#oh god music structure | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itstheghostofmypast · 13 days

Text

Nah Bro!

University Student Wooyoung x (F)Reader

Summary: No, he wasn't an idiot, he knew what he wanted and he always had, the only problem was he wasn't sure if she wanted the same. He was her friend, her biggest supporter, and her shelter on rainy days- but he was NOT her bro.

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 7.6k

Est. Read Time: 37 min

Warnings: language, suggestive content, Woo's a perv and she ain't any better.

Rating: Mature

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Banner: @cafekitsune

"Wooyoung?"

His head whipped in her direction, his signature smile gracing his face as he saw her approach her with her usual expressions filled with scepticism.

"In the flesh" he smiled down at her, the students around then slowly disappearing into nothing, the world halting at the perfect time when the rays of light seeping through the glass windows, reflecting off her lashes and skin, giving off an ethereal glow, the way the wind was just blowing right, her summer dress swaying like nature itself was flirting with her, asking her for a dance, how the birds began to harmonise, in the joy of her being here and-

"Is calling someone girlie pop considered flirting?"

"Ye- what? Who's flirting with you?" all too quickly the world around him shattered, coming back to its usual hustle and bustle, the frat boys a bit too loud and a bit too annoying, the girls passing by distracting her as one of them called her out, asking her to have lunch with them, and just to top it all off, Choi San just happened to pop by tapping his shoulder, to ruing the mood.

"Get lost, Choi."

"What? I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!"

"GO."

"FINE."

The two exchanged a look as the taller male caught the way his friend was eying the girl talking to the other girls, giggling about something- no, someone. Bloody Park Seonghwa.

"You should tell her." he nudged Wooyoung who swatted his hand away and whispered back, "And you should f**k off."

With that he marched away, leaving San standing there in the middle of the hallway. The idiot also forgot that when she turned around to look for him, she couldn't find him, but she saw San making her way to him she smiled, "Did Woo leave?"

"Uh- yeah he had a class."

"Really? Did he take a course I'm not in?"

Never had Choi San in his life felt the urge to murder someone, it would be Wooyoung for leaving him alone with her, knowing fully well he couldn't really lie to her, especially when she was looking around for her Woo like a lost puppy.

Clearing his throat the feline-eyed man nodded towards the exit, "I think he went that way, I'm gonna go there too if you wanna tag along..." he trailed off when he noticed she wasn't listening anymore, in fact, she was too busy staring at someone else, a certain literature major, one who had the face structure of a Greek god but the personality of a pleasant old lady, Park Seonghwa- oh. Seonghwa wasn't a bad person, no, he was great, but his reputation of being a flirt was somewhat of a bother- perhaps because he was a senior and his merry band of friends comprised every handsome man in the lot, music major Kim Hongjoong, IT genius Jeong Yunho and the upcoming model, plus business major Kang Yeosang- truthfully, San doesn't blame her for basking in the attention Seonghwa had started giving her, most girls would throw themselves at them- then often politely get rejected (unless of course, you had the unfortunate luck of confessing to Hongjoong, who'd often have his earphones plugged in, ignoring you and walking all over you heart as he walked away), and if Seonghwa had actually put in the effort of talking to her, then there was something about her that had intrigued the shy extroverted man.

"Hmm?" She looked away, ducking her head to hide the blush that had spread across her face when Seonghwa passed by, giving her an acknowledging smile, damn, Wooyoung really did need to step up his game.

"Wanna go look for Wooyoung?"

"Oh! YEAH! LET'S GO SANNIE! HE HAD TEACH ME HOW TO FLIRT!” She yelled, much like the lunatic who was hopelessly falling for her each day, grabbing San's bag as she dragged him out, or trying to, because she really couldn't move him an inch "Let's go-"

With a soft chuckle, he took her bag from her, watching her glare up at him all confused, "It's the other way, come on, little minx."

"Ow-" he hissed, his hand going to the back of his head, as he turned to glare at San- "AYE CHOI, YOU WANNA DIE?" He threatened the taller man who was wearing two backpacks, each slung over one shoulder- wait why is he doing that?

"It was me, idiot." He heard from beside him, as he turned to look at her before pouting, "Teach me how to flirt." His pout morphed into a face of disgust, moving a step back from her, crossing his arms over his chest as he scanned her frame, making sure she would become hyper-aware of his gaze and self-conscious, borderline uncomfortable.

"I'll..." San turned his head to spot a small ice cream stall, man, he loved business week, "Get us some ice cream."

Pulling her jacket closer to her she whined, kicking her feet, "D-dont look at me like that."

"Why?" He asked moving closer, enough for her to take a step back as she looked up at him, his gaze piercing through her, keeping her rooted at the spot when he took one final step closer to her, making sure to maintain eye contact, a rocky little smirk made its way on his handsome face as he invaded more of her personal space, eyes flicking to her lips, the residue of the shiny gloss teasing him, taunting him, tempting him, though the way her lips quirked into a frown had him scoff, and glance back up at her, feeling her palms flatten against his chest. Still, she didn't push him, of course, giving him unintentional mixed signals was her favourite hobby. He pressed his forehead against hers, whispering, "You wanna learn how to flirt but can't even look me straight in the eye."

"I-I" her hands gripped onto his shirt, twisting it in her sweaty grip as she felt him let out an airy chuckle, when she continued, "I-this isn't..." Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes, causing him to smile, following along, enjoying the -

"MOTHER F*CKER- YOU BI- WHAT THE HELL!?" Stumbling back, he yelled like a madman, pressing his palm against his nose before feeling the blood trickle out, "ARE YOU INSANE? THAT'S WHY YOU'RE ALWAYS GOING TO BE SINGLE!" His shrill causing the student passing by to give them strange looks.

"What...the hell guys...I was gone for 10 minutes?" San mumbled, walking over to them with ice lollies in hand, the sight before him annoying, but not new or unexpected- this was a common occurrence, one he had been forced to see since the first semester of starting his not-so-peaceful university life.

"He was harassing me."

"HARASSING- HARASSING YOU? YOU FREAKY GREMLIN YOU SLAMMED YOUR HEAD ON MY NOSE!? FOR WHAT!?" He snatched the cold packaged good from the quiet man, who gave him a look of concern, "Go to the nurse Woo-"

"SHUT UP CHOI." He hissed, pressing the packaged ice good against his nose as he walked over towards a bench, ignoring the whining menace following him behind, calling him out as she sat down next to him, wrapping her arms around his arm, pulling him closer, clinging onto him she placed her head on his shoulder, "Come on Woo, I'm not gonna do anything bad or careless, I'll keep you well informed."

Letting out a huff he leaned his head onto hers, of course, he was still angry, but his body would often react on his own around her, a fact he discovered back in middle school, the first time he had seen her, the first time he had embarrassed himself in front of her.

The 10-year-old boy, the 'king' of the playground, was busy ordering his loyal servants around in the sandbox when this little critter popped up, marching over to him with watery eyes and a runny nose, her fists clenched by her side as she stomped into the sandbox shoving away his 'royal guards' and pointing at him, "Are you the king?"

"Who wants to know!?" Smirking he adjusted his robes- towels, the guest towels he stole from home- atop his head that his paper crown, an ugly orange colour might she add.

Sniffing she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand before looking at him, "I want to ride the swings!" She yelled at him, before moving closer to shove him- mind you, she only did so because her parents had always told her never to back down when she was in the right- and two mean boys not letting her on the swings because their king said so was not right.

Steadying himself he glared at her, eying her up and down, he was a feminish or fashionist or something like that, his mother told him to be one too, so equal rights it is, which is why he shoved her harder watching her land on her butt, laughing in the process as his loyal servants began to laugh too- that his until he saw the dejected look on her face, he had assumed she would fight back like most kids, but she got up, wiped her eyes and slowly walked away with her head hung in shame, something about the little girl all sad in her floral summer dress had him feel all funny in his stomach- or chest? The point is he initially ignored it, too focused on his victory, happy the king remained all-powerful.

What he did not expect was the peasant girl to come to his house with her parents- what a snitch. That night Wooyoung had to apologise to her, not because he took the swings because as his mother quoted while pinching his ear, "A FEMINIST DOESN'T HIT A WOMAN. HE BEFRIENDS HER." Ah, so it was feminist. Though her parents had not come to complain, they had actually moved in as neighbours and wanted to meet their neighbours, his family, but who knew the youngest (for now) child of the Jung household had left a bad impression on the Lee Family's one and only Princess. Since that day his mother had forced him to befriend her, to go over to her house and play, to drop her off to her class- thankfully they were not in the same section, but that's because she was smart and well...he was good-looking.

Perhaps it was fate that had him slowly understanding her awkward and shy nature, how she was somewhat similar to him when it came to what she wanted, she'd whine and complain but the only difference between the two was that she'd always find a way to get it- want a Lego set? Get good grades and you will- she did. Want to eat ice cream? Eat your veggies, she did, she even ate his.

Wooyoung, nah, he wasn't one to take such big risks, to come out of his comfort zone. In fact, after the arrival of the youngest new addition to the Jung family, Wooyoung wasn't happy, what teenager wants a baby brother? Who does that? The night his brother was born, he wasn't at the hospital like his father or his older brother and the Lee family, including her, no, he had climbed up the rusty pipe she had told him a billion times not to use, plucked open the lock of her window and entered her dark room- yes, her parents knew he would do that, his parents knew too, he was the only one allowed to that, for a king is ever ready to go to his queen, especially at the time of distress. He took a step into her bedroom, taking off his shoes and placing them on the small shoe rack set next to the window for him, and hopped onto her bed, stuffing his face into her pillows, her peach shampoo smothering him with affection, before letting out a strangled cry, which opened the flood gates to a tsunami of everything, he had been bottling up since the news of his mother's pregnancy had surfaced. The way his friends teased him, calling it gross, the way everyone was now busy not paying attention to him, the way he was no longer important. Why were they having another child anyway? Was he not enough? Of course, he wasn't as perfect as his older brother but were they only trying again because they were fed up with him? He was leaving for college soon- were they replacing him?

He really didn't know how long it went on for, but a few too many tears later, his eyes had dried out, but his laboured breathing hadn't ceased, that us until he felt calming fingers sift through his hair, the bed dipping beside him as he heard a gentle, "Woo...I knew I'd find you here- staining my sheets with your snot, you giant baby."

Ah, she never was gentle with her words, perhaps that is what karma was, making him fall for her, probably harder than he had pushed her when they were kids, watching him simmer in her snarky comments and such mixed cues of attention- well perhaps that's what he deserved for being a b*tch all the time- I'd didn't matter, for a king always gives into his queen.

Sighing he tried to move, only to freeze when he realised her entire weight was on him, his eyes meeting San who was frowning at him, though the broad-shouldered man holding a raspberry lolly looked comical, especially when he glared at him like that.

“What?”

“She’s asleep Jung.”

“No way? Really?” He scoffed, gently manoeuvring her to lay her head on his thigh, brushing the hair out of her eyes, before reaching for San’s cap on the wooden table, ignoring the man as he placed it on her eyes, shielding her from the horrid, too bright and ugly sun.

“You’re hopeless.” He huffed before standing up, collecting the trash and slinging his bag over his shoulder, “Just…don’t do something you’ll regret, man.”

“What are you? The Magic-Eight ball or something.” He mumbled, before waving him off, “Be gone, now, I’m sure that girl from ‘Philosophy’ is waiting for you at the library to pull out books from the top shelf for her again.” He smirked, watching the way San’s face flushed at the mention of his somewhat secret crush, mumbling some very vulgar words at Wooyoung before stomping away.

“Okay, there, all better.”

“Kiss it better.”

She moved back to stare at him, extremely close to smacking him once more but decided not to when he sat there with his eyes closed for her. Rolling her eyes, she leaned closer placing a quick peck on the tip of his nose before quickly hopping off the bed, mumbling about what kind of idiot he was, not catching the way he was smiling like an idiot at her. She was wearing one of his hoodies, he liked that, they were in her dorm room, he liked that, he was surrounded by her, he really liked that- truth be told he had followed her to this university as well, honestly, sometimes he did think of blurting it out to her- but was it worth ruining everything with her, just to satisfy his itty-bitty heart that had begun to beat for nothing but her.

“So, will you help me or not?”

Her question caught her off guard, eying the way she sat down across him, placing a bowl of chips between them, “Woo, will you teach me how to flirt or not?” pushing the bowl towards him as he sighed before shrugging, “Why do you wanna learn anyway-

“Because I like Park Seonghwa!” she whined, “He’s so pretty and sweet and he’s a wonderful senior and-

“If a guy likes you, he likes you for you, not because you learn how to flirt.” He cut her off before picking up a chip and placing (shoving) in her parted mouth, cackling when she choked on it, smacking his hand away as she turned around and swallowed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and turning to glare at him, “Funny how I’ve been doing that since high school and I have never even gone on a date- I am not even remotely likeable.”

“You don’t need to go on a date to deduce if you’re likeable or not.”

“How can you say that!? Do you like me?”

“Yes.”

For a moment his quick sat between them, staring at the two as she looked at him wide-eyed, scanning his face like a curious, scared kitty, only to be met with an intense stare, his eyes staring- no piercing through her soul as if he were trying to say something without saying it, do something without doing it, feel something without feeling it. Ever so slowly he moved closer to her, watching her breath hitch, fingers gripping her sweatpants as he stopped to look at her before giving her a soft smile, trying to read her, yet his signal was not transmitted for once again their frequencies did not match, causing him to move back and look away, scanning her studio apartment, a piece of him was in this room- no, several little pieces of him were present within this canvas, traces of his soul, the scent of his being; from his spare sneakers to his scarf on the kitchen chair, to the coat hanging off the coat hook on the main door, to his ‘special morning Garfield mug on the dishrack.’

“Woo…” she whispered, causing him to slowly turn back to look at her, a small melancholic smile gracing his features, one she noted as she gulped, though her parched throat made swallowing difficult- no, she was reading this wrong, Wooyoung deserved, Wooyoung wanted far more than her, he always had, he always will.

“Let’s do it.” Smiling he stood up before stretching, ignoring how she was staring up at him as he scratched his head before looking around, “It’s getting late, I promised San I’ll cook tonight.”

“Yo-you don’t have to, I can-”

“Classes start tomorrow, after four, there are two conditions.” He cut her off, walking over to the door as he pulled off his coat, staring at it for a moment before hanging it back on her door- why not let his presence be there till it was time to move out- “First, I will accept your payment in meals, after every lesson you will treat me to a home-cooked meal and secondly, you will do whatever I say, do we have a deal?”

Walking over to him she stood in the hallway, staring up at him in awe, the warm light above him hitting just right, accentuating his features in a way that her heart may as well have hopped onto his palm if she were to stare at him for any longer, so all she could do was nod at his deal, all she could do was stand there when he placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze before pressing his forehead against hers, mumbling, “See you tomorrow, my little gremlin.”

“God, I- I am not wearing this” she huffed throwing the top back at him as he rolled his eyes, holding it up by the strings, “This, is a summer dress, with spaghetti strings, many girls wear it and I think- Seonghwa would like it.”

Sighing in defeat she took it from him, before walking over to the washroom to change, leaving him sitting on the bed as he looked around her room, lying down as he sighed, arms behind his head as he stared up at the cheap 3D glowing stars on the ceiling, one’s they had put stuck up on the ceiling the on the first night she had moved into her dorm, making the zodiac constellation for him and her, then the two had laid there, side by side, staring up at it until they eventually fell asleep in each other’s arms.

“H-how do I look?”

His eyes snapped open at her voice turning his head to inspect her, only to end up feeling like he was punched in the gut, the air knocked right out of him, slowly sat up as he turned to her, eyes roaming every inch of her frame, he had seen her wearing his clothes so much, that he had forgotten that she indeed was much smaller than him- no- she indeed was a girl.

“W-Woo?”

Clearing his throat, he stood up and smiled at her, “You look like you can flirt.” Giving her a thumbs up he grabbed her hand and walked towards the main door, making sure to grab his wallet and phone, ignoring her babbling, “Now, we see what you do on a date- you gotta experience it girlie, a café date is the best of its kind.”

That was exactly how she had found herself stuck to him as the two walked down the pathway to the local café, the setting sun doing her a favour and not burning against her skin, though the wind only had her feeling conscious, especially when the ends of the tied strings would tickle her shoulders or the hem of her dress would tease her, causing her to grip his arm, pulling him closer for some form of support. Wooyoung on the other hand, no he was having the time of his life, never had he felt something so soft and warm press up against him and he thanked that horrid magazine he had found with dating advice for the choice of dress he had picked for her, the pastel pink mid-thigh dress really did do her wonders, really did make him feel like he was in high school again-

“Woo…I feel like everyone is s-staring.” She mumbled, pressing her face into his arm as he sighed, “Babe, it's not like you’ve never worn a dress before, sure this one is a little more on the bolder side but-” his words came to a halt when his eyes met with a glossy pair, one pleading him to save him from the way the boys around them were eying her down, sizing her up.

“Thank you, Woo.” She smiled, pulling his denim jacket close to her frame as she sat on the opposite chair, glad that most of her body was covered again, especially from prying eyes, “I knew I could count on you.”

Taking her out was a bad idea, not only was she gaining a lot of attention but she was making it difficult for him to hold himself back, to keep those three words, not the redundant and overused "I like you" but a feeling he had been covering with layers and layers of sarcasm and petty fights, a feeling his heart could never truly accept, could never truly feel, could ever truly float in, even if it were drowning in it, "Love me too".

The cafe trip was cut short when the very nice waitress was kind enough to point out how cute of a couple they were, and instead of letting her correct the waitress, he cut her off with a small thank you, then looked at her. What did that mean? Was he trying to teach her? Was this part of flirting? She did not understand.

It irked him how she was clueless, how she wanted him to spell it out for her but he wasn't going to, not when the fear of rejections loomed over him, waiting for the right moment to slice the beating pound of flesh in his chest in half. The walk home had been uncomfortable, she was no longer clinging onto him, and the jacket had provided her enough cover, but he'd be lying if he were to say he didn't like it on her. At least there was part of him she was willing to hold onto, even if it was temporary. The walk home was silent, eerie, quiet and perhaps a bit too loud with the sound of anything but them, that is until he finally stopped at the door of her dorm room, staring at her when she unlocked the door and walked inside, leaving it open for him, only for her to turn around in the small, dimly lit corridor of the entrance to look at him, look up at him all confused and doe eyed, in his garment, covering her frame, her eyes swirling with a form of curiosity that had his fingers twitching, his soul begging to be set free from the confines of his useless flesh, "Woo?"

"Next lesson...is...indoors, I'll text the details." With that he had closed the door but did not leave, instead, he waited outside, waiting for her to lock it, his forehead resting against the mahogany, counting till ten, sighing in relief when he heard the gentle click. This was a bad idea. He was so pathetic he told her he would help her, yet he couldn’t even pull through one day properly, some best friend he was.

She lay awake the entire night, tossing at turning in bed as every 10 minutes she would check her phone for his text, but there was none. He had not even responded to her goodnight message, prick. That was exactly why she was late to class, and almost thrown out too but the lecturer had not been too busy trying to actually figure out how to use the projector. She had slipped in, trying to find an empty spot, which she did after a couple of minutes, choosing to sit in the only available seat at the corner of the class, she sighed, taking out her book, only to pause when she heard someone groan next to her, turning to the source of noise she let out a small gasp.

“What the hell happened to you?” she whispered, leaning closer to the hunched-over figure in black, as she yanked back the hood of his hoodie, earning another small whine.

“Stop…yelling.” He mumbled, pressing his forehead against the table.

“I’m not, Woo.” With a sigh she ran her fingers through his hair, trying to figure out what on earth he had done this time. It was uncommon for her to find her Wooyoung this battered and bruised, it was uncommon for her to find her Wooyoung this tired, just blatantly showing all his bits that he wasn’t proud of, to her or the world, “Were you drinking last night…I thought you were going to text me the details.”

‘I was drinking to get you off my damn mind’, is what he wanted to say, but when he snapped his head in her direction, he was met by a gaze so endearing, a gaze that held a certain affectionate warmth to it, one that made him wonder if he were ready to let this very being that frustrated him and infatuated him with an unimaginable amount of love slip through his fingers. So, after a moment of thinking, he turned back to the board and slowly nodded, “I…Let’s go after class…next lesson…wake me up at the end?”

“Why were you drinking mid-week anyway?” she asked, though he never answered, instead he slowly pushed her upper body away from the table, only to lean down onto her lap, his head resting on her thighs as he closed his eyes, mumbling an, “Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answer to.”

What did that even mean? Honestly, he had become very difficult for her to read, sometimes she assumed it was because he had no interest in her, other times she just thought it was not difficult because of the crush she had developed on him- one that was pointless since he never really noticed the hints she’d drop, she knew for him, she’d always be the goody-two-shoes that lived next door. But then again, she was never his type, she was not like any of his exes, in both physical presence and mentally- well, she didn’t want to be like them in terms of mental state- most were more interested in his physical presence than who he was as a person- then he’d come running back to her, and every time he would she’d tell him the same thing, “That’s what you get for someone dating someone who doesn’t like animals.” Though he’d argue with the ‘Yah! Do I look like a dog to you?’, that wasn’t it though- or maybe she was calling him a dog, who was to say? The fact of the matter was, at the end of the day, she would always be his just best friend, and this is why Seonghwa had happened to slip into the picture, she needed to move on, and maybe someone as sweet, smart and smokin’ hot (she should stop spending so much time with Wooyoung) would be good for her.

“Wakey, wakey, you successfully slept through an hour-long lecture.” Carding her finger through his hair she frowned when he clenched his eyes shut, why was he being so difficult? Was he trying to avoid her or something else? Was he tired of her being around him all the time? Did he not text her last night because he wanted her to drop it? The whole Seonghwa thing because maybe he knew she was hopeless, if him knowing her for years led to nothing, how would a stranger, a handsome, well-mannered, angel-like stranger like her and-

“Are you constipated?”

“Huh?” Casting her eyes down at him, she met a curious, droopy gaze, it was only then that she realised that she had been absentmindedly caressing his cheek, drawing intricate patterns on his soft skin, though even at the realisation she did not stop- how could she? Perhaps this was the last time she’d ever touch him, ever be this intimate with him. Sighing she shook her head, mumbling, “No…why?”

“Then why are you frowning like that?” he groaned, sitting up, stretching his arms over his head before letting out a loud, ungraceful yawn and scratching his head, looking around the empty class- if he were to make out with her right now, they would never even be caught- Wooyoung, you’re not even dating her- true, but the way she had been pouting just made him want to- “Where are you going?” he turned to her when he heard her shuffle, standing up and collecting her stuff, pausing to look at him, “Going back to my dorm… I’m tired.”

With that she walked away, not sure if she was mad at him, or upset at the thought of the hemlock of reality she was to swallow eventually, maybe she just wanted him to somehow disappear- rather if he was out of sight, he’d be out of mind- right? It’s not like she had spent all night staying up waiting for his text. It’s not like she rolled around in bed before devouring an entire pastry (she had been saving for the weekend) in tension and anticipation. It’s not like she had cried herself to sleep knowing that tomorrow she’d have to wake up and pretend her heart did not beat for a man who had carelessly dropped it years ago.

“W-wait!” running after her he jogged up to her until he was walking beside her, glancing down to note how she was not even trying to look up at him with her usual smile- shit. He really messed up, he didn’t know she was so determined for Seonghwa- this thought just added more salt to the nasty green that brewed within him, the ugly, vomit-like green that had him ranting to San all night, chugging down one too many beers, enough for him to wake up with a horrible hangover that even San’s hangover juice couldn’t fix- what did that f*cker know anyway, he didn’t drink and the girl he had been pinning over had been secretly pinning over him- not that he’d help San figure out, he had his own issues, honestly liking your academic rival isn’t the smartest thing anyway.

“Well, see you later.”

With that she walked into the building, only to have him follow her, she turned to look at him as he looked down at her with a sheepish smile, a nervous chuckle breaking the silence when she raised a brow, only to die down when she turned back around and started climbing up the stairs again, only for him to follow hot on her trail. Once again stopping right behind her when she stopped to open the door-incorrect, he had bumped into her, only for her to turn around and glare at him for a good minute, only turning when he gently gripped her shoulders and turned her around to the door, mumbling, “We still have one lesson left- I’ll combine two in one, special deal for my special girl.”

Cringing at the words, that stung her heart harder than imaginable, opening the door for and entering, not really waiting for him to enter or not, as she kicked off her shoes and flopped face first on the bed.

For a moment she could hear only the clattering of pots and pans, and the sound of a microwave and then the usual, gentle, unforgettable humming began to float in the air, dancing around her being, at this point, she didn’t even know what he was singing but that it was smoothening enough to lull her to sleep.

She didn’t know how long she was asleep, but she woke up when he gently shook her, whispering nonsense in her ear- oh wait no he’s talking about food. Soon enough she was sitting on the floor, sitting in front of her was the idiot, platting for her and himself, yapping about how he spent the entire afternoon sleeping and all she did was sleep, but that’s okay because she needed the rest, the list continued; Yangnyeom Chicken, Tteok-bokki and even ordered something sweet just for her-

“Why are you being so nice?”

Her words caused him to stop, as he looked at her, eyes narrowing at her for a split second before he took a deep breath, thinking about his words then speaking, “For ghosting you last night-”

“No, that’s not what I asked, and you know it- first you said no to even helping me, then you suddenly decided to help, you made me dress differently than I do, you didn’t even let me correct the waitress when she called you my boyfriend and- and then you just let her!” she didn't know when she started yelling, but when she stopped to take a deep breath, her eyes caught the whirlpool of emotions, she probably should’ve stopped, but she didn’t, years of it boiling and bubbling within her- she felt exploited, she felt cheated and misguided- hell she was even mad at herself, she was his best friend but was that enough of a reason for her to keep hurting? Perhaps she was hurting, but she wanted him to hurt too, even if that meant she would never see him again, “Then you ghost me like I don’t even exist! What is your problem!? Don’t you see what you’re doing to me? How can you do this!?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”

The next couple of seconds were probably the worst he had ever spent in silence, his chest burning with every breath he heaved in, staring at her, the grip on his glass tightening, feeling the world around them constrict, squeezing in around them- or so he thought, he had yet to face the worst and when that moment arrived, it felt like he was slapped in the face, enough to have it stinging for days, especially when the words settled around them, the two words that she had, oh so casually, thrown at him like it didn’t matter at all like he didn’t matter at all like they never mattered at all. Instantly his brain had switched off, tuning out anything and everything that he could sense, wanting the earth to swallow him whole, wanting nothing more but to take a cold shower, to possibly feel something again, to possibly let out all he was feeling, to possibly forget her- forget them.

“Nah, bro.”

Did she f*ck up? Yes. Was she aware she f*cked up? Again, yes. She had realised what she had done as soon as the words had slipped past her lips- mind you, in her many years of being friends with this moron she had picked up a few bad habits from him, like staying up late at night, reading the end of a book first (just in case it had a sad end so she could throw it away) and perhaps losing the ability to think before she spoke- this one was a new trait she had acquired, one she had discovered just last night, as soon as he had slammed the door in her face, running away, ignoring her as she yelled out his name, waking up almost every other girl in the building. And no, he chose not to answer her calls or her texts- hell she even woke up poor San, who wasn’t at the dorm, weird, where exactly was he sleeping on a Thursday night if not at the dorm, she should ask Wooyo- oh wait, she can't! Because she F*CKED UP AND HE WAS IGNORING HER! Like hell!? She didn’t even mean the ‘Nah, bro.’ as an insult or a rejection, but for some reason after he dropped the ‘L’ bomb on her, that was all her brain could process at that given moment, perhaps because she was so stunned by the fact that he didn’t just like her back, he loved her! And she loved him. So, the nah bro was more like an ‘oh damn’, or an ‘oh god’ or an ‘oh wow’- okay, none of those seem like good responses when someone confesses to you, but see! That’s the point, it was so spontaneous- maybe she should’ve just kissed him- nah, she wouldn’t trespass his physical being like that- maybe she should’ve patted his shoulder? - wait, what if he hated her now? Realised it was a mistake and he was glad she messed up so he’d never have to see her again- oh no.

Slamming her hands on his door she let out a shaky breath, the intensity of her knocks increasing, this was not how she had expected her Sunday morning to go, breaking into the boy's dorms at university, slamming her fists so loud that the whole block may as well be awake. Was she risking expulsion, probably, but was he worth it- oh for sure.

"WOOYOUNG!"

"WHAT!"

The door slammed open, revealing a dishevelled Wooyoung, in nothing but his underwear, eyes widening at the realisation that it was in fact not Yunho who was bothering him in his early hours of brooding, but the source of his heartbreak had come to him. Now, mind you, the man lived with other men and never in his life did he imagine the girl he had been simping for, his own best friend, would come up to him in his domain like this, the same girl he had confessed to the night before, laid his heart bear and open for her to trample over like a wench- "Is that my hoodie?"

She stared at him, no, she shamelessly ogled at the boy-man- she had spent bullying and playing around with in her younger days. In front of her was not her annoying, stupid, dumb, irritating best friend but a who the fk, what the fk, why the fk- her chain of thought broke at his question.

"Wh-what?" breathing out, still trying to catch her breath from the extensive running she had done up the flight of stairs- curse him for living in a building with no elevator- that and the sight before her had her all hot and bothered even more. Note to self, this was- no wonder he was the king of the playground, she’d be his queen any day- well he did want her to be one until she managed to ‘wooyoung’ herself.

"Why-" shaking his head, he rubbed his face before crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the door frame, did she look all adorable, flushed pink, hair a mess and in his hoodie? Yes, was he still mad at her, definitely- so he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of getting a quick reaction this time. He had spent all night crying, all night wondering and thinking of all the possibilities and incidences that could have her give this kind of response, this king of rejection, for her to just…just say something like that. He tried calling San but that useless butt was sleeping at someone’s (of course it was that girl from Philosophy 101- he’d seen them giggling like teens way back in the library- see, even he had someone, public or not- so no, he was not going to give her the satisfaction of him giving into her so easily, “What do you want?"

"I- you- I mean- oh my god- we like- f*cked." the words jumbled up, tumbling out of her mouth before her brain could from the sentence, "I f*cked up, my god, I do like you."

He knew what she meant, but he wouldn't be Wooyoung if he said so, hence the crooked smile that adorned his slightly puffy face, eyes heavy and droopy with sleep, "Unfortunately we haven't, but we could if you'd like”.

She stared at him for a good second, trying to process his response before raising her hand and slapping him across the face, enough for it to echo across the corridor and him to let out a mixture of a whimper and growl, hand on his burning cheek as he glared at her through bleary eyes, “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

“ME? YOU CAN’T YELL I LOVE YOU AND THEN RUN AWAY-”

“YOU REJECTED ME! YOU CALLED ME BRO?!”

“IT WAS JUST AN EXPRESSION- I WAS SHOCKED OKAY! I DIDN’T THINK YOU LIKED ME BACK I-”

“I DON’T LIKE YOU BACK! I LOVE YOU!”

“And I’d love to report you two, but considering how I know she’s usually triggered by your stupidity, I’ll let you off with a warning.” The two turned around (well she did, he just frowned and scoffed before mumbling something and going inside the apartment), quickly bowing and apologising she stood up straight, face flushed with embarrassment, only to receive a gentle smile.

“Didn’t know you two were so dense, most of us thought you two were already dating…. anyway, please take this inside, we can’t have others know there's a girl here, as the Prefect I’ll keep it a secret since you’re my junior.” He winked before walking away- Park Seonghwa was so cool- OH WAIT WOOYOUNG.

Closing the door behind her she ran to his room only to find him putting on a shirt- dang- before he sat down on the bed and stared at her, raising an eyebrow at her pout, especially when she walked over to him and whined, flopping onto him- falling onto him- only to hiss when their heads collided as he threw her off her (next to him on the bed), whining “Are you stupid?”

“Yeah…” she whimpered, rubbing her forehead as she lay on her side, looking at his side profile, admiring his side profile, could she do this openly, since they were now a couple- or at least were going to become one? “Stupid for you.”

Turning his head to her, grimacing at the choice of her words, well, he needed to get used to the poor pick-up lines, not that he would mind of course- “I love you too.”

Her words brought him back to them, sighing when he felt her press her hand against his pink cheek, feeling her thumb caress the stinging skin, scooting closer to her as he carelessly draped an arm around her waist pulling her even closer- he wanted more, the proximity between them to completely finish, but he couldn’t push her, he could never- he knew she took things slow and he’d let her no matter how long he had to wait- his eyes widened at the sudden pressure he felt on his lips, though it was gone as soon as it came, causing him to whine, looking back at her as she covered her face with her hands, mumbling an, “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Same, sis.”

“Hey!” sitting up she glared down at him only for him to shrug, “Now you know how it felt.” He smirked all smug before moving further up the bed until his back was pressed against the padded headboard, opening his arms wide for her, a gesture the two understood all too well, a small smile gracing his lips when she instantly snuggled up in his arms, melting into his embrace when he kissed the top of her head, only for him to giggle when she returned the gesture by pressing her lips against his pulse point, feeling her warm breath against him as he sighed, “So…no more Seonghwa?”

“Only needed him to move on from you.”

“Damn…” he sighed, squeezing her closer, not that she minded, she was finally getting the attention she deserved, the love she deserved, the love they deserved. It was a moment of purity, a moment of joy, a moment of sincerity that nothing and no one could ruin- “I was my own c*ckblock.”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

A/N: Well that was a long wait- not like I have a project due on Monday but damn- I'm glad I finally finished this- I really hope it is worth the read.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt @spooo00oky @slaayysis

252 notes · View notes

averagecygnet-blog · 2 months

Text

emma is the villain of tgwdlm

I need to talk about this oh my god

because it's told from the hive's perspective. paul is the protagonist because he is the one who resists them but must ultimately come to accept that they're right. emma is the one who must be beaten through force.

the difference between the hero and the villain is that the hero must change, while the villain cannot. (I'm not speaking in universals here, just generalizations of how the narrative structures work that tgwdlm uses in parody.) the hero and the villain both hold a belief that represents the thematic evil; by the end of the story, the hero must undergo apotheosis, which is to say, ultimate unity with the thematic good. once this is achieved, he can defeat the villain, who represents the thematic evil completely and is incapable of change.

to the hive, "good" is unquestioning conformity to the group's ideals, specifically, singing and dancing in sync with everybody else. "evil" is refusing to sing and dance along when, clearly, you want to.

paul is the perfect protagonist because he resists song and dance, but largely because it makes him uncomfortable. getting out of your comfort zone is necessary for change! it's a good thing to let yourself go through something uncomfortable in order to come out the other side better and stronger for it. (that much is true; however, sometimes discomfort is a legitimate sign that you should stay away from something.) paul has never really tried singing or dancing, and deep down, is afraid that if he tried it, he might like it. exactly the sort of person who can be converted and used as a shining example of the hive's righteousness.

emma must be the villain because her refusal to fall in line is a choice. she can sing, she can dance, she was in brigadoon in high school and she fuckin killed it, she is even taught a whole ass song with choreography by the hive on their first morning in hatchetfield (emma's comment about how they have to sing "all the time, apparently!" and zoey's implied presence at the theater when the meteor hit - because she was with sam, and sam was there - strongly suggests that nora and zoey were zombified all morning and she had no idea). it's stated by hidgens and suggested by nora and zoey that getting a human to sing/dance along with them is supposed to be a sort of mesmerizing tactic that the hive uses to start synchronizing a person to the hive mind, but emma refuses. she sings and she dances, just like they want, but she chooses to actively hate it the whole time, on principle. she can't be convinced; they have to swarm her, surround her on all sides. let it out is meant to win paul to their side; inevitable is just to gloat.

in the bar scene in hidgens' bunker, emma says that she must be the villain to paul's hero because she was in the musical that got him to hate musicals. on the one hand, she had it backwards; she's the villain because according to the hive, the all-encompassing narrative power, he's not supposed to hate musicals. on the other hand, she's kind of right: paul is the protagonist because he is the guy who didn't like musicals, while emma is the villain because she has the capacity to like musicals as well as experience in them, but has chosen to reject them.

who is the hero and who is the villain all depends on who is telling the story. and the hive is telling this story. don't forget that.

#starkid #team starkid #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #media analysis #literary analysis #hero's journey #tgwdlm emma #tgwdlm paul #emma perkins #paul matthews #lauren lopez #jon matteson #nick lang #matt lang #jeff blim

310 notes · View notes

fawnpires · 1 year

Text

┆.° ♡ — just a random concept about mean!ellie in college hate-fucking the popular girl that seemingly 'hates' her at some party they've both found theirselves at.

[ଘ] content warnings: usage of a strap-on, mean!ellie, dirty talk, semi-public sex, degradation & praise, squirting, mirror sex, ellie giving backshots, pussy-slapping, use of pet names, hate-fucking.

[ଘ] note(s): haven't written for tlou or ellie at all before but whewww, have i had this thought for a while so like this is completely self-indulgent (and very short!) ♡

"This what you want baby, huh?" she asks, "To go dumb on someone's cock for once just to shut that mouth up?"

The marble of the bathroom's counter dented the soft, pliant flesh of your bare legs. With your laced panties pooled at your ankles, the skirt of your dress pulled up to your waist, her hips clashing right with your ass, and the blaring music of the party just out-of-bounds from the locked bathroom which Ellie fucks you in — the scene was straight-up erotic, something ripped from a store-bought porno. Thankfully, the music was at it's maximum volume to drain out the whiny moans and whimpers that she tears from your raw throat.

Lengthy fingers wrapped at the structure of your jaw, practically forcing you to view the sight which you fall victim to; spread legs, a quivering bent body, and a desperate mouth aligned with a variety of noises the girl pulls from you. Underneath the low fluorescent bulb of the bathroom, sweat glistens over your thighs and sticks to the remains of clothes she hasn't decide to rip off of you.

"Ellie! s'too much, please..." Your voice comes strained, but coherent enough for her to distinguish into proper words. Ellie only chuckles at the pathetic state she herself drags you down into. In response, the grip on your jaw increases into a harsher touch, securing your head in place. "M'sorry, please, I'll never embarrass you again..."

"You can handle it, baby," she replies, almost soft and assuring, "Besides I'm only doing what you're known to do best, spreading your slutty legs." her words sharpen, tone hardened. "Isn't that right? That's why a slut like you loves this so much — you love how I fuck you because I hate you as much as you hate me."

The material of her strap pounds right into your needy cunt, high-pitched whines falling from widened lips as it never fails to meet with your puffy lips. By this time, you had no choice but to savor how the girl you once hated made you feel and with no doubts; you falter to the impossible admission that Ellie had turned you, the vain popular girl, into her own personal fleshlight. From where she stood, she lingers her eager eyes to your drenched cunt laced with your arousal. Taking her right hand from the place on your waist, she parts your dripping folds, her thumb in contact to your swollen clit; your legs quiver against the sink while you mewled at the additional pleasure.

"Oh, Ellie!" your hands find purchase at the margins of the sink she forces you against, eyes nearly rolled beyond their sockets at the pace her strap-on pounds into your cunt at. Her singular thumb brought down and slotted between your thighs causing your nub to feel entirely raw, delicate to her rough touch. "M' gonna cum, need it so bad!"

She grunts under her breath. "Not yet — I wanna hear this from you first; who's turning you into a cockdrunk whore, sweetie?"

With your fogged-up head full of rapture, you're not immediate to give her a retort to her question; the hand that rubs at your clit abruptly halting, instead a sharp twinge comes into association with the engorged lips of your cunt. You manage a squeal from your glossed-spit lips, legs jerking and tears colliding with streaks of your fallen mascara at the overstimulating sting.

"Fuck! Mmph, God... it's you, Ellie!" you nearly scream out, compressing yourself right onto the weight of her strap. "Only you!"

"That's right, baby," she straightens her posture, adjusting her hands back onto your waist for more anchorage before pounding into your cunt without breaks, almost nearing animalistic territory. "I'm the only one who can take of this achy bitch cunt, god, it's almost pathetic."

Her thrusts are rapid, warmth pooling to your abdomen in a pressuring sensation. The sight mirrored right to the front of you grew blurry through your own pair-shared vision, bundle of nerves rubbing right up against her strap just enough to bump at your clit. Arrangements of whines and squeals shamefully fall past your lips that had grown tender overtime from the constant biting and attempts at muffing your noises behind gritted teeth — which ultimately failed at the end.

Ellie leans herself down to the naked expanse of your sweat-coated back, lips kissing down the skin in a rare moment of benevolence. "Can feel you loosin' up for me around my cock, honey. Give it to me, make a mess out of yourself."

At her abiding words reveberating in the fogged barriers of your fucked-out head, her unforgiving thrusts through the capacity of your tight cunt cause the pressuring warmth to relinquish; a bursting rush of liquid transmits through your stimulated cunt and drips down the shape which your spread legs prop at as well as drenching the silicone of her strap plunged right up at the base of your cervix. The upper-half of your body sweeps of any persisting stability, slumping over the sink while two quivering hands pressed to the surface of the moist mirror hoist yourself up.

"Shit," she pants out a curse, the brawn of her two hands at your waist flipping your limp self over so that she was in a viewpoint above you, "Might hate your guts, honey, but there's no denying that you look fuckin' beautiful after a good fuck."

#・₊˚ʚ 📁 — ꒰ ellie. ꒱#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams fanfic #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us drabble #the last of us fanfiction #drabble #female reader #.୨୧ fawnpires

2K notes · View notes

you-fuckin-judas · 2 months

Text

The beautiful discussion of love through physical touch

[young royals s3 spoilers]

We are back where we started, but this season was full of BEAUTIFUL moments of this conversation through physical touch. Wille & Simon have learned and grown so much together, and it so VERY clear in how we see it.

LETS DISCUSS [and cry again together]

1. I'm just glad you're okay.

Let's start somewhere familiar, but dealt with in a new way. Simon has once a gain experienced violence as a result of online hate, and again Wille wants to be there to protect and comfort him. BEFORE when Simon was in times of stress he would push Wille away, unsure and stifled by the emotions of the moment.

BUT this time. THIS time he welcomes it, the warmth Wille has offered out and breathes it in. This moment is beautiful, in the way that they are communicating verbally and physically. They both sit there together, in the embrace. Together.

2. We have a new member of the choir

THIS moment right here, I won't lie had me running laps in my house. We just left the choir practice where literally everything was golden, the lighting, Simon's shirt, his face when it was announced Wille was joining.

EVERYTHING was golden.

We then have moved to this VERY intimate space, no music in the scene. no other members of the school in the locker area either. JUST the two of them, and their love for each other literally EXPLODING.

I have said it before and I will say it again : Omar is VERY good at depicting Simons love through his hands. Exploring Wille. His hair. His face. His chest. His neck. Literally anywhere he can reach. It's literally like he's soaking him up like a sponge.

Not in a intense, overwhelming way. But more of a : I think you're beautiful and I love every part of you. and I want to show you that.

3. Hey

If we have ever seen these two, it's always fueled with passion and intense love. We hardly are able to see them in situations where they are sensitive and soft with each other.

let's be for real, they hardly ever were given a second of PEACE.

THIS moment is so beautiful, so GENTLE. They see each other at school for the first time, and in front of everyone they share a kiss. THE WARMTH of it makes my HEART WARM. For the first time in front of their peers, in the open, in the light they can share their love.

Neither one shys away from it, and again we see Simon wandering with his hands on Wille, so comfortable in his love.

Also, I want to point out that they both are in bolder colors much different than what we are used to seeing them in.

Usually we see Wille in his signature structured school jacket, as well as in darker hues. Here we see him in this soft, plush pink sweater.

Simon we are used to seeing in purples, looser colder colors. Whereas here he's back in that beautiful golden hue, just shining.

4. Working out

Once again, we are in front of our peers. Bold in our choices physically. We see them working out, Simon joking with Wille.

We of course discuss the trip, but we cut to this quick but beautiful moment of their love to just be with each other.

Their smiles, their closeness, their confidence in their love in that beautiful lighting.

BYE THIS ONE WAS SO WHOLESOME I HAD TO.

5. What was your dream?

First episode of the season, we have already been met with an uncomfortable situation full of tension and anxiety.

They are both able to take a break and Wille takes Simon on a small tour in his home, of course like magnets they once again can't stay away from each other.

We have this intimate moment, where I won't lie I was worried SOMEONE was going to walk in because oh my GOD the timing??, and this discussion physically.

Of course the switching of who is in control, both laughing in joy by just being with each other again. We switch into this extremely passionate tone, but I want to point out something.

We obviously couldn't care less that one; we have our shoes on in this bed. Two; that both of them aren't on it properly. I'm only pointing it out because Simon is literally 2 inches from falling off it, but he couldn't care less because Wille has him in his arms and he trusts him. He's not trying to scoot back on it because he's gonna fall, he doesn't care because he knows Wille won't let him fall.

Once again, Simon showing his love with his hands in Wille's hair, his face. And Wille showing his love by holding Simon and not letting him fall.

ALSO the lighting? STUNNING.

6. What the hell do you think?

LETS TALK ABOUT HOW THIS SCENE HAD ME CRYING LIKE I HAVE NEVER CRIED BEFORE. I was furiously checking the time left on the episode I was so SCARED.

ALRIGHT I saved my favorite for last on this post. Let's go.

THE EXPLOSION of relief from them, from US was absolutely insane. The collision of this hug? I could HEAR it. They were hugging so tightly their ribcages might have locked together.

We also have this BEAUTIFUL lighting, the LUSH green behind them, the fresh air.

I want to applaud the acting from them here because the relief you could see, I don't know about you but I could feel it in my throat. Their hands grabbing at each other, holding as tight as they could, scared to let go? GOD.

Simon's FACE, the tears, the way his hands won't leave Wille and his face. He cannot believe that this is real, that this is really happening. He is just so overwhelmed with emotions and love it absolutely is breathtaking to see it.

I'm sorry but this was the most beautiful scene I have ever seen. Their overwhelming love for each other, their joy at finally being FREE. You can see it; their hands not leaving each other, their SMILES, their eyes locked.

Will I do an in depth discussion on this finale sequence here? Yeah probably because it's EVERYTHING to me.

Young Royals is so personal to me, and this show has meant so much to me. I'm crushed its over, but I think the ending we got was absolutely perfect.

I won't stop the analysis posts because there's just so much I want to talk about, young royals forever 💜

249 notes · View notes

thatdeadaquarius · 3 months

Note

Episode two of us teleported to genshin and we just play prank on everyone and causing havoc cuz y not <33

Secretly swapping venti and kaeya's vintage wine with the freshest grape juice *evil laugh*

Randomly singing niki minaj and megan thee stalion lyrics in random places <3

WE WOULD BUILD A TREE HOUSE NEAR WINDRISE AND LIVE TOGETHER YAYAYAY

Living that cottage core dream <3

YOU KNOW WE WOULD BITCH

i like to think we'd fufill every genshin fans chaotic dreams if we got yoinked to genshin lol

(obviously, seriously, sorry for replying way too late to this ;-; )

ur talking abt harmless pranks, and while yes we would need to do all of those, im talking abt figuring out how to trick Zhongli into running into Neuvillette LMAOO

ok but the Windrise idea is lowkey genius, i mean if Hilichurls can accomplish structures surely so can we, u know what i subscribe to tho? Treehouses/cool houses in every nation 👌

like cool mountain home for Liyue/inazuma could literally have a house for every island/sumeru would be yet another most epic treehouses/I WOULD LIKE TO HANG OUT/LIVE IN ONE OF THE PYRAMIDS!! not all of them have dead ppl in them i don't think (in teyvat not earth💀)

Im a personal favorite of not just singing nicki minaj songs/2000s party songs, but blasting them thruout Fontaine’s speakers 👍

OR EVEN BETTER-

blasting unhinged music thru the speakers of the CLOCKWORK MEKA, no matter where Fontainians go they can’t escape shit like, “REESES PUFFS REESES PUFFS EAT EM UP EAT EM UP EAT EM UP”

(i like to think our phones would come with/always be at 100% bc we’re “inside the video game” too)

i just posted ur other idea abt this, but telling the Akademiya/Fontaine vision users abt powerpoint nights, and just sitting back with popcorn/genshin food so we can watch the show lol

idk if u saw it for Lantern rite this year, but how mountain shaper and moon carver accidentally messed with cloud retainer by flying kites in her territory? i would give the adepti even more funny gifts so they'd unintentionally prank Each Other lmao

Giving unhinged novel ideas to Yae Miko would also be great, like the beef between Zhongli/Rex Lapis and Venti/Barbatos but enemies to lovers fanfic 💀

she’d print it too lol

(oh god i don't even wanna think abt how much more insane we’d seem if they thought we were their Creators/above the gods 😭 be gods of chaos more like lol)

tysm for all ur big brain ideas orah, 10/10 would love driving Teyvat crazy if we were both there irl

i hope u have a great week!! :D

Safe Travels,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko

@kiyomi-uchiha777

#genshin sagau #genshin impact #sagau #genshin imagines #gender neutral reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin x reader #my asks #aqua rambles #aqua asks #so many tags #so little brain power #ily guys i promise ask box will be open soon #<3 orah my beloved #ur brain>>> !!!#this would be so fun #and i couldnt even think of all the crazy things or pranks id love to do

187 notes · View notes

elly-grace · 13 days

Text

The best day

Pairing Joe Burrow x reader

Thank you @funnyjb for proof reading

You and Joe stood in the Hotel bathroom getting ready for the NFL honors. Joe was in the running for NFL MVP. He was extremely excited to even be considered for it. The Bengals had a great run this season going 15-2, and they are playing in the superbowl on Sunday!

You knew eventually you'd have to wake your daughter up. But as for now you were enjoying alone time with your husband, even if he was blaring his Kid Cudi. You didn’t have anything against Kid Cudi’s music but it wasn’t what you’d choose. You were trying to listen to Taylor Swift while curling your hair, key word trying. You sighed, setting down the curling iron and turned to face Joe.

“Babe, can you turn your music down, please?”

“But, the music is so good!” He whined out in a joking manner.

“So is my Taylor Swift, but I’m not blaring it.”

He dramatically sighed and turned his music down.

“I have something to tell you.”

After you said that, you heard the bathroom door open. You see Brianna scuttle in the bathroom. You looked towards Joe giving him a small smile then mouthing ‘I’ll tell you later’.

Brianna was a mini you, she had your hair color, facial structure and if you asked Joe she also got your attitude. The only thing she got from Joe were her bright blue eyes.

“Mommy?”

You felt a pull at your dress and picked up the five year old.

“Yes my love what’s up?”

“You look so pretty!” She says while looking at you. She then turns to Joe, “and daddy, nice music dude.” She said sarcasm laced her voice. She definitely got the sarcasm from you, which was part of the reason Joe says she adapted your attitude. You tried to stop the laugh from coming, but you couldn’t. Joe gave you a look which was his way of saying, ‘come on be more mature’. But even he couldn’t stifle the laugh that left his throat.

“I’m going to go get her ready, please turn off the iron for me.”

You said then put Brianna down, she then ran back into the other room. As you were following her Joe grabbed your arm and pulled your back into his chest. Placing his lips on your ear.

“I do agree with Bri that you look incredibly pretty. It makes me think about making baby number two.”

He whispered into your ear, his voice sounded husky. You let out a soft moan at how he was making you feel and Joe definitely caught it. He turned you to look at him, a huge smirk plastered on his face. He knew what he was doing, he was trying to turn you on. He was seceding.

“Joe, that’s what I wanted to tell you. I’m already carrying baby number two.”

All the lust he was feeling moments prior was gone. Now he stood in front of you, his face lit up like a child’s face on Christmas. He hugged you tight then picked you up and spun you around. Once your feet we’re back on solid ground he gives you a long passionate kiss.

“When did you find out?”

“This morning, when I didn’t get my period two days ago I thought it was just going to be late. But when it didn’t come this morning I decided to just take a test. I was shocked to see that it was positive. I know we weren’t trying.”

“Oh my god baby I’m so happy!”

He gave you a peck although you could still feel the passion behind it. As you were going in for another quick peck there was a knock on the door.

“Who is it?”

Joe yells from the bathroom.

“Ja’marr.”

Joe sighed. Of course it would be his best friend ruining this moment. Joe felt like alone time with you was impossible.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

He yelled, although he knew as soon as Brianna heard Ja’marrs voice she’d be already unlocking the door. Brianna loved Ja’marr, he really was her bonus uncle. When you and Joe walked out of the bathroom you saw Ja’marr sitting on the couch. He was in a conversation with Bri, which quickly turned into him tickling her.

You looked between Joe and Ja’marr sensing they needed some bro time. You quickly jumped to action grabbing your five year olds hand.

“Hey Bri, let's give your dad and Uncle Ja’marr some guy time.”

“I want to be by uncle Marr though!”

Brianna started to throw a tantrum. Which all three of you went to shut down. But Ja’marr beat you and Joe to it.

“Hey bean, you can hang out with me later after we’re all done getting ready. But you have to get ready, you can’t show up to the NFL honors in your pajamas.”

You and Joe look at each other with pure happiness. You were so lucky that Ja’marr was in your lives. Not only was he Joe's best friend but he became one of your close friends, and he’s great with your daughter.

After hearing Ja’marrs words Brianna quickly jumped off the couch and ran to the bathroom with you to get ready.

Once you and Brianna were in the bathroom Ja’marr started talking with Joe.

“Joe your the favorite for MVP”

“I know but if I’m being honest, I don’t need the award. Today has already been amazing. I got to spend l mostly uninterrupted time with my wife, and you want to know the best part? I found out I’m going to be a dad again.”

“Oh my god, Y/n’s pregnant?”

The smile on Joe's face was large, almost like a cheshire cat grin.

“I can’t believe you were able to wait four years. I thought you guys would be pregnant right away, with the way you two are. But I am so happy for you two!”

“Thanks man! Also it was kinda hard to be active with a little kid running around 24/7.”

Ja’marr laughed.

“We're going to be offensive player of the year and MVP. I'm calling it right now Joe!”

With that he walked out of the room, and went to finish getting ready himself.

Joe walks into the bathroom where you and Brianna were finishing getting ready. He stares at you causing heat to rise to your cheeks and butterflies to erupt in your stomach. You may have been married for almost five years but everytime he stares at you the same thing happens.

“How are my beautiful girls doing?”

“Good! Mommys music is way better than yours daddy!”

This caused both you and Joe to laugh.

“Oh is that so? You like Taylor Swift more than Kid Cudi?”

Brianna nods her head and stares at Joe waiting for his response. He knew Brianna loved Taylor Swift, she knew every song.

“Okay, Y/N I think we need a son. I’m out numbered. It’s not fair.”

Joe spoke acting like a four year old, which in response you patted his back.

“You love being a girl dad, don’t even lie.”

He sighed, you smiled knowing you were right. Joe loved being a girl dad.

“Now don’t go revealing my secrets! You two look beautiful, are you guys completely ready?”

“Yeah almost, I just have to put my shoes on.”

Joe went and grabbed your shoes and told you to sit.

“Here let me”

He put your shoes on for you. You thank him with a kiss.

After the three of you were ready you went to Ja’marrs room and all got into the car that was sent for you. Joe and Ja’marr requested to listen to Kid Cudi, which did not shock you at all. Once you get to the event, you and Brianna walk inside to your seats and wait for Joe to finish walking the nfl honors carpet.

The night went on as the nfl honors were being announced then finally it was OPTY. Which Ja’marr won! Then it was MVP. This was the moment that had Joe nervous, he was up against Lamarr, Patrick Mahomes, and Jalen, which was some tough competition. As they announced it you could see Joe started to shake slightly, but then they said his name. Joe just won MVP! This was the best day of his life. He looked at you as he received the award.

His speech was short and to the point making sure he thanked everyone who made it possible for him to revive this award. Coach Taylor, Ja’marr and his other receivers, his O-line, and then most importantly You and Brianna.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #nfl #nfl x reader #cincinnati bengals #x reader

144 notes · View notes

audreyscribes · 4 months

Text

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: 🦉 ATHENA: Goddess of Wisdom & Reason, of Strategy & Warfare, Crafts & Arts 🧠

author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

When you get claimed, it's after a moment of brilliance. You could be giving someone an insightful observation, successfully mediating two opposing forces, creating your own invention, or when you successfully performed a maneuver. You’ve shown your intellect and Athena claims you at that moment.

The Athena cabin cheers for you and welcomes you in.

You look in awe at the architectural structure of your cabin. You can tell the foundation and the base of the cabin was structured like the rest of the other cabins, but over the years, it was elevated.

You’re shown where you’ll be sleeping but as you set up, you immediately clock in how everything is placed. All the bunks are pushed to the side, row by row and then there are desks lining along the same way with dual tables, and there are the rows of books and a workshop further in the back. You see inventions being made, architectural models, and more.

Among the children of Athena, you slowly figure out which intellectual you lean more towards: Educated (developing theories and plans), Productive (philosophy, literary criticism, sociology, law, medicine, etc), or an Artistic (literature, music, painting, sculpture, etc). Whichever you are or of those you find yourself in, you’re in good company.

If you want to bounce off ideas of someone, there’s no shortage of siblings to have a sound board of.

Whatever craft you find yourself in, you’re immediately put into consultation and you find yourself either being asked to get an input on or seeking input from others.

Fortunately and unfortunately, since demigods aren’t allowed to use the internet, your cabin is the next best option for Google.

Spider repellents everywhere. There’s not a single dust bunny in sight, not even in the corners or behind the unseen books. Aside from the piling books, scrolls, and tools (and the few coffee cups), the Athena cabin is the cleanest cabin after the Apollo cabin.

When there was a spider somehow, you witness everyone scream and grab several torches before incinerating the arachnid into nothingness.

That or an overly complicated set up of a machine to destroy that one spider. Then you find out that there’s a lot of contraptions that they’ve built for one, very specific, function.

You just had pulled off an emergency strategy maneuver during the Capture the Flag. It was a close call with the new camper but you couldn’t mistake them for not being a child of Ares. They were a monster on the field and you had to make sure at least get some upper hand.

You managed to take out half of the other team’s numbers, using the layout of the forest and its terrain to your advantage, and your eyes noticing the body language of your opponent.

You still lost because the new camper, who has the undeniable glow of Ares on them, demolished through your forces, but it wasn’t half-bad since the casualty was the same on both sides.

“You’re fast on your feet. A bit foolish, but it was a nice maneuver.”

You jumped at the voice and turned to it, seeing a blonde girl with gray eyes. You knew her, Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena.

“Oh, uh, yeah” you said lamely, dusting yourself off as an attempt to keep your hands from shaking. “I figured at that point, we could at least make it fair or we just lose really badly.”

Annabeth nodded, as she smiled. “I guess, there’s plenty of time to hone your intelligence with us.”

“Wait what?”

Annabeth gestured up your head and you looked to see the glowing image of an owl over your head. You made a “oh” and looked owl-eyed at your new sister as she held out her hand.

“Welcome to the Athena cabin, I’m Annabeth Chase. Cabin Leader and your new half-sibling.”

181 notes · View notes

greenorangevioletgrass · 1 year

Text

given the circumstances (part 1) | b.r.b.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x actress!reader

summary: your relationship with Bradley goes from 0 to 100 after a little happy accident. [Part of “The Actress & The Aviator” universe]

word count: 5.9k

Warnings: established relationship, language, pregnancy, mention of vomit/nausea, accidental pregnancy, fluff, smut [unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, daddy kink, hint of mommy kink?, breeding kink, size kink, creampie]

notes: they’re back babeyyyy! This is set about 1.5 years after the events in “It’s Classified”, and it fills in the gap of the blurbs I did a while ago. But you don’t have to read it first, this can be read as a standalone. I have missed writing for them so much, and I hope you enjoy reading this! <3

✨ follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass to get notified for my latest words <3 happy reading and please reblog if you liked it! ✨

PART ONE

You’ve been New York-bound for six whole months, doing two shows on Broadway back-to-back. Bradley came to visit you for your musical’s opening night about two months in (and again for your second show, a modern take of Romeo & Juliet), but with your shows and his sudden deployment to God knows where for three months, the time and space apart was killing you.

Which is why you’re determined to take some time off as soon as you’re done, just to be with your stupidly handsome fiance at home in the stupidly sunny California.

Your first month or so was a bliss. You would wake up to the smell of your coffee, and saunter into the kitchen where Bradley would kiss you good morning. There’s no rigid structure to your days, save for the occasional work meetings. Most of your time is spent playing house with your fiance, redecorating the house you both barely lived in before you were called off to work. Wandering around and jotting down inspirations for your new screenplay. Treating yourself to frozen yogurts and manicures. Adjusting to life in the San Clemente neighborhood of Orange County.

(Bradley made a joke about you joining The Real Housewives soon, which earned him an elbow to the rib. Whatever. He was more Housewife material than you anyway.)

But halfway through your second month, you started feeling lethargic and just… off. You chalked it up to the weather and exhaustion, since you’ve been back to work, going to pre-production meetings for your upcoming movie. You tried to brush it off with vitamins and heartier meals, powering through for a couple of days.

“You sure you’re okay? You don’t look so good…” Bradley looks at you in concern when you shuffle into the kitchen that morning.

You’re really not, but you blatantly refuse to acknowledge that. “I’m fine. Still tired, is all. I just need some…” the coffee scent wafts in the air—the same scent that always woke you up in a good mood these past six months—and you gag. “Oh fuck.”

Bradley’s voice calling out your name sounds distant as you dash towards the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before you puke your guts out.

“Hey…” he holds your hair back with one hand while the other rubs your back patiently. Staying calm despite his head is running a mile a minute in panic. “What happened, sweetheart?”

Everything feels like hell from your mouth to your stomach, and you groan as you pull the flush. “I have no idea. I just… I could smell the coffee and suddenly…” you motion at the toilet. “I mean, what the fuck?”

He sighs, wiping off sweat from your forehead and brushing the strands of hair sticking on it. “Maybe it’s stress?” he guesses, although they both know it’s unlikely. You’ve been keeping it relatively chill since you got here. “Or a stomach bug? Or…”

You look up to find his brown eyes softly gazing at yours, in worry and concern and… “Or what?”

He grimaces almost apologetically, and you slowly catch what he means.

“No. No way. Nuh-uh.” you shake your head so quickly, you give yourself a headache. “I’m on birth control. I’ve never missed a day…” That’s not true. As the words leave your mouth, you remember the surprise trip Bradley took you to Big Sur one weekend where you forgot both your pills and condoms…

Fuck.

“Babe… What date is it?”

He stammers for a bit, “Um, the— it’s the 18th.”

You do the mental math, counting the time gap between today and the Big Sur trip, and your last period… and your eyes widen. Your head is swirling, and so is your stomach.

“Sweetheart, do you think you might be—”

Before he can say the damned word, you feel the bile rising again. Your pointer finger lifts up in wait, as you bury your face in the toilet and throw up once more.

His heart catches. You’ve talked about having a baby, and you’ve talked about wanting to have one… some time in the future. He didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Butterflies fill his stomach at the possibility of you carrying his baby right now at this very moment, but the sight of you looking so… defeated by your own body is enough to create a nasty pit in his gut.

“What can I get for you, baby?” he asks softly, caressing the back of your neck.

There’s absolutely nothing else to empty from your stomach at this point. It’s basically just water and dry heaving, and your eyes are tearing up from the terrible sensation.

“Ginger ale from the fridge…” you manage between heavy breaths, “...and some test packs from the pharmacy, please.”

“Okay, sure. Got it. Come on, let’s get you back to bed.” He offers both his hands and gently pulls you up. If he’s nervous or excited or both, he does a pretty good job of not showing it. He pulls up some tissues from the bathroom counter and wipes your mouth without batting an eye.

He lays you down on your side, getting you all nice and comfy, before disappearing into the kitchen, returning with a can of ginger ale and a puke bucket, just in case.

“Sweetheart?” his hand is soft and warm on your cheek, and his voice even more so. “Drink up. Hope it’ll settle your stomach a little bit.”

You sit up a little, and take small sips from the can. At least it helps alleviate the bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

“I put your phone on the bedside. Call me if you need me, alright? I’m just gonna run over to CVS. Be back before you know it.” He kisses your forehead, and you make a face in protest.

“I’m gross right now!”

“I don’t care,” he chuckles. “Just rest up. Love you.”

Of course he knows what to do. Picture perfect Bradley Bradshaw, who knows how to be caring without being overbearing. Who kisses your clammy forehead after you puke your guts out. Who is literally running to the nearest drugstore to get her pregnancy test packs right now, for fuck’s sake. He’s just… perfect.

You lie back down and smush your face into the pillow, faced with the fact that you’ll never be able to live up to that. And if you can’t… how the hell are you supposed to raise a child? How the hell are you supposed to pull your weight when your fiance can already do it so well?

“Babe?” He calls out upon entering the house a few short minutes later. “I’m back. I got the…” his words trail off as he walks into the bedroom and sees you in tears. His whole features soften up as he approaches you gingerly, sitting by your side. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

You shake your head as you sit up, sniffling a little. “What are those?” You nod at the paper bag he put down on the foot of the bed, hoping it’ll divert the conversation a little. It’s a little too big for just a bunch of pregnancy test sticks.

“The tests. And some snacks I thought might help with your stomach.”

And with that, the tears burn the corners of your eyes again and your lips quiver as they fail to hold back the cries.

“How are you so good at this?!”

He pauses in confusion, and then… it dawns on him. An amused glint appears in his eyes. “Are you… crying because I got a good bedside manner?”

Your hands fly up to your face, hiding it from view. “I’m not! Shut up!” You really were, but he didn’t have to say it like that… and your reaction only confirmed his speculation.

Bradley chuckles. God, he loves your silly little antics. “I mean, I had to take care of my mom all through high school, so…” he shrugs sheepishly.

You wipe your tears with the back of your hand. An uncomfortable awkwardness sets in as you remember his late mother’s terminal illness, right in the peak of his high school years. “Right. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby. I’m just… glad I’m doing it right?” He smiles in reassurance, wiping what’s left of your tears and kissing your nose. He lifts up the ginger ale can to your hand again. “You lost a lot of fluids to make up for. Drink up some more, and we’ll do the tests, yeah?”

You glance at the paper bag again, watching him fishing around… “How many pregnancy test packs did you get?”

“I got three just to be safe.”

You want to laugh, but you probably would’ve ransacked the test kits too, if you were the one to buy it. So instead, you nod slowly, ponderously. “Three is… three is good.”

You know how these test kits work, they’re all the same, but you insist on reading the instructions pamphlet anyway. With two other test kits to spare, Bradley simply takes another copy from another box to read.

“Pee on a stick, wait for up to 5 minutes.” You put down the pamphlet on the counter. “Easy enough.” You sigh like it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.

And it is. Every tick of the clock feels louder and farther from the one before, and you’re trying your damnedest not to look back onto the counter where the blue-tipped sticks are lined up. Inspecting it up close and see the lines that appear.

You sigh in exasperation, breaking the stilted silence. “I don’t even know what I’m hoping for, if I’m honest. Is that weird?”

He shakes his head a little. “Not at all. This is a weird situation to be in, I think it makes sense if we’re still not sure what we want.”

“Do you know what you’re hoping for?” You turn your head towards him. Maybe you’ll know it when you hear it.

“Honestly? No.” Yes. He knows exactly what he wants. He just doesn’t want to admit it and freak you out even more. “I’m just thinking about you. About us…”

“What about us?”

“Just that… whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together.”

Bless him. It would be infuriating if you weren’t so comforted by it. Leave it to Bradley to always know just the right thing to say.

And he means every word of it too. Yes, he wants a baby with you now, but you don’t, or if it doesn’t turn out to be now, then… he can stand to wait a little more. For as long as you need.

“How long do we have left?”

Bradley joins your gaze towards the nautical clock on the wall. A silly little gag gift you gave him last Christmas, for your favorite flying seaman.

“Three minutes and fifteen seconds…?”

“That’s about the average length of a pop song.”

He grins. “Exactly. One pop song, and we’ll find out.”

You nod. Listening to the tick, tick, tick of the clock. It drones on and on, and it seems to lull slower as it goes. Fuck Einstein and his theory of relativity. You pick the first random song that pops into your head and holds onto it for dear life. It’s your only way of keeping track of the time, at this point.

“I took my love, I took it down…” you sing under your breath, tentatively.

Bradley snorts. “It’s a good song.” That’s an understatement. He adores Fleetwood Mac, and this is the first song he learned on the guitar when he was 10.

“Climbed a mountain and I turned around…” you throw him a side-eye, a more than obvious invitation to join you.

Bradley has his eyes closed, though. But he nods along and sings along in his warm voice, “And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hill…”

“‘Til the landslide brought me down.”

The two of you are singing with your whole chests now, belting out the chorus to drown out your nerves, forcing yourself to stay on tempo even when you feel like rushing it to the end. Right now, it’s more like Nick Miller’s nervous singing from New Girl than a beautiful bathroom jam session, but you don’t care. Bradley is vocalizing the guitar solo part like the back of his hand, playing the air guitar and everything, and you’re so, so happy that out of all the people in the world, you’re doing this with him.

And at that moment, you realize that your worries earlier today were misguided. Yes, Bradley knows how to take care of you, and he probably knows a thing or two about babies. But he’s on your side. He’ll be pulling the weight with you. Being good parents is not a competition—you know he’ll cheer you on like he is doing right now. He knows you’ll do the same for him, too.

Well I’ve been afraid of changes

‘cause I’ve built my life around you

But time makes you bolder, even children get older

and I’m getting older too

You didn’t notice it at first, but Bradley also softens up on the final chorus, lost in his own thoughts. He has built his life on self-preservation, protecting himself from the lies of the people he loved, and depriving him of the love and family he’s always wanted. But maybe it’s age or the wounds healing (or you swooping into his life at just the right moment)… but he’s not gonna live forever. He knows in his heart of hearts that he wants this baby. He wants this life with you.

When you ask him to look and tell you the results, he doesn’t even flinch. He just nods, kissing your temple as he reaches for all three test kits behind you. His hand shakes a little as he picks them up, though, flipping to see the indicator side. One line for negative, two for positive.

And there it is.

“They’re…” his throat catches, his face unreadable. “They’re all positive…”

“What?”

He shows you the test kits, two blue lines all across the board. His voice wavers, with tears and smiles at the same time. “We’re having a baby.”

“Oh my God…” you walk into his arms in a daze, still not sure what you’re feeling. Are you relieved because you simply know the answer, or relieved because it’s true? Are you terrified because you want it or you don’t?

Bradley cups your face with both hands, tucking unruly strands of hair behind your ear. His brown eyes brimming with tears, blurry as he admires your beauty. The mother of his child. Gosh, he can’t believe his luck.

“How do you feel, honey?”

It tugs at your heartstrings, just how soft he is. So brave, and so gentle at the same time. You have no idea what kind of parent you would be, but you know he would make a great one. “Shocked,” you admit. He nods. “Scared.” This time, you’re a bit embarrassed, but he completely empathizes. “But…” you put your hand over his, closing your eyes as you lean your cheek against his palm, so warm and soft and right, “…happy.”

***

And after two months of a relatively slow life, things are going from zero to 100 very quickly.

Bradley manages to duck out of work early and take you to the doctor that very afternoon. Everything seems to be in order. The baby is, indeed, there— a 7-week-old blob as big as a blueberry with a heartbeat.

Heartbeat.

Your heart all but stops beating when you first hear it, much stronger than you thought it would. But there it is. Strong. Alive.

There.

“That’s… that’s our baby…” You choke up, staring at the ultrasound screen in awe. His hand brings yours to his lips for a loving kiss.

Gosh, you must’ve cried about six times that day. Bradley twice as much (He would deny it to his grave, but you kept count.)

And then, once the novelty wears off a little and the new situation sets in… the two of you get to work.

Bradley updates the entire kitchen inventory and goes into a research (or, as you like to call it, a rabbit hole) into what you can or cannot consume during your pregnancy. You’re constantly on the phone with your agent to rearrange your schedule for the next year (he sounds happy that you’re expecting, but a little inconvenienced that he has to move some things around and even cancel your involvement in a few projects). Conversation topics at mealtimes now include baby names, nursery ideas, and childcare plans.

Bradley comes home to you huddled over your laptop one evening, brows knitted in focus. The AC is cranked up to the max in the summer heat, and you’re all bundled up in the throw blanket. He wants to squee over how cute you look. He puts down the takeout bag of Pad Thai on the coffee table.

“Whatcha got there, my little cocoon?”

“Insurance, mostly.” You look up to kiss him briefly, before you continue typing on. “I’ve been talking to them all afternoon, going through the birth plans and sorting everything out. Very exciting stuff.”

“Hell yeah! Paperwork! The thrill of calling up an insurance company on a Tuesday!” Bradley counters your deadpan with an overexcited cheer, flopping himself on the spot next to you with another big kiss. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Well,” you take a thoughtful deep breath, going through your mental to-do list and realizing… you’re pretty much all set. “How about a back massage?” You give him the puppy eyes, as if you needed it in the first place.

“Copy that, Ma’am.” He throws her a lazy salute and tugs the throw blankets off of you. He starts on your shoulders, noticing the tension under your skin. “Jeez, babe. How long have you been hunched over here?”

Before you can answer him, he’s already working the knots on the base of your neck, you don’t even know you were so tense there, and you respond with a resounding moan.

He raises his eyebrows. “I’ll… take that as a compliment, then.” He grins, ever so proud that he’s eliciting these sounds out of you.

It’s not like you were playing it up or anything. You really were tense, and his hands really do feel good. And while it does make you moan and sigh blissfully, it’s hardly your fault that it makes him think of something else, right?

“Baby…” his voice sounds like a gentle warning.

“Yes?”

His hands stop. “Don’t test me.”

“Oh, okay. Would you prefer this instead?” you grunt oafishly, a piss-poor impression of him in bed, “Fuck baby, that’s it. That’s it. Good girl…”

“Hey!” he pokes his fingers to your side and cage you in his arms so you have nowhere to go. Nowhere to avoid his ministrations.

You giggle uncontrollably, squirming as he gets on top of you, peppering kisses all over your face. A mere distraction to his real tickle attacks. “Stop! Stop! Roo-roo!”

He pins your arms over your head, his cheeks tinged pink with mischief now. “Yield?”

“I’m willing to negotiate.” You flash him a coy smirk.

He frowns. Go on.

You raise an eyebrow. You know what I’m talking about.

He raises his, mirroring you. Interesting…

You tilt your head slightly. Well?

And just like that…

“Deal.”

Your lips meet each other halfway in a searing kiss. The pregnancy hormones are kicking in in full gear, and you’re needier. Much needier than you already are. You want Bradley all the time, in whatever form he’s in, in whatever situation you are in. He knows this, and he finds this endlessly adorable. He would poke fun at you for that…

If only he wasn’t so god-fucking-damned enamored by you for it.

He tears off your dress, reveling in the sheer sight of you. Your curves growing softer, more pronounced in the past month alone. The very subtle but steadfast roundness of your belly. Your breasts, as they grow fuller and—

“Oh…” you whimper as he rolls your nipple between your fingers.

More sensitive to the touch.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this…” he leans down to kiss you again; on the mouth, and on the neck… his tongue gliding across your collarbones, forming the shape of your mounds, one after another…

“Roo, take me to bed…”

“Or what, lose me forever?”

He grazes the outer parts of your nipple with his teeth and teasingly licks at the hardened tops, and you cry out. Such a small little thing, but you feel the sensation in your fingertips.

Bradley smiles. A soft look despite how the situation is escalating. “C’mere, baby.”

With your legs wrapped around his waist, he lifts you up off of the couch. You think it’s just to get you up on your feet, but then he’s not letting go. “You’re not seriously thinking about carrying me all the way upstairs, right?” A teasing frown sets on your face as he hauls you out of the living room.

“Are you assuming that I can’t carry my beautifully pregnant wife to our room?”

“I’m not your wife yet, you know— oh shit!” He pins you against the wall right by the stairs, one hand cradling the back of your head, ever so caring.

He mouths your neck in teasing, his breath fanning against your bare skin. “No? So I don’t have to perform my husbandly duties now, since you’re not my wife?”

It’s kind of hot… but you can’t help but make a face at his choice of words. “You need to stop watching Downton Abbey. Just say ‘fuck.’ It’s not that hard.”

He pulls away, his comeback locked and loaded and ready to go. “You can’t tell me what to do. Who are you, my wife or something?”

“Ugh!” your jaw falls open in a mock offended expression, and you smack his ass playfully.

In turn, he squeezes yours back. Tight. Possessive. There’s a shift in his gaze, a tiny sliver, a darkening—the kind that makes you feel even more naked than you already are. You look at him with unbridled lust, and he kisses you like it’s the only way he can breathe. Like he’s been holding his breath until he can get his hands on you.

And by God, you would let him have all the air you have left to give.

He carries up to the bedroom slowly, carefully, and you hold onto him tight. Reveling in how strong he’s built, all muscles and abs and everything, and how gentle he handles you as he sets you down on the edge of the bed. The epitome of a gentleman, as he kneels down between your legs.

You can feel the heat emanating from him—or is it you?— and you try to unbutton his khaki uniform. “Baby, don’t you wanna take off your…” your words die out as his chest moves out of reach. There is only his hair between your thighs.

His tongue between your folds.

“Fuuuuck…” you bite through your teeth. And once his finger joins in, you’re done for.

You make no effort to hold back your obscene moans, but the wet sounds coming from your pussy are still louder. Your face grows hot as the noise bounces through your bedroom walls.

Bradley pulls his mouth away for a moment, smirking devilishly at you from between his legs. “Well well well… What’s got you this soaking wet, honey?”

You bite your lip, trying to keep it together. But you’re teetering dangerously closer to your release, and you whine out, “You, Daddy…”

He chuckles darkly. “Daddy’s got you all worked up, huh?” The use of the moniker has significantly increased since the news of your pregnancy, but you’re hardly complaining. It does hit different now that he’s actually gonna be one. “I’ve been home for two minutes, and you’re already dripping down your legs…” he slaps the inside of your thigh and you’re keeling into it. “So fucking cute.”

He watches you fuck yourself on his fingers and it makes you dizzy. “Please…”

“Please what?” His mustache tickles your clit, and it drives you wild. “Please stop?”

You whimper in protest.

He adds another finger into you, and raises an expectant eyebrow. This fucking asshole. A snide remark sits right at the tip of your tongue, but the only thing that comes out is,

“Please fuck me.”

He stops, straightening up with an intrigued look about him. Then, being a little shit, he comes back up to you with a kiss. “Good girl. There we go. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You taste yourself on his lips, his mustache wet from your arousal, too. In any other case, you would be more proactive, more feral in returning his sentiment—tearing off his clothes and stuffing your mouth full of his cock. But lately you’ve been feeling more… submissive. So easily drunk on climax that you just surrender your pleasure to your man, knowing he’ll take care of you.

Bradley stands up to his full height, towering over you. He toes off his shoes, unbuttoning his uniform. It’s hardly a striptease routine, but there’s something insanely hot about him undressing when he’s about to fuck you.

His shirt drops to the floor, and the white undershirt soon joins. You perk up at the sound of his belt unbuckling, pants rustling down. And as his hard cock springs free from his boxers, you swallow thickly at the sight.

“You ready?” He pumps his fist around his hard-on a few times, as he settles between your legs, still standing on the side of the bed.

A quiet little please escapes you, and then a gasp, as he pulls your hips to the edge of the bed. Lining up his cock against your entrance. He’s big, and your pussy is still aching after he edged you moments ago. It’s gonna be a tight fit.

“Honey, go slow. Please. Slowslowslowslow… ahh!” His cock slides into you in one swift movement, sending a blinding wave of pain and pleasure as it stretches you out.

He doesn’t tear his eyes off of you. He watches your face fall under his undoing, and he moans. “You feel so good, baby…” he says between heavy breaths. You’re always so strong and bold and ballsy, and it gives him a fucking power trip to see you look so… small taking on his cock.

You let out a pathetic whimper as he starts to shallowly thrust in and out of you.

“What is it, baby?” He coos, caressing your hip gently.

“Y’too big…”

“Too big?” Bradley looks down to level your gaze, a seed of a shit-eating grin plastered on his stupid face. “You want me to stop? Is that what you want?”

“No!” You buck up into him as soon as his hips halt, desperately trying to maintain the pace.

He chuckles, that cocky fuck, before he finally continues driving his dick up your inner walls again. “No? You want me to keep stretching you, then?”

You nod. Every thrust feels bigger, deeper, more than the rest, hitting that spot of pleasure just barely, and you’re willing to do anything to stay there.

“Been so needy since I got you pregnant…” he kisses your neck. “Want Daddy more now that I made you a mommy, huh?”

Fuck. The words—the exact order of the words he said sounds batshit insane. You never considered this kind of dirty talk to be hot, but Jesus…

“God, I can’t wait to see your belly all big and round… your tits too, fuck…” he groans as he squeezes your soft flesh, rubbing your nipples with his thumb. “Gonna be a mommy and show everyone who you belong to, huh?”

“Mmh…” You’ve seen Bradley being possessive, and you’ve seen him tap into his primal side, but not like this. This is a whole other beast, and it shocks you how much it turns you on.

“All mine, huh?”

“I’m all yours, Daddy. I’m—fuck. Fuck!” Your whole body is shaking. The band in your core is wound up so tight, and it’s threatening to snap.

And through it all, he doesn’t let up. Bradley keeps that rhythm, pounding into you hard and deep. “Shit, that’s it… that’s it, baby. Come on my cock. God, you’re so fucking tight…”

There’s no stopping it now… your pussy gushes and clenches around him, as shocks of pleasure wave through your system. Your mind goes blank, and for a hot second, nothing is registering in your brain. Nothing but your man, as obscenely as he is fucking your brains out right now,

“Need your cum inside me, Roo…”

“Don’t wanna come anywhere else. Just you, just your pussy…” he breathes out. He’s close, that much you can tell. His pace is erratic and his mouth runs wild. “Gonna keep pumping you full of my cum. Gonna keep fucking babies into you until you can’t anymore.”

You would laugh. You would tease him for being such a caveman about it. But as he comes deep inside you, his hips stuttering one, two, three more times as he rides out his orgasm… you don’t only surrender to the idea; you welcome it.

Maybe you’re completely fucked out. Maybe you’re going soft and mellow, but nothing—and you mean nothing— is hotter than what he wants to do to you.

What he is doing to you now.

The room falls into a pleasant silence as you come down from your high. Bradley pulls out of you, and you gush out with your own release and his. His mouth falls open in awe. “Fuck, that’s hot…”

“Huh?” You lift your head from the bed, trying to see what he’s looking at.

“Nah, it’s just…” he shakes his head with a grin. “Good thing we’re already pregnant, huh? If we weren’t, that might’ve just done the trick.”

You roll your eyes as he gives you a sweet peck on the cheek. “I think the dirty talk alone was enough to do it.”

He blushes, a deep shade of red. He absolutely can’t take it when you quote back the things he said to you during sex. “Nope! Not a single word. La-la-la-la…” he closes his ears with his fingers, waddling over to the bathroom comically.

The sound of water trickling into the toilet coincides with your laugh in the bedroom… and then it gets drowned out with the flush. It’s a mundane little snapshot of your intimate lives together.

He comes up to you and offers his hands. “Come on…” he helps you get up. “You go ahead and clean up. I’ll change the sheets.”

Leave it up to Bradley, to always take initiatives to do the small things, like changing the sheets and ushering your ass to the bathroom after sex.

As you clean up and put on some clothes in the bathroom, Bradley singing Take My Breath Away to himself in the other room, you wonder how all of this will turn out. Change is inevitable—your belly is getting bigger, this new stage of relationship is getting more real— and you’re desperate to get a grasp on these things. It’s strange to be so anxious after such a lovely evening. But it’s been so good so far… too good, maybe… and you can’t help but wonder if the other shoe might drop.

“Everything alright?” Bradley pops up by the bathroom door, already in sweatpants and a t-shirt. You must’ve been in there for a while.

You nod absently. “Yeah, just… changing.” And you’re not sure whether you’re talking about the clothes you just put on, or the body you inhabit.

“I think you look beautiful,” he says so simply. Wrapping his arms around you, feeling your small bump. He smiles into your hair and whispers, “My beautiful wife…”

“Not your wife yet…” you remind him pointedly, teasingly. It’s one of your favorite pastimes, keeping him on his toes.

He turns you around to face him, a tender look seemingly permanent on his face whenever he sees you these days. “I mean, you’re here, with me, in our house, carrying our baby…” he kisses your nose, “As far as I’m concerned, that makes you my wife, doesn’t it?”

Well, when he puts it like that… you take a deep sigh, not hating the idea. But not quite ready to concede to his argument yet. “Apart from a piece of paper.”

“Ah well. That can easily be arranged, hmm?”

Truth be told, he’s got a point. The only differentiating factor to your status right now is a little certificate, and both your signatures on the dotted lines. Not a big party or a horrendously expensive dress that everybody would have an opinion on. And to be more truthful, it was never what you wanted in the first place.

You only ever want to be together.

And you’re free to decide how you want to be together.

“Should we just do it?”

“What?”

You look up at him with a tentative smile.

His eyes light up, and his heart leaps. “I mean, sure.” He chuckles. “We can go down to the courthouse. Or, hell, I’ll drive us to Vegas right now.”

It gets a giggle out of you. Of course he would jump at the opportunity to marry you right away. “Or… we can just celebrate it with our closest friends and family? Rent a beach house somewhere, and just… make a fun weekend out of it?”

“And just… what, get a justice of the peace to marry us?”

You shrug with an easy smile. “Or we can make Mav cry and ask him to officiate.”

He chuckles, but trails off as it sinks in. It has never occurred to him that that was an option. He’s always imagined it the traditional way. A church ceremony followed by a reception in a hall somewhere. Walking under the arch of swords. Looking dapper in his dress uniform. But with his work obligations and yours, and all the nightmare logistics of guest numbers and venues and entertainment and the fucking publicity that comes with your fame, both of you are well aware that it’s a hassle.

And it’s not even the most important part.

The most important part is you. You’d be the one meeting him at the altar. You’d be the one saying your vows and making him cry happy tears.

You would be the one.

For him.

Forever.

“Let’s do it.” Bradley nods resolutely. “Just you, me, and our closest people. We can get married in our jammies, for all I care.”

“Maybe not jammies…” you roll your eyes in amusement. “I still wanna look nice for our wedding, you know.”

“You look nice in your jammies.” He glances down at your tank top.

“Roo.” You cover his line of sight indignantly.

But he tugs your hand away, eyes still glued to what is arguably one of his favorite sights in the world. Your cleavage. Plays it off really coolly as he teases you. “No, no. I’m serious. You look really nice in your jammies. I really wouldn’t object to—”

You swat his hand, only half-serious. “Bradley.”

“Alright, fine!” He raises his hands in surrender. “So long as I get to call you my wife.”

“Not your wife yet…” you saunter out of the bathroom, knowing full well he doesn’t care.

To be completely honest, you’re not even sure that you do, either.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster imagine #rooster smut #rooster x reader #the actress & the aviator #ava writes #top gun maverick

457 notes · View notes

shitswiftiessay · 1 month

Text

Swifties want to be an oppressed group SO fucking badly! 🤡

“why can’t I, a white woman, love music made by a white woman about the experience and perspectives of white women without being attacked about my white privilege?”

oh my fucking god, will somebody PLEASE think of the white women and their rights to listen to Taylor Swift???

also, I can already tell from the title that context has been omitted. She thinks she’s persecuted for being white, but the title references Taylor’s song about wanting to go back to the 1830’s “without all the racists” of course. Now a lot of POC have been calling out that lyric because they find it weird that a wpuld openly romanticise a time of slavery in the pre civil war era. Also you ca go back to a time “without all the racists” when that was the literal structure of society at that time. My guess is she got called an ignorant privileged white woman for defending that lyric and now she’s gone to whine on r/TrueSwifties about how she’s persecuted for being a white woman who likes Taylor Swift.

#shit swifties say #anti taylor swift #white feminism #the toilet paper department #racist swifties

117 notes · View notes

markberries · 2 years

Text

stars in his eyes ﹒ ml

info﹕mark lee was originally just a name to you — until the day you found out you had many connections with him.

genre﹕fluff, angst, comedy, slowburn, mark x f reader, slight yeonjun x reader, annoying bsf jaemin, university au

wc﹕21k+

warnings﹕mentions of underage drinking

an﹕omfg its FINALLY done. PLEASE ENJOY

when people hear the name mark lee, it’s almost as if a light bulb turns on in their head, the cogs of their brains rotating and immediately recognizing the infamous name. his heart was as big as his smile, although he was a little shy towards acquaintances, he has always been kind hearted and thoughtful towards everyone.

seeing mark lee was like an unspoken routine for people of your university; always late to his classes, people would see him running across campus, textbooks nearly falling out of his bag as he waved to friends he passed by. him being a music major, it wasn’t odd to see him sitting at a table on campus, headphones in his ears as he bounced his head to a song he was working on.

in all honesty, you had no connections to mark lee, or so you thought. he was just a name you knew, a face that you could point out in the crowd due to seeing the young man stumble throughout the uni halls.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry,” a voice says to you as you make harsh contact with them, knocking you down to the ground. you let out a huff of frustration, the stranger holding out his hand for you to take.

you look up, eyes meeting a pair of chocolate brown ones that belong to mark lee. your mouth was slightly parted, staring up at the young man. you reach out to grab ahold of his hand, him pulling you up gently. you dust off your knees, the boy clearing his throat.

“again, sorry,” mark mutters out, picking up the items that had fallen out of your bag when you had dropped to the ground.

“it’s fine,” you assure him, swallowing the built up saliva in your mouth. the boy looks back to you, squinting his eyes, before they widen again and his mouth forms into an ‘O’ shape.

“i know you,” he states. you lift a brow, adjusting the strap of your tote bag on your shoulder.

“do you?” you reply casually.

“yeah, um, you’re y/n, right? i’m not sure if you remember but we met in high school? senior year?”

you were never good with recognizing faces, or names, and mark’s name didn’t seem very unique to you. you thought hard, trying to remember him, but you couldn’t quite put a finger on how you two had met.

“we like, made out at san’s graduation party?”

your face went a bright red, and you fought back the urge to bury your face in your hands.

san’s graduation party was the first time you had actually drank, and the times that you’ve taken sips out of your parents’ drinks does not count. you weren’t much of a rulebreaker, but you were so happy to finally be out of hell, that you downed seven shots that night (with no previous experience of being drunk, as you were seventeen). the memory of the night was foggy, but you distinctly remembered pulling the hand of someone else to an empty room, and locking lips with them.

“oh my god,” you say to yourself, recalling the events in your brain as you deadpan at mark’s face, “that was you?”

at this point, he’s sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, and you silently wished that mark hadn’t mentioned the party at all. mark laughs awkwardly, “i had no idea that you went here.”

“yeah, to be fair, i had no idea we went to high school together,” your face was hot, a pink tint was spread across your cheeks from embarrassment.

mark used to be a tad shorter, with an evident baby face and chubbier cheeks. he still had that same baby face, but with an enhanced facial structure. it was no wonder why you hadn’t recognized him in the first place.

“it’s alright,” he says to you, clearing his throat. he checks his phone for the time, then glances back up to you.

“i should get going, i’m probably going to be late,” he mumbles, grasping at the straps of his backpack. you nod, not knowing what to say next.

“see you around, mark lee.”

—

the next moment that you bumped into mark lee was on a saturday afternoon, when you were leaving your apartment that you shared with your friend, jaemin. you had just locked the door, before turning around to see mark lee walking out of the elevator, grocery bags in his arms as he fumbled to get his keys out.

“mark?” you say, and he slightly jumps at the sound of your voice, eyes darting over to you. his hair is disheveled, a black hoodie pulled over his head as he stared out of his black rimmed glasses. he reminded you of a lost puppy, an extremely socially awkward one.

“oh– hey, uh, y/n,” he manages to get out, trying to make his way to his apartment that was two doors down from your own.

“you live here?” you ask, a surprised tone coating your voice.

“yeah, i do,” he replies, awkwardly trying to unlock his door without letting the groceries fall out of his hands. you glance down at his keys, then back to him. his eyebrows are furrowed in frustration as his lips are formed into a frown.

“need help?” you finally say, and he looks over to you with pleading eyes.

“please?”

you walk over to him, taking the keys from his hands and quickly unlock the front door for him (you also take notice of the watermelon doormat that was under your feet), holding it open as he waddles in quietly, placing the groceries on the ground next to him so he can turn back to you.

“thanks a lot.. i would invite you inside but, it’s kind of a mess right now,” he admits, and you let out a small laugh, shaking your head and telling him it’s fine.

“welp,” you finally say, offering a kind smile to him. “guess we’ll be seeing much more of each other?”

mark thanks you once again, before softly closing the door as you walk away from his apartment. you exhale, eyes lingering on his front door for a short amount of time. you then turn back towards the elevator, pressing the down button, the arrow on the silver button lighting up a dim red.

maybe it had been too soon to say you had no connections with mark lee.

—

the third, unplanned meet up with mark lee was in the city public library, twenty-four hours later. you were tracing your fingers along the covers of sappy romance novels, searching for something new to indulge in for the next few weeks. you had read some of the classics, me before you, the fault in our stars, pride and prejudice, you felt as if the list went for hours.

reading for you was like time travelling or living another life (as it is for countless others), and you enjoyed the bubbly feeling that grew within the depths of your stomach when the main character and love interest finally got together.

the romances that lay in the books you have read, was much different than the love stories you could tell about your life. in your opinion, dating was like work. finding someone you took an interest in, learning about them, developing trust together, only to not work out in the end, and then starting all over. it was a vicious cycle that you never took pleasure in partaking in, and you settled with the fact that maybe it was better to wait.

you had some experience with relationships, your first post-secondary boyfriend was a business major named jung jaehyun. he was handsome, kind, and not to mention he was awfully popular with the ladies. the one thing people did not warn you about before entangling your life with jaehyun’s, was how dedicated he was to school, and what he was willing to give up for it.

as most people can guess, jaehyun had ended it with you almost five months into your relationship, saying you were too distracting from his classes. you were never the type to try and interfere with someone’s life goal, so you didn’t fight the break up.

relationships in university wasn’t your thing, after that. you believe that it was better for you to finish your studies, and then figure out what to do with your dating situation.

the love that was in books was so deceiving, yet so beautiful. they left everyone with high standards and unachievable objectives, so when your hand grazed against that of mark lee’s when reaching for the book, the time traveler’s wife, you nearly laugh at the cliche moment that usually only appears in that of a romance novel.

“oh sorry— y/n?” his voice chirps out, retracting his hand away from yours. you take the book off of the shelf, then you turn, looking at him.

“mark, hey,” you smile, holding the book out to him. “did you want this?”

“no, it’s okay,” he shakes his head, pushing the book gently towards your chest, returning the smile on your face with his own. “just looking around.”

“what brings you here?” you ask, attempting to make small talk with him. he begins pointing towards one of the library tables where a couple of boys, around your age, sat.

“my friends wanted me to come study with them, i ended up finishing up the assignments i needed done, got bored and decided to check out the romance aisle.” his eyes wander to his friends, then back to you. “funny how we keep meeting like this, though.”

you hum in agreement, wondering how many times you would be running into mark lee this week.

“any recommendations?” he asks, drumming his fingers against the wooden shelving. you take a moment to scan the other books around you, before your eyes land on paper towns by john green. you swiftly pull the book out with a single movement, handing it to him.

“this is a good one for beginners,” you comment, and he stares at the cover for a small moment, but he’s quick to look back at you. mark felt like an open book to you, even if you barely knew the boy. his face went neutral, as if he was thinking hard, but then he began to speak, filling the short lived silence.

“could you listen to a song for me?” he blurts out, and your eyes widen out of surprise.

“it’s like— a song i’m writing for composition, i need an unbiased opinion, and my friends would be too nice to say anything mean.”

“and what makes you think i’ll say something mean?” you ask, almost in a teasing manner. he begins jumbling up his words, obviously a little bit flustered.

“um, sorry, i didn’t mean it like that, it’s just that we don’t really know each other—“

you laugh, placing a hand on mark’s shoulder, “i’m kidding. you can show it to me today, if you want.”

mark lets out an audible sigh of relief, then pulls out his phone from his jacket pocket. he unlocks it, opening the contacts app and giving the phone to you. you quickly punch in your information, handing it back to him with a smile.

“just text me whenever, and i can come over to listen.”

mark nods, putting his phone away again. “right, forgot that we’re practically neighbours. i’ll text you later then.”

the air becomes quiet again, mark’s grip on the book you handed him becomes tighter as he inhales sharply. “i should get back to my friends.”

“oh yeah,” you reply back, straightening out the wrinkles on your skirt. “i have to get back home as well.”

mark clears his throat, “see you later?”

“yeah, see you later,” you say, your eyes forming into small crescents.

—

you sat up in your bed, back resting against the cold, wooden headboard. your eyes were fixed on the words that were printed of your newly checked out book — a soft tune playing from your laptop in the background, lyricless for the sake of keeping you focused, but still calming.

there’s a small amount of light peeking through your white window blinds, emitting from the pink and orange sunset. it set the serene mood for you, and it made it easier for you to pay attention to the novel that sat in your hands.

you tap your fingers on the book cover to the beat of the music. you cherished the days that you could sit back and relax without any disruptions, as any normal person would. there’s a small breeze that flows throughout your room through the small crack of your open window, whistling it’s way through the space.

sadly, your perfect afternoon was ruined as your roommate, na jaemin, bursts through the door.

“what are you doing?” he asks casually, waltzing in with no care. he takes a seat at your white desk, bag of chips in hand.

you sigh, taking a mental note of the page you were on, before placing the book down on your night stand. “reading. you ever knock?”

jaemin gives you a sly smile at the comment, “i never knock with you.”

“yeah, i know, still hoping that it’ll change,” you remark, crossing your arms over your chest. “so, what do you need?”

jaemin had been your roommate for nearly two years now, and you had grown accustomed to his shenanigans within the small household. he just loved gaining attention from you, and often asked you to hang out with him. you didn’t mind, but you would act like you did.

“wanna go see a movie later? i’m bored and have no plans,” he asks, chewing his snack loudly. you roll your eyes.

“cry about it, i promised mark lee that i would listen to a song he’s working on for a project of his,” you inform jaemin, and he snickers in response.

“mark lee the music major? you two have something going on there? i’ve never seen you two together,” he tells you. you throw a pillow at him, smiling in victory when it hits him in the face.

“no, we don’t. i just found out that we were old acquaintances, that’s all. i barely know the guy, we’ve only had like, a few conversations.”

“yeah, okay, whatever you say,” jaemin snorts. you throw another pillow at him, but this time, he dodges it. you hear a “ding” from your phone, and you’re quick to check it.

unknown number [5:27pm] hey, mark here

“who’s that?” jaemin asks, walking over so he can plop down onto your bed beside you, back against your headboard as well. he leans over, in an attempt to check the message.

“it’s mark,” you answer, earning a couple of eyebrow wiggles from him. you narrow your eyes at him, deciding whether you should ignore jaemin or hit his arm. you choose the latter, making him yelp in surprise. you stick your tongue out at him.

you [5:28pm] hi, what’s up?

mark [5:28pm] did you want to come over now? my roommate isn’t home

“ooh, his roommate isn’t home,” jaemin coos at you. you look over at him with a glare.

“wanna get hit again?”

“sorry!”

you [5:29pm] sure, just give me a little. ill be over in a sec

mark [5:29pm] okay :)

you sigh, getting up from your bed and grabbing a pair of white socks from a bin beside it, slipping them on.

“you’re gonna spend time with mark instead of me?” jaemin pouts, obviously trying to act cute. you cringe at him, throwing on a dark green hoodie.

“i would choose anyone over you,” you say jokingly, making jaemin try his best to pout harder at you. you make a fake puking noise, before heading out of your bedroom, towards the front door.

you slip on a pair of black slides, leaving your apartment and walking a few rooms down to mark’s suite. you knock a few times, hearing a bunch of rustling behind the white door shortly after. there’s the sound of footsteps, then the door unlocks and swings open. there he was, mark lee in all his might, standing in grey sweatpants and a white tee. he’s wearing the same round black rimmed glasses, the same glasses that you barely saw him wear at school.

“y/n,” he greets you with a smile on his face as he holds the door open for you, motioning for you to come in. his apartment was the exact same layout as your own, only it was much more minimalistic compared to your shared one with jaemin. you enter, taking your shoes off at the front.

there was not much to it, no paintings hanging from the white walls, no plants lying around, it was just a simple apartment. you walk further in, following close behind mark as he made his way to his own room. you bite your lip, asking yourself if it was weird to be in mark’s house.

when mark brought you to his room, you were amazed with the sudden change of atmosphere it held. he had smart lights on his walls, the type of smart lights that were shaped into triangles. they glowed a soft hue of blue, and he had instruments scattered around the area.

two monitors for his computer sat on his desk, with a regular white keyboard, and a piano keyboard. he sat down in his chair, but not before pulling up a second, smaller chair, next to him. he pats the area, signalling for you to sit.

you happily oblige, taking a seat next to him. he makes a few clicks with his mouse, opening an application on his computer. you watch him diligently, staying silent as you didn’t want to distract him. finally, he turns to you, a black headset that was connected to his computer in his hands. he hovers it over the top of your head, before bringing it down to place it over your ears.

“tell me if it’s too loud, okay?” he says kindly. you nod your head, giving him a thumbs up. he takes it as an okay to start playing the song, and quickly presses the space bar with a loud “click” of the keyboard.

when the music starts playing, mark eyes you carefully, looking for any sort of reaction out of you. he’s leaned back on his chair, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously. you shyly smile at the attention he gives you, but you stay on task. you cross your left leg over the right, taking the headphones and pressing them closer to your ears.

the melody starts off soft, fading in from the background. it reminds you of the type of music you would hear in a pretty cafe, or something you would find in jaemin’s “chill” spotify playlist. then, the beat grows louder, but the escalation seems perfect to you. you anticipate a beat drop, sitting on the edge of your seat as you stare at the screen in front of you.

then finally, when the beat drops fifteen seconds in, mark’s voice comes onto the track. he’s singing in a low voice. you never would have imagined that mark had a singing voice in him. it was smooth and it made you bop your head to the beat.

then, his rap came. it flowed so effortlessly, as if he didn’t even need to try. at this point, you were tapping your foot to the song and nodding your head, wishing you knew the lyrics so you could sing along. mark smiles at your genuine reaction, the feeling of nervousness seemingly overcoming him as he straightens his posture in his chair.

the audio mix was balanced, mark’s voice fitting well with the aesthetically themed music. it was soft and it was just him rapping and singing about the hardships in life, but it didn’t stop you from being astonished by how much talent the clumsy boy had.

you hadn’t noticed that you were smiling when the song had ended, a small one, but nonetheless authentic. you slowly removed the headset from your head, placing it on the desk in front of you.

“honest opinion?” mark asks, wincing to prepare himself for any backlash he could possibly receive from you.

“it was amazing,” you gush, bewildered by how he wasn’t famous yet. his face lights up, cheeks turning pink.

“your voice is just— wow. seriously, post this somewhere, to youtube or something.”

mark begins growing a tad shy from the shower of compliments you begin handing to him, and you can’t believe how humble he is. he rubs the back of his neck with his hand, a habit you noticed he had, his lips curling up into a smile.

“you really think so? you’re the only person i’ve shown this to.. so..”

“i’m serious,” you deadpan, beginning to stand up from your spot. “i could listen to this song all day.”

mark follows your actions, walking you towards the front door as you continue to give him feedback the entire way there. you slip your shoes back on, and he opens the door for you again.

“thanks for doing this y/n, it really means a lot,” he says to you, leaning against the door to hold it steady.

“any time.”

when you arrive back to your apartment seconds later, you admit to yourself that there’s a lot more to mark lee than what meets the eye. you find yourself a bit intrigued by his gentle and clumsy demeanour, wondering if he was still the same person when it came to being his friend or not.

“that was a short date,” jaemin’s voice calls out loudly from his room. you rub your temples with your fingers, eyes closed while you kick your slides off. you let out a small “tch”, walking to your bedroom.

“it wasn’t a date!”

—

two days later, you tapped your foot against the concrete inside your university building, sipping on your third hot coffee of the day. your laptop sat in front of you, two words typed across the screen for your two thousand word essay that was due tonight, at 11:59 pm. you were growing extremely fidgety as the volume of people’s voices kept increasing in your head.

your professor for your premodern japan class had never been the type to be flexible when it came to assignments, which made the fact that you forgot about your essay even worse. you were on the verge of biting your nails off, caffeine coursing through your veins.

you feel a tap on your shoulder, making you jump in your seat to look at the culprit. mark is taken back from your actions, backing up a bit.

“you good?” he asks, and you nod at him.

“i’m fine, you just scared me. that’s all.”

“oh,” he purses his lips, taking a seat across from you. he places his backpack beside himself, and you watch him the entire time. he notices, freezing.

“sorry, did you not want company?”

you shake your head, taking a sip of your coffee again. “no, that’s okay. you can sit here if you want.”

he smiles, pulling out his own laptop from his bag and setting it on the table. he plugs in his white apple earbuds in silence, but then opens his mouth to speak again.

“i just want you to know that it really means a lot that you enjoyed my song, and you said that you would listen to it on repeat so.. i sent it to you.”

your eyes light up, and you rush to pull out your phone from your bag. you turn it on, and just like mark had said, he had sent you the audio file just eleven minutes earlier.

“oh— thank you, now i can listen to this until i get sick of it,” you tease, emailing the file to yourself so you could upload it onto your computer. he sends you a shy smile, looking down in his lap.

“you’re really nice,” mark states, in a small voice. it’s cute. it was similar to that of an elementary school kid, when they would ask someone to be friends with them.

“thank you,” you beam, “you’re not so bad yourself.”

the air thickens as it fills with silence once again, the sound of mark’s and your fingers typing at your laptops louden. you were switching between writing your essay and harshly gulping down your caffeinated drink. you decide that reading stories is much different than writing your own, and it irritates you.

at this point, you’re biting on the inside of your cheek anxiously, the coffee making you much more jittery. you’re snapped away from your thoughts when you hear a voice call out mark’s name from behind you, his eyes shooting up to the sound. a girl walks up to him, she was tall and had the legs of a model.

“morning,” she chirps. you eye the two, watching as they interact and how mark’s face turns pink, but you’re quick to return to your assignment.

“hey,” mark greets her back. “what’s up?”

“nothing really, just wanted to say hi,” she replies, her voice high and filled with positivity. she was pretty — extremely pretty, the type of girl that most people would grow insecure from just looking in her general direction.

“oh,” he nods, “by the way, this is a friend of mine, y/n.”

she looks over to you, a bright smile on her face. the apples of her cheeks were prominent, along with her defined cheekbones. “nice to meet you, i’m yoojung.”

“hello,” you greet back, trying your best not to seem rude.

“we’re still on for tonight, right?” mark’s question is directed to yoojung, so you don’t pay attention to what they say.

“of course. i’m gonna go now, talk soon!” she waves goodbye to mark and you, walking off towards the exit of the establishment. when she leaves, you smirk at mark.

“girlfriend?” you ask him, and he shakes his head.

“i wish.”

—

you left the study hall nearly two hours later, after the short conversations and small “get to know each other” with mark. it was fun, getting to talk to him. you had learned that a friend had persuaded him into becoming a music major, and it didn’t take long for mark to realize he loved what he was doing.

mark and you ended up leaving together, settling that it was entertaining to have the presence of another around. the building you two lived in was walking distance from the university, so it took you two around fifteen minutes to arrive.

“i’m home,” you announce, shaking off your oversized black button up leather jacket. you open up the messy closet a few steps away from the door, taking a coat hanger and putting your jacket up. your sweaters and coats were the only items hanging up in there — jaemin usually just threw his jacket on the back of a chair, calling it a day.

“hi, honey,” jaemin flirts, in a joking manner. you scrunch your nose up as you walk farther into your apartment, towards the shared living room, where jaemin sat.

“that was disgusting,” you tell him, making him giggle. you wish you could say that this behaviour coming from jaemin was irregular, but it was something he did on a daily basis. being na jaemin’s best friend and roommate meant having to deal with his playful shenanigans everyday, and there have been numerous times where you have felt second hand embarrassment from his constant attitude.

“would you prefer another pet name?”

“i would like it if you called me by my first name,” you tell him, placing your white tote bag on the dining room table beside the living room. you take out your computer, charging cable, and phone, only to find that your wallet was missing. you rummage further, searching through the random nearly empty gum packages and varieties of lip balm that you had for safe keeping.

“shit,” you mutter, letting out a huff of frustration. must have dropped it while walking home.

you begin to grow a bit worried, not wanting to deal with cancelling your current credit card and debit card due to the loss of your wallet. you barely carried around cash unless it was absolutely necessary, but you had still lost your id, license, and other numerous cards.

“be right back,” you say to jaemin, fast-walking back to the front door. it should be fairly easy to find your missing item if no one had taken it, as you took the same route to and from the uni. you hope that people had enough human decency to at least leave the wallet where it was, but you knew that was rare.

you swing your door open in a hurry, only to be met with the face of the same black haired boy who you had hung out with earlier. his hand was in the form of a fist, as if he was preparing to knock. his eyes are wide, stuttering out a sentence out of surprise.

“mark?” you question, squinting your eyes. you eye the ground around him, trying to check if your wallet was at his feet.

“um, i was just coming over to ask if you wanted to come see a movie with me? the girl i wanted to go with cancelled on me, and all my friends are busy so..”

“i’m sorry, but i kind of lost my wallet and i need to find it right-“

“oh,” mark’s eyes light up, reaching into the back pocket of his black jeans, pulling out your lavender coloured wallet, decorated with white embroidered flowers, “is this yours?”

“oh my god,” you exclaim as he hands it to you, “where did you find it?”

“i found it right now, outside of the elevator when i was coming over,” he explains to you, nodding his head.

“thank you so much,” you say, and he assures you that it was no big deal.

“so,” he starts, the tips of his ears turning pink. “did you want to tag along? i understand if you don’t.”

you stop to think for a short moment, one thing you hated was how socially awkward you were around people you barely knew. you were never good at maintaining conversation for a long period of time, and your social battery ran out way too quickly. it was the reason why you didn’t have many close friends, and it made you wish you were as outgoing as someone like, jaemin.

“hm,” you pause, maybe it wouldn’t be that weird. you had already spent ‘quality’ time with mark, if you could even call it that. it would be nice to have another friend.

“what movie?”

mark’s eyes and nose crinkle as his lips form into a smile. “it’s a horror movie, hope you don’t mind?”

“okay, i’ll go. what time does it start?”

“uh, in like 30 minutes.”

—

luck was on your side tonight. the time you spent with mark was anything but tense. it was different, compared to the study session you two had earlier in the day. you two shared a number of similarities and interests, and you found that mark held a talent for making you laugh. not to mention how contagious his own was.

horror movies never were your thing. you forgot how easily spooked you were, and how high your senses were while watching them. every little thing made you jump, whether it was the slightest sound or shortest scene. mark, on the other hand, seemed unphased. he had sat there for a majority of the time, shoving popcorn and snacks into his face.

“dude, i’m surprised we didn’t get kicked out,” mark laughs at you, making you lightly smack his shoulder.

“i can’t help it — i’m just not good at keeping quiet while watching scary things,” you explain to him, trying to justify why you screamed during the jump scare. you two exited the theatre together, mark still eating some of the leftover popcorn.

“i wouldn’t have brought you if i knew you were gonna scream that loud.”

“shut up,” you retort sharply, rolling your eyes in his direction.

“i’m kidding!”

when you two make your exit together, the sky was already dark. it would have been much prettier if the street lights weren’t drowning out the twinkle of the stars. the warm summer breeze is gentle when making contact with your skin, making you inhale deeply. the faint sound of car engines revving makes up for the quiet walk towards mark’s car, and you notice that you two had a habit of going silent while together.

you also notice how mark’s eyes glisten under the dimly lit lights, and there’s something about it that you find deeply attractive. you’re able to shake off the thoughts quickly as you two enter his car, because you had never been the type to crush on someone you barely knew.

“something wrong?” mark checks on you, catching sight of you zoning out. your eyes snap from your hands that were fiddling in your lap, to mark’s face.

“no, just thinking,” you smile, and he nods his head in understanding. from sitting next to mark lee, you’re able to point out the simplest things about him; his honey smooth skin, sprinkles of light that shined in his eyes, and the lone eyelash that sat on his cheek. you don’t say anything, though. it’s better that way.

—

during the next four weeks, mark lee’s presence takes a toll on your life. for the better, that is.

he insists that you two should study more together, commenting that you were much quieter while focused compared to his group of friends. you were a bit reluctant about it, still not the bestest friends with him, but you felt bad and gave in. the sessions were barely held at school or a library, it was usually just in either his or your apartment.

jaemin would not stop complaining about how much time you ended up spending with mark, constantly whining for not giving as much attention to him. you would always pull his hair and tell him to shut up, though.

mark enjoyed walking to his and your tuesday and wednesday morning classes, stopping by to grab coffees before reaching the school. you two would part ways, then meet up after class to walk back home. it was like an unsaid ritual between the two of you.

during the time you two spent together, you observed the way you both opened up to each other. he would become more giddy, while you would drop sarcastic comments off the tip of your tongue.

“how bad was my kissing in high school?” mark drops the question casually, laying in your bed with his phone in his hands. his eyes wander to your own, while you nearly spit out the water you were sipping.

you recall the event, even though you wished you hadn’t — mostly because you wanted to forget. it was an embarrassing and low moment for you, grabbing the hand of a stranger and making such intimate contact with him. as stated before, you were not a rule breaker, or a “wild one”, as most say. you usually stayed within your comfort zone, and you liked it that way.

“i, um,” you stutter. he gives you a goofy grin, very interested in hearing your response.

“it wasn’t amazing, but it wasn’t bad.. does that make sense?”

he sits up, placing his arms behind him to hold himself up. he tilts his head to the side, the dark green tee he had decided to wear today complimenting his eyes.

“huh? what does that even mean?”

“i don’t know, i can’t remember that much!”

you swallow. that was a lie. you do remember, you remembered it because you had been thinking about it for a couple of days. you don’t know why, though. you have no idea what could be the cause of why you kept thinking about how mark’s hands had roamed your body that night, not removing any clothing, but still erupting butterflies in your stomach. you spent minutes trying to remember what mark’s lips had tasted of, before you settled on cherry. his hair was messy and the music playing outside was muffled by the walls surrounding you two. if someone hadn’t come in that night, knocking softly on the door, you don’t know what would have happened.

“was i really not that memorable?” mark asks with a frown, and you shake your head.

“alright,” he sighs and shrugs his shoulders, laying back down onto the bed with a thump of your mattress.

mark’s phone makes a loud “ding”, vibrating in his hands. you twirl a pen around your fingers, rereading the neat notes you took for your social development program.

“who’s that?” you ask, eyes still remaining on your paper as you revise it carefully. you’re slouched against your chair, already growing bored.

“yoojung,” mark replies. your lips tighten, an unwanted feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. an unseen sour expression forms on your face as you shove the emotion back down, crossing your legs.

you hum in understanding, unable to keep repeating your tedious study sheet. you weren’t able to fathom why mark had seemed so alluring for the past couple of days. with each passing day, you found your feelings becoming increasingly intolerable.

you aren’t aware that mark is getting out of your bed, throwing his hoodie over his slender frame in a hurry to leave. it isn’t until he’s tapping his finger at the edge of your desk, looking down at you. you blink a few times, focusing your attention to him.

“i’m gonna go pick up yoojung,” he tells you, “her car broke down.”

you nod your head, not saying a word. it isn’t needed, nor did you want to. mark pats your shoulder, signalling a goodbye. he exits your room, closing the door behind him.

you let out a heavy breath when he leaves, groaning to yourself. you stand up from your rolling chair, a squeak coming from the wooden floorboards. you allow yourself to fall face first onto your bed, mark’s scent filling your nose. you scrunch your face up, turning around so your back is against the mattress.

you never liked being in a place where you liked someone, especially when it was someone you so badly did not want feelings for. they took millennias for you to get rid of, and they always gave you a constant want to be with them. you huff, shoving a pillow in your face, having an odd desire to want to yell. you didn’t want to have the image of his brown eyes engraved in your memory, or the fluttering of your stomach that you hid whenever mark would send you a smile.

one thing about you was that you were good at telling people how you felt. throughout the years of high school, you would blurt out confessions to your crushes whenever you felt a faint tug of your heart strings when thinking about them. it was easier that way, it meant if they felt the same way, you could try. on the other hand, if they didn’t, it would be exceptionally easier to rid yourself of your unrequited emotions.

so you ask yourself now, why are you so afraid of telling mark?

was it because you weren’t in high school anymore and that you were supposed to look at relationships more seriously? was it because you were afraid of his answer?

minutes pass as you stay deep in thought. was it because you didn’t want to lose mark for something as petty and small as a crush? or was it because you knew that he felt something for another?

you stare at the ceiling with a neutral expression resting on your face. that was the worst part, knowing that mark liked yoojung. you were already awaiting inevitable rejection from his end, and it was frustrating. you knew it was cruel to want yoojung to be a bad person, so you could tell mark about how awful she was. in truth, she was one of the most attractive and sweetest people you had ever met.

what wasn’t there to like about her? more importantly, how come mark and her weren’t together yet? you swore that they acted like they were made for each other. the feeling of self pity begins to engulf you, the irony of the truth feeling too unreal.

you desperately wished that life was like a paperback that sat on the white bookshelf in your room. it would have been so much easier if it was fiction, if your life was just lines of ink. reality was bitter, always leaving you unsatisfied. oh, what you would give to be a woman living her dreams on a couple hundred of pages. but that’s all books were; fabrications, illusions, all they did was offer company to the plants that sat beside them on your shelving.

you take the airpods off of your white night stand, opening the case and putting them in your ears. you grasp your phone in your hands, clicking on the familiar file of mark’s song. your eyes linger towards your window, the dark night sky reflecting in your orbs.

you know mark would be an amazing partner, he came off so extremely shy at first, yet he had always been gentle. his eyes always lit up when he saw yoojung, greeting her with a wave of his hand and a bashful smile. he never failed to be interested in what yoojung had to say, ears always perked up when she began speaking. you would often tease him about it, but he never seemed to mind.

you dream of mark lee that night, humming to the sound of his voice, hoping to wake up to the same mark that appeared in your imagination.

—

“y/n,” jaemin’s voice says your name in a sweet, sing-song, sickening way. you open your eyes slowly, the sudden view of sunlight giving you a headache. you hear the faint sound of your alarm ringing from under your pillow, the annoyingly loud default iphone noise spreading the pain in your skull.

“what?” you say groggily, sitting up and reaching to hit the snooze button, memorizing where it was put after having to hear the noise for years. you close your eyes again, falling back onto your bed.

“don’t you have a morning class today? it’s tuesday,” jaemin reminds you. you open your right eye, scowling at him standing in the doorway.

“i don’t feel like going,” you put it out for him simply. “i’ll just ask someone else to send me notes on the lecture.”

you rarely ever missed class. the only time you had ever failed to attend a lesson was when you were deathly sick. you take a guess that your mood had dropped significantly because of how stressed you were, mark lee never leaving your thoughts.

“really? better tell that to mark, he’s waiting for you,” jaemin informs you. you groan in annoyance, shoving the covers off of you. yawning, you sluggishly begin walking towards the front door.

mark’s hair is styled neatly, sporting a simple white t-shirt and black basketball shorts, a black and white nike windbreaker topping off today’s look. his eyebrows scrunch up when he sees you in your pajamas.

“i’m not going,” you state.

mark tilts his head, “why not? are you okay?”

“i’m tired.”

that wasn’t a lie, you were tired. tired of longing for a boy that didn’t see you in the light you saw him, tired of trying to convince yourself that you just felt lonely and you were just making up your feelings in your head.

“okay then.. i’ll visit you later?”

you lazily nod your head, eyes already beginning to close again. mark looks as if he’s worried, but you were already on your way back to your bedroom, having the desire to crawl into bed and wrap the covers around your body. you murmur to yourself the entire way there, cursing yourself out and stomping simultaneously.

“what’s wrong?” jaemin’s voice asks, half concerned, half curious. he’s already placing himself next to you when you inch your way back under your blankets. you don’t look at him, but you can tell he’s burning holes into the back of your head.

“nothing,” you grumble, bringing your bed sheets up to your chin.

“sure,” jaemin says, sarcasm dripping off of his voice. “not like this is the first time you’ve played hooky in years.”

you remain quiet, staring at nothing.

“what is up with you today?” he asks again. you never talked to jaemin about your boy problems, and you sure as hell did not want to start now. the only issue was you knew jaemin would never stop nagging you until you told him something close to the truth. you still don’t talk, you just want to rest your eyes and sleep for the entire day.

“hello? you gonna answer me?” jaemin starts poking at your uncovered cheeks continuously. he’s gentle enough to not hurt you, but irritating enough to make you want to bite his finger off. “this have anything to do with mark?”

it sounded so childlike when you thought about it. not having the energy to attend a class because you were stressed about a boy. if a girl friend of yours had told you the same story, you would brush it off with a shrug. you wearily rub your eyes with a yawn.

“yeah.”

“i knew it.”

you click your tongue in annoyance. you turn your body, laying on your left side instead of your right to see jaemin’s face.

“so, you like him? are you going to tell him?” he nudges you with a slight, close-lipped smile. you shake your head.

“there’s no point,” you sigh, “he likes someone else.”

“oh,” jaemin responds in a quiet voice.

“yep.”

“do you know who?” he asks.

“yeah, kim yoojung,” you tell jaemin. he can’t help but feel sorry for you, emotionally exhausted while lying in bed.

“i see.”

jaemin shuffles his way out of your room, quietly closing the door behind him. you stare into space for a bit. you felt like an idiot, upset about an unrequited crush for a boy you had only known for a month.

you feel even more pathetic when images of mark fill your empty mind. your feelings for mark were the aftertaste you gained after eating something strong, like onions or garlic. it made you scrunch up your nose and cringe, wishing you had eaten something else.

god, did you wish you liked someone other than mark lee.

—

mark wasn’t lying when he said he would be visiting you later that day. he comes knocking on your door with a drink tray holding two hot coffees in his hand, a few pages of paper in the other. you forgot how good-natured mark had always been, even if he was an introvert.

“hi— oh, mark,” you squeak in surprise, holding the door for him to come in. he steps inside your apartment, taking his shoes off at the front.

“hope you’re feeling better,” mark pipes, setting the coffee on the counter as you follow behind him. “that’s a white mocha, you like those right?”

he turns around, handing you the pages of paper. “these are your notes from your missed classes, um i knew people in there and i just thought it was pretty convenient.”

your heart beats within your chest, taking the papers from his hand.

“thank you, you really didn’t have to.”

“it’s fine,” he smiles reassuringly. you hate this, how mark had no clue what he was doing. it felt like a false sense of hope he was sending your way, making your breath hitch.

“no, seriously, you—”

“i know that you don’t enjoy the hassle of asking around for stuff like this,” he replies. you bask in mark’s presence for a short moment, his casual wear looking oddly attractive today. it makes you feel bad about the oversized hoodie you stole from jaemin and the baggy sweats you were wearing.

you sit down, laying out the sheets of lined paper on the dining room table, analyzing the writing carefully. mark takes a seat next to you, sipping on his own coffee as he watches you. he inclines closer to you, trying to read the writing for himself.

“looks complicated,” he observes, his breath hitting the back of your neck as he leans over you, causing you to straighten out your posture, letting out a cough. he returns back to his position, looking at you with worrisome eyes.

“do you have a cold?” he asks you, searching for any signs of sickness. you shake your head no, exhaling softly.

“no, just had an itch in my throat, that’s all.”

he places the back of his hand against your forehead, scrunching his eyebrows up. your current situation appeared as if you would find it in the kdramas that jaemin spent so much of his time playing on the television of your living room. you rarely paid attention to them, sneering at him when he would beg you to watch one with him.

you never understood the fuss about it, but now you knew what it was like to be the main character of one. it was disgustingly heartwarming as you avoid locking eyes with mark as he retracts his hand.

“yeah, i’m no doctor but your temperature is fine,” he nods, sipping on his coffee again.

“how’s yoojung?” you finally speak up, not knowing what else to talk about. plus, you were weirdly curious of how she was doing.

“she’s good,” he tells you with a sheepish smile on his face. you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear nervously. “not much going on with her, they did take her car into the shop, though.”

“really? for how long?”

“hm,” he hums with a half shrug, “not really sure, but it shouldn’t be for that long. i offered to drive her around until her car gets fixed, but she said no.”

“sounds like yoojung,” you say, gritting your teeth with a closed mouth.

“should i just tell her how i feel?” mark asks out of the blue. you shift in your spot uncomfortably, but mark is too deep in thought to notice. you pause, only to quickly clear your throat.

“go for it,” you chuckle, a fake smile spread across your face.

inaudible shaky breaths are leaving your mouth, only out of agitation. the rain outside pitters, droplets of water racing down the window panes quietly. you’re stuck between the ideas of just coming clean to mark or watching him pursue his own feelings. it was so clear that mark was interested in one girl, and one girl only. the only outcome that you had within this game was a losing one, either no longer having mark as a friend, or suffering with unreciprocated feelings in private.

none of the endings seemed appealing to you. you were beginning to wonder if you should just go out and start dating again, but the very thought of the idea seemed childish. you weren’t in high school anymore, so having feelings like this just felt immature.

“is there any new music i can look forward to hearing from you?” you question.

“maybe,” mark raises his eyebrows twice, “just thinking of a name for a new track. wanna have a listen and help me with the naming process?”

you roll your eyes with a playful smile, extending your hand. he grins back, unlocking his phone and opening the file. he places his phone in your hand, and you’re quick to press play. the melody was slower, compared to the first song he showed you. it was less of computer generated beats, and more of actual instruments. the strum of a guitar welcomes you with open arms, the notes lower pitched and calming.

you inhale deeply as mark’s familiar voice begins singing, the lyrics of the song coincidentally being about a boy who loved someone who did not love him back. you prop your chin on your hand, your expression neutral compared to someone who felt like crying out of self pity.

you tap your foot to the beat, looking down at the table.

you pause the song, placing mark’s phone on the table. he looks at you with confused eyes, worried that you may not like what he made.

“did it sound bad? it was the beat, wasn’t it?”

you gather your courage, looking mark in the eyes.

“i have feelings for you.”

mark’s eyes go wide in silence. you swallow the lump forming in your throat, fiddling with the black hair tie on your left wrist. the sound of the rain grows louder as the silence prolongs. every inch of your being simmers with regret, seeing mark’s reaction.

it was humiliating, watching as mark tried to form a sentence in his head as you knew what the answer was going to be. you never held any good expectations for your confession, because you knew it was a lost cause. you just figured this would be the easiest way to get over him.

your hands grew sweatier as you tried to rub them on your hoodie. you were beginning to think that maybe, telling mark was the wrong way to go. you could have just hid how you felt, and maybe your crush would have gone away on its own. you expected that it wouldn’t have been that hard to distance yourself from mark.

“what?” was the only thing mark was able to breathe out.

you ball the fabric at the hem of your hoodie, tightening the grip of your fists. your breaths are shaky, maybe there was a part of mark that felt the same, but that was just something you told yourself to feel better.

“sorry to tell you this now,” you apologize, looking down at your legs.

“no, no, it’s okay,” mark leans back in his chair, eyes filled with bewilderment, “y/n..”

you had seen this coming from miles away — you just wished that this had changed how you felt about him weeks before.

“you’re really amazing, and you’re a really good friend of mine, seriously. i cherish you a lot, just not.. that way. i hope this doesn’t change anything between us.”

although you knew the outcome of what was going to happen, that didn’t change the pang of hurt that came with it. maybe this didn’t affect mark, but it affects you. you don’t catch feelings often, and unfortunately, you did for the boy you couldn’t have.

“i’m sorry, y/n,” mark finishes, his pity-filled eyes boring into your own. you straighten your position, offering a small smile towards his direction.

“i know, i think yoojung and you would make a much lovelier couple anyway,” you tell him. it sounds pettier than what is intended. his expression softens.

“it’s not like that,” he tries to explain, but you don’t believe that.

books are beautiful, they are magical, fascinating, and enticing. life is, simply put, a bitch.

“i have some quizzes to study for,” you tell him, which wasn’t exactly a lie. you just needed a reason to be alone for a bit.

“i can help, if you want, it’s not exactly my expertise but—“

“thanks, but i’m fine.”

you would rather be by yourself than have mark stay with you out of guilt. there’s a part of you that’s mad at yourself for putting this weight on his shoulders, and another part of you is glad. although you thought of it as selfish, it was the best way to rid yourself of how you felt towards him. it gave you the closure that you needed.

“i want to help, really,” it sounds like he’s pleading, trying to give you purpose to have him stay. it’s painfully obvious that he’s doing it to console you.

“i’ll be fine on my own,” you finalize. you gather the papers on the table and stack them. “thank you for getting these for me. i’ll talk to you later.”

mark is speechless. you know that your reaction was harsh, but you just wanted mark to go. the two of you don’t talk when you walk him to the door, and you don’t reply to his “bye”. when he finally leaves, you bury your face in your hands out of frustration.

the apartment is now quiet, the sound of the black clock on the wall ticking filling the room. your stomach is turning from the events that went down, anxiety always made you nauseous.

now that you had finally told mark how you felt, there was one step left; getting over him.

—

the next day wasn’t much better. mark sent you a good morning text, and even though it was something he did everyday, it felt more like he sent it because he was feeling guilty. you didn’t respond, instead you just muted him for the day. you needed the space.

you made sure to leave ten minutes earlier than you usually did that morning, in order to avoid mark. not seeing his face would make it slightly easier to forget about your feelings for him. mark had showed up to your apartment moments after, asking for you, only for jaemin to say you had left.

you thought about mark all day, wondering what he was doing and if he was thinking about you. you distracted yourself throughout the hours with studying and speaking to other friends, but he would always end up back in the middle of your pondering.

you hate it, how not seeing him affects you more.

“y/n,” your study partner, from your history of the choson dynasty course, impatiently taps her pen against the side of your laptop. you blink a few times, redirecting your focus to her.

“you seem distracted,” she points out. you shake your head at her, inhaling as you smile.

“no, i’m okay,” you say politely. you push the thoughts of mark lee back to the depths of your stomach, rubbing your hand on your forehead frustratingly.

“before i forget,” she says, “there’s a guy i’m friends with. same year as us, he wanted me to let you know that he’s interested in you.”

you raise a brow, “how does he even know me?”

“he sees us together sometimes,” she chuckles back a reply, “his name is yeonjun? you might know him.”

“sorry i’m just not that interested in dating—“

she cuts you off, patting your shoulder. “you had one bad experience with a uni boy, you never know what could happen. plus, i need yeonjun to stop nagging me.”

you purse your lips. she was right, one bad experience didn’t mean the end of things, but you were unsure. a blind date would be a great way to take your mind off of your horrible memory of last night. with a bite of your lip, you find yourself noticing the pros, rather than the cons of meeting this guy named yeonjun.

“what’s he like?” you ask, a bit curious. her emotion shifts, making it obvious that she was trying to find the right words to describe him.

“he’s nice,” is the first thing she says, “sometimes very full of himself, but overall, he’s good looking. one time he walked into a glass sliding door.”

you hold back a small chuckle. you’re hesitating to give an answer so soon, but you figured that there was no harm. maybe it would be fun.

“you can give him my number,” you tell her, nodding your head once. she squeezes your hand in a friendly manner, “thank you y/n. now he’ll finally get off my case.”

you can’t help but feel flattered, that a guy would constantly ask your friend about you. it’s how any normal person would react to information like that.

she pulls out her phone quickly, her fingers tapping rapidly at the screen. her ringer is on, and you can tell by the sound of the apple keyboard making too much noise for your liking. you aren’t trying to be nosy, but the “whoosh” the phone makes indicates she’s sending a message to someone.

your eyes flicker to her face when she smiles. she turns her phone off, placing it on the table. “i just sent it to him. he’s kind of nervous, probably freaking out right now.”

the comment itself makes you bashfully lower your head. you feel the hours of staring at your computer screen finally catching up to your brain, straining your eyes. you squint in pain, closing the laptop softly.

“you okay?” she asks.

“i think i’m going to grab a bite to eat, i’m starving.”

she nods in understanding. you carefully place your belongings in your book bag, trying not to cause a ruckus that catches the attention of your fellow peers.

“bye,” you say casually, and she responds with the nod of her head. it’s her own way of saying goodbye.

by the time you are about thirteen steps away from the table you were at, you’re already taking out your own phone to dial jaemin’s number. although he can be an annoying little prick, he’s someone you can eat in silence with and not feel uncomfortable. you are also aware that this was around the time he finishes his afternoon class, so you knew he would be around.

your footsteps pat against the concrete flooring of the halls, not making much noise. you exit the building through the glass sliding doors, towards a local cafe. the line rings a few times, but you know jaemin always answers his phone.

“hello?” his voice chimes.

“can you come get food with me?” it sounds like a question, but you mean it as more of a demand.

“of course i can,” he answers. “where do you want to meet?”

“i’m still on campus, outside by the main doors.”

“behind you,” is the last thing jaemin says, before he hangs up. you turn around, seeing jaemin waltzing towards you, a backpack lazily slung over his shoulder. students are exiting behind him, their talking growing loud.

“miss me?” jaemin jokes. you two walk side by side together.

“you’re disgusting,” you cringe back at him. he tries to pout cutely in your direction, but it just makes the second hand embarrassment grow.

jaemin pushes the glass door of the cafe open, the bell chiming. he holds it open for you, and the delightful smell of freshly baked bread fills your nostrils.

“welcome!” the cashier beams from behind the white countertops, a bright smile plastered on her face. you wave your hand in greeting, sitting down with jaemin at a two person table beside the glass walls.

“mark was looking for you, he was wondering why you left without him today,” jaemin tells you, placing his backpack on the floor by his feet. you trace the lines in the wood of the table.

“i told him that i like him,” you bite your lip. jaemin rests his chin on the palm of his hand.

“you did?”

you nod, “he said he didn’t see me in that way. kind of avoiding him now.”

jaemin’s expression noticeably softens. “it’s gonna be okay. there’s a lot of guys out there, tons who are more interesting than mark.”

“i know,” you nod again, “that’s why i gave a guy my number.”

it’s no surprise when jaemin’s eyes widen, his mouth parting in pure astonishment. as mentioned countless times, you really weren’t interested in dating at the moment. handing out your phone number on a silver platter was definitely something jaemin did not expect from you.

“what? who?” he begins bombarding you with countless questions, asking how you met the guy, what he’s studying, and he kept dishing them out without letting you answer a single one.

“calm down, i haven’t even met him yet!” you exclaim.

“what? then how did you give him your number?”

you sigh, “my study partner told me that he was interested in me, so i told her to give him my number. i don’t know, it was a spur of the moment kind of thing. his name is yeonjun.” you knew it was out of the ordinary, but you barely cared anymore. you felt so stupid for telling mark about your feelings, so you just ended up doing another stupid thing to make up for it.

“first, you have a crush on mark lee, next, you’re giving your contact information out to strangers? my god — my little girl is growing up,” jaemin teases you, placing his hands over his heart. you pinch his arm in retaliation, snorting back a laugh when he winces in pain.

jaemin then stands up, taking his debit card out of his dark blue skinny jeans. “hot drink or cold drink?”

“cold.”

“iced caramel macchiato it is, then,” he responds. he walks away, towards the cash register to order. you bask in the ambience surrounding you, faint music playing on the speakers and conversations of others filling your ears. you don’t mind the volume, it just sounded like background noise to you.

the cafe is pretty, dark wooden tables scattered around the room and soft lights are hanging from the ceiling. there are some small leather couches in the corners of the area. only one is taken, but you know people prefer the tables and wooden chairs with cushions over the worn down couches.

jaemin comes back, placing your coffees and two sandwiches on the table, sitting back down.

“what did you get?” you ask, sipping your sweet coffee. the condensation on the outside of the cup is cold, dripping down and leaving droplets on the table. jaemin pushes his own drink towards you, motioning for you to try it.

“see for yourself.”

you immediately regret bringing your lips to the straw, you knew of jaemin’s strange coffee order with four added espresso shots. you scrunch up your facial features when the coffee hits your tongue, giving the drink back to him.

“i hate you for making me do that,” you state.

“no you don’t,” he retorts with a smile, taking sips of his own drink as if it didn’t taste like hell.

you hear the same cafe bell ringing, but you pay little to no attention to the sound. jaemin’s head shoots up, eyes darting to whoever had just walked in. you’re too busy checking apps on your phone to even realize it.

“don’t look now,” jaemin tells you, bringing your focus to him. you look at him with the kind of eyes that say, “what the hell are you talking about?”.

“why? what’s wrong with you—“

“if you’re trying to steer clear of mark, i really would not turn around.”

you now understand what jaemin is trying to tell you, and it nearly makes you laugh. it really is stupid in your opinion, but you decide that this is the only way to get over mark. you being you, you take a peek at him, just because.

he looks nice, in a black beanie, a black jacket, blue jeans, and white tee under the said jacket. it’s a biased opinion, of course, because you think mark looks good in anything.

he goes to order, not before pulling out his phone to text someone, though. you had underestimated how much it would take you to not go over and say hi, but you are able to keep your composure.

he’s out of the cafe with a drink in hand as fast as he had entered, and you let out a sigh of relief.

“that was fun,” jaemin snorts, leaning back further on his chair. you kick his foot from under the table, and he reaches down in pain.

you huff, going back on your phone and deciding to text your study buddy. she responds almost immediately, asking what you needed.

you’re typing furiously fast, eyebrows scrunched up as jaemin merely observed.

“what are you doing?” he asks.

“asking for yeonjun’s number.”

you don’t know why you were doing this, maybe it was because you saw mark’s face and it reminded you of yesterday. it was like it triggered you, it made you want to find someone other than him. you wanted him to know that his rejection didn’t affect you (although it did). by now, you had copy and pasted yeonjun’s number in your contacts, while jaemin looked slightly worried about your change in attitude.

he’s never seen you like this; weirdly impulsive and making decisions based on your emotions, you are a very logical and analytical person. you always thought something out rationally before taking action.

something changed in you, and you knew exactly whose face was behind the reason.

—

you smile to yourself, staring down at the texts on your phone. you had been messaging yeonjun for around an hour now, and you were safe to say that he was easily one of the sweetest people you have ever met.

you had only decided to message him when jaemin and you arrived back at the apartment, and you had been eyeing his contact in your phone doubtingly for a good five minutes.

when you texted him first, he was quite excited. although, he was a little embarrassed that you had decided to reach out to him instead. you assured him that it was okay, and the conversation continued on. you were just happy to find someone new to talk to, who wasn’t your study partner and who wasn’t your roommate.

whilst mark still lingered in your mind, talking to someone as outgoing as yeonjun seemed to be a temporary get away for yourself. you understand that it seemed a bit selfish, knowing that yeonjun took an interest in you, but you knew that it was just a small infatuation. there was no harm in talking to the boy over messages.

yeonjun [3:31 pm] i’m sorry it took me this long to talk to u ! u’re so intimidating in real life

you didn’t think that people actually thought about you as difficult to approach, you just thought your friends said that to you as a joke. now, you realize that you did look a little mean in everyday life.

you [3:32 pm] dw about it lol i don’t mind

yeonjun [3:32 pm] well im glad i get to talk to u now

it’s quite evident that yeonjun’s personality had a flirty undertone to it, he seemed like the type of guy where pickup lines rolled off of the tip of his tongue with ease. you had both exchanged pictures earlier so you could save them to each other’s contacts. he was smiling largely in his, his hair black and his attractive face looked too perfect to be true. your selfie wasn’t much, just you putting up a peace sign with the corners of your lips slightly lifted.

of course, yeonjun had taken the opportunity to call you pretty when you sent it.

yeonjun [3:33 pm] do u want to hang out some time? it could be fun !

your eyes linger on his message for a small amount of time, silent thoughts are going through your head. you didn’t want to lead him on — yeonjun seemed friendly (although this was an opinion you had made based off of your text conversation) and you didn’t want to give him a false sense of hope.

but another part of your mind had you asking yourself, what could go wrong? you could just label it as a friend hang out, not a date. he didn’t even mention that it was a date, he just asked you if you wanted to hang out.

yeonjun [3:34 pm] did i scare u off? :,(

you [3:34 pm] nono i’m still here !! just trying to see what days i’m free

well, that wasn’t exactly a lie. you were trying to find an open day to possibly meet up with yeonjun, but you were also beginning to second guess your choice.

you quickly click out of your messages with yeonjun, only to be met with three unread notifications from mark. it was from two hours ago, but you were too distracted to even notice that he had texted you.

mark [1:12pm] hii are u busy?

mark [1:12pm] can we hang out today? i have nothing to do

mark [1:13pm] do you want coffee? i’m at the cafe by the school

you realize that mark had texted you inside that coffee shop. it pained you to see that mark was acting like nothing happened, while you were hurting. his texts made it harder to avoid him.

your fingers are frozen, hovering over the keyboard. you shake off the impulse of wanting to text mark back. if mark really wanted to hang out with you, you figured he would most likely just come over and knock on your door.

you quickly return to yeonjun’s texts, answering him.

you [3:36pm] are you free tonight ? :)

yeonjun doesn’t text back right away, and you wonder to yourself if it was too soon. you wanted to be out of the house, you wanted to go somewhere you didn’t have a chance of mark waltzing up to you to say hi. it was too embarrassing, and too soon for your liking. you cringe at the thought of yesterday.

yeonjun [3:39pm] SORRY i got kind of excited that u wanted to meet so soon HDJDJFH

yeonjun [3:39pm] but yes, i am free tonight. does 7 pm sound okay, ma’am?

a laugh can’t help but escape the grasp of your lips. you enjoyed yeonjun’s goofy and odd sense of humour, he knew how to keep you entertained and he was good at it. the texts between you two flowed nicely, the timid/serious girl versus the flirty/comical guy dynamic worked great between the two of you.

you [3:40pm] 7pm would be great <3 my address is XXXXXXX

you turn your phone off with the click of your power button, getting off of your mattress to rummage through clothes. you hadn’t been on a date in awhile, and you didn’t think you were going to go on one so soon either. basically, you had no idea what to talk about, what to do, or what to wear. you hoped yeonjun would figure out where you two were going to go.

opening your white doored closet, you face your hanging dresses. praying that you still fit them, you grasp at the fabrics, pushing the pieces of clothing until you could find one that you liked.

you grab a baby blue dress that hangs off of a black coat hanger, slipping it on with ease. it’s an off shoulder short sleeved one, something you don’t usually wear (because jaehyun had bought it for you when you dated) and it goes just above your knee. you like the way it fits your frame, satisfied with your choice. you take a peek at yourself in the bathroom mirror, smiling.

“going somewhere?” jaemin’s voice chimes from the doorway. he’s leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest.

“mhm, i’m going to hang out with yeonjun,” you reply back, brushing the knots out of your hair.

“aw,” he pouts, “you’re finally gonna get some!”

“jaemin?”

“yeah?”

“i’m gonna kick you in the balls if you don’t go away.”

“i’m going!”

—

you tap your foot anxiously as the elevator descends down your building. god — you definitely did not see this coming. it was like you were constantly making irrational choices for no reason; as if you weren’t in control. you had put on a handful of makeup, which was also something that was unusual for you.

a peach and brown eyeshadow was placed neatly on your eyelids, a thin wing of eyeliner on top of it. there were sparkles in the corner of your eyes, a peachy blush on the apples of your cheeks and on the tip of your nose. you had settled on a clear lip gloss, rather than a lipstick.

it felt nice to be confident in how you looked, even if you were just going out of impulse.

“wow,” yeonjun visibly mouths when he gains sight of you walking out of your apartment building. yeonjun was much more attractive in person, standing in front of his black car.

“yeonjun?” you say, walking up to him. he’s still admiring you, an evident pink colour appearing on his cheeks.

“yeah! you’re just really pretty.”

the comment itself makes you shy. he holds his car door open for you, allowing you to slide in. the seats are leather, and it’s fairly clean inside. the floor mats have little to no dirt on them, and you didn’t even see an inch of bird poop on the outside of his car.

before he starts the car, you notice the familiar feeling of guilt bubbling from inside of you. this was a date, a real date. even though you didn’t want a relationship, yeonjun had the thought in his mind that you did. you just couldn’t lead him on like this, and it was better to tell him now than to let it even grow a tiny bit.

you admit, it’s quite inconsiderate of you to do this. even if you had just met him, lying was never a good start to a healthy friendship/relationship. nowadays, you were having a hard time navigating your own moral compass.

the car engine revs up loudly, and yeonjun hands you his phone that’s connected to the aux cord.

“here,” he says, placing it in your hand. “i want to know what kind of music you like.”

it’s a simple, but kind gesture. the beginning of this night was much different than the “dates” you went on with boyfriends in high school. they were full of awkward hand holding and prolonged silences, and it always had you dreading to go on the next.

this felt much more pleasant, especially since you knew the guy was into you, and that you wouldn’t have to worry about much. the only thing eating away at you was the truth, and why you were here. it felt like you were using yeonjun to get back at mark, and you just wanted to clear things up with yeonjun before doing anything.

but you don’t.

—

yeonjun presents you with two admission tickets to an aquarium when he parks the car. you think it’s cute, and you definitely thought that his idea of the first date fit his personality.

you, personally, enjoyed aquariums. although you didn’t enjoy the strong, fishy smell, you thought it was relaxing and fun to just walk around and see the different types of ocean creatures.

the environment is serene, not many kids or people go to the aquarium at night. there’s a map when you two enter, and yeonjun takes a picture of it to navigate. it’s a bit dark inside, but you don’t mind. it’s warmer inside than it is outside as well, and much quieter.

“jellyfish!” yeonjun exclaims, like a cute little kid. he takes a hold of your hand, almost dragging you to the section of bright coloured jellyfish behind glass. they move slowly, and it reminds you of how you wanted to touch the top of them to see if they were squishy as a child.

“can we take a selfie?” he asks you, pulling out his phone. you smile, nodding to him.

“of course.”

the two of you stand in front of the jellyfish, and he aims his phone high. he smiles brightly, while you take out a peace sign. the phone makes a loud click, and yeonjun seems satisfied with the picture when he goes to view it.

the both of you continue to walk, viewing each creature carefully. yeonjun is a bit more excited than you are, but you have to admit that it was kind of adorable.

“so,” you begin, “tell me about yourself.”

“hm,” he pauses for a moment, “well.. i’m studying music, and i’ve had a little crush on you for two weeks. a little embarrassing on my part, but worth it.”

“i see,” you nod your head in understanding, “and why do you have a crush on me?”

“you’re pretty,” he immediately blurts out. it makes you grow shy, but yeonjun continues on.

“i-i mean, that’s not just it! i know you are really smart and independent.. i admire that about you.”

you know that it was your friend who probably told him all this stuff, labelling you with such kind words. you wondered why yeonjun’s name hadn’t been brought up earlier. you’re also curious if yeonjun knew mark, but you decide not to ask.

mark wasn’t stopping you from having a good time tonight. you remind yourself that you don’t have to be loyal to someone who doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, but it doesn’t keep you from missing him.

“what about you, y/n? anything interesting you can tell me about yourself?”

you don’t think there’s much to know about you. you’re extremely straightforward and you don’t exactly have a lot of unique experiences to bring up.

“not really,” you reply, “i’m not as captivating as you make me out to be.”

the dark blue carpet below your feet doesn’t make much noise as you take steps throughout the establishment. the reflection of the water is bouncing off of the walls, small podiums with information about each marine animal was placed in front of almost all of the tanks.

yeonjun smiles in your direction, “i’m sure there’s a lot to you other than what meets the eye.”

the night continued on, full of laughter and storytelling from the both of you. yeonjun has a few close friends and dozens of hilarious events that occurred with them. his warm aura is amusing, and you find yourself enjoying the company he is able to offer you.

you two took a large amount of photos, mostly because yeonjun wanted to take pictures of everything. he demanded that you two bought matching red crab hats at the gift shop, and you happily complied. he didn’t fail to hand out constant compliments your way, which was also something you didn’t mind. you know that jaemin and him would probably make great friends.

“i think,” you pause, scrolling through the pictures that you took, “this one looks the best.” yeonjun is posing in front of a pair of sea otters cuddled close to each other, the excitement inside of him never leaving his eyes.

“but you aren’t in it,” he says, scrunching up his eyebrows to find another one. “what about this one?”

this time, it’s a picture of you two in front of a large, cylinder shaped fish tank. it’s full of a variety of different species, ranging from small sharks to turtles. yeonjun had asked one of the staff members to take it, and you can clearly remember her flushed face when he tapped her on the shoulder. you couldn’t blame her, yeonjun was insanely attractive.

“that’s a good one,” you nod in agreement, satisfied with his choice. on the way out, he quickly uploads the picture to instagram, with a cheesy pick up line as the caption. it doesn’t surprise you.

you’re sure that your makeup was probably ruined from the heat of when you two entered the tropical area, which was full of frogs and they even had a small natured area that was inhabited by birds. one had landed right on yeonjun’s shoulder, and he nearly scared it off by screaming.

you two hadn’t indulged into deep details of your life during the time you spent together, but you did learn a fair amount of information about each other. yeonjun told you he lived in the on campus dorms, and although he was extremely good looking, he had a hard time with girls.

the car ride back home is full of loud music, the kind of music that makes your stomach churn, full of nostalgia. he tells stories, you tell stories, and it’s quite nice overall. it was past nine in the evening, but the amount of cars on the road seemed the same as earlier in the night.

the bass of the music is so loud that it vibrates the side of the car, and two bottles of water are now placed in the once empty cup holders. yeonjun keeps his eyes on the road, but you can tell his main goal is to keep you entertained.

he parallel parks his car effortlessly in front of your building, running quickly to open the car door for you. you can pretty much tell that yeonjun was a raging romantic, or at least he gave you the vibe that he was.

“thank you,” you say in a small voice, making yeonjun wink at you. he hands you your bottled water, walking you to the front door. you pull out your keys, pressing the grey key fob to the sensor. he pulls the door open for you, following you inside.

“i should probably let you go now,” he smiles.

“tonight was really fun,” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, yeonjun’s eyes and nose crinkling with happiness.

“i’m glad you had fun, because i did.”

then it came again — the unbearable guilt that was sitting on your shoulders. mark’s face flashing inside your mind, reminding you that you weren’t doing this to get with yeonjun. you were doing it to get over your moronic crush on mark. you knew that if you were in yeonjun’s place right now, you would want the truth. after the date, it was the least yeonjun deserved.

“wait,” you blurt out to him, and he tilts his head.

“yes?”

“before you go,” you exhale. at this point, you’re chewing at your bottom lip intensely, scared to hurt such a kind boy. “i just— told a guy i liked him. i’m still fresh out of the rejection phase and i don’t know if i can really date right now. i know this is unfair to you and i never should have—“

“hey, hey,” he smiles comfortingly towards your direction. he places a hand on your shoulder, “i get it.”

“we can still be friends, yeah?”

you can’t hide the surprised look on your face, out of all the reactions you could have possibly earned, you certainly did not expect that one.

“how can you not be upset? no offense it was just.. a shit thing of me to do. you can be angry if you want to be.”

yeonjun shakes his head, “i mean, i wish i could have known sooner, but there’s really no big deal. you seem like a pretty cool friend, i really don’t mind.”

you’re shocked, that’s for sure, but grateful. you don’t think you’ve ever met someone as nice as him, and your situation was like a “wrong place, wrong time” kind of thing. it was too bad, really.

“i still think we should hang out more often,” he comments, and you agree.

“text me anytime,” you tell him, “i’m still really sorry.”

“i told you already, it’s fine. my ego is a bit hurt, but i’ll message you tomorrow or something. i wouldn’t mind hanging out as friends.”

he waves goodbye happily, still maintaining the same level of content that he held during the date. you still feel a bit of remorse in your being, and you hope that the person who ends up with yeonjun doesn’t take advantage of him. with intentions as good as himself, you know that it’s easy to get corrupted.

your feet ache a bit, the elevator ride up slower than you remember. your socks are nearly slipping off of your feet into your white converse, making you shift awkwardly as the bright elevator light flickers.

when you finally reach the tenth floor, you sigh in relief. you exit the elevator quietly, careful to not make any noise. when you’re about to insert your keys into the lock, you hear another door click open.

your head turns, eyes landing on those of mark lee’s. he’s frozen, staring at your dressed up figure. there are goosebumps formed upon your legs, and you curse yourself for choosing a dress instead of pants. he clears his throat, eyes unable to tear off of you.

“you’re home,” he states the obvious. you wish you just had opened the door and walked in, instead of standing there while bearing through an awkward, unwanted conversation.

“sorry, i don’t know if you saw my texts but i knocked earlier and jaemin said you were out.”

you purse your lips, your jaw clenched. “yeah, i went to go hang out with a friend.” you don’t owe him a story, nor did you owe him an explanation. you still tell him though, and you’re unsure as to why.

“i know,” he inhales deeply, his chest rising. he’s no longer in his outfit from earlier, instead he’s in a matching set of grey pajamas. “yeonjun posted a picture of you together.”

“you know him?” you question, but you already feel like you know the answer.

“we have music composition together, i didn’t know you two knew each other,” he admits, making you bite the inside of your cheek. you were debating on continuing the conversation or just going inside, but something makes you want to stay, keeping your feet planted. of course mark knew who yeonjun was, that was just your luck.

“it was a date,” the words fall out of your mouth faster than they register in your brain. it’s like you’re trying to show off, a choice you were not proud of, but you still let it happen.

“o-oh,” he stutters out, caught off guard, like always. “i didn’t know you two were that close.” half of you is proud of your choosing of words, the other half is questioning why the hell you were still here. you finally resume unlocking your front door, while you assume that mark can’t seem to grasp the fact that you went on a date.

you’re halfway through the door, until mark’s voice pipes up again.

“boyfriend?”

you stop in your tracks, carefully selecting your next words before shutting the door. it’s not much, but you result in a simple,

“no.”

—

mark doesn’t send you a good morning text the following day.

all you are left with is the texts from last night, when you were out with yeonjun. they ranged from “wyd?” to “wanna get food with me?”, and although you were technically evading his company, you felt a little bad. you couldn’t forget mark’s shocked face from yesterday, his eyes like a deer caught in the headlights.

but, you did receive texts from yeonjun. he wasn’t lying when he said he would be contacting you the next day. you had slept twelve hours, waking up at noon to see a few messages from the tall black haired boy.

he had spammed you, insisting that you do something to get to know each other better. you stretched your arms and legs, not extremely eager to get out of bed on one of your free days, but it was yeonjun. the guy you had kind of lead on, if you could even call it that.

your eyelids still have a lingering heaviness to them when yeonjun greets you, and you desperately wanted coffee. your coffee addiction may not be as bad as jaemin’s, but you are sure that you would not survive without it.

yeonjun’s presence changes the energy in the room, lighting it up like a spark. his loud voice and silly demeanour is what catches the attention of many, almost making you want to hang your head low from second hand embarrassment. you knew that the restaurant you two sat in was probably silent before the both of you came in.

it’s funny, you think, about how fun it was to be around yeonjun (even though you two had literally just met). you decide that he’s probably the type of guy who does this a lot, clicking with everyone he met. you have to say it’s an admirable trait to possess, and with a face like his, it will get him places.

“what do you feel like ordering?” he asks, staring down at the menu. you drag your fingers along the plastic covering, humming. the ice in yeonjun’s glass cup clinks as he takes a sip, raising an eyebrow at you.

“i’ve never been here before,” you say, your tongue poking at the flesh on the inside of your cheek, “but the house special looks really good.”

you take a hold of your own glass, sipping down on the cold water. it seems even colder since you had a piece of mint gum before it.

“oh!” his eyes light up almost immediately, “mark knows how to make that, it’s really good, he made it for a potluck once.”

you nearly choke on your water, hovering your hand over your mouth. “mark? why are you bringing up mark?”

“aren’t you two neighbours? he said you two were pretty close,” he replies back casually. you’re a little confused, to say the least. why would mark and yeonjun be talking about you? how do you even come up in a conversation?

“i mean, yeah i guess. why was he talking to you about me?”

“last night after i dropped you off, he asked me if we were seeing each other. of course i said no, but he told me all about you two living next to each other and that you guys are like, best buds.”

you hold back a sarcastic laugh, “did he now?”

yeonjun nods, taking your menu and stacking it on top of his own. he places them to the side for the server to take. “why? is something going on between you two or..”

you watch as yeonjun realizes what you meant, and you have to admit that he’s a fast learner. his lips form into the shape of an ‘o’, then he purses them awkwardly.

“it was him..”

“mhm.”

there’s something in you that just makes you so upset for falling for mark. it makes you disappointed in yourself, only because you two started getting to know each other a month back. people say you can’t control how you feel or who you like, but that’s why it bothers you so much. it’s because you aren’t in control.

“he sounded really protective of you,” yeonjun drops the comment casually, waving over a waitress. you don’t like the way your heart beats faster when thinking of mark being protective. your current thoughts seem absurd in your opinion, the feeling of the faint tug of your heartstrings rising in your chest.

“he said you meant a lot to him, not sure if that changes anything..”

it doesn’t, but it’s nice to hear. there’s no change of heart because you know how mark means that, in a friendly way. mark catching you and yeonjun on a date wasn’t going to change that, no matter how much you desperately wanted it to.

yeonjun orders the food with a friendly expression resting on his face. the ring of the restaurant’s delivery tablet makes you flinch, the sound louder than the chattering of other civilians. it’s cloudy outside, but not raining. the clouds are a light grey, yet it’s still bright outside; the type of bright that when you look up at the sky, it strains your eyes. the waitress leaves with your menus in hand, your eyes glued to a spot on the wall as you zone out.

you used to be capable of containing your emotions, but you weren’t as confident in that ability anymore. you’re sure mark is the culprit, but you don’t think you should keep blaming mark for every single change in you. it’s normal for people’s personalities to adjust and alter, but you felt like this change was too drastic for your liking.

you begin to overthink why mark didn’t text you that morning. the reasonable cause would most likely be that it was obvious you didn’t want to speak to him, and that he was just giving you your space, but you keep going back to a different thought. there’s something that makes you wonder if it was because of what happened last night. it’s a slim chance, but you can’t help but factor that into the situation.

yeonjun talks throughout the meal as your mind wanders elsewhere. the food smells extraordinary, filling your nostrils and making your mouth water, and you’re able to down it quickly. you swear that the food is devoured as soon as it was placed on the table.

“what do you like about mark?”

the question that pops out of yeonjun’s mouth baffles you. it’s not everyday you ask a person you barely know why they like who they like. it’s different, to say the least. something you don’t mind answering but also something you’re not sure if you’re completely comfortable with.

you’re fidgeting your fingers under the table, heart racing just thinking of him. you can’t put your finger on why, it just happens. it’s something you’re also not very used to.

you don’t have to think hard about it, mark is a lovable person. you don’t think there’s anything you dislike about mark, or at least you can’t think of anything on the spot.

“he cares,” you start, “but not just the normal friend way, if that makes sense? he’s the type of guy who would make a copy of your house key because he knows that you lose it all the time. he tries his best to pay attention to the little details about a person, and never pushes past their comfort zone.”

you think you could talk about mark for ten minutes straight, but you save yeonjun the time and you save yourself the embarrassment. yeonjun nods, processing the words in his brain as he slowly leans back.

“why do you ask?” you finally question him.

“it’s always fun to hear why a person is interested in another,” he replies in a simple, casual manner. “gets a person excited about what they’re talking about.”

he’s not wrong — you can always see the light in someone’s eyes when they talk about things they’re interested in. whether it’s an activity or a person, their emotions stay the same.

“i also needed to know about my competition,” he winks playfully, making you shake your head and smile. if only you had met yeonjun first, you could have happily been in a relationship. but no, you had to meet an idiot who didn’t know the difference between a sweatshirt and a hoodie until you explained it to him.

if only you had met anybody else first.

—

the day passes by quickly, yeonjun’s entire aura making it fun. the hours tick by without you even noticing, and before you know it, yeonjun had dropped you off at home. he waves you goodbye with a sweet grin on his face, his pearly whites flashing and his skin glistening in the sun.

you bid your goodbyes with content, your body aching to just go lie down on your own comfy mattress. jaemin’s snicker is obvious when you enter the house, which is followed by the roll of your eyes. your energy feels like it was drained from your body, you craved nothing more than a three hour nap right now.

your eyelids are heavy, the legs holding you up feeling shaky. you couldn’t help but wonder what mark was doing, it was a bad habit that you just couldn’t quite get rid of. would he try to talk to you today? are you finally getting the space you needed? did you really want that space?

the never-ending questions swirl around in your mind, creating a lingering pain that makes your eyes squint. instead of going to your room, you settle on the couch, plopping down with a groan of satisfaction.

“stop going on dates, i’m gonna lose my best friend,” jaemin whines in an annoying, high pitched voice from the dining table. you stare at the ceiling, the sunlight seeping through the windows.

“just because i hang out with a guy doesn’t mean we are dating,” you remark, almost in a snappy tone.

“yeah totally, not like you went on a date with him last night either,” he responds sarcastically, highlighting words in his textbook at the same time.

“it was, but this one wasn’t,” you sigh, “told him i wasn’t ready for that stuff.”

“why? you two would be like an it couple.”

you make a disgusted look on your face from jaemin’s choice of words, staring over at him. “first of all, no. second of all, i just got rejected by mark! not like a few fish and a cute guy can change that.”

“what about binging kdramas and a cute guy who’s name starts with j and ends with aemin?”

“please, for the love of god, never say that again.”

jaemin giggles in his seat, “by the way, could you throw out the garbage?”

you glare at him. he’s looking down at his books, but you know that he can feel your cold eyes on him. “why can’t you do it?”

“i’m lazy.”

you agree to take out the waste, but not without a little fight before it. you had grumbled and complained, but figured it wouldn’t change much. you had rolled your eyes and got up, jaemin watching you with a shit eating grin on his face while you carried the garbage out of your apartment.

jaemin and you shared the housework, maybe not evenly but the both of you still had chores to do around the house. sometimes, it irritates you, but that annoyance is usually long forgotten when jaemin cooks a big meal at night. you do most of the cleaning, while he makes up for it by creating food dishes and doing laundry (sometimes).

you figure your misfortune is just about right when you spot mark, who is also holding a bag full of recycling items that needs to be brought down to the garbage room. you swallow harshly, holding your door open before deciding that you should just wait.

“hi,” mark says, spotting you with ease. you close your eyes in frustration, turning back around to smile awkwardly at him.

“hey again.”

you despised this. the unpleasant greetings and tension filled rooms, they certainly did not fit your taste at all. you’re reminded of why you didn’t want to tell mark you liked him, you didn’t want this to happen. you two had been in a good place before, this felt like you were going backwards instead of forwards.

your eyes are weirdly darting around the room, avoiding his gaze at all cost.

“sorry i didn’t text you this morning.. i completely forgot.”

you don’t know why he’s telling you this in the first place, you were the one who wanted space, and you would have to be stupid to not realize that. you guess that you overestimated him.

you’re pretty much silent for the entire exchange, waiting for him to just go and press the button to the elevator so you could go back inside.

“weird we only see each other in the hallway nowadays,” he fills the silence, you just smile and nod. you’re unsure of what to say, you never did well in situations similar to this one. you usually made a snarky remark or just ignored them.

“do you want to hang out or something?” out of all the things mark lee could ask, you were certain that was one of the stupidest things he could think of.

“no, thanks,” you reply, pursing your lips. the exchange of looks you send each other makes your heart pound. he appears hurt, possibly offended, while you wait for the conversation to be over.

the hum of the red exit sign is the only thing you can hear, but only for a small moment in time. you know there’s nothing you can gain from these small interactions, and you’re not expecting your cold attitude to result in the reciprocation of feelings. pushing him away was the best thing you could do for yourself, at least until your own emotions die down.

“will we ever go back to normal?”

you found yourself constantly asking that question as well. along with “how long will it take us to recover?” the unfortunate thing was, you had no idea. you don’t know if mark would look at you the same, would he start seeing you as the girl who had a crush on him, or would he continue to see you as his friend, y/n?

“this is normal,” the lie is painfully obvious, but you weren’t in the mood to have a deep conversation with mark lee. especially with a black garbage bag in your hand, smelling of food stained wrappers and rotten bananas. you don’t know how much time you have wasted, standing outside of your front door hoping that no unknown liquid is seeping onto the carpeted floor from the bag.

“nothing about this is ordinary,” he sighs, “it’s only been a few days, but i’m always wondering when you’ll be able to stand staying in the same room as me for more than five minutes.”

“that’s not for you to determine.”

the contrast of your day spent with yeonjun and your bump in with mark was ever so different, a type of difference that you did not enjoy. your head and heart start to pound a little harder, louder as well. you always knew that mark and you had a habit of sitting in silence for a little bit, but it was usually comforting. this silence made you anxious for what was to come.

you assume that mark had given up on trying to reason with you, or he had stopped trying to make you feel better, judging by his lack of volume. his eyes are glued to your own, waiting for a move to be made. you’re frozen, your face absent of emotion as you perform your best to maintain calm.

“i’m sorry.”

his voice is soft, barely a whisper, and it makes you feel awful. mark was probably blaming himself for not liking you back. he was just that type of guy, and you knew that. the thought eats away at you, your grip on the garbage bag tightening. your back straightens, an uneven breath flowing out of your nose.

it’s not his fault, and you know it. he can’t help who he likes, and neither could you. you wished you could point fingers at someone for your current state of events, mark, yourself, anyone. the truth was, you couldn’t. it was just bad timing, and bad luck.

“it’s okay,” you say quietly. your face quickly shifts into one full of remorse, but you felt too embarrassed to say anything more.

“you going to throw out that garbage?” he asks, too casually for the current situation. he points towards the bag of trash, and you look down at it.

“another time,” you smile softly, making him frown in disappointment. you assume that maybe he had thought of this as your turning point, maybe he expected everything to return back to the way it was. you just couldn’t, no matter how much you wanted to.

you turn around, entering your house again. your back pressed against the door, you stare up at the ceiling. the garbage bag drops to the ground with a large thump, a hand covering your mouth to muffle a quiet cry.

you have never cried about feelings not being mutual, but you realize that there were many things you have not done before mark appeared in your life.

maybe your life was like a love story, just not the ones written in your typical romance novels. it felt like a much more angsty, stomach churning, and confusing one. not something you necessarily liked, but it couldn’t be changed.

you bury your face in your hands, stress overcoming you. you then pick up the garbage bag again, hoping mark would be gone by now as you reach to open the door.

to your surprise, mark falls back first into your floor, a bag full of recyclables still being held in his hand. his face is a bright red, stumbling to dust off his legs as he jumps up.

“sorry, i um — i had my back against your door and—“

“you can go now.”

“oh my god, thank you.”

—

the last thing you wanted to do was go on a double date with people you barely knew, roaming around a crowded night market while the smell of overpriced food filled your nose. unfortunately, that is exactly where you found yourself the next night.

yeonjun had texted you in the morning, practically begging you to be his date for a night. he insisted it was platonic, only because he had bragged to his friends that he had gone on a date with “the y/n” (as they called you). funny enough, they hadn’t believed him, so he ended up spamming your phone at 10 am to accompany him and his friends.

you could barely find your own personal space at the night market. it was flooded with noisy people, the setting sun shining onto their skin. you stuck closely to yeonjun, as well as his friends eunji and woohyun.

honestly, you had a feeling that the only reason you came was because you felt as if you owed it to yeonjun. yes, you enjoyed his company, but not enough to make you want to go on a double date with him and some strangers.

“what do you think of this, y/n?” yeonjun turns to you, holding a pair of pink heart sunglasses in his left hand, and a pair of light blue ones in the right. you look at him, eyeing both items.

“weren’t the frog hats enough?”

he pouts, “but these would suit us so well! don’t you think?”

“i don’t think—“

before you can finish your sentence, he’s pushing the pink shades onto your face with no warning. he nearly pokes you in the eye, but it doesn’t seem like he notices. he looks oddly proud of himself, leaning back to see how the glasses frame your face.

“perfect!” he exclaims, clasping his hands together. he puts the other pair of sunglasses on his own face, then links arms with you. he pulls out his phone, raising it to take a picture with you. he also takes it without saying anything, getting the full “candid” effect as you were in the middle of eyeing the food of people passing by.

“i’m buying these,” he says, taking both of the glasses into his hands. you have no time to protest as he darts towards the cash register, leaving you with his two friends that you barely talked to all night.

although everything here fit your aesthetically pleasing mental list, you couldn’t lie about the fact that it was stupidly overpriced. you weren’t exactly dying to spend all your money, so you refrained from buying too much. it was times like this that made you ask yourself why you quit your job as a retail worker.

you really only talked to yeonjun here, you sparked up small talk with eunji and woohyun, but they seemed like they were too focused on each other to care.

you’re finally given something to do when your phone buzzes in your back pocket, making you flinch. you reach to grab it, reading the first notification that appears on the screen.

mark [8:39pm] you’re at the night market with yeonjun?

of course yeonjun would post about you two tonight. you learned that he really liked to document the things he does, and although you didn’t criticize him for it, it was a pain in the ass when the picture included you. you would either gain constant teasing from jaemin, or random messages from the one and only, mark lee.

you grit your teeth together, staring at the notification on the screen.

you [8:40pm] what’s it to you?

you ask yourself if you were being too harsh on him, and you are sure that your friends would tell you that you were being too hard on mark. you’re staring at your screen, anticipating a response. the noise around you gives you a headache, hearing almost everyone’s conversations. your heart is beating uncontrollably fast, thumbs shakily hovering over your screen.

“y/n~” yeonjun chimes in a sing song voice, happily handing you the pair of sunglasses. his eyes flicker from your phone, to your unamused and obviously irritated face.

“who are you texting?” he questions, eyes squinting.

“no one,” you reply as casually as possible, about to put your phone away. yeonjun is quick to snatch it from your hands, reading the words on the screen.

“you’re kind of invading my privacy—”

“mark is here too.”

shit. you swear you’ve been seeing mark way more ever since you decided to avoid his presence, almost like fate wanted to see you suffer from your terrible excuse of a love life.

“this is your chance y/n,” yeonjun smiles, placing the phone in your hand.

“chance for what?”

“maybe rekindle your friendship? you seem so tense when his name is mentioned— you told me about the situation, you two could be friends again.”

you nearly snicker at the statement. you weren’t even sure if you were ready, so how could anyone else state their opinion on it? you look back at your phone, and yeonjun was right.

mark [8:41 pm] i’m here too lol

at this point, you just know that fate is deliberately fucking with you. running away from problems was never your style of dealing with things, but then again, this was your first time falling for someone like mark. god — you were just praying that you wouldn’t randomly bump into him, but thinking about the way you two met, you felt like your chances of seeing him were extremely high.

your anxiety starts overcoming you as you whip your head around, making sure that mark wasn’t anywhere near you. odd enough, as much as you dreaded running into him, another part of you wanted to see his face. it may sound cliché, but it felt like your heart wanted him to come up to you and just give you a hug.

you just craved normality again; normality that mark stripped from you.

“i can’t be here,” you breathe out, tears welling up in your eyes. the built up, overwhelming tension the past few days was finally catching up to you. you sucked in your bottom lip — you were finally breaking.

“hey, hey, y/n, you’re going to be okay,” yeonjun stands in front of you, engulfing you into an embrace. you bring your arms under his armpits, holding onto his shoulders. you were so tired of feeling this way, that sense of hopelessness. you hadn’t ever felt this way about a person, and you were scared that you wouldn’t be able to get over him.

“it’s just mark, what’s the worst that could happen?” yeonjun says in a comforting tone.

“anything could happen,” you retorted, sniffling into his shirt. yeonjun uses his hand to lightly stroke your hair. the thought that yeonjun was the only person who has really seen your stoic facade crumble makes you want to laugh. you barely knew him, and here he was, trying to seize the amount of nervousness coursing through your veins.

you didn’t know how to stop this constant state of hurt and self pity, you also didn’t know when this avoiding of mark would end.

“y/n,” a voice breathes out, quiet, but loud enough for you to hear. you already know who is standing behind you, which makes you just want to act like you heard nothing. yeonjun was too busy looking at the other accessories that lined the small carts to even notice. you’re unsure if yeonjun was purposely trying to look busy, or if he was genuinely just interested in the pretty jewelry. either way, you couldn’t turn to yeonjun for help.

there’s a small nervous tingle that forms in your chest, which runs through to your fingers. you swallow your pride, turning around. there, mark lee stood in all his glory, holding bags in both hands.

“hi,” you spew out awkwardly, looking around while smiling uncomfortably.

“oh,” he says, eyes flashing to yeonjun, then back to you, “i’m sorry if i’m interrupting something.”

almost right on time, yeonjun whips his head back on with a gentle smile on his face, “nope! not interrupting anything. i’ll be right back.”

you made an internal reminder to yourself to scold yeonjun the next time you got the chance. in the meantime, you were stuck with mark, with a huge crowd surrounding the two of you. he was so close to you, just staring with his bottom lip tucked in. you were unsure of what to do, whether to leave or to stay, to say something or be quiet, you were just fighting a battle with your own mind.

“i thought you two weren’t dating?” mark lets out.

“we aren’t.”

“but you spend so much—”

“what are you doing, mark?” you question, but in a rhetorical way. you’re irritated, no, beyond irritated. “you rejected me. you can’t just show up wherever i go and ask if i’m dating someone, do you understand how messed up that is? you can’t keep putting ideas in my head, i’m not ready to open up to you again. why can’t you see that?”

mark is silent throughout your entire rant, possibly taken aback, but he should have seen this coming anyway.

“my dating life does not concern you, and i already mentioned that yeonjun is not my boyfriend. why do you care so much?”

at this point, you’re sure you’re fuming. you were so frustrated you swore you could feel the tears building up in your eyes, but you ignored it. you were just glad that the crowd was loud enough for your voice to be easily unnoticed, only for mark to hear. you can see his eyes softening as your breath was becoming heavier, your chest visibly growing and shaking.

“i’m so sorry,” he says again. you’re sick of that phrase, hearing it so often made you forget the meaning.

“if you were sorry you would leave me alone,” you nearly cried. you were done with trying to maintain some sort of friendship with mark, he just didn’t get it. you were so tired of the same routine.

“everyday you text me, every time i see you, is a reminder that this is all we can ever be. it may not be your intention, but you have to understand that it hurts me.”

the guilt in mark’s eyes start becoming more evident, his mouth opens, but no noise comes out. he’s dumbstruck, tears forming in your eyes. he takes a step towards you, and you take a step back. he keeps walking forward, though. he’s close enough so that you can see the details of his skin, and your heart pounds once again.

he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a hug. you try to push away, but he doesn’t let go. “i’m sorry,” he repeats again, burying his head into your shoulder.

“you can’t keep saying that,” your tears finally begin to fall as you can’t do anything but melt in his arms. your eyes continue to pour out onto his bright blue hoodie while he holds you close.

“it’s okay,” he comforts you, which reminds you of why you were crying in the first place. you harshly shove him off, forgetting about the other people around you.

“it’s not okay! you can’t just do that–”

“yoojung asked me out.”

your mouth parts slightly as you stand frozen. you didn’t know if it was possible for your heart to break twice, but if it was, then yours just did. you muster a tightlipped pity smile.

“oh,” you manage to say, dropping your hands. “i-i’m happy for you..”

is this what life was meant to be for you? an endless cycle of heartbreak? were you just never meant to have anyone? you don’t know why you’re so devastated, you knew this would happen. she was just so beautiful and so confident in herself, and mark was mark. he was the typical boy next door (literally). you felt as if all the energy had been drained out of you as you stared at him.

“i said no.”

you expected yourself to be happy in this moment, but there was so much confusion lacing your thoughts.

“why?”

“because-”

“no.” you stop him, “you’re not about to tell me you said no because of me. you can’t just show up and tell me you said no to yoojung because you like me. i won’t let you. i did not cry myself to sleep several nights for you to come back to me and say something like that. my feelings aren’t a game, mark. and my love life isn’t a book.”

“i would do anything to make it up to someone like you,” he puts his soft hand onto your cheek, as he searches your eyes for any sign of forgiveness.

god, you hate to admit that this is what you’ve wanted this entire time. for your entire time apart, you just wanted him to do exactly this. you try your best to fight it off though, only because of how embarrassed you were.

“y-you can’t.”

shit. you’re stuttering.

“i’m serious, y/n,” this time, mark puts both hands on either sides of your face.

“i know i’m confusing you right now, i-i know that i put you through so much trying to figure out my own feelings. it wasn’t fair of me! you deserve the best, really.. i thought about it ever since you told me. it messed me up so bad. i couldn’t get you out of my head, i didn’t know if it was because i missed you as a friend o-or there was more to it..”

“stop saying that! you’ve had feelings for yoojung for ages. how can that just go away?”

mark sighs, dropping his hands. “i don’t know, dude. maybe after i started talking to you more and more, my feelings for her eventually just became an infatuation. all i know is when she wanted to be more than friends, i knew that i didn’t want that.”

at this point, you’re more than confused. you’re completely baffled.

“it sounds stupid. i am stupid. i just don’t know how to tell you this, i don’t want to be with her. i want to just be with you, whether or not if it’s as friends again or.. you know. if you don’t see me like that anymore, i completely understand and i’ll try to get over how i feel. but then again, just say the word and i’ll never talk to you again. i promise you.”

there’s an annoying amount of feelings clouding your brain, the grip that mark had on your heart was beginning to ache a little more as the words fell off his lips. in the end, you spent days hurting because of him, and you hate to say that it was never his fault, because that’s the truth.

“you know i don’t want that,” you say quietly.

his eyes widen, “really?”

“i’ve been feeling terrible lately because of our situation, but whether we’re in a relationship or not, the time i spent with you was the most fun i’ve ever had. but you have to understand that it’s taken a huge toll on my feelings.”

he goes quiet again, taking your hand into his. “do you think you would want to be in a relationship with me?”

there it is. what you have been wanting to hear for so long, when he finally says it, you can feel your heart bounce.

you bring your lips to his cheek, giving it a small peck. you’re not sure if that was the right move at the moment, but you’re glad that his lips curve into a cute grin while a tint of pink covers his cheeks.

“i’m kind of new to this.. so was that a yes?” he asks, earning a small giggle from you.

“i don’t know, i mean if you’re asking me to be your girlfriend, then it’s a yes.”

“thank god,” he lets out, pulling you into a warm hug. “i don’t know what my life would be without you. and i swear, i won’t hurt you like that again. i’m sorry i took so long to figure things out, i just didn’t want to mess you up even more.”

his arms are wrapped around your waist, almost like he’s afraid to let you go. the business of the night market thankfully does not ruin your moment, but enhances it. he pulls away but still keeps his arms around you, looking into your eyes.

“can i kiss you?” he sounds so nervously cute, you don’t answer him. all you do is initiate it, leaning in to press your lips onto his own.

it’s relieving, being able to do this years after your first kiss. his lips still taste of watermelon flavoured chapstick as both of your eyes flutter closed. the kiss is soft, it pretty much fit everything you had been dreaming of ever since you started liking mark.

you both pull away, looking like the happiest people ever.

“hm, you still use the same chapstick?” mark says as the mood continues to lighten.

“i could ask you the same thing.”

“fair enough.”

when you pull away from each other to stand side by side, he doesn’t stop holding your hand. he keeps them interlocked, his thumb stroking the back of your palm.

“would it be weird if we called this a date?” he says into your ear.

“first date and first kiss in one night? you’re feeling confident today, what did you do to the real mark lee?” you jokingly reply, the tears from earlier beginning to dry.

“oh shit you’re right.. is this too fast?”

the awkward mark returns faster than he left, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“no stupid, of course we can call this a date.”

he sighs in relief, pressing a kiss to your temple.

yeonjun comes back with wide eyes and an open mouth, staring directly at you two. “what the hell did i miss?”

you shrug your arms, “not that much.”

the rest of the night is fun filled shopping, matching rings, and delicious food. as soon as the photos were uploaded, jaemin was quick to call you and scream in your ear about how happy he was for you, and how he knew in the end that everything would work out.

so, yes, you do not think your life is like a romantic novel. it’s quite the opposite, actually, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. in spite of the hurt, you thought it was all worth it, and mark does not hesitate to agree with that statement.

#mark #mark lee #mark nct #mark angst #mark fluff #mark lee angst #mark lee fluff #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct angst #nct fluff #jaemin #na jaemin #yeonjun #choi yeonjun #mark imagine #mark lee imagine #nct imagine

1K notes · View notes