the book flopping onto his lap. “Why can't you just—I don't know—insert yourself?” He made a motion with his arm, his dimples digging into his cheeks as he pressed his lips together in a deadpan, arm jutting straightforward. “Insert. Like… insert.”
Wooyoung craned his head up from his position. “Like—insert?”
“Insert,” San affirmed. “She sits down, and you sit down next to her before anyone else can. Easy.”
“So you want me to be a parasite?”
San scoffed and fixed Wooyoung with a pointed look. “If you're not going to tell her to her face that you like her—”
“Parasitism, it is!”
As the days grew closer to the ATZ frat's annual fall movie night, you had to admit that you might have been severely procrastinating on extending an invitation to Mark. Mark was, by all counts, a nice guy. He was a good guy, in fact. But it wasn't like the two of you were buddy-buddy with each other, as Yeonjun made it sound like to everyone else. It was the equivalent of your mom asking you to invite your neighbor to your birthday party—they were nice enough, but you weren't close enough to ensure this wouldn't be awkward.
Plus, you couldn't get this sticky feeling out of the back of your mind about Yeonjun claiming Mark liked you. There was no problem, per se, with a guy liking you. It was just that… you weren't interested in him like that. You also didn't want other people thinking that you were interested in him either, and getting the wrong idea.
You tried to convince yourself that you weren't interested in anyone at the moment, but you knew, deep in your heart of hearts, that wasn't true. You just didn't want to admit it. (A tragedy, indeed.)
When the first Friday night of the university term rolled around, you and your friends pulled up outside the ATZ frat house without Mark Lee. You'd admitted to them that it was awkward, so the subject was easily brushed away. There was nothing they could do about it now, anyway.
When they strolled up to the entryway, Yeonjun told the pledges at the front that they were with Wooyoung. As per protocol, they forced you all to wait outside until Wooyoung could get there from wherever he was within the house. You could hear the music thumping from the backyard, along with chatter and laughter, all from people waiting for the movie night to start.
You shivered as you hugged your arms around your body, a cool autumn breeze blowing past. “Damn, I should've brought a jacket,” you laughed, hopping around from foot to foot to stay warm. Or maybe you should've worn a sweater rather than a T-shirt over your pajama shorts.
Lia perked up. “Oh! I think I have o—”
Felix's eyes widened as he interjected, “No, you don't!”
Everyone passed Felix a strange look, especially you and Lia. Curiously, you watched as Felix seemingly communicated with Lia in silent, urgent facial expressions before smiling at you like his regular, ray-of-sunshine self.
You blinked. What in the world…?
Lia turned back toward you with an apologetic wince on her face. “I think I took my jacket out of the backseat before I left the house. Sorry, Yn.”
“Oh, that's okay,” you assured her. “I'll, uh, probably steal Chan's blanket or something once we get settled.”
Wooyoung appeared at the door moments later, a lollipop stick between his teeth and a cozy dark blue hoodie on his frame. Like many others here tonight, he was in a pair of pajama pants and fluffy slippers. “Hey guys! Come on in.”
Thankful for the excellent timing, you all slipped inside the front doors of the frat to get to the backyard. The movie night was usually held in the backyard space just because it could hold more people. The movie was then projected against the back of the house with an old projector that was apparently passed down from generation to generation of the frat. There was oftentimes a table to the side that was stocked with snacks and booze for all those attending.
Wooyoung led the group of you out into the backyard, specifically to a spot with a decent view, already laid out with picnic blankets and regular blankets. “Tada!” He exclaimed with jazz hands, catching the amused gaze of others nearby. “I reserved a spot for all of us!”
“Without permission!” Somebody—you recognized Yunho's teasing grin from over by the snack table—yelled.
“Seonghwa hyung said I could!” Wooyoung shot back in proper little sibling fashion. He stuck one of his hands into his pockets and took his lollipop out. “Anyways, help yourselves!”
“This is really cool of you, dude,” Changbin said as he bumped Wooyoung's fist and settled on one corner of the setup.
Chan hobbled over toward Changbin. “Yeah, man. We really appreciate it.”
You murmured your own thanks to Wooyoung as you passed by him to decide on where to sit.
His eyes flickered over your form, noting the way you used your palms to keep your arms warm. “Hey, Ln.”
“Jung,” you mused back.
“You didn't bring a jacket?” He asked incredulously. “It's gonna get colder tonight.”
Sheepishness washed over you and you scratched your head with an embarrassed smile. “I'll be fine under the blankets.”
He shook his head, dissatisfaction clear on his face, as he stuck his lollipop back into his mouth and began shouldering off his jacket.
Your eyes widened when you realized what he was doing. “Hey, wait—I’ll be fine—”
Wooyoung held out the jacket to you, eyebrows lifting in silent communication. 'Put it on.’
You pursed your lips and considered it for a moment. You knew that he was right and it was going to get colder later tonight. You could only bring the blanket up so far… Slowly, you slipped into it with his help, and your upper body was immediately grateful for the warmth.
Wooyoung spun you around to face him again, swiftly reaching for the zipper at the bottom to zip you up.
“Oh, you don't have to—” You shut up with one look from him. You could feel your skin begin to warm, not just because of the residual heat from Wooyoung's body heat on the jacket. You weren't exactly used to this, but you also weren't going to complain. This article of clothing smelled sinfully good—was that his cologne or how he always smelled?
When you were all zipped up, his lips pressed into a content smile. “I'm gonna go grab another jacket. I'll be right back,” he said, throwing a thumb back in the direction of the house.
Based on the fact he was only wearing a tank top underneath the jacket you now wore, you nodded vigorously. “Yeah, of course,” you stammered. “Thanks.”
His smile widened. “No problem, Yn. You look good in it.”
You didn't get another word in because he was darting across the backyard and disappearing inside the house before you could. You were sure you looked as flustered as you felt, and you slowly sank onto the blanket set up beside Chaeryeong and Lia.
From down the line, you could feel your friends’ eyes and wagging brows.
“Don't say anything,” you said to them, pulling your knees to your chest and pretending you weren't in heaven from how nice the jacket felt and smelled. (Oh god, were you being weird about this?)
A snort from Hyunjin.
Felix giggled. “Not a single word.”
By the time Wooyoung returned, Hongjoong was beginning to fire up the movie of choice tonight (Parasite—how fitting) and the backyard had been substantially populated.
Though there was no Mark Lee tonight to be a paradise about, Wooyoung settled on the other side of Chaeryeong who was right beside you. There was a bucket of popcorn per every three or so of you. You dipped into the bucket closest to you, which was the one in front of Chaeryeong.
At some point during the movie, Chaeryeong raised her head from where she was resting against your shoulder and searched the area around you. “Hey,” she whispered to you, “my friend from the Delta sorority is over there and I'm gonna go say hi.”
You nodded. “Sounds good.”
As she clambered to her feet, you met Wooyoung's eyes from her other side. He had tugged his own hood over his head, so only his bangs hung out of it. He nodded toward Chaeryeong in question: ‘Where’s she going?’
“Just a friend,” you answered quietly.
From your other side, you heard Lia make a small gasping sound. “Ooh, I'm gonna say hi, too!”
When both of them had cleared out, you craned your head around to see if you recognized the Delta they went to greet. You did not, and so you stayed put.
It didn't take long for you to realize that you were pretty sure Lia and Chaeryeong were over there for much more than a hello, which was completely fine—you were simply going to hog all of their blanket space—
A throat cleared on your left side, and you watched Wooyoung take the shared popcorn bucket and scoot over into where Chaeryeong was sitting next to you. “So we can reach easier,” he reasoned, shoveling a handful of buttered kernels into his mouth.
You couldn't and didn't argue with that. Though, you were unsure of how fast your heart was beating now that you and he were shoulder to shoulder, leg to leg.
But you turned your attention back to the movie because obviously there was nothing wrong with this. There was absolutely nothing about sitting this close to Wooyoung that was making you flustered—
You jolted when your hand touched his in the popcorn bucket, both of you having blindly reached in.
Your eyes met in the dark again, and you hoped he couldn't see just how affected you were by the touch. “Sorry,” you whispered, withdrawing your hand swiftly.
“No, it's okay,” he murmured back, a small lift in the corner of his lips. “Nothing to be sorry about.”
When the movie reached its inevitable conclusion, it was nearing midnight. Though the projector was turned off, there were plenty of people still lingering to chat and drink. You wiped your hands on a napkin and smeared on a dollop of hand sanitizer that Chan usually kept in his pocket. (The crazy man was always prepared.)
Lia and Chaeryeong eventually came back to the group, but you and Wooyoung scooted over so they could sit next to each other on your right. Your arm was still pressed to his arm, and you still kept his jacket on. It had done a brilliant job at keeping you warm tonight; you were dreading parting with it.
“Can we help you guys clean up or anything?” You asked him as you passed him Chan's bottle of hand sanitizer to use.
He hummed, “Uh, I think we should be okay. We'll probably just end up leaving half of it out to clean up in the morning anyway.”
You nodded, taking the hand sanitizer back from him so you could pass it down the assembly line to Chan.
“Oh, by the way,” Wooyoung piped up. “Whatever happened to that Mark guy you were gonna invite?”
You paused, cupping the back of your neck. “Ah… yeah, I didn't actually invite him,” you admitted. “I just thought it would be awkward 'cause we're not really that close.”
He bobbed his head in understanding. “I see, I see. So what Yeonjun said about him…?”
“Your first mistake was listening to Yeonjun.”
Two people down, you heard a squawk of indignation. “Hey! I heard that!”
A chuckle rang out amongst your group. Changbin and Chan's end of the blanket mass suddenly began standing up, the former of which was propping up a half-conscious Felix, citing needs to get the blond to bed. The rest of you wholeheartedly agreed and joined them, empty popcorn buckets in hand to deposit back at the snack table.
As soon as your bare legs hit the cold night air, you gazed forlornly at the blanket you'd been using before. “Jung, let me give you back your jacket,” you said, catching his attention before he wandered off.
But instead of waiting for you to take off the garment, he placed a hand over yours to stop you from unzipping it. “Keep it,” he said.
“Keep it?” You parroted back dumbly.
He broke into a smile. “Yeah, it'll keep you warm until you get home.”
For a moment, you could only stare. Was he always this pretty? Or was it just the fairy lights that were turned on overhead? You swallowed, your lips curling into a small smile back. “Oh okay—thanks. I'll get it back to you as soon as possible.”
“Whatever you say,” he chuckled and reached over to pat your head. The action made a jolt of warmth run down your spine from your head to your toes. Maybe you were just tired.
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Saturday night, you found yourself jostling around in the crowd of all the other late night snackers at the fast food chain a few blocks from the stadium. The first college football game of the season had just ended, and all of your friends who had gone agreed to get a bite to eat afterward. It seemed, however, that nearly everyone else at the game had the same idea.
The establishment was packed to the brim, at least the ordering area was. Your friends had gone outside to score one of the picnic benches for your group, while you, Changbin, and Felix were stuck here to order. (It was all because the three of you sorely lost a game of rock, paper, scissors, and now your wallet would pay, quite literally.) Servers behind the counter hollered out order numbers, and plastic trays of burgers, fries, milkshakes, and grease passed hands.
Your mouth was already watering; cheering and screaming for three hours was a good way to make yourself famished. “Do we have everyone's orders?” You asked your friends, sticking your head in the open space between their shoulders.
Changbin flashed you the group text. “If it's not here, they're starving.”
“Amen to that,” Felix grunted, shaking his bangs out of his eyes and scrolling through his social media fees. “I think Hyunjin and Yeonjun purposely ordered the triple cheeseburger and loaded fries to break our banks.”
“We need to watch that WikiHow video on winning rock, paper, scissors,” you said. The three of you sighed altogether—next time, you wouldn't rely on just luck to get you through something so high stakes.
“You guys look like we just lost the actual game,” mused a familiar voice behind you.
Wooyoung appeared at your side, elbow propped onto your shoulder, accompanied by a couple of his frat brothers, San and Jongho. Wooyoung had a university branded cap over his head with a pair of cherry red heart glasses seated up on the bill, a bit of school spirit in the form of black and red. “I see you lost rock, paper, scissors, Ln.”
You scowled. Of course he knew how you ended up here. After all, he was subjected to it whenever he hung out with your group of friends. “Do you wanna take over my share of the bill, Jung?”
“Do I get something in return?”
“I don't know, your jacket?”
He grinned. “Oh, so you weren't planning on just giving it back to me?”
“I will gladly keep it if you don't want it. She's in the dryer right now,” you shot back. At some point, your heart had kicked up in your chest again, perhaps at the proximity of Wooyoung to you. There wasn't much space in here as it was.
The line scooted up about two centimeters, and Wooyoung's eyebrows shot up in amusement. “You’re washing it after wearing it once? Or maybe you've been wearing it for the past twelve hours and you're just not telling me.”
You ignored the warmth creeping up your neck. “It's called being courteous.”
“It's called wasting water,” he teased, the elbow on your shoulder shifting to an arm slung around both of your shoulders.
“Oh please. It's being washed with the rest of my clothes!” You exclaimed in your defense as you grew more flustered.
Something giddy lit up on his face as the group of you moved up closer to the register. “So that jacket's gonna smell like you? I might not ever wash it again, Ln.”
It was an unholy amount of time later that you, your friends, and the frat trio finally made it out of the stuffy fast food restaurant with your massive order. Instead of a picnic bench, however, it seemed that both your friends and Wooyoung's were exiled to the curb by the street. The sight was rather laughable—around fifteen or so people seated on the firelane like a line of abandoned ducklings.
Everyone practically swarmed the to-go bags that you and your friends deposited in the grass. You picked up one of the cartons of fries for yourself, standing just outside the circle that had formed.
Mingi was recalling one of the plays from tonight's game with vivid acting when you heard your name being called from down the road.
Curious, your eyes tracked the sound, only to see a group of fraternity guys making their way towards you from the direction of Greek Row. Among them, it was Mark Lee that you recognized first in a red bomber jacket and backwards cap. His cheeks were flushed and eyes twinkled like a pair of diamond earrings.
“YN LN! IS THAT YOU?” He giggled, and you just knew that the poor guy was drunk off his face.
One of his friends with a bunny-looking face grappled onto his arm with a groan. “Sorry! He was double-dared to take one too many shots by this bastard,” he said when they neared and cut a glare to one of the tall boys behind him. Said tall boy whistled, pretending not to hear him.
Yunho cupped his hands around his mouth and gave a loud holler. “Aye, N-City! Jungwoo, where the hell have you been, man?"
“It’s called the engineering program, bro,” the one you assumed to be Jungwoo grumbled. He hobbled over to where Yunho was seated in the circle and knocked his fist against the latter's. “Oh my god, can I steal a fry? That line over there looks awful.”
Mingi lifted his tray of fries up for Jungwoo to pluck a few.
Mark, with the supervision of his bunny friend, scuttled over toward you. “Fries sound so good, dude. Like bro. BRO. I am so hungry.” He giggled again as you extended your fries out to him in amusement. “Thanks, Yn. Do I still owe you for coffee that one time?” He slurred, shoving the slices of potato into his mouth.
You chuckled, offering his friend some fries, but was quietly rejected. “Coffee? That was like, once, Mark. Don't worry about it.”
“I know, but like—like, I keep thinking about it, y'know,” he confessed. In the streetlight, you could see his cherry red cheekbones… almost the color of Wooyoung's glas—what. Where did that thought come from?
Absent-mindedly, your eyes flickered across the circle to where you knew Wooyoung was seated with his brothers. To your surprise, you found him already staring your way.
“—it’d be cool to get coffee again sometime, and be friends! I almost took the next econ class in the series 'cause of you.”
“Oh, really?” You asked, forcing yourself back to the people in front of you and being unable to suppress a giggle. You were touched by the sentiment, and frankly, relieved to hear that you and he were pretty much on the same page about being friends. “The next class in the series is kind of ass though, so I'm glad you aren't gonna have to suffer through it.”
“Aw, but we're all in this together!” He chirped.
His friend gave Mark a small pat on his arm. “We should get a move on before the crowds get worse.”
Mark's eyes widened and he gasped. “You're right, hyung!”
“See you, guys,” you said with a small wave. The two boys threw a similarly warm goodbye to you as they slipped past you and toward the jam-packed fast food joint you had braved just earlier.
Across the wide social circle, Wooyoung couldn't hear exactly what yours and Mark's conversation entailed because of all the chatter. Sue him for being caught staring at you, but he couldn't keep his eyes off you, as per usual. There was a familiar pang in his chest as he watched you bid Mark and Doyoung from the NCT fraternity goodbye, and he mindlessly finished off the tray of fries in front of him.
Although you technically implied to him last night that there was nothing between you and Mark, there was undoubtedly a part of him that still felt jittery at the thought.
There was a nudge against his arm. “Glare even harder, and Mark might wake up with a pair of holes in the back of his head.”
Wooyoung moved his scowl to San beside him, a snicker falling from his best friend's mouth. “I'm not glaring,” Wooyoung protested and reached for a napkin in the middle of the circle.
“Oh, right,” San drawled, “you're staring at Yn.”
“Yes, and?” He shot back. “What'd'you think they were talking about?” He could practically hear the sound of your giggles in his ears after Mark said something. Wooyoung didn't like the way that made his stomach churn—the fact that this other guy was making you laugh. Did he make you laugh like that? Did you look that radiant when you were with him? God, why did you have to be so gobsmackingly gorgeou—
San considered him for a moment as he chewed on the bite of his burger. “Why don't you ask her yourself?” He muttered with a vague gesture of his aioli-covered fingers, “I dunno, go offer to drive her home or something.”
“That's the first good idea I've heard all night.” Wooyoung hopped to his feet, a misshapen plan (of sorts) manifesting in his head. Hopefully it would work out better than the movie night one. (But by some metrics, he could consider movie night a success…)
San exhaled under his breath as his friend went to go find a trash can first. “Can't believe he actually went with that,” he said with a shake of his head. He could only hope now that his friend would finally put himself out of his misery.
Having finished your post-game snack, drowsiness was slowly seeping into your joints and the corners of your eyes. It was bound to be nearing midnight at this time, and with all of the excitement within the past two days, you were about ready to head back.
You swept your eyes over the group to gauge if any of your other friends looked about ready to go home, too, when you felt someone tap your shoulder.
“Can I give you a lift home?” Wooyoung asked as he stood there, cap and glasses hanging from his hand while the other carded through his hair.
Well. “It's like you read my mind, Jung,” you mused. “Do you and your brothers not usually carpool though?”
“Eh, Hongjoong hyung brought the minivan.”
You didn't know why that comment made you laugh—perhaps it was the image of a bunch of ATZ frat members shoved into a soccer mom minivan with Hongjoong at its helm—but a laugh most definitely tumbled from your lips. The sound and sight reflected in Wooyoung's expression, a boyish grin coming to his face and reaching his eyes. “Alright, fine. As long as by taking me home, you aren't abandoning them on the streets.”
The two of you began walking side by side to where he would lead you back toward wherever his car was parked. “Nah,” he reassured you with a shake of his head. He took his cherry heart glasses and slid them up into his hair. “A nice walk home might keep them humble, y'know?”
“And who's to say you don't need humbling, Jung?” You joked.
A smirk curled up on his mouth like a cat's tail. “What? Are you going to humble me, Ln?”
You gave a nonchalant shrug to cover up the rapid pulse hammering away in your veins. “I could finesse your keys, you never know.”
He motioned to the left where his sedan was parked along the side of the street. “I'll have you know that you already have one of my keys,” he said as he rounded his car to reach the driver's seat.
You crinkled your brows together, your hand lingering on the door to the passenger's seat as he fished his keys out to unlock the car. “What key?”
“The key to my heart,” he winked, smile widening.
You glanced away, tongue jamming into your cheek to suppress your flustered smile, but by the sounds of Wooyoung's glee from the other side of the car, you were unsuccessful. “You tell that to all the girls?” You finally said when the car chirped and you slipped into the passenger's seat.
Your car doors slammed in tandem.
“Nope, that one's just for you,” he said, tossing his hat in the back and starting the engine.
The fluttery feeling in your chest was making it difficult for you to sit still. If you were so enraptured by his scent clinging to the fabric of his jacket, then his car must have been level two. Your body melted into the car seat, and you turned your head to watch the world pass through the window with a content expression on your face.
There had been something gnawing at you for a while now. You knew Wooyoung boasted a rather flirty personality; he had always been pretty outgoing and teasing ever since you met. There were so many signs that pointed to him liking you more than just a friend, but you didn't want to jump to conclusions. (Denial? What was that?)
Was this different from when Yeonjun suggested that Mark liked you? Well, yes. This was different because you… it was different because this was Wooyoung, not Mark. It was different because you were suddenly marinating on the idea of him liking you, and not dismissing it like you had with Mark.
You were growing giddy at the idea, in fact. And maybe that made you nervous.
A thought appeared in your head. “Oh, I guess it's a good thing you're taking me home, because now I can give you back your jacket.” For a moment, you deeply considered casually “forgetting” to return the garment, but your integrity won out.
You saw him glance over at you before returning his eyes to the road. “Right, right. Good idea,” he murmured. He ran his teeth over his bottom lip then. “Hey, uhm, weird question.”
“Uh oh,” you joked.
He chuckled. “Yah, it's not an 'uh oh!’ I was just wondering what Mark came to talk to you about.”
Oh. That wasn't exactly what you had in mind when he said he had a weird question.
Your eyes flickered over to him for a second. “You seem awfully interested in me and Mark,” you drawled, uncertain of where this was going.
“I mean—I know you said last night that you guys aren't that close,” he supplemented, tongue swiping over his lip as he turned the corner onto your street, “but he seemed pretty friendly tonight.”
“Mark’s always friendly,” you pointed out. Part of it was just so you could prod a little and figure out why Wooyoung was pursuing this.
“You're not wrong.”
Your head tilted to the side. “So?”
“So?”
You let out a small laugh. “Hey, Jung, what's going on? You're usually not so antsy about these things, especially not with me.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek and your fingers drummed mindlessly against your thigh in anticipation.
Wooyoung glanced over at you again, his lips pressing together. He was entering your apartment complex street now and carefully pulled up along the curb outside. “I would argue that it's the complete opposite.”
“Huh?”
“You can't possibly think that this whole time I haven't been head over heels for you?” He blurted.
Even if the car had stopped, your heart rate most definitely hadn't.
At your loss for words, he killed the engine. “Like, you think I stare at you for fun? No, actually, I stare at you because I'm literally just so attracted to you, it's survival.”
You sucked in a breath. “Jung…”
“And you know, I try to be as obvious as I can, but maybe I'm not? And I'm—I’m trying to be as loud about my feelings as possible,” he continued on, adding in an accompaniment of sweeping hand gestures. “Without actually admitting to my feelings, as stupid as it sounds.”
“Jung. Jung, wait—”
“This wasn't supposed to turn into a ramble, but what I'm trying to say is—”
“Wooyoung.”
He screeched to a halt, eyes widened as if you'd just grown two heads.
Oh, you were so endeared by this man. In this snapshot of time, there was nothing other than utter adoration in your heart for him. “You were probably being very loud, but I'm also hard of hearing sometimes.”
“Extremely,” he agreed with his mouth pressed into a line.
“Hey!”
He broke into a grin that was soft at the corners and tender at the eyes. “Just so you know, I don't treat anyone else like you. You're probably the only person I will ever address by their last name as a term of endearment.”
You laughed, skin warming to the touch. “I'll admit—same here.” A jolt of electricity warmed down your spine at the admission.
“I can't persuade you to even try a 'honey’ or a ‘baby?’ Not even a 'sweetie pie?’”
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Maybe you'll unlock some of them as time goes on. It has to feel right.”
He leaned forward onto the center console, a small, happy sigh falling from his mouth. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I can deal with that.”
In reply, you twisted around in your seat to face him, your head leaned against the car seat. “Just so we're clear though…”
“I like you—I do.”
“Good.” Your lips curled into a smile. “I like you, too.”
In the low light of the car, the sky darkened and the only light coming from the streetlight a few cars away, you and Wooyoung shared a soft moment together. The thing that had been needling at the back of your mind was finally subsiding.
Swallowing, you reached forward to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes, and his eyes seemed to shudder. “Yeonjun once called you my lover boy.”
“I'm pretty sure all of our friends knew how I felt,” he snorted.
You made a small gesture with your shoulder, wincing. “Except for me?”
“Except for you,” he sighed jokingly. “Utter pain. But you know what?”
“What's that?”
“I think I like being your lover boy.”
You slowly nodded. “It has a nice ring to it.” You couldn't help another smile as you rolled it over and over in your mind. Your lover boy, your lover boy, your lover boy… “My lover boy.”
Wooyoung pressed his palms together like he was praying, his hands touching his lips. “Give me the strength—I can't not kiss you after hearing that come out of your mouth.”
Your heart gave an aggressive palpitation. “Well… I wouldn't be opposed.”
“Hey, lover girl,” he said, mouth split open with a pretty grin, “can I kiss you?”
How could you refuse?
He leaned forward and cradled one side of your face with one hand so he could press his lips against your own. If there was any doubt left in your mind about how you felt for him, it was all dashed away once he kissed you.
When your eyes fluttered open, you met his gaze.
“I think,” he murmured, thumb drawing over your bottom lip, “I just fell for you all over again.
God, how could you compete with that line? You ducked your head, unabashedly flustered. He only cooed at your reaction and came forward to smack a long kiss to your cheek.
When it was determined that you would finally head up to your apartment for the evening, you reluctantly clambered out of his vehicle. He rolled down his window so he could drape himself out of it like a damsel in a tower, his eyes shaped like hearts.
“Is it safe to say that I can keep your jacket?” You jested, stopping in front of his window.
He huffed a laugh. “You know, I thought you'd never ask. But you'll have to trade me for something of yours.”
“Deal, Jung.” You were certain you could think of something.
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a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed <3
atz m.list
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @synthwxve @atzhouse @kflixnet
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halesandy · 5 days
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hello!! ive been reading all your skz fake texts and im LOVING it. i saw ateez on your bio but im not sure if you write for them too, i wonder if you can make a fake text of jealous bsf!yunho confessing his feelings?? 😔🙏😔
sorry this took forever to get to!! but what better time to fulfill this request than on his birthday 😌 enjoy!! 💕
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masterlist
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halesandy · 5 days
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Can you plsss write something about the reader not touching her bf bc she's worried that he might be embarrassed about her or that he will feel like she's too clingy? But he's like wtf no i want you to touch me all the time etc etc. Idk if this makes sense i just have this thing where i never touch ppl, even my best friends cuz im scared they'll hate it and i'm trying to get over it bc its kinda stupid so yeah
Sorry this has taken me a while but im pretty happy w how they came out. I hope you like them 🥺
When you don't touch them
Masterlist
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halesandy · 6 days
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#PerformanceLeaderYUNHO happy birthday our sunshine ♡ thank you for being born and thank you for always being our happiness ♡
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halesandy · 6 days
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— Seonghwa 😩 he's so pretty jfc
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halesandy · 6 days
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ATEEZ REACTION TO THEIR S/O's CHILD CALLING THEM DAD FOR THE FIRST TIME
trigger warnings: assault, partner death, implied violence by ex, a smidge of dark humor
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Hongjoong
Hongjoong had been cautious at first when he met your daughter, not knowing if he'd ever be enough to live up to the standards your late husband set. You told him multiple times that he was enough and you were so lucky to have found him. He treated your daughter so carefully and gently, always being kind and sweet to her.
Your daughter was only two when her father passed so she doesn't have any real memories of him, she only knows stories. You know Hongjoong feels guilty of taking in his place sometimes but you're sure it's what he would have wanted.
And now you're standing beside Hongjoong in your daughters' classroom, watching her talk about her school project. Her teacher listens intently with a big smile. You loved to hear her ramble on. She never knew when to stop talking but you loved that about her. ''Teacher! Look this is my mom and that's dad! But he's not my dad because my dad's dead. But he's my new dad! And he's really sweet, and he has painted nails. He's cool. So he's my dad now.''
Hongjoong's eyes were wide and he looked at her, taking her hand. ''You really want me to be your dad? You've never called me that before,'' he smiled. ''Of course you're my dad, you and mom do what parents do~ I know that when you go to bed-''
''Okay that's enough out of you!'' you yelled, stopping her from saying anything to embarrass you, but Hongjoong was just laughing, happier than ever.
Seonghwa
''Look! I finished the drawing!''
Your five year old son ran towards you and Seonghwa sitting on the couch and proudly showed off his drawing of a dog. It was a bit crooked but your son took drawing so seriously and you were happy he was learning. Before you could say anything Seonghwa gasped audibly and clapped his hands. ''That's so good Y/S/N! You're so good at that! I am jealous.''
''Thank you, dad!'' he said before running off again, going back to drawing on his little desk. You and Seonghwa were left speechless, looking at each other while tears filled Seonghwa's eyes. Your smile grew wider and wider and you hugged him tight. ''He called me dad,'' he whispered and smiled as a tear fell from his cheek, ''Aren't I the luckiest dad in the world?''
Yunho
''Go, Go, Go! Get him now!''
Yunho was cheering your son on as he was nearly scoring a goal during his football match. When he scored Yunho jumped so high he was nearly flying and immediately your son was running over to you and him. You pulled him into your arms and kissed his head. ''I'm so proud of you, baby!'' You exclaimed. Yunho gave him another peptalk before sending him back.
When the game ended he was over the moon because his team won and you and Yunho were beaming with pride. ''I'm so proud of you kiddo,'' he smiled as he ruffled his hair. ''Thank you dad, I'm so happy you could come with mom today!''
He gasped softly and broke out in laughter, lifting him up and holding him. ''I'm very to be here too, kid, your mom and I will treat you on a big burger now, how does that sound?''
Yeosang
You and Yeosang were seated at the dining table when you suddenly heard a cry from the garden. You looked up and looked through the window to find your little boy on his knees, tears on his cheeks. Yeosang immediately got up and sprinted towards him. ''Hey, little buddy, what's up? What's wrong?''
''I fell,'' he cried, pointing at some kind of toy he must have tripped over. Yeosang pulled your son into his arms and lifted him up, inspecting the scratch on his leg. ''Ooh, it only needs a little kiss for it to heal. You'll be fine, I promise,'' he smiled as he pressed a kiss down on it. ''All better now, hm?'' Your son dried his cheeks and nodded. ''Thanks dad,'' he said as he hugged him. Yeosang froze for a second but felt his heart fill with warmth.
When he put your son down to play again he ran back inside to tell you about the moment they just had and you had never seen Yeosang this excited before.
San
Your four year old daughter was quite shy so you were more than surprised when she easily opened up to him, showing him her toys and talking to him non-stop. It didn't take long before she climbed into his lap and asked for cuddles every time he was around.
''Are you my new daddy now?'' she asked, her big and round eyes looking up at him intently. San was taken aback a little bit, thinking before he said anything. ''Do you want me to be?''
She nodded and laid her head on his chest. ''Yes, I like being with daddy~'' You smiled and snuggled up to them as well and San held you close, embracing you with his big and strong arms. ''My favourite girls...'' he cooed when you were dozing off. He kissed your heads gently and held you tight.
Mingi
You and Mingi had been dating for a while already and he was very good with your twin daughters, treating them with love and gentleness. He spoiled them rotten, something you told him not to but Mingi just cannot hold back when it comes to his favourite girls.
Today he decided to take you to a big themepark, paying for all the costs voluntarily. You kissed him and thanked him while you watched your five year olds scream about all the rides they were gonna get on.
''Mom, mom, mom can I have cotton candy when we get there?'' the youngest exclaimed from the back of the car. ''I don't know, I'm not paying today,'' you grinned. ''Dad, pleaaaase? Dad, I want cotton candy!'' ''Me too, dad, me too!''
Mingi was taken aback when he heard your girls call him dad for the first time, but the smile on his face grew wide. ''What did you girls say?'' ''Can we pleaaaase have cotton candy, dad?'' they asked simultaneously. He grinned and nodded, ''You sure can.''
Wooyoung
You had been feeling sick all day and you've called Wooyoung to help take care of your daughter together but instead he ordered you to lay in bed and he was seated on the couch with her.
''What's wrong with mommy?'' she asked as she ate her freshly baked chocolate chip cookie. ''Mommy has a really big headache so she has to lay in bed today and sleep a lot. Because then she will get better,'' Wooyoung explained as he braids her long hair.
''So she'll be okay?'' ''Of course she'll be okay, nothing's gonna happen to her. And I'm here to take care of you both, okay?'' She nodded and took another bite of her cookie. She looked up at him again. ''What is it honey?''
''You and mommy are in love right?'' ''Yeah, that's right,'' Wooyoung nodded. ''Are you my new daddy then? Because you're a pair, right?'' Wooyoung smiled softly and nodded. ''I think I am... But only if you allow me to be. Am I your dad then, Y/D/N?'' She nodded and smiled. ''Good,'' he kissed her head, ''I'll be your dad, honey, don't worry. You'll always have me. I'll take good care of you.''
Jongho
You were eating pasta and drinking wine with Jongho when you heard your son cry from upstairs. ''Ah, again?'' you sighed. You had been worried for weeks because he kept getting nightmares about his biological dad, who didn't treat you right. When you left you realized the impact it had on Y/S/N and the amount of nightmares he was having lately were scaring you.
''I'll go to see him, maybe I can calm him down,'' Jongho said, kissing your head and making his way towards your son's room. He knocked on the door softly and stepped in. ''Hey there... We heard you crying, what seems to be the problem?'' ''N-Nightmare,'' he said, hiccuping as he tried to dry his tears, but they kept streaming down his cheeks.
Jongho lifted him up and hugged him tight. ''It's okay, sweetheart, they aren't real, okay? Your mom and I are right downstairs, protecting you, there's nothing to be scared of, I promise you.'' Your son nodded slowly and hugged him. ''I love you dad,'' he whispered. Jongho carressed his hair gently and smiled. ''Am I dad?'' ''Yes... I like having you as my dad,'' he spoke softly. ''Then I'm dad, son.''
Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @wh0re4yunsangho @vesvosmozhno
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halesandy · 6 days
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streets [c.san]
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₊˚.༄ || filth valentines m.list || hongjoong || seonghwa || yunho || yeosang || san || mingi || wooyoung || jongho || ₊˚.༄
₊˚.༄ We real life made for each other And it's hard to keep my cool ₊˚.༄
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"it's getting late, do you have someone to pick you up?" your head turn towards san, still in his uniform. his face mask were pulled down just below his bottom lip, emphasizing his cheeks; it made you want to squish his cheeks from being so innocent.
san was one of your fellow nurses. The crisp navy-blue scrubs fit him perfectly, the name tag reading "San Choi, RN" gleaming under the fluorescent lights. you cleared your throat; your heart was beating too loud for you that it hurts to taint this uncorrupted soul. you have hint after hint of crush on this man, this huge ass man that his face does not match his enormous body that you totally found yourself completely hidden.
proved when you stood behind him once and when you say, disappeared.
abracadabra, bitch not even a strand of hair can be seen.
"ah well i actually have somewhere to be ... what about you?" san looks at his watch, sighing, brushing his hair off his eyes, "my friend said he'll pick me up but he had an emergency call from his dad's company so now I have to wait for a bus..."
you frown looking at your watch too, its 10pm. Usually buses don't take this route anymore, "buses aren't available in this hour, san."
his heart fell on his stomach, double checking his watch, "damn it!" your eyes widen at his sudden burst of profanity. his eyes widen too and apologizing to you, "i'm sorry didn't mean to."
your lips curled up in a teasing smile, "your patient would not like it if she heard that one." San shakes his head laughing lightly. the small silence engulfs you both before you had an idea which will be a torture for you.
probably a torture for him too.
San was already an intern at a prestigious hospital near his family's home; owned by his grandfather though he is expecting him that he will continue his service even after his internship.
but when San came by a hospital that one of his friends were admitted after being confined. He found himself stuck on the reception area as his eyes were glued to your figure, up on hospital trolley, shouting dose of pharmaceutical. Your determine look and perseverance on your career what intrigued him to know you more.
so he left his family hospital.
San is pediatrician and so do you, the amount of love he gives on these children what also intrigued you in getting to know the man that suddenly left the hospital that you were trying to apply.
"hey i can give you a ride?" you mention, his ear perk up and reddens. his heart thumps inside his chest all of a sudden, "i-i .."
upon realizing what you said, your eyes once again widen and stutter out excuses, "oh my gosh! i - this is embarrassing, God take me!" you groan, covering your face.
for a while San chuckles at your reaction, composing himself, "I know you don't mean any harm but if you're going to drop me off then i hope i'm not delaying any of your plans."
When San agrees about you giving him a ride, he meant to be able to relax on the passenger seat.
He stares at the glaring matte black with gold flames on the Kawasaki Ninja 400R. That is one of the motorbikes he wishes to own and drive but because of his independence, San is still saving up.
"Holy .." You look at San as you place the glove tightly on your hand, "hmm?" Clueless on his reaction, you swing your leg over the bike, reviving the engine on and tune in the smoky sound of the engine of your bike.
San stares in awe as you hand him (set of embarrassment hue on your cheeks) a customized helmet. It has kitty ear with soft peach color as parallel of the inside of the ear.
"this is so cute." when he puts in the helmet, it dawned on him. You, arch back, hunch forward and him behind you, holding on tightly. His ears were once again red, frozen in place; his mind racing the same speed as your bike with filthy thoughts.
Like how could he not? Your ass is probably close to his (now) stiffening cock in his scrubs when he jumps in. the way it would keep brushing on his cock would probably have him cumming there.
"San? you okay?" You haven't feel the pressure or the weight on your back, so you turn your attention on San; standing with an incredible thickening boner in his scrubs, if it weren't for the eye shield of your helmet, he would seen you checking him out.
Or worse, staring at his firm boner.
San snap out of his thoughts and hurriedly swing his legs over the other side of the bike, after settling down on the leather seat. "You okay? Do you need-"
"Let's just go." San spoke clearing his throat and immediatly feels bad for brushing your concerns off, you understood why.
Without speaking much, you note that San would not hold on to you because of his hard situation so you did the initiative to grab his hands, in which he was taken back, and wrap them around your waist; patting his hand, "Mind you that it's night and I'll be taking advantage of the road."
You look over at San, "don't worry, I'll slow down if its too much." So without delaying much of your guys time, you kick off the stand and off both of you on the streets. San calling whatever can answer them make this ride, a comfortable one.
to say the least, no one grant his calls.
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"u-Ugh f-ufuck chakaman!" San gasp, holding on to the mop of hair on the level of his hips while gripping his scrub up on his chest in his other hand—exposing his toned stomach, his scrub pants pooled on the floor. Your tousled hair, lips wrapped around his aching cock left him gripping the leather seat of your motorbike as you continued swirling your tongue on his red tip. San cried, bucking his hips when you took all of him; fitting him in your mouth up til’ his tip hitting the back of your throat.
 You hum to accumulate more of his climax, which in your satisfaction made San whimper thrusting his hips in your mouth, “f-fuck …” Shamelessly, he started fucking your throat as his climax were nearing and sooner, his cum spurted on your tongue and down your throat. You pull away from him, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to let him see that you have collected some of his cum before swallowing them.
  You gave him a smile before licking your salty lips, standing up proceeding to remove your leather pants; letting them rest on your knees along with your undies. You turn your head over to look at him with a smirk on your lips, bending moderately for him to see your puckered glistening hole with a small help of one of your hands to spread your cheek.
 “I know you want to get your dick wet, come on baby.” San’s eye twitch the moment you provoke him and have to look around the cleared parking spot you parked on and had him spitting his fingers and run them up and down your puffy cunt before grabbing his semi-hard dick and tap his tip on your hole; wiggling your asscheeks for him to provoke him more which he took the cue and slam his hips on yours.
You were quite taken back, his hips pace was something you were wondering if he has his dick wet a few times or he has this speed that you were looking for; nevertheless it had you moaning his name as his tip kept nudging. You rolled your hips each time he pulls away, leaving the tip then slamming back inside, “Fu-fuck Sannie— that’s so good! Right there!”
San’s hand crept down towards your clit, circling them rapidly and increasing the pleasure and the coil on your stomach, “You like that? You dirty dirty girl.” San stops circling his fingers around your clit and let you bend over your motorcycle as his hips snaps swiftly, placing the hem of his scrubs between his teeth as his hands knead the flesh of your hips then to your plump ass, spreading them as he watch his dick disappear inside your hole; a ring of your slick making him moan in his scrubs.
“Shit shit!” You cursed, lewd noises echoing the silent parking lot increase the arousal on your stomach, the fire of desire as San rapidly ram himself until you feel your thighs shake, “I’m g-gonna cum!” San drops the cloth and bent over to your ear, “Then make yourself a mess on my dick baby.” 
That it all took before you had a long string of ‘fuck’ leaving your lips as your orgasm washed over you, eyes fluterring close hips moving to chase your high. You felt San’s hand clasp around your hips and his broken moans reach your ears, “I don’t care if you’re on the pill or not but me? Get you knocked up? It’s been a fantasy of mine.”
His seeds spurted your walls, bucking a deeper part of your pussy. His hips halted as he let every drop of his cum stay inside you before pulling out, a whine left your lips but soon replaced by a yelp as San smacked your ass in his palm before placing your panties and your pants back on, “It’s cold and besides …” You turn around, he brushes hair away from your sweaty face, “I don’t want you wasting what we work hard on.”
Your cheeks flared, “You must have thought of this ‘fantasy of yours for a while now eh?” San shakes his head, a smile on his lips; securing his boxers and scrub pants back on before leaning on your motorcycle, shrugging, “Maybe but I should have taken you on a date first before I knock you up.”
You whine, smacking his arms, “Stop using that term.” San’s head threw back as he laughed at your reddened face, you groaned turning your head to the side. He stops laughing little by little before sighing, grabbing your hand; pulling you between his legs, “But it’s true. I had it all planned and there’s a step by step to it … but it looks like I skipped a step.”
You look at him, pouty lips, “a lot you mean.” He chuckles heartedly, grabbing your cheeks in his large palms, caressing them, “Okay a lot but it doesn’t mean I ain’t gonna take care of you. Let me praise you, love you, worship you and let me do those things because it is my duty to make you feel special and I want you to feel you are the only girl in this damn world. You’re my girl.”
You were left speechless and San saw in your eyes the appreciation, pulling you in his arms, “I’ll kiss you after our fourth date.”
“Why not now? You already got me knocked up and we are not even on our first date.” He chuckles and this is one of the reasons why he likes you; nonchalant or straightforward. He nodded, “Okay.” He pulls you in near his warmth, his lips landing gently on yours. He took the lead to make you feel special, make you feel the most important person to him.
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halesandy · 6 days
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𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧
nonidol!choi san x gn!reader (no prns mentioned)
turns out your upstairs neighbor has a cat who adores climbing through your window — oh, and said neighbor is also fine as hell.
3.7k words, neighbors au (2 lovers), fluff, maybe like two swear words, drinking, lots of mentions of food
a/n: low-key just read this like ur watching the highlight reel of a romcom lol but @jaehunnyy for u 💖 i hope u like it :'))
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It all started about seven months ago when a gorgeous Thai cat waltzed into your apartment via the open window. It was a late July afternoon, stifling hot and sticky, meaning you had your window opened and the mobile fan set up to blow cool air into the apartment.
You were, for once, not at work. Because the art museum you worked at downtown was currently undergoing reconstruction, you were stuck in your apartment trying (failing) to sell prints off your low-traffic Etsy shop while also trying (failing) to make popsicles.
“Why is this so complicated?” You grumbled aloud as you sat on top of your kitchen counter with your knees pulled beneath your chin. You scrolled down the recipe again on your laptop screen, nose wrinkled at the amount of convoluted steps listed. “Too fancy,” you decided, slamming your laptop lid closed.
Immediately, you hissed, lifting the lid to make sure you hadn't cracked the screen from closing it too hard. Thankfully, there were no cracks visible and you breathed out a sigh of relief. You could not afford a broken—
“Holy shit!” You nearly fell off the back of the island counter at the sight of a light gray cat with black tipped ears, paws, and tail seated on the floor before you.
The cat meowed an innocent greeting.
You pressed your hand to your hammering heart and shifted to get a grip on your position atop the counter. “How—? Where…?” Your eyes drifted to the open window.
Oh. Well, that would explain it.
You glanced back at the cat, who peered up at you once more. “Meow.”
Carefully, you climbed down from the counter as to not scare the creature with any sudden movements. “Hey, baby. Where did you come from, hm?” You cooed, extending your hand out as an offer to be sniffed.
The cat unfurled its tail out from around its body and crept toward your hand. With an experimental sniff, you were deemed safe, and the cat rubbed the side of its face affectionately against the back of your knuckles.
Your chest nearly exploded from the cute interaction. You lowered yourself to your knees, gently taking a peek at the silver charm attached around the collar. There you found the engraving of a star in the metal circle.
“I'm guessing this has something to do with your name?” You hummed, reaching up to scratch the feline behind the ears and head. At least you had an inkling that this little one belonged to someone. You just didn't know how to find out who they were.
“I guess you can hang out with me,” you sighed and stood up with your hands on your hips. You didn't mind the company, after all, and maybe this could be a point of inspiration.
About three hours later, the summer sun still hung relatively high in the sky and you were trying to figure out what to feed the cat when there came a sudden knock at your front door. Really, the “sudden knock” was a series of rushed, panicked DUDUDUDU sounds. You nearly jumped out of your skin for the second time in one afternoon, and even the cat seemed to leap.
Well, the cat only looked mildly annoyed that her nap was interrupted, but she seemed content to give a languid stretch and join you in seeing who was so alarmed at your door.
When you peered out the peephole, your eyes shot open.
There was a pretty man at your door.
You glanced down at the cat who looked back up at you. You mouthed to her, pointing at the door, ‘Do you know this guy?’
As expected, she did not answer. Lovely.
You weren't exactly in appropriate garb to see people. You had thrown on something cool enough to not make you melt like one of the popsicles you weren't able to make earlier, and enough to cover any necessary areas. You were sure your hair looked about as luxurious as a barn, and there wasn't a lick of cosmetics on your face.
It was fine, you told yourself. You probably weren't even going to see this guy ever again.
You opened the door. “Hello? Can I help you?” You asked through the chain linking the door shut.
The man flashed you a flustered, dimpled smile at you. His dark hair was damp, like he just came out of a shower, and he had on a muscle tee that was definitely doing its job, and a pair of basketball shorts. “Hi! So sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you've seen a Thai cat wandering around here about yea high—?”
“Meow.” The cat at your feet shoved her way between the gap you made with the door and out into the hallway.
Your eyes widened another smidge, until the man outside released a gasp of relief and bent down to scoop the feline up into his arms. You unlatched your door and opened it fully now, the man holding the cat to his face as if he was communicating with her telepathically.
“That's the cat, I'm guessing?” You mused.
He tucked her back into his arm and his smile became sheepish. “Yes, I am so sorry about her. I came back home from work and she wasn't in the apartment, but thank you for dealing with her for however long she was here.”
You waved off his concern with your hand, sending him a kind smile. “Don’t worry about it, really. She's adorable. What's her name, by the way?”
“Oh, this is Byeol,” he cooed, lifting Byeol's paw up to wave at you.
Swoon. Your smile widened as you waved back at them both. “Well, it was nice to meet you, both Byeol and…?”
“San,” he answered. God, he was gorgeous. That smile… “And you are?”
“Yn.” You shook each other's hands in the dim hallway light.
“Nice to meet you, too, Yn.” He lit up, pointing up to the ceiling. “Hey, I'm pretty sure I'm your upstairs neighbor!”
You opened the door to your apartment wider so you could show him your open window. “Well, that would definitely explain how she got down onto my fire escape,” you chuckled.
He whistled lowly. “Man, cats are scary sometimes. I'll definitely try to keep an eye on whenever she's near my window now.” He ran the back of his knuckles down Byeol's spine. “I don't wanna take up any more of your time, but thanks again.”
“No worries! Have a nice night.”
“You too!”
San began walking back toward the stairs at the end of the hallway, and you were about to close the door when you thought you heard him chastising his cat in hushed tones. You laughed to yourself as you locked up your front door. You wouldn't mind if Byeol came traipsing down your fire escape again.
And she would. About three times a week when San had a later shift at the boxing gym he worked at (yes, a boxing gym… good lord). Byeol oftentimes expected you to have your window open, and if you didn't already have it open, she would sit out on the fire escape until you did.
Two months into the fire escape escapades, you gave up and left the window open just enough for her to squeeze through while you returned to work.
San would always come down to your apartment to retrieve her, and at some point, decided to swing by your apartment on his way up instead just to make sure she wasn't already here.
By month four when the days were shorter and the nights dragged longer and colder, you couldn't exactly keep the window open, lest you wanted to freeze your ass off in the safety of your apartment. Byeol would hop down the fire escape in the evenings when you were back so you could let her in, only for her owner to come barreling down the stairs, dimpled cheeks flushed and exasperated.
“I swear she likes you more than me,” he guffawed from where he stood out in the hallway as he always did. He shook his head as he watched the Thai feline waltz around his legs once, then circle back into your apartment. He arched a brow at her. “Look at her strutting. She knows exactly what she's doing.”
You swore there was a dash of red gracing his cheekbones now.
You bit your lip through a smile. “Well, you're welcome to come in. I was just about to eat dinner and I don't really think I can finish this roast chicken alone.”
“Ah, I don't really wanna impose,” he drawled, scratching the back of his neck and peering at you from beneath those lengthy lashes of his. He knew what he was doing—he had to know what he was doing. If Byeol could strut, then so could Choi San.
He promised to take you up on your offer as long as you let him run upstairs to grab a bottle of wine to contribute.
The last thing you expected to happen was to hear a knock on your window less than ten minutes later. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound, folding over in laughter when you saw him waving to you on the other side with cold-bitten cheeks and a red-tipped nose. He clutched a bottle of red in one hand and gestured furiously to the window latch. “It's fucking freezing!”
“Okay, okay,” you grinned, walking over to let him inside. “Just so you know,” you said as Byeol welcomed her owner into your apartment, “usually it's just cats who come in this way.”
“Well, you might have to get used to a cat and a human coming in now,” he teased. San presented you the wine bottle with a flourish. “Milady, your beverage.”
“Why, thank you, good sir,” you jested and accepted the offering. “Make yourself at home!”
What you didn't expect was for such a statement to be taken so literally, and yet, you had no complaints.
Three months further along—making it seven in total since that first hot July day Byeol came in through the open window—you and San (and Byeol) were cooped up in your apartment as usual. It was a Friday night with dinner on the table, a TV show playing in the background, and a pair of wine glasses for the pair of you. Over the past few months, sharing a dinner together had become a weekly event wherein San would come in via window, and the two of you would have the evening together.
Sometimes it was just dinner, sometimes it was dinner and a movie, and sometimes it was even dinner, a movie, and drunk Pictionary. But every Friday night was yours and San's night.
Plus, he turned out to be a much better cook, so you definitely couldn't argue when he somehow wrestled his entire Le Creuset pot down the fire escape to feed you the most divine lobster mac 'n’ cheese you had ever tasted. (As if you'd ever had lobster mac 'n’ cheese before…)
“I feel like it would just be more convenient if I came up to your apartment instead,” you said with enthusiasm, your free arm flailing around as you melted dark chocolate on a double boiler upon the stove top. While San had the right side of the stove for his chicken and gnocchi soup, you had the left to prepare tonight's mousse for dessert. If San made dinner, you figured you could at least learn a thing or two about a dessert course.
He chuckled, “I mean, I'm not opposed if you ever get tired of hosting. I'm kind of a creature of habit though, which is why I don't mind coming down every week, but it's up to you, sweets.”
Oh, right. And the nickname. You couldn't even pinpoint when that started, but again, you weren't complaining.
“I don't mind hosting either,” you told him, “it's just that it's either you leave your super expensive cookware here or I go upstairs. I don't think Le Creuset has fire escape insurance.”
“You're not wrong about that.” You felt his hand gently brush against your waist as he slipped past you to get to the spice cabinet on your left. “Behind you,” he murmured by your ear before grabbing the jar of Himalayan salt (also his) and returning to his station behind his pot.
You couldn't deny the pitter-patter of your heart around him either. Things were coming to a point that you didn't know how to label. But perhaps that was the beauty of everything slipping into place. You carried on, “I think I've seen your apartment once, and that was when Byeol wouldn't stop meowing until I followed you guys.” You laughed to yourself at the memory. That had been an interesting night.
“If it's any consolation, your apartment has much more life in it than mine.”
“That's a lie,” you said pointedly. “Yours is just more meticulous.”
He snorted. “Meticulous. Might as well be as barren as a clinic.”
You passed him a glance. “I offered to paint your walls…”
San beamed back at you, dimples creating divots in the apples of his cheeks. “And I never said no! But—I do think that it should be something the both of us do together.”
Your brows creased as you took the chocolate off the stove to fold into the other mixture you'd set aside. “You wanna paint with me?”
“Yeah,” he said, almost bashfully. “I think it'd be a fun bonding and learning experience. And it would be cool to see you in your element, besides when you're drunk.”
The latter comment had you turning away to laugh. “Fair enough.”
When dinner was ready to be dined, and the mousse was freezing in the fridge, you and San sat at the kitchen island with your matching bowls of hot soup and glasses of lemon water for the night. Neither of you had remembered to buy wine for the week (surprisingly), but one week without alcohol wouldn't hurt.
The two of you clinked your glasses together, toasting to another week survived.
You took a sip, then spooned the soup into your mouth, wiggling around on your stool in a little happy dance as the flavors did their own dance on your tongue.
San smiled around his own bite. He swallowed, then said, “You know, I always know I did well when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“That cute little dance,” he chuckled. “I’m glad it tastes good, is what I'm saying, sweets.”
Your skin warmed, and you managed to convince yourself it was the soup or the heater or something and not the beautiful man beside you. “Then get used to the happy jig, because everything you cook tastes divine. You should be a chef, San.”
“I could've,” he shrugged, “but I kind of like this little life.” He gestured to you with his spoon, a twinkle in his eyes. “Don't you?”
For a moment, you let the smile slowly unfurl onto your lips. You lifted your own spoon in agreement. “You're right. It's a lovely, little life.”
Now that you were in agreement, you fell into a comfortable silence as you both enjoyed your dinner in one another's presence. Byeol was hunched over her own bowl of food just by the foot of your stool, against the adjacent side of the island. You'd gone out and bought her a pair of food and water bowls, as well as her preferred food. San had been touched by the gesture, and Byeol most definitely appreciated it.
San wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Oh, by the way, next week.”
You hummed. “What about it?”
“Are you doing anything?”
You perked up, eyebrows lifting to your hairline. “Why do you ask?” It was usually unsaid by now that Friday nights were set aside for the two of you to share an evening, which was why you were confused by his question.
And then he explained, “It's Valentine's Day, so I just wanted to make sure I didn't interrupt or assume anything.” He'd said it so casually and easily that you nearly missed the slight nervousness in his voice, or the minor intonation of hope. “I mean,” he fumbled, “if you do have something planned, then it's no worries, really. There are plenty of other weeks—”
You shook your head, finishing off your water after having scraped your bowl clean. “I'm not doing anything,” you said. “Well, besides what we usually do.” You chuckled to yourself, “To be honest, Valentine's Day completely slipped my mind this year.”
And if you were truly being honest with yourself, every Friday felt like Valent—no. You shouldn't think like that. It would only make things worse about how you felt for him now. Plus, these past few months with San felt far too casual, too domestic, to be like Valentine's Day. Was Valentine's Day not for grand gestures and romance? This wasn't grand… though, you could probably argue about the romantic part…
“No, I feel the same way,” he nodded. “My friend Wooyoung just asked today if I was up to go to a single's party, which was why I suddenly remembered.”
Ah. “Oh, are you planning on going?” Wine sounded pretty good right about now.
He grimaced. “Probably not. I—I was kind of hoping you wanted to still do dinner next week—but, like, it doesn't have to mean anything besides how it usually is. If that's what you're comfortable with.”
It doesn't have to mean anything besides how it usually is. What if you wanted it to mean more than how it usually was? There was nothing inherently wrong with how it usually was, but you couldn't deny that a part of you yearned for more. That part of you imagined what it was like if San didn't have to come see you via fire escape, and he was always in the same space as you.
There was a pause as you wrestled with your own conscience about how or if you were going to admit it to him.
He pressed his lips together. “I've made you uncomfortable.”
“No, you haven't made me uncomfortable,” you assured him swiftly. “I just…” You sighed, pressing a hand to your forehead then returning it to your lap. “Of course, I would love to have dinner with you next week, but I’d like it to mean something else—if you are comfortable with that.”
You watched as that beautiful smile you'd come to grow more fond of blossom onto his face. “I'd be more than comfortable with that—I’d be really happy with that, actually.”
“Good,” you said softly, unable to bite your own smile away. “Then dinner next week, it is.”
There was something fundamentally different about this next Friday night compared to the others. Specifically, the context by which you and San went into the Friday evening of Valentine's Day was completely different. The apartment was aglow with the same warmth as it usually boasted, but there was a bouquet of blood red roses in a glass vase on the kitchen counter beside a bottle of red wine.
San was at the stove, finishing off the last bit for dinner before it needed to simmer for a good thirty minutes. You were in the living room portion of your apartment, flipping through the vinyl records to play before you pulled one out and set it up. As you moved the needle onto the record, you placed the empty cover back into its slot and turned toward the kitchen.
You froze in your spot, skin warming at the sight of San leaning over the island counter with an adoring look in his eyes as he watched you. “What?” You laughed, subconsciously adjusting the sleeve of your blouse.
“Nothing,” he smiled. “You're just—you’re gorgeous.”
You were sure if your face didn't give it away, there must have at least been hearts floating around your head. “You cannot just say that,” you chided weakly as you walked over to where he was, your expression growing shy.
His smile widened and he rounded the counter to stand in front of you, your back pressed against the edge of the counter. “I can, too,” he teased. He stepped back once and held his arms out, fingers flicking toward him to beckon you forward. “C'mere. Can you dance?”
“Some.” Your eyebrows arched upward as you stepped forward and took his hands in yours. “Dancing and romancing, Choi San? What magic do you hope to enchant me with tonight?” You joked, moving your left hand to his shoulder.
“Perhaps magic that will leave your window open for me on nights other than Fridays,” he said sheepishly as the two of you began to sway to the music waltzing out from the record player. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your fire escape—”
You let out a laugh, ducking your head toward your chests. He did the same, an embarrassed grin coming onto his face as his nose nudged against yours.
“That was god awful,” he winced in apology.
“It was,” you agreed teasingly, “but I'll let it slide because you're cute.”
He shot you a bright smile. “Oh? So I'm cute? I guess that makes two of us.”
You weren't really sure at what point you realized you had fallen for this man. It was sometime between the Himalayan salt lectures and the dancing like an old married couple in your kitchen, maybe. You thought about the day he showed up at your door panicking about a missing cat, and to a future where you might have found yourself in his living room painting murals on his walls. Or perhaps… not his living room, but both of yours.
As you danced with your chests pressed together, hearts beating rapidly in sync, you gazed into those beautiful, dark brown irises of his and sank further and further into those feelings. They were gradually making themselves a home in your chest.
“What're you thinking about, sweets?” He murmured as you tucked your head against his shoulder and the arm he had around your waist rubbed the small of your back.
The smell of his cologne made you inhale deeply. You could get used to this—his smell, the feel of his body under your fingertips, his presence intertwined with yours taking up space in the best possible way. “I'm thinking that Byeol is a good matchmaker.”
His chuckle rumbled through him and softly into your ear. “You're definitely right about that.”
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a/n: pls remember to reblog and comment if u enjoyed!
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halesandy · 6 days
Text
can’t get you off my mind
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all good love stories start with a drunk stranger, don’t they?
warnings: mentions of alcohol, fem!reader
genre: fluff, comfort
word count: 4k
it starts at a bar. 
or really, it starts with a man at a bar. one that you’ve seen before in passing, a familiar face in a sea of more familiar faces. someone who you’ll later learn is one third of your best friend changbin’s production team, someone who you should have met years ago probably, someone who you would find is the perfect puzzle piece that fits into your jagged edges.
but right now, he is just a man at a bar with a beer in hand and a ridiculously dopey smile on his face. 
“marry me, please,” he says, absolutely serious but it’s a bit diluted from the way his words were slurred around the edges. “or i’ll have to kidnap you.”
“excuse me?” you raise a brow at him, his image swimming a bit as you turn your head to fully take him in. you’re not drunk, but youre a couple glasses of wine deep and you’re not known for being fully articulate whilst sober anyways. 
“i swear i’m going to marry you,” he says, eyes wide as he looks at you. “you might be the most perfect person i’ve ever seen.”
you’re not overly fond of men you haven’t met hitting on you, but this one seems a bit harmless. if you ignored the part where he said he would kidnap you. at least he wasn’t grabbing onto you or trying to touch you - that would have sent your fist flying towards his face and probably a swift exit from the bar. it was a little weird that you didn’t find him weird, but in retrospect you must have known, even then. 
“okay, listen,” you put your hands on your hips, giving him an unimpressed look. “if you find me when you’re sober, ask me again and maybe i’ll reconsider.”
“okay,” he nods, hair moving along with his movement like a puppy’s ears. “i can do that. i’ll find you, i promise. i’m gonna marry you, did you know?”
“so i’ve heard,” you roll your eyes, already feeling a bit fond about him. you didn’t think you’d meet him again, but you were sure that you’d look at this night with a fond smile later. 
he sends you the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen on a person and scampers off, and you stand rooted to that one sticky spot in the bar for longer than you want to admit.
he’s in the back of your mind when you wake up the next morning, in a better mood than most - you never liked waking up early, it always took you a good hour and some coffee to be able to stand without grimacing. this morning though, you float around your apartment as you get dressed with a small smile on your face. 
a cute stranger who kept his boundaries and called you perfect? that wasn’t something that happened often, at least not to you. 
the floatiness followed you all the way through your morning routine until you found your feet stopping outside the coffee shop that you and changbin all but owned. you had no stock in it, but you’re sure that you supply them at least half of their revenue, you probably sit on their rickety chairs more often than your actual couch at home. this place has nursed you through every college class and job interview preparations and beyond, and if it ever closed you might lose time off of your life span. 
your movements from the door to the counter to your usual seat were robotic, muscle memory taking over while your head did somersaults through the clouds. it’s only when you take the first sip of coffee, the bitterness and heat hitting your tongue in a delightful dance, that you notice it. 
another man is sitting next to changbin. a man that looks awfully familiar, and it takes you a moment to realize why. it’s the man from the bar. 
“changbin?” you keep your eyes on the other man as you direct your question at changbin, trying hard to keep your face neutral. “explain?”
“i’m chan,” the man interjects before changbin can answer, reaching his hand across the table for you to shake. it’s warm, his grip somewhere perfectly in the middle of too hard and too soft, and he lets go after an appropriate amount of seconds. despite the neutral passivity of the gesture, you feel something ignite within you, and it threatens to sputter out when you catch no spark of recognition in his eyes. was he that drunk last night that he doesn’t remember you? do his sober eyes not find you as perfect?
“he crashed at my place last night,” changbin’s voice filters through your turmoil, and you finally break away from chan’s gaze to level him with a look. “and he needed coffee, so i brought him along. chan, this is y/n, my best friend.”
the conversation that followed flowed more freely than the coffee dripping from the machines behind the counter, and you almost hate how much you like it. chan is a little goofy, the man from the previous night shining through moments of seriousness and rapt attention. 
by the time you had to leave to go to work you felt like you knew him. you learned where he lived (close to you!), that he worked with changbin (he’s a producer!), and that he loved all animals but he adored dogs (he has one named berry!). just an hour of casual conversation had led to you needing more of him in every aspect of your life, but still in the back of your head lived the thought of him not remembering you from the night before.
changbin leaves first, citing some meeting he had to run to in the middle of a yawn, and when you were left with chan the embarrassment began to set in. 
“i’m going to marry you,” he blurts out, startling you so much you almost jump out of your seat. 
“what?” you ask, a mixture of surprise and disbelief combining into a confusing vortex within your head - was he going to go through this again? you didn’t know if your heart could take it. 
“i mean, i remember you,” he says before you could awkwardly excuse yourself and commit to getting to work early for the first time in a year just to escape being in a room alone with him for much longer. “i’m sorry, i was just embarrassed. i didn’t want to make a fool out of myself in front of changbin.”
“oh,” your breath leaves you all at once and you slump into your chair, understanding hitting you like a train. “that makes sense? i think?”
“i’m going to marry you,” he repeats, a mischievous glint in his eyes, the boy from last night shining through. “one day. i’m going to do it.”
“take me on a date first,” you tease back, a genuine smile stretching across your lips when he laughs, a full bodied thing that drew in eyes from the patrons across the room. for once, you didn’t seem to care that others’ eyes were on you. he made you feel comfortable. 
“what are you doing tomorrow?” his mouth turns upwards into a beautiful smile that you can’t help but return. 
“eager, are we?” you open your phone, sliding it across the table with the new contact page open on it. “i’m free.”
“you’re the most perfect person i’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says, as serious and genuine as the way he had proposed to you last night as he taps his number into your phone. “sorry if i’m a bit desperate.”
“don’t apologize,” you take your phone back, making a mental note to text him later. “i like it, for some unearthly reason. you’re cute, chan.”
the sound of his delighted laugh follows your footsteps all the way to work. 
— 
he picks you up for your first date at noon, right on the dot. he wasn’t a minute late, a polite knock sounding through your apartment just as the hour turned, as if he had been waiting and watching the time outside the door. 
god, is everything about this man endearing? 
he’s wearing shorts and a light sweater, looking like something out of a posh magazine. his hair is curly and swept off his forehead and he’s wearing a smile with the most adorable dimples shining through. 
he leads you to his car and you have to hold back an impressed whistle. you knew changbin and his team did well for themselves, the name 3racha all over the credits of songs on the radio, but this car was nice. you were going to have a talk with changbin about why he still drove the same beat up sedan he’s had since college but that was a thought for later. right now all you wanted to think about was the man who held the door open for you to slide into the passenger seat and was now holding your hand over the middle console. 
“do i get to know where we’re going?” you ask, peering at the map open on his phone but it tells you nothing more than that your destination was 15 minutes away and that he had to make a right turn in one mile. 
“it’s a surprise,” he says, voice a little nervous but it was masked with excitement. wherever he was taking you, you would be happy to be there if he was this happy the whole time. 
four songs on the radio later, one of which you teased him for when he revealed that he wrote it, he was pulling into a parking lot illuminated by flashing colorful lights. he had brought you to the fair. 
“i’ve never been to the fair!” you bounced a little in your seat, wriggling in excitement. “i’ve always wanted to go, how did you know?”
“lucky guess?” he shrugs, avoiding your gaze as he cuts the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt. 
“changbin told you, didn’t he,” you smile at the thought of chan asking his friend about what you’d like. it was cute, a word that you were probably exhausting when thinking about him even after a day of knowing him. 
“yes, but,” he flushes, the tips of his ears burning red. “i asked him after i had decided to come here, just to make sure it was a good idea. i didn’t steal it from him.”
“hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours that he had yet to let go of in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. you didn’t know what brought him calmness yet, but you wanted to learn. you wanted to learn everything about him. “now, take me to the fair, bang chan. i was promised a date.”
he finally meets your eyes again and he’s grinning so happily that you feel like you had just won a prize. who needed a fair when you had your very own carnival game right here? 
it turns out, you did. by the time the sun was beginning to set, your arms were full of various plushies that chan had won for you, each one earning him a hug and a kiss to his cheek. you treasured every single one, the fluttering in your chest when he stepped up to the booths to throw and shoot various things never ceasing. 
“let’s go to the ferris wheel,” you tug at him with your free hand, thanking the skies when you see no queue there. “i bet the sunset looks beautiful from the top.”
he’s quiet when he follows you there and into the carriage, his thigh pressing against yours as he slides in next to you, but you don’t notice in your excitement. it isn’t until the wheel ticks to the top and stops that he grabs your hand again, trembling a little. 
“chan? are you okay?” you ask, concern warping your voice as you turn towards him. your movement rocks the carriage a bit and he turns pale, ducking his head into your neck to hide. 
“yeah, ‘m okay,” he murmurs, his eyelashes ticking your skin when he blinks his eyes shut. “just don’t like heights very much.”
“oh my god, why didn’t you tell me?” you cry out, jumping a bit and regretting it when you rock the carriage again. “nevermind that, what can i do? it’ll go down soon, you’ll be alright.”
“just keep holding my hand?” he squeezes your fingers lightly and your heart melts. you may have made a joke that he was just trying to trick you into holding his hand any other time, but the fear in his shaking body was real and you’d never tease him for that. 
“of course,” you press a kiss to his hair, moving your other hand slowly to wrap around your intertwined fingers. the wheel begins to turn again, swaying the carriage as it descends. you keep your grip on his hand tight the entire time, all the way until you’re on your feet again on steady ground. 
“i’m so sorry,” you begin to say, the horror of subjecting him to his fear creeping up now that the crisis has passed. 
“i’m going to marry you,” he says, cutting off your apology and lifting your hands to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of yours. “no one’s ever been able to keep me that calm. thank you.”
you were left speechless after that and all you could do was smile at him, the ghost of it not leaving your face for the rest of the night. 
your thirty first date with chan ends with you crying into changbin’s arms, utterly confused and the feeling of despair creeping up your veins. you had met him your cafe as you had done several times since the fair, but when you arrived he wasn’t there. he came late, dark storms in his eyes and a hard set to his jaw and you didn’t understand what had made him like that. the usual smile and twinkle in his eyes were missing, and when you and asked him about what was wrong he had snapped at you in a way you hadn’t been talked to in years. 
you had left after that, brushing him off when his eyes had widened and he reached for you while calling out your name. you know that you should have given him a chance to explain, but at the time you were too hurt to consider it. 
you made your way to changbin’s apartment without thinking, your feet taking you to safety before your head could catch up. changbin had taken one look at your face before wrapping you up in his arm, walking you to his couch so he could cuddle you properly while words spilled out of you like a leaky faucet. you felt like you were back in college, crying and blubbering over a boy who had rejected you at a party, and you hated it. 
you didn’t notice changbin sending an angry text to chan, but the sound of changbin’s door opening with a bang startled you out of your tears. chan bursts in like a whirlwind, his hair sticking up at weird angles and a look of panic on his face as he takes you in. he reaches the couch in a few strides and falls to his knees in front of you, holding a crumpled bag from the cafe in his hand and taking your cheek gently into his other. his thumb wipes at the tear tracks there and you could practically taste the guilt emanating off of him. 
“love, i am so sorry,” he starts, ignoring changbin when he scoffs at the apology. “i shouldn’t have snapped at you, i had no right to do that. i got some bad news this morning and i wasn’t feeling my best, and i should have been honest with you. i’ll never do anything like that again, please forgive me? i’ll do anything.”
it was more his voice than his words that did it - he sounded so desperate, like he was trying to hold
onto a ledge that was crumbling, threatening to hurl his body into eternal nothingness. you knew him, you knew he was sorry, and against your first instinct you trusted him when he said he wouldn’t do it again. 
“is that an almond croissant?” you eye the bag in his hand. 
“it’s two almond croissants,” he nods fervently, his hair swishing back and forth with the movement. you sit up, sliding out of changbin’s arms and onto the floor in front of chan. chan’s arms replace changbin’s easily when you lean into him, and it feels like coming home. 
“it’s not like i have a nice couch you could be sitting on,” changbin mutters as he leaves, shaking his head fondly at the two of you before making himself scarce. 
chan kisses you, cradling your head gently into his hands, and they’re so warm. he slides his lips against yours, slowly like he’s taking his time memorizing the planes of your mouth to commit to memory. even after kissing him dozens of times you still find new things to learn about each other. 
“i swear,” he says, pulling away to meet your eyes. “i’m going to marry you, someday.”
“keep getting me croissants as apologies and we’ll see,” you say, sniffling into his neck. 
your eighty seventh date was spent in your bed, your head spinning like both hands on a clock simultaneously and your body exuding more sweat than you ever have. 
chan is wringing out a cool cloth to place on your forehead and it feels so nice that you moan. 
“i’m sorry,” you mutter, and chan has lost count of the amount of times you’ve said it at this point. “we had a date and i ruined it.”
“we were going to see a movie,” he says, running a hand up and down your spine. “and we will. we don’t need a movie theater when we have a screen right here, hmm?” 
“but the popcorn,” you complain, closing your eyes in bliss when he runs a hand through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp. an apology for being so sweaty was at the tip of your tongue but you hold it back in favor of enjoying the feeling of his touch. 
“i’ll make you all the popcorn you want when you’re feeling better,” he promises, dropping a kiss to the side of your head. “for now, how does soup sound?” 
“popcorn soup?“ you ask, a wave of dizziness taking over your body; if you weren’t lying down already, you’re sure that too would be falling over. 
“yeah, baby,” and even in your delirium the fondness in his voice was prominent. he couldn’t hide it even if he tried. “i’ll make you some popcorn soup. get some rest okay?”
you’re asleep before he leaves the room, and you only wake up when he shakes your shoulder a bit and helps you into an upright position. he feeds you bites of what is definitely not popcorn soup after putting a movie on your laptop, the screen sitting at the foot of your bed. the both of you fall asleep before the movie finishes, but you don’t mind. 
he stays with you for days, making you soup and tea and toast and feeding you medicine and being an all-around angel as he nurses you back to health. by the time you’re better you think you’ve fallen back in love with him several times. 
as you had expected and warned him about, he catches your sickness the next week, and now it’s your turn to be his nurse. you try and do the same job he did, but his delirium seems worse. the silver lining is that his fever isn’t as bad, so you’re babysitting a babbling boyfriend more than a sick one. 
the night before his fever breaks is the worst, since he doesn’t even recognize you. you shake your head at his silliness when he asks who you are and calls you pretty. you smile when he takes your hand in his and asks you to come closer. 
you tear up when he tells you that he has a girlfriend that he loves very much and so even though you’re pretty he can’t do anything else because his girlfriend is the prettiest one in the whole world. you let a tear slip when he tells you that he can’t wait to propose to his girlfriend and that he’s going to marry her someday. 
you tell him that you have a boyfriend that you're going to marry someday, trusting that he wouldn’t remember it in the morning. 
your hundredth and fifth date was not unlike your fifth, or your tenth, or your ninetieth. two and a half years later, you were just as endeared by him and he was just as obsessed with you - even more so, if it were possible. 
he takes the time to tell you how gorgeous you look when he picks you up just like he does on every date, and you hide your disgustingly fond smile for him behind his back like you do every time you see him. 
he parks and runs around the car to let you out like he does every time you habit this restaurant, a little fancier than your usual best but it was a favorite of the both of yours - across the street from the bar the two of you had met at. 
you start walking before he does, letting him jog to meet you and complain about how you left him, just like you do every time. before him. you might have thought the monotony would have gotten tiring, but he had a fantastical ability to make every moment feel like the first despite their practiced nature. 
he calls your name from behind you right on schedule and you hum in acknowledgement, turning towards him absentmindedly. the second you lay eyes on him you’re completely alert, though; he isn’t jogging after you, but rather he’s kneeling on the sidewalk, a small box in his hands as he smiles up at you. 
“i’ve told you that i’m going to marry you more times than i can count,” he starts, eyes shining like the stars twinkling in the night sky above you. “but this time i’m asking you.”
“chan,” you choke out, hands coming up to cover your mouth as it quivers. tears spring to your eyes and you silently curse yourself - you always thought you’d be level headed when you got proposed to, but nothing could have prepared you for this, not even the thousands of declarations he had made to you prior. 
“i love you. you’re the only one in the entire universe that i need more than blood or breath, you’re the song that runs through my heart and the fire that leads my path when i’m lost,” his voice is thick, like he’s trying to hold back his emotions long enough to get his words out. “i never thought that i would feel so strongly for someone, i never thought that i deserved a love like this until i met you.”
he pauses as you walk closer to him, letting you approach him before he continues. 
“my love, my eternal light,” he’s tearing up now, blinking fast to keep the salty water at bay. “will you marry me?”
“chan,” you start, kneeling down next to him and taking his wrists in your hands. “i never told you this, but ever since that first day i knew. i knew that the drunk idiot that was hitting on me would be my husband.”
he chuckles, smiling delightedly as the tears finally spring from both of your eyes in unison.
“so?” he trails off, searching your face with his eyes, waiting. 
“oh!” you tighten your grip on him in an apology. “of course i’ll marry you, gosh i love you so much.”
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halesandy · 7 days
Text
• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Seungmin x you
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genre: friend to (implied) lovers
warnings: non graphic shitty date, nothing too specific
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These have been the worst two weeks of your life. And it’s not just to say it. Sure, maybe other people had it worse, but yours was bad!
First: your boss blamed you for his mistakes in front of all your colleagues.
Second: you were so mad at him, you drank a bit too much (but apparently not enough to forget it) and decided it was the perfect moment to finally confess your love to your friend Seungmin.
He rejected you.
Something about being friends and not being the right moment and honestly? You stopped listening after having grasped the direction of his answer. Being rejected is the worst, and also the reason why you waited almost ten months to confess.
Third: you decided to go out with the first guy you met on a dating app just to try and forget about Seungmin and the awkward tension following your confession. And this is just the cherry on top: the guy was such an asshole you literally had to ran away from him and, in doing so, you:
1. Lost your purse
2. Fell down the stairs, slippery from the rain, spraining your ankle
3. Had to contact the last person you wanted to talk to, asking for his help.
So you’re now waiting for Seungmin, sitting at a small coffee shop, your penchant for keeping spare change on all your coats’ pockets is finally paying you back and you have just enough to order a scorching hot coffee to warm yourself.
Your ankle hurts and you hit your elbow on the stairs but you’re too scared to check it out. All this is less worse than the fact that you had to call him. Calling Seungmin is humiliating, but all your other friends are either out of town or too far to help you.
As you go to check the time on your phone, only a black display stares back at you. Because of course you forgot to charge your phone, why would something be in your favor? Luckily, it’s only a few minutes later when you see Seungmin enter the coffee shop.
“Sorry I had to call you”, you say as a greeting.
“You keep apologizing, it’s dumb.” Of course it is. Taking a deep breath you stand up trying not to put too much weight on your bad ankle and start walking towards the door. After just a couple of steps, Seungmin’s hand is on your arm, stopping you. “If you hurt your ankle, we should go to the hospital.”
“No, no thanks. A trip to the hospital is the last thing I need, right now. I just need my bed and to forget the last two weeks.” You try to walk but he’s holding you again, preventing you from going far.
“At least don’t walk on it.”
“Am I supposed to jump on my good foot? I’m wearing high heels.” You show him your heeled boots but it’s not enough to deter him.
“Just-“ he doesn’t finish his sentence but bends a little and in a second he scoops you up, one arm behind your knees and one behind your back. Your crush, to whom you confessed just a few days ago, just picked you up bridal style.
Nor your complaints or your attempts of being put down are effective, and Seungmin carries you to his car, setting you with your feet back on the ground just outside the car door. God, this is so awkward.
Once in the car, he’s quiet but you’re so tense you just open your mouth and start speaking.
“I’m sorry I texted you,” you apologize again, “I just-“
“How did you hurt your ankle?”
“I fell from the stairs, they were slippery from the rain.”
“Were you rushing somewhere?”
This is weird. You haven’t talked to him since the whole fiasco. You used to talk to him daily, silly conversations and serious talks; and now you haven’t talked for almost 10 days and you miss him so much, but how are you supposed to act after he rejected you?
“I was running away, actually.”
“From?” He’s driving, but every now and then he turns his eyes on you.
“From a guy I was on a date with.”
He wants to press down on the brakes right there and then, wants to scream at you and pinch whoever this guy is. But he knows it’s his fault. At least partially. He did reject you. True, he did it because you confessed and all he could think about was all the time he spent crushing on you (maybe even loving you?) and how it would inevitably end up with him hurting you, because you deserve better and he’s not boyfriend material. How can he give you what you deserve? He’s busy, dating openly would be dangerous for you, and you’re so pretty it hurts.
“Did he- what did he do?”
“Nothing that requires calling the police. But he was not a nice guy and to get out I left my bag there.”
“Are you okay? Ankle excluded.”
“Yes. Thanks for picking me up.” Why is it so hard? “I-“ You what? You miss him? You want him? You wanna go back to when you hadn’t confessed?
With a dry exhale, he puts his blinkers on and tersely pulls over. He turns off the car and turns to face you properly, a serious expression on his pretty face.
“You went on a date and the guy was so terrible you had to run away. And got hurt in the process. How is this okay?”
“Min, it’s not a big deal.”
“Yes, it is!” He sounds frustrated, and maybe it's because he had to come pick you up.
“Sorry you had to come pic-“
“STOP FUCKING SAY SORRY!” He never screams at you, not when you’re serious. He rubs his eyes and exhales loudly. “Where did you even meet this guy?”
“On a dating app.”
“Why the fuck are you on a dating app?”
“Because that’s how normal people meet someone who they might like.”
“But you already like someone.” Your blood turns cold, you weren’t expecting Seungmin to mention it. Is he mocking you? Wasn't it enough to be rejected?
“Seungmin.”
“You already like someone so why are you on a dating app?”
“To forget that someone I like, since it’s unreciprocated.” You mutter, annoyed by this conversation but not knowing how to stop it either.
“Why are you being so stubborn now?”
“I’m the one being stubborn? What do you want from me Seungmin!”
“Not to give up so fucking easily, maybe!”
“Why? So I have to suffer even more?” You shake your head and, in another situation, you’d leave this car. “You don’t like me like that, you made that clear.”
“I just said it because I didn’t know what to say!” He’s loud, like he never is. “I can’t give you what you deserve, but I don’t want you to want other men.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Very mature, Min.”
“Just don’t date.” He says it like it explains everything.
“Why?”
“Because!”
“Fuck, I can’t do this now. Can you just take me home please?”
“How are you gonna go in with no keys?”
“Fuck! Fuck fuck.” How did you not think about that? You have to go back and hope your bag hasn't been stolen. Your money’s probably gone, but maybe they left the keys. You rest your forehead against the cold window and take a deep breath.
“You can stay with me.” Seungmin offers, and his voice is so careful and you’re so tired, you nod and answer with a small yes.
The ride to Seungmin’s is quiet, and so is the time spent doing your night time routine. Brushing your teeth side by side, washing your face, trying to be quiet while letting him help you move from one room to another. You did it together lots of times, but now everything is so awkward. You’re about to ask him for some clothes to sleep in when he speaks.
“When I said I couldn’t be with you was because I am not fit to be a boyfriend and you deserve someone who gives all he has to make you happy and I don’t know if I can be that person. Not because I don’t like you, I really like you. I have feelings for you. Not the friend kinda feelings. The wanting-to-kiss-you feelings. And I don’t want you to have feelings for someone else. Can you- Can you wait and give me some time?”
You weren’t expecting his confession, this is a surprise for you. And it’s stupid that he thinks he doesn’t deserve you, cause he’s perfect in your eyes, but you’re not gonna belittle his worries.
“This is the most I’ve ever heard you talk uninterrupted.”
“This is all you have to say??”
“You can have all the time you want, Seungminnie. Just promise to talk to me when you reach a decision.” He nods solemnly, and then he gives you a small smile.
Neither of you knows what will happen, but for now you’ll cuddle together under the duvet and leave for tomorrow your worries.
(In a week, he tells you he’ll do anything necessary to prevent you from liking other guys. Which includes being your boyfriend and work hard to deserve your feeling. You tell him it’s stupid, because he already deserves them. He doesn’t believe you, but he kisses you anyway. It’s the best kiss of your life and when you call him your boyfriend for the first time, his smile is so bright you might have to invest on some good sunglasses.)
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halesandy · 7 days
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Texting ATEEZ - BFF Compliments
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halesandy · 8 days
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title: ghosted pairing: seungcheol x f!reader wc: 6.1k, mature/18+ only! tags: based on this drabble. porn with a considerable amount of plot, fwb to lovers, rich guy!cheol, yn is able to be picked up. horrible terrible excessive amounts of fluff. smut tags below the cut. everyone say thank you to @wuahae for reading this over :)
smut tags: softdom!cheol, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), spanking/biting, yn has hair that can get pulled, mild ass play, boob stuff, fingers in mouth.
--
you think you have seungcheol's number memorized.
well, you definitely should have by now, with how many times you considered deleting it. instead you ended up changing his contact name, first to seungcheol club, which is where you met him. second time--rebound guy. the third iteration, your roommate had made it DO NOT TEXT, and you had left it like that because she was probably right anyway.
for better or for worse, you are not very good at following instructions. you're two and a half weeks fresh off of a heart-to-heart with your friends where you agreed that no, the best way to get over your ex was to not get under somebody else, and yes, you should absolutely stop sleeping with a guy who brags about being a playboy.
so you deleted his number and your text history, and everyone swore up and down that this was a good thing.
and you're sure you were on the same page as them until about five minutes ago, when you were doing your laundry and you had come across one of his white button-up shirts.
(he let you keep it because he said you looked better in it than he did. that morning, before you left his place, he had buttoned it all the way up for you--don't want anyone else looking at you the way i do, he had said. plus, the amount of hickies he had left behind were in no way presentable to the general public.)
the effect this has on you is instantaneous and humiliating.
"fuck. fuck," you groan, now scrolling through your camera roll to look for literally any screenshot with his number in it.
there's one from back when he was rebound guy--he had sent you ten dollars in apple cash so you could buy a coffee when you said you were too tired to fuck. you ended up coming over that night anyway, and you both watched four hours of law and order until you fell asleep on his couch.
there are a handful from when DO NOT TEXT had sexted you in the middle of the workday, which you kept for posterity and nights alone with your vibrator.
and then, finally, a few weeks before that, when things were simple and he was just an unsaved number in your phone--hey, i know you ran out this morning, but i wanted to let you know i had a great time last night, if you know what i mean. even with the winky face emoji, it was a strangely wholesome text from a first time hookup.
you favorite the screenshot and curse the fact that you have never had good impulse control.
you up? i miss you.
the words fly so fast out of your fingers, you have no time to consider whether or not this is a good idea. you vividly recall the time he told you he had never seen the point of putting a label on a relationship, which was the whole reason your friends staged an intervention in the first place.
still, the white shirt on your bed taunts you. even thinking about it makes your head spin.
yeah. let me send you an uber.
that too--he had money, and he wasn't ashamed to spend it on you. between that and the dick, you don't think you're willing to squander your luck.
besides, seungcheol is still rebound guy. you're still getting over your ex, and he's just a quick fix in the meantime. you tell yourself this, and you keep telling yourself this until you're out the door, without a second chance to tell yourself otherwise.
--
"can't go long without getting your back blown out, huh?"
this is the first thing seungcheol says to you, oblivious to the fact that you were planning on forever ghosting him less than an hour ago.
"as if you didn't answer my text almost immediately," you laugh, letting him help you take your coat off.
"never said i wasn't happy to provide," he replies. his gaze is hot, sticky, like he's forgotten what you've looked like already. "i think it's been almost a month. i thought you got tired of me or something, you know."
"of course not. i...i got busy."
it's a half lie. the other half? you wouldn't dare admit it, but you missed his apartment a little. partly because it's much nicer than your own, but the bachelor pad decor was starting to grow on you. (and maybe the bachelor, with it.)
"work was good today?" you ask, letting him draw you in by the waist. his hands are so warm as he draws them up and down your sides, underneath the cotton of the thin shirt you have on.
"oh, please," seungcheol says, his grin now hovering right over your lips. "don't play innocent. you didn't come here so i could talk about my job."
he's right, so you let him kiss you. it's hot and fast and it tastes like his twenty dollar mouthwash, which you take small pride in because it means he would have been sleeping if his hand wasn't on your ass right now.
seungcheol has never been slow nor patient. your shirt has come off, and he now thumbs at the waistband of your jeans, grasping at the button to undo them.
"i don't think i even know what you look like with pants on," he says, lips dragging against the shell of your ear. "you always dress up when you come here, and it all ends up on the floor. pity."
you feel all the heat in your body surge towards your core. somehow your jeans are already on the floor and seungcheol's palm is fanned over the thin lace of your panties.
"thought about me the whole way here, huh?" two fingers are meanly sat over the seam of your cunt, pressing the damp fabric to your skin. "let yourself get all wet for me on the car ride?"
"maybe," you manage, not wanting to betray the embarrassment in your voice. you don't need his hand there to know how wet you are, and yet you know he's doing it to tease you anyway. he finds the bump of your clit over the fabric, now clingy and warm over your skin, and runs his thumb over it. "what else was i supposed to think about?"
"no need to be shy. can't lie with such a needy pussy." he chuckles as your thighs squeeze helplessly around him. "it's cute."
before you can protest, he pushes your panties to the side, now undoubtably soaked through, and his fingers find your clit again. it just takes two, three, rough strokes to draw the pleasure out of you like a fire in your belly.
"cheol," you whine. somehow things always end up like this--you, almost fully naked, and him, still with all his clothes on. he likes reminding you of it too, now enjoying the way you press against him, searching for skin. instead, you feel his cock under his sweatpants, right up against your thigh, and it only turns you on further.
your hands find his waist, but between the new welt he's sucked into your neck and the paralyzing feeling of his thumb on your clit again and again, you falter. your fingertips hover on the downy hair peeking over the band of his sweats, and you've never ached more to have him inside you.
that's all seungcheol needs to yank you back in line. "bed. now," he says, and you listen.
his apartment is big, and the walk feels dizzying as he follows behind you. what's even worse is that you can feel his eyes rake over you--he loves it. the humiliating stumble of your two left feet, the glistening slick at the apex of your thighs, how your panties cling to your ass, now ruined.
even now, as you clamber onto the bed like you're learning to use your limbs for the first time, he loves how easy you are for him. but you can't help it--no one fucks you as good as he does, and that was the reason he was rebound guy in the first place.
"face me," is his next command. at the foot of the bed, first, he pulls off his shirt, and your eyes wander first to his chest, then to the trail he's got down his stomach, teasing you as he pushes down his sweats.
one of his hands, strong and veiny, disappears under his waistband to play with his cock. you watch the slow flick of his wrist and see the shape of his length underneath the fabric, and you almost start salivating.
you're sure he's punishing you by now.
"you're staring, pretty girl. use your words." a turn of his wrist, and he groans. he might just make himself cum like this, and the notion that it wouldn't be somewhere inside you absolutely shatters the last bit of pride you had left.
"need you in my mouth, cheol," you whine, now sitting up straight against the headboard, as if looking any more pitiful would persuade him to join you.
and he does, just not in the way you want him to. instead, you watch his sweats fall to the ground before he kneels on the edge of the bed, on the end furthest from you.
"what, you think i'm gonna give it to you easy? after you made me wait for you?" you are not thinking straight enough to decipher what this means. who knew ghosting a fuckboy would have actual consequences, but you watch his grip tighten around the fat base of his cock and decide this is not the time to play detective.
so you swallow your pride and all your questions and you crawl. you crawl all the way down the seemingly endless length of his king sized bed, feeling seungcheol's gaze swallow you whole, and you like it.
when you stop at the foot of the bed, you take pause to look at seungcheol, really look at him. his eyes are dark, almost unrecognizably so--maybe it's the way you so readily make yourself perfect for him, arching your back just how he likes and letting your swollen, wet mouth fall open like you've never wanted anything more than him.
"so pretty like this," he coos. he runs a thumb over your bottom lip, feeling it quiver under his skin. you feel the saliva pooling in your mouth; it's as humiliating as it is desperate but you can't help yourself. it feels so good to be touched, and seungcheol's clings to you like nothing else.
he pushes his fingers into your mouth, almost to the back so you choke. you're at the point where you'll take anything, so you suck. you let your tongue run all over the digits, long and calloused enough that you can only dream of having them inside the other half of you. he pushes onto your tongue, wanting you to taste him, and you whimper, the feeling harsh but not unwelcome.
"dumb mouth just needs something in it, huh? my girl will just suck anything?"
you can't talk, so you whine around his fingers, feeling your pussy clench around nothing. he's been playing with his cock with his free hand, forcing you to watch him trace every vein with his own skin instead of yours. you hollow out your cheeks and suck him nice and tight, trying to fool yourself otherwise.
then he laughs, low and quiet--as fun as it is to slut you out, he's never been patient. "open wide, darling." he slides his fingers out from your mouth before pulling your hair out of the way. thank you, you want to say, but it's quickly washed away by the shock of his cock between your lips, rough but never too much so.
god, you didn't even think you liked sucking dick that much, but sleeping with seungcheol for this long must have altered your brain chemistry for the worse. his familiar, heavy warmth sits on your tongue, and you can't help but moan around him. you love the stretch of your jaw, the way his eyes always wrench shut no matter how in control he is.
"fuck," he groans, carding a hand through his hair. "slutty little mouth's made for me."
you hum around him, taking him all the way to where your nose skims the dewy curls on his abdomen and all you know is the scent of his heat. you're drooling so much, thanks to all the fingers in your mouth not too long ago, but you don't care. you run your tongue on the veiny underside of his cock, back and forth, savoring the hurt in your cheeks and all the spit on your chin.
seungcheol makes a low-pitched, strangled noise, the first time you've seen him crack tonight, and it sends another gushy wave of heat to your cunt.
you toy with his slit, let the salt of his precum fill your mouth, and suck hard around his cockhead. your scalp stings wonderfully with how he pulls at your hair, and you lean into the feeling. a deep breath through your nose, and you sink down again. the way he hits the back of your throat makes you yelp pitifully, but you persist like a dog to a bone. again, again, and you're gagging on your own spit as your throat spasms around him and you go cross-eyed.
he's all about control, but he lets you have this--perhaps he likes seeing you give yourself to him without him asking. he doesn't have to lift a finger, and you'll still choke around him, bruise your own throat. surely that had to mean something, but you'll chalk it up to some astrological sexual compatibility you're unaware of at the moment.
"enough," seungcheol finally says, voice gravelly, and he pulls you off him by the hair. "fuck, you probably would've cummed from that alone, huh?"
meanly, he reaches over your back to grab at the strings of your underwear so it digs into your cunt. you cry out, feeling the warmth of arousal leak all over your twitching hole, even between your ass. he's right--any more, and you really might have cummed all over yourself.
" 'm so wet, cheol," you plead, toes curling as he pulls the elastic of your panties further back. "please, please, please."
he releases the band, and it snaps hard against your skin. it feels like electricity as it connects with you, and you cry out again, the noise high-pitched and whoreish.
"gonna need you to face the other way if you want me to fuck you, darling," he says. "my baby likes it best from behind, right?"
you have nothing left in you but insatiable desire. you turn around to face the headboard, still on your hands and knees. seungcheol runs a careful hand down the curve of your spine before landing a hard slap on your ass. your skin sings, and all the blood in your body feels like it's been turned to fire.
"cheol," you warble, pressing your face into the sheets. your pussy actually hurts from how neglected it is, and when the second slap comes down, your clit aches like a bruise. "need you so bad...can't believe i went so long without you."
the words just fall out of you but you think they're true regardless. you were really fooling yourself thinking you could go the rest of your life without this. somewhere deep inside you, in the working part of your brain, you wonder if he's come to the same conclusion. that underneath the show, all the greed and the meanness, he missed you too.
"you must really need to get fucked," seungcheol chuckles. "you've never been this nice to me."
"not true," you protest, muffled by the sheets, and he laughs again. then he peels your underwear down your thighs before spreading your ass underneath his palms, and the cool air makes you twitch under him.
"you smell so fucking good. fuck." he groans, low and desirous, and it's the last thing you register before you feel the swell of his nose, his lips, as he buries his face in your cunt.
it's all too much at once--it rips a squeal out from your chest, one of those slutty, loud ones he loves, and it spurs him on further. you feel the wet pressure of his tongue, first between your folds, then up to the tight ring of your asshole, still messy with your arousal.
"o-oh my god," you cry. the pressure in your belly is now wound tight; you're so, so close and he's barely even started. he seems to know this, and deprives you of his mouth in lieu of his two fingers. the change in sensation is instant and toe-curling. something, anything, is finally inside you, and it's better than anything you have ever known. he drags the pads of his fingers brutally over your g-spot, loving the way you cry and tremble beneath him as your orgasm builds.
"have you had enough, pretty girl?" seungcheol asks, voice cruel, teasing. it's a rhetorical question--before you know it, his fingers are gone, and you instead feel the length of his cock between the curve of your ass. he's got a hand between your shoulder blades, pinning you down, just so he can see you struggle to push yourself against him.
"n-no," you reply, voice catching in your throat. you feel the head of his cock against your slit, and your thighs tremble with anticipation. not good enough. it only takes him a few times, rocking against your cunt, for you to crumble. you ask for things you can't even remember, and it's then when he pushes into you, so meanly you really do forget what words mean.
seungcheol swears under his breath, and his grip on your ass feels tight enough to bruise. your cunt flutters around him, god, you forgot how fucking big he is, but he doesn't give you much time to get used to it. his pace is unforgiving, and his hips slam into your ass like he's trying to fuck the sound out of you.
"cheol," you hiccup, listening to your voice jolt with every thrust. " 'm so full...."
"yeah? you like how i fill you up?" he squeezes your ass hard, and you moan into the sheets. "better than anyone else?"
"o-only you," you reply, slack-jawed at the feeling of being split open so well and the delicious, unending drag of him against your walls. "just you."
this seems to satisfy him. he enters you, deeper still, until it feels like he's in your stomach.
"so fucking tight," he says, from somewhere deep in his chest. "you need me to stretch you out like this every once in a while, yeah? you take it so well, pretty girl."
all you can do is moan his name. it's what you've been doing, and at this point, it's the only word you know. he bottoms out again, and the pleasure is so white-hot it feels like it burns.
it only takes two, three, punches into your cunt for you to come undone. you're gushing, gushing around him, babbling something incoherent, and still he is unrelenting. you feel your mouth move in an attempt to tell him you're too sensitive, and he only shoves his cock deeper in you so he can feel you clench hard around it.
then he pushes your head into the sheets, deeper still so the neighbors won't write him up in the morning, and fucks you again. you foolishly think another orgasm will break you, but all it takes is for him to press his thumb into the dip of your asshole and tell you he's going to fuck you in both holes one day for you to fall apart again.
by the time he's done with you, your legs feel boneless and you don't even want to think about the situation between them. (you had asked him to cum in you, and he did. there was so much, he had to push some back into you with his fingers, and you cummed one more time.)
you feel seungcheol's dead weight slump onto the bed beside you. you're still face-down, but you turn as far as you can to look at him. it's unfair how he still looks good now--his bangs, dark and curly with sweat, crown his forehead, and you watch his long eyelashes flutter shut.
"fuck," he groans. "how does every time with you get better?"
somewhere inside you, in the parts that still work, you feel a small gleam of pride. it feels traitorous, in a way--the whole point of being friends with benefits was that it was supposed to be conditional, but you're running out of conditions. clearly, it didn't take much for you to come back and not regret it.
seungcheol laughs at your silence. "did i break you? no," he jokingly whines, and he rolls onto his side to return your gaze. he brings a hand up to brush the hair out of your eyes, as if that would somehow magically repair your body. but it does feel nice. "please speak."
"maybe broken. to be determined." seungcheol grins stupidly when you say this, and you watch how his eyes crinkle up at the sides.
usually, it's every man for himself at this point in the night. seungcheol will order takeout and draft some emails, and you hobble over to the bathroom so you can pee and use the shower. he leaves you alone for this part, which is the perfect opportunity to mix all his fancy shower gels together like you're a kid again.
but today seems different. you lie there for a beat in silence, watching each other blink. then seungcheol gets up, slowly then all at once, and walks over to your wrung-out body.
"i'm picking you up," he says, like a warning. "hopefully you're not afraid of heights."
you think he's joking until you feel the strong cords of his forearms--one around your middle and the other under your legs. you didn't even think you were able to be picked up at this point in your life, but somehow he's got you flush against his chest now, almost nose to nose with him.
"wait," you waver, suddenly feeling self conscious about literally everything. you're sticky and smelly and you're not curious to find out if your post-coital form will scare him away. "seungcheol."
"you really plan on walking yourself over to the bathroom? you couldn't make it to the bedroom earlier, and i hadn't even fucked you yet."
"hey!" you protest. he laughs, and you can feel his whole body shake. "wait, i can't laugh too much, or i'm gonna start leaking."
"you've got another thing coming if you think i'm afraid of a little body fluid."
seungcheol bumps the bathroom door open with his ass, which is somehow the funniest and most endearing thing to you. you flip on the light, and he sets you on the counter like it's just a normal friday night for the both of you.
he turns the shower on and turns back to look at you. "how hot do you want it?" then his eyes narrow playfully. "are you one of those freaks who likes getting their skin boiled off?"
"well, you can answer the first half of that question on your own."
"ok. freak."
while he messes with the shower knobs (he's got one of those showers with three separate showerheads), you take a moment to do some more snooping. the first time you were here, you did go through the various things he had on his counter. most of them are still there--the overpriced moisturizer you shamelessly use when you stay the night, a quarter-full bath and body works foaming soap, and a folded up hand towel with his initials on it.
there are some newer additions too. you don't miss how the little jar for your toothbrush is still there, or a small tube of lip gloss you had forgotten to take back a few months ago. he restocked the hand lotion that you said you liked, too.
you're starting to think that there is a small possibility that you are no longer friends with benefits. you're not dating either, but something somewhere in the middle. but how do you say something like that? how would you know, especially when seungcheol is a self-proclaimed forever bachelor who may never, ever date?
you have no time to think about this any further.
"sooo," seungcheol hums, wiping his hands with a bath towel. "i'll be in the bedroom. you want me to order chinese?" you watch him linger around, lamely, like a stray dog.
"wanna join me?"
he smiles, ear to ear.
"thought you'd never ask."
--
morning comes slowly.
you wake to birdsong and the quiet chatter of the city beneath you. the sun from the curtains is buttery and warm on your bare skin, and time seems to drag its feet. it feels perfect, which is a word you would have never used in relation to any of this, and yet nothing else seems more appropriate.
last night, after your shower (in which you learned that seungcheol always makes his hair into a shampoo mohawk, without fail), you talked for hours over the fattest spread of takeout you had ever seen.
the plan was to put on the office and dissociate like usual, but he finally answered your question about how his day at work was. (tumultuous and drama-filled--that was his first mistake. you love drama.) strangely, by the end of the night, you learned that you had more in common than you thought with a man whose watch collection was valued higher than your entire college education.
"you up?" seungcheol's morning voice comes out sounding like a croak from behind you. you're sure he's about to complain that his arm is asleep from your big head on it, but he doesn't. instead, he settles deeper into your warmth and pulls you closer by the waist.
"yeah," you reply, enjoying the feeling of his skin against your own.
you grab your phone from the nightstand, wondering if your roommate has discovered your betrayal and has blown up your phone. she has, so the two voice memos and twenty text messages in the group chat are no surprise to you.
what is a surprise is the text you get from your ex. can we talk? it reads. it's the first time you've heard from him in months--before that, he had broken up with you (over text) and then proceeded to block you on every platform possible.
your mind starts to spin. you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to text him back. just for closure's sake, you tell yourself, as if you haven't cried at least seven separate times about this. but you will admit, seungcheol has been a great diversion. you don't remember the last time you had a cry, and any progress was good progress to you.
complicating things, said diversion has slotted a leg between yours, and his hand has found its way to your ribcage, distractingly close to your chest. such are the consequences of only wearing a shirt to bed.
"you're so warm," he murmurs, right in the space where your neck meets your shoulder. his hand creeps up, now right over your heartbeat. it doesn't really take much for your body to respond--his fingertips find your nipple, and with a light squeeze, you're already arching back into him. "is this ok?"
"yeah," you breathe. you're distracted, but you figure the best way to un-distract yourself is with a new, better distraction.
now emboldened, he rolls the skin between his fingers, finding he loves the way you shudder underneath him. quickly, he moves out from behind you to hover over you instead, propping himself up by his forearms, and pushes your shirt up over the swell of your tits.
"you good?" seungcheol asks, lips flush to the skin over your heart. he presses another wet kiss to one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth.
"yeah, why?" you have half a mind to hold his head down so he can't ask more questions and ruin the point of being a distraction in the first place.
"dunno." he switches to the other side, licking over a mark he's bitten into your skin. "you looked at your phone and you seemed worried. also, you're frowning, and it's not a sex frown."
damn. you guess you're easier to read than you thought. you don't even have the heart to ask what the fuck a sex frown looks like.
seungcheol's mouth returns to your nipple, and he sucks hard, making you gasp into your palm.
"my ex," you tell him. there's no point in keeping it a secret. the first time you slept together, you had made it clear what your intentions were, which is what made this arrangement work so well in the first place. "he wants to talk or something."
"that asshole?" then another suck, and you keen into him. "you're too good for him."
it's literally one of the three appropriate responses he could have chosen from, but it still feels like a compliment to you. almost too much so.
"yeah. i guess." your voice sounds more wobbly than you'd like, but you chalk it up to the fact that he's now pressing his lips down your middle, all the way down to your core. "hey, i'm ticklish."
"i know." he kisses your belly button, and you smile in spite of yourself. "you smell good, by the way."
"it's your forty dollar body wash," you remind him.
"damn right it is." you feel his breath fan over your thighs, and your stomach flips with anticipation. "legs over my shoulders. you know the drill."
"you don't have to do this, you know," you say, before immediately regretting it. you have a spectacular knack of self-sabotage, which you think seungcheol knows by this point. "you've been really nice to me."
"am i not allowed to like being nice to you?" seungcheol jokes. "would you prefer me to be mean?"
"no," you laugh. you don't know how to ask what he meant. what made yesterday and today so different? it feels like you're on the edge of something, coming close to what you could only describe as more than casual affection, more than desire. "go back to being nice. forget i said anything."
you put your legs over his shoulders, like he asked. one good orgasm wouldn't solve the ex problem or this new seungcheol problem you are starting to discover, but it sure would help you think more clearly.
his lips are soft on you. he has none of the urgency or greed of yesterday; instead, he takes his time with you. his mouth skims over your inner thighs, lightly, drawing out all the breath from your lungs. you make a small noise of impatience, and you feel the stretch of his grin against you.
before you have a second chance to complain, you feel the heat of his open mouth over your cunt, as to drink your taste up. then his tongue, warm, insistent, on your clit, circling it before he sucks.
"o-oh, fuck," you whine, voice muffled by the back of your hand. it feels too early to be loud, and you're already embarrassed by how sensitive you are.
"don't text him back," seungcheol says. he's replaced his mouth with two fingers, now leisurely teasing you at your entrance.
"don't worry--" you manage to say this before he crooks the pads of his fingers into you, right at your sweet spot, and the words are stolen from you. "--about him."
"i'm serious." he laps at your cunt, and with his fingers still buried in you, the feeling makes you dizzy. "did he ever make you feel like this?"
"n-no," you whine, now with your palm shoved right against your mouth. he's added a third finger now, and the stretch is so good, you're going cross-eyed. "never ate me out."
"what?" you hear him tsk between your thighs as his fingers still. "he's missing out."
it's then that seungcheol must have resolved to give you the best head of your life, because you think you black out after that point.
his lips return to your clit, and the pleasure is so startling, you can feel your thighs squeeze shut around his head. unfazed, he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your hole, still fluttering, unused to the size.
"close, 'm so close," you mewl, hips now lifted to chase his tongue. he indulges you, gives you the flat of the muscle to grind against as he stuffs you full.
your other hand finds his hair, and it only takes a moment, a slight pull, for him to moan into your heat--the sound breaks something inside you, and you're gasping, crying out with your high. by now, there are marks from your teeth in your palm, but something about the sting only makes the feeling better.
seungcheol stays sealed to your cunt, removing his fingers only to replace them with his mouth, eager to taste you. he lingers until you're shaking and whimpering, spent from your orgasm and too sensitive to endure another.
he looks up at you, swollen lips and bedhead made worse, and a surge of affection overtakes you.
"kiss me," you tell him, and he does.
it's long, and it's slow, not even close to any of the ones you've had before. you wrap a hand around the back of his neck, and he sighs. you don't think he's ever done that before.
when he pulls back to look at you, it feels as though the air has changed. there are words pushing at your lips. this isn't casual anymore. it can't be, not with what just happened.
yeah, the sex is good, but the first thing you thought of this morning wasn't you or your saturday plans or how to endure the dismay of your entire friend group, it was about him. if didn't count for something, you don't know what did.
"seungcheol, i--" you pause. his eyes are so brown, it's distracting you, and you start to second guess yourself.
"is it about your ex?" he interrupts. "if he asked you to get back with him, would you?"
it's not his question, but his insistence that takes you by surprise.
"n-no." you watch his gaze flicker at your hesitance, and you don't like it. "no, i wouldn't."
"good, because--" he pauses, seeming to gather his thoughts. you try to read his expression, but he can't even meet your eyes right now. "look, i know i haven't had the best track record with dating. i don't even think i know how to date."
"what are you saying?" you ask softly. there's a part of your heart that feels like it's peeling itself back, in a good way.
"i'm saying i want to try." and when you still look confused, he continues. "dating you. if you'd let me."
against all odds, past all the swirling, terrible emotions in your chest, there's a bright surge of relief, of joy. the last time you saw him look so vulnerable was when he reached into his oven to pull out a tray of cookies and burned his hand because he forgot a glove. maybe this whole thing would crash and burn, but you like him enough (honestly more than enough) to try with him.
so you smile, and you watch him frown and pout and look unbearably terrified, and you smile harder.
"ok," you say, playfully feigning indifference. "you can try."
instead of replying, he kisses you again, and it's even better than the first one.
when you finally head out that morning, there's a lightness in your chest.
in the doorway, seungcheol pecks the top of your head before showing you his phone. "which emoji do you want?" he asks, completely seriously. "i want the blue heart."
you pull out your phone to find his contact, which still shows his plain number, just like old times.
"i'm unsaved?!" his jaw drops open like he's animated, and you laugh.
"gotta go," you tease. "see you later."
it's only in the uber home (that he called for you, of course), where you finally put in his real, government name, for the first time. finally, it feels a little more right.
choi seungcheol, it reads. with the blue heart.
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halesandy · 11 days
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My dog was put to sleep forever today
She was with me for almost 9 years, she's literally my baby
I keep crying, I'm crying for six hours straight rn, omg
My 4yo daughter keeps asking why my eyes are red and if I'm sick, and I just can't bring myself to tell her
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