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lo1k-diamonds · 2 months

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Call You Mine💜 Chapter 1

PAIRING: idol!Yoongi x OC

SUMMARY: Freya despises everything soulmate-related, but one day her soulmate shows out of nowhere and turns everything upside down.

"Why didn’t you reach out to me?" Her eyes watered in response to his words and he was certain. "You knew who I was, how I was suffering." It pained him to say so, but he knew it was true. It had to be a conscious decision. And he had to know why.

A slowburn rejection soulmate story to make you fall in love with Min Yoongi (again).

WORD COUNT: 7.4k (Total: 297k)

GENRE: Rejection, Soulmate AU, s2l

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: angst, huge ass story that is an emotional rollercoaster, rejection (tho it has a happy ending), OC has a strong personality and flaws (all my characters do really), desperation, explicit sexual content, semipublic I guess?, riding, consensual but there's conflict, soulmate bond is inescapable and shit happens

(You can also read it on AO3, originally posted in December 2022)

A.N. I have this poll I've been meaning to do about my soulmate series and to do so, I thought I should probably introduce those stories first 😅😋Yoongi's story is the third of the Soul Palette Series (but the one that started it all). Again, it is a realistic rejection soulmate story because I wanted a story where the female character doesn't lose her backbone as soon as [insert soulmate] shows in the picture/has sex. Lots of angst and fighting until the stars align ;)

"Poetry, music, a painting, they don’t save the world. But they save the minute. And that is enough.” Matilde Campilho

What were the odds?

“Freya, are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, I am,” she answered nonchalantly, looking out through the car window.

Her mood soured with the conversation and the woman steering the wheel sighed. “Whenever the subject of soulmates gets brought up you just become…” Freya gave her an ice-cold look from the shotgun seat. That made the woman mad, “Insufferable.”

Freya smirked through her pain and looked away again.

The woman sighed again, “We’ve been friends for almost nine years. Don’t you think I know you by now?”

Freya placed her elbow on the car door, supporting her chin on her hand. Her fingers covered her mouth strategically. She knew the lecture that was about to happen, Lidia never missed a chance to try and change her mind about this topic. She didn’t have the heart or energy to fight it anymore.

“Soulmates are each other's halves,” she started and Freya just clenched her jaw. “You were born with one, two parts of a whole.” Freya couldn’t have heard it or learned it better if she was in primary school. Sarcastic thoughts like that would flood her every time Lidia pulled that sermon on her. “Just because barely half the population finds theirs, does not mean yours isn’t out there.”

“Sure, he might be out there, but I wish to be like the other half of the population. You know, the one that was able to live happily by being with the people they chose to be with,” Freya said with a hint of victory.

“Fair, but it doesn’t diminish the fact that their soulmates are still out there. They might have never met, but that doesn’t mean one should just ignore it or—”

“I’m not ignoring it,” Freya cut, annoyed. “I told you, I never met that person. Why would I lie!”

“I don’t know, maybe because you hate the idea of soulmates so much!” Lidia yelled back, fortunately without taking her eyes out of the traffic. Motorcycles were insane, trying to get in between the moving cars to get ahead. Freya was happy it was Lidia driving them to the venue. Lidia took a deep breath, “If something happened to him, you know you can tell me…”

Freya sighed, feeling stuck in the same loop, “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never met him.”

She hoped that would be the end of it, for now at least. Lidia seemed fixated on the idea that she was lying about her soulmate, that something tragic had happened, or that she was avoiding the person. Which didn’t make any sense according to her own rules, for fuck’s sake! Wouldn’t she be sick and whatnot if that was the case?

“Fine,” Lidia relented, as she always did when confronted with Freya's bitterness. “I would just like you to be open-minded when you do.”

Freya bit her tongue to hold back her remark and let the car fall into silence. She hated that topic and now it was stuck in her mind. She had never met that person and she never wanted to. She had no open-mindedness to offer because she would never be okay with it. And she wished she could just yell it out until it got through Lidia’s thick sand castles and baby cupids and stupid pink heartshaped butterflies: meeting your soulmate was terrible.

Sure they were supposed to be your other half, but they could literally be on the other side of the world. With different cultures and upbringings, you could be paired with a terrorist, misogynist, psychopath, the list went on. Who was it to say that person would actually fit your personality and values? Absolutely nothing, as history showed. Quite frankly, the fifty percent of the populace that never met them were the lucky ones. Never meeting them meant never experiencing withdrawals of absence. Never bending or nullifying your beliefs and values for the sake of someone else that, though unique, was probably not even the best match for you.

Because let’s face it: though science had proven its existence, who was to say the bond meant the same to everyone, or that it should be the same? For scientists, it was perceived more as an absolute physical attraction that would lead to the best procreation. That had nothing to do with love, with fated partners, or whatever else was mediatized. It all looked more like a romanticized publicity trope used to sell way more chocolates, flowers, and cards than Valentine’s Day. Or to make people feel misfitted and incomplete until they did find that person, instigating them to consume goods, programs, matchmaking events, anything that could speed that along. Why should anyone live with the unrelenting weight of not having met someone they never needed? That could ruin them, their lives? It was all terrible!

She would have known if she had met that person. Though she in general avoided physical contact, the mere presence of the other person was supposed to be enough for the both of them to know. She of course had no idea what it would feel like, soulbonds were also reported with different intensities for different people, but she was sure she’d know if that fateful moment ever occurred. Moreover, she would feel the withdrawal. Though tolerable to some, especially with medication, it would be impossible not to feel anything. She knew that’s how it would always play out: even if she avoided them and ran through the nearest exit as soon as she felt the bond, the need would hunt her, both of them, for as long as they lived. That was something she was willing to endure, though she honestly hoped she never had to. If she never met him, she’d never have to. So, she wished she never would. Simple.

Freya glanced at Lidia, who was now pulling over the security of the event and showing them her badge. Lidia couldn’t possibly understand her standpoint, and as much as they would fight about it, Freya wasn’t interested in shattering her dreams. If Lidia could one day live happily ever after with her fated mate and actually be happy, Freya would gladly support her. She just couldn’t be deluded by the idea like Lidia.

Their nine years of friendship were very precious to Freya. Though the focus on her career had led her astray from many of her friendships, Lidia always stuck by her. She was one of her dearest friends. She would always call and catch up on her, whether Freya was at a fashion runway, strike, or in a warzone. Maybe that was why Lidia was the only person she ever gave two cents to in regard to soulbonding. Everyone else was free to be their own idiot, but Lidia was her idiot. Freya didn’t want to see her get hurt. Lidia felt the exact same way, she knew that. It was the only reason they fought about it in the first place.

Lidia parked the car in the underground parking lot and Freya was forced to move. They were still by the entrance of the arena, the lights from the streets made their way to where they were. Lidia opened the trunk and Freya got her material ready. There was noise in the air and she kept trying to figure out what it was.

Lidia closed the trunk when Freya gave the nod and Freya’s blue eyes widened in shock. Beyond the entrance, behind the security barrier, there was a sea of people. People chanting, jumping, and screaming.

Lidia was smirking at the sight, “Not your typical warzone, is it?”

Freya pulled her camera that was hanging on her chest to her face, regulating the lens to focus on them. They were mostly girls shouting, around their twenties, some if that. They had colorful banners with letters stamped on them and sticks with a ball that seemed to shine.

Click.

She looked briefly at the photo on the view screen, then up again at them. She was surprised.

“No, but similar. What could it be that makes them act like that?”

Lidia was passing her her media badge to access the event.

“Boys.”

He woke up from his nap, dazed. He kept having the same dream. He had had it for a while and in the beginning, he couldn’t remember it properly. Now, he could. No faces or characteristics, but he knew it was always the same person he dreamt of. When he told it to the others, they thought it had to be his soulmate and he had found the idea hilarious at first, that was impossible. But then, with the years, he started wondering. Was it that far-fetched that there was a connection between them if they were two pieces of the same soul? Maybe their pieces had an incredible bond and that was why he could dream of her.

Her. He couldn’t remember much, but he did remember that, which brought more weight to the possibility of her being his soulmate since soulmates were always of the opposite sex. For him, love or a partner was always about the connection, the person, not about their appearance or gender. He never felt like he had a gender preference because he would always look at personality first, but his soulmate would be female and he was okay with it. Though honestly, despite dreaming of her occasionally, he couldn’t conceive a relationship — he hadn’t had a serious one in almost ten years.

Life made it that way, and he accepted it. His career had taken off in a way he had dreamed and actually achieved. He was surrounded by amazing people, professionals, friends, and family alike. He had his fans, who supported him and allowed him to live every single one of his dreams, from making music, to not worrying about money, to being able to support his family comfortably. Did he ever wonder if loneliness was a price to pay for it all? Yes. Did he think it was? No. He wasn’t looking for a relationship, or his soulmate. They would show in due time. He was living, bit by bit, in tranquility.

He of course thought about what would happen if he met her. Seokjin and Hoseok had found theirs and they were exceedingly happy. They gave all others the hope of a lifetime of happiness and fulfillment, though none were particularly searching for it. ARMYs didn't know about their discovery, they had decided it that way. Not even necessarily because of the fans, but because of the sasaengs and paparazzi. The lack of privacy would be overwhelming and the men didn't wish to ruin their soulmates' lives.

If anyone had to choose who appeared the least interested in the whole soulmate trope it would probably be him. Yoongi was known for many things, he was aware, and the top included being snarky, lazy, and perfectionist. Some probably saw him as the most cold, obsessed with his music, a workaholic. It was somewhat true, he shrugged. Ideas were constantly in his mind and he was the happiest if he was putting them to life. That meant spending a lot of time by himself in the comfort and safety of his studio, space, and mind. It also meant he slept a lot. None of those characteristics meant he actually was cold or uninterested in finding his soulmate. Quite on the contrary, sometimes it felt it was the exact piece that was missing. He lived with it, but he wouldn't deny it or reject it if it happened. He would welcome her wholeheartedly, he had been waiting for some time now.

There was pressure to perform in front of thousands of people that night, as it was BTS’s last tour date in Europe, in Berlin. He was very tired, exhausted really, as were the others, but they were persevering. They had to, the quiet that would come after would be both a soothing balm and a curse. They had to make the best of it while they could, no matter what.

He was reflecting on that, at the backstage lounge after having slept a nap. The others were getting ready for the concert in other ways, though they were all quiet as the stress was building up. He walked out to reach the stylist's room and get his makeup done, knowing he would be the last one to do so when he felt it. He stumbled against the door awkwardly, completely taken by surprise. He looked around in shock, meeting the makeup artists’, hairdressers’, and stylists' surprised looks.

She was there. She was there somewhere.

He was there somewhere. Freya was certain of it. She knew she would know when it happened and she knew. She was terrified, petrified in place, but she knew.

“Freya, what’s wrong?”

Lidia sounded worried and Freya blinked blankly for a second. She had fallen against the wall and was now leaning against it. People were passing in between them in that corridor in both directions, oblivious to them, most speaking a language she didn’t understand.

Freya immediately forced a smile, dismissing her question. “I’m fine, I just tripped.”

Lidia accepted it because, in the turmoil of people running around backstage, that wasn’t surprising. Little did she know what happened. Freya was nearly sweating from nervousness, her body too hot to handle the May warmth.

How could that be, she thought, while following Lidia. She had lived in Berlin her whole life, why would it have to happen at a boy band concert? It made no sense, at all. On one hand, she had been super lucky to never stumble on him her whole life. On the other, really, a boy band concert? What if it was one of the fanboys outside?

That was her worst nightmare coming to reality. She wasn’t one to wallow in self-pity, but for fuck’s sake she almost had it. She almost lived a life in ignorance, free of fated bullcrap and withdrawal symptoms. Now she was facing her options: to run away immediately, to finish the job and hopefully never stumble on him, or to search for him. The latter wasn’t an option, and to leave without finishing the job was unprofessional. Lidia had asked her to be there to photograph that piece, the last concert date of the boy band in Europe, and she felt obligated to carry it through. They had an exclusive interview for their culture magazine and those photographs would make the fans go insane. Her professional code was above all else, she had fought tooth and nail to achieve everything she had. She vowed to never let her soulmate change her and it would certainly not start now.

Avoiding the person would probably be impossible, she considered, still following Lidia. The stadium was packed with fans and crew, there was no avoiding whoever it was. Since people kept passing through her constantly, she thought their bond must be pretty strong. Otherwise, how could it be that the sensation wasn’t fading as the person walked past her? They probably weren’t even walking past her. They were just somewhere in the vicinity.

There was no photoshoot scheduled, just the interview. When they walked into the artists' backstage lounge it was relatively quiet. There were seven, distinctively sitting in the corner of the room that had been lit and specially prepared for the occasion. Freya was surprised the artist’s crew had prepared that small arrangement for the interview, as it would usually be up to the magazine to arrange it.

She stayed by the door and grabbed her camera, pulling it to her face.

Lidia walked ahead with a gorgeous smile, “Hello everyone! Are we late? I hope you didn't wait long.”

The question was rhetorical, they were well ahead of time. Freya was immediately immersed in seeing life through her lens. She would do what she did best, soulmate pull bothering her or not.

She did not pay attention to the conversation between Lidia and the publicists, managers, and whoever else. She was certain Lidia pointed at her because she saw it through her camera.

"Just ignore her," Lidia said with a smile, glancing back at the camera. Lidia knew she liked to work in peace.

She wasn't a photographer who would take a thousand pictures to be able to choose one. She would take ten to choose five. That meant being very conscious of every angle, light, positioning, and framing. Everything had to be perfect. She had won awards for pictures she barely had to edit precisely because of her attention to detail. In warzones, she was severely limited in time and supplies, she had to make due. It wasn't the same circumstance, but her work ethic applied.

She liked seeing the crew work around them tirelessly and she wasn't shy about snapping photos of them. She was certain then that the concert was only about 20% the actual musicians. Not to diminish their work, but the show itself was not of their making. They were just starring in it.

The interview was well underway when she turned to the artists themselves. That wasn't problematic, their smile wouldn't change between the first and last question. She actually believed they'd relax more as the questions progressed, making their photos portray their true nature better.

Those thirty minutes flew truly by. She quickly scanned the photos she took through the view screen to make sure she had all seven in perfect soul-capturing moments, but she frowned. There was one that was different. He was speaking in the photo she took, he had an honest expression, and a beautiful complexion, but she didn't feel like the photo was as good as the others. He wasn't captured as well.

She raised her eyes to look at him and her heart jumped a beat. He was looking down, hands over his crossed legs. His hair was beautifully styled over his forehead, he looked almost like a doll. He sure was frozen, but she knew he was listening. His bandmate was answering a question in English and Lidia laughed, not too loud but not fakely either. That man smiled, not out of politeness, but out of understanding. Out of deeper thoughts. Something more meaningful.

Click.

She hadn't even thought of it, she had to capture it. Her stomach was twisting, she wasn't feeling too well. Damned soulbond shenanigans. She usually did very well in crowds, but she suddenly felt claustrophobic. She slipped through the entrance door and left. She was fighting hard for what was happening so as not to ruin her day.

He was barely containing himself. He had an urge, an energy pulse that wanted to pull at him and take him somewhere. He was sitting as still as he could, respectfully listening to the interview and answering when appropriate. He felt his smile might give it away, so he kept looking down. Some of the others noticed and touched him soothingly in worry, patting his back or shoulder softly. He stayed quiet, he couldn’t tell them yet.

When the journalist left and the room emptied a bit in the last ten minutes before the final preparations, he was finally free.

"What's wrong, Yoongi?" Hoseok was worried.

"Yeah, why didn't you answer the next album question?" Namjoon’s tone wasn't of irritation, just curiosity. "It's your question."

"You were really stiff too," Jimim commented with a concerned pout. They were next to each other and Jimin had at one point patted his lower back.

"Guys, let him talk," Seokjin interfered, waving his hand in front of his face. Was he getting hot? Cause Yoongi was burning up, and sweating without the show even starting.

"Look at him, he's flustered," Taehyung commented, looking at him from real close. Yoongi scoffed and brushed him away.

"Here's water, hyung," Jungkook offered him a water bottle which he gladly took.

"Guys," his voice sounded weird even to him. Since when was it this emotional? "I feel it."

"What?"

"Are you sick?"

"Don't push yourself too hard."

"Guys!" He grabbed Taehyung by the shoulders, who was still close and personal. He would have been annoyed if the occasion was different, he really didn’t care now. "I feel it. Her. She's here somewhere tonight. I feel it right now."

Chaos ensued, with some congratulations and some worries echoing throughout the room. They barely had a minute to discuss it with their manager Sejin, the first to be informed.

They were rushed to the level underneath the stage and the manager just smacked Yoongi’s shoulder, "Focus on the show. We'll find her after."

He was nervous now, and not about the show. His mind was processing the facts now. The person wasn't in the crew, he would have felt it before. It had to be someone who entered the venue when he felt it. That could be anyone, from fans to workers, and little could be done to slim the number down from tens of thousands to one. That thought made him despair. How would he ever find her in so many people?

"Hey," Namjoon had his hand over his shoulder. His eyes had a glint of concern, but his expression exuded confidence. "She feels you too." Yoongi nodded, taking a deep breath. "She'll probably come forward after the concert."

"She's probably an ARMY," Hoseok winked. Yoongi just shrugged, he didn't care if she was. That was the least of his concerns right now.

"Just think this is for her, for all of them," Jimin added with a light smile.

Yoongi nodded and rushed to the stage, the same as them. He gave it his all. He was exhausted, but he wasn't giving up. He knew he shocked his brothers because he had probably never shown such a performance before. He couldn't explain it. He had newfound energy, and hope. Things would be different from now on, for the best. The thought that she was listening, and seeing him perform gave him an extra incentive. He teased the public way more than usual. He rarely displayed his English skills as openly, but the circumstances told him she couldn't be Korean. Whoever she was in that crowd, he wanted to make sure she knew they could communicate. Could she even tell it was him? She was probably as lost as he was.

The pull was hard. Freya was facing the whole crowd from that spot, near the stage. She could easily take pictures of the stage, as well as the fans. She was trying to focus on her job, but something kept interrupting her. Sometimes she would feel goosebumps all over her body, though she did not know why. Maybe if that guy stopped talking on the microphone all the time, she could actually hear herself think.

She rubbed her eyes with a sigh; the show was almost ending, it would be over soon. She was particularly snappy because of the bond-induced tension, she knew that. She would be able to leave as soon as it ended, just a little while longer.

Or so she thought. The venue started emptying and Lidia insisted for them to stay. She didn't complain at first, taking pictures of the heartbroken fans when the show ended. Most of them were emotional, tears staining their faces, but they were smiling. For them, it must have been a life experience to see BTS on stage. If only Freya could have appreciated it as much. She also wanted to cry. She wanted to run away so badly.

The venue was nearly empty when a publicist showed up to call for Lidia. Apparently, there were some matters left to discuss. Lidia nudged Freya, saying how nice it was of them to let them experience the concert for free before getting back to business. Freya knew it was nice, but she just shrugged. She wanted to leave.

But she couldn't, Lidia was her ride. She could always run away either way, but it wasn't professional.

"Do you want me to come with you?" She asked, willing.

"No, it's just a meeting. Footage of the fans leaving, the empty poststage and backstage, or even the tired artists are more important. Make it count," Lidia winked before leaving. She probably didn't notice Freya’s expression, as excited as if she was sucking on a sour lemon.

She needed to calm down, she thought. She had to be professional above all else. She could not, and would not, have that stupid occurrence ruin her photojournalist reputation. Over her dead body.

She exited the designated area, aimlessly taking shots whenever she felt it was worth it. She had her bag with other lenses that she would switch occasionally. She got lost.

Yoongi was despairing. He couldn't help it. He wasn't even listening to the argument anymore. He was focused on the feeling, on the internal drum. He was panicked that it was going to disappear in a heartbeat.

"There's nothing we can do! We can't prevent the fans from leaving the venue, we can't force them to leave one by one. Not to mention that just touching the subject would immediately destroy any option of privacy for Yoongi or his soulmate." Sejin was being reasonable, everyone knew that. But one glance at Yoongi's face said it all. It was not enough.

Namjoon kept arguing, but Yoongi turned around to face the mirror, closing his eyes. He felt someone behind him.

"Do you still feel it?" Jungkook’s kind voice asked.

He nodded with his heart tight in his chest. He did feel it, he felt it better now, if that made sense. It was called a pull for a reason. He felt pulled, compelled to move, to go somewhere. He didn't know where, he didn't know if it worked and it was probably not safe for him to leave that room. But he felt it as though he was a compass with an arrow juggling around. No one was going to find her but him. And he absolutely couldn't lose her.

He opened his eyes and confidently walked out, not paying attention to anyone. He didn't notice his brothers calling or manager Sejin telling them to let him go. The venue was nearly empty, maybe one-fourth of the fans were still around. He still felt her, so maybe they had a chance.

He walked to the higher levels completely on a gut feeling. He hadn't even changed outfits or showered yet, he was straight out of the stage with a gray hoodie and black tight pants. He had a black headband over his hairline that kept his short dark brown hair from falling down his eyes and the sweat from dripping. None of it mattered though, he didn’t have time to look presentable, he needed to find her.

When he reached the higher level, he wasn't even afraid to meet fans, the thought didn’t occur to him. He just stumbled, numb. He could barely feel it anymore, it was like a pulled elastic at the end. It was still there, and so was she. Yet, for a second his chest filled with anguish and it physically hurt. He had no sense of direction anymore. Nothing made sense anymore. He was failing and it was useless, he had no idea of what to do.

People were starting to mumble around him and he was brought back to reality. He needed an escape, to hide the repressed feelings that were starting to make his chest hurt. There was a door in front of him. He entered the room, slamming the door behind him.

Freya was walking aimlessly, completely lost. There weren't that many people around and she wasn't really interested in taking pictures anymore. The moment had passed. She hoped to catch the band leaving, knowing that was the kind of shot her magazine could appreciate for the online version of the article.

The more she kept going, the more sure she became that she was going the wrong way. She was effectively ignoring her surroundings and just going. The crew was going in the opposite direction, the fangirls and security too. She tried convincing herself that was totally normal. It was totally her own will taking her somewhere in order to snap more pictures. It was not that gut-wrenching pull telling her she had to be somewhere.

She was walking down a corridor when she suddenly froze. Her body was burning up, her heart racing out of control, but her gut clearly knew that was it. No need to go further. She was deaf at that point, the bond so strong it was a deafening physical energy current around her pushing her in only one direction: the door in front of her.

Everything else was muffled and unimportant. Yet from the outside of the door, she could already feel she shouldn’t open it. The force was so strong it was numbing. Her hand hovered over the door knob and she wondered how it wasn't vibrating with the resonance of such a powerful pull. She wanted to fight it with all of her strength, and her hand trembled. It would change her life forever if she opened that door. She didn't want that to happen.

But she wasn't strong enough, it was just so much stronger than her. She succumbed to it, fatefully so. She grabbed the doorknob and tried to rationalize it. It couldn’t hurt to see him at least once, or at least to tell him she wasn't and wasn't ever going to be interested. Yeah, that's it. That was why she had to get in there. It wasn't that person's fault and she should at least tell him that.

She entered the room quickly, a small meeting room, and closed the door without turning. Inside, the pull became like a magnetic field, all around them like walls, instead of a single string. She turned slowly around and saw a man standing behind the center table, having risen from his chair, staring at her in shock. He was different than she expected, though she expected nothing. He looked tired, that was her first thought. Why was he so tired? His dark brown hair was wet with sweat and falling over his headband. His eyes were smaller than she would expect, and darker. His skin was so pale she wondered if it was porcelain; was that makeup? He was her height it would seem, though bulkier than her. That hoodie did not give much away, but he looked comfortable. She was somewhat happy he was comfortable, despite his tiredness.

Her eyes were glued to him like nothing else existed because nothing else did. She was walking slowly in his direction, completely unaware. She had heard of the trance but she never thought it would be that strong. Her body moved on its own, her mind clouded as if she was high on drugs. She was such a strong-willed person, and yet it seemed all her convictions evaporated. Her legs were jello and would only move in his direction. She argued that it was only physical, her mind was still alert. Yet they were a step away from each other when she recognized her own lie. Her mind was as interested as her body, especially because she recognized him. But from where?

They shouldn't have touched, she thought. As soon as their hands did there was no denying it. There was no reasoning that could explain what was happening, except soulmating. Her chest filled with cheer bliss while her whole body warmed up like crazy as if she was a firework ready to pop in a million colors. And it was strange to recognize the same sort of emotion in such foreign eyes, in a stranger's face. She felt endeared by that face, propelled to care for that person with the clear consciousness that she did not know him. And her heart, or should she say soul, was at peace with it.

She struggled with that thought. First, because she thought they would instantly love each other blindly or something, and she didn’t want that to happen. Second, because it confirmed her own theories that soulbonding would erase her sense of self, her autonomy, and her individuality. She would be damned if she’d ever let any of that happen.

She knew nothing would ever feel the same or compare to him. However, knowing it in theory or feeling it in practice were very different things. Every particle of her body and soul agreed that was it, her other half, and no other person, relationship or bond would ever replace it. She looked at her hands in his and she had to close her eyes for a second to control her emotions. The urge to hug him was making her toes curl.

“What’s your name?”

Her eyes jumped to him and widened. She knew him, she heard his voice a lot tonight. She pictured him without the headband in a pretty black suit and she gasped. He was one of the guys from the band! She was completely shaken to her core; how was that possible?! Weren’t they from the other side of the world?

Then she shook her head, but of course he was. He didn’t live in Berlin, or else they’d have met before. He only happened to come to Berlin, and she only happened to be invited to work that piece last minute. Lidia would call it fate.

“What’s your name?”

His voice gave her goosebumps. He was saying it in English, not German, but she was totally fine with it. Despite the slight demand from his voice, he was using a loving tone. A soft caress to her ears meant to not trouble her. But she was troubled, deeply. She fought to keep her mouth shut, clenching her teeth and looking away. She saw his chest heave to take in a breath before insisting on knowing her name and she panicked. She couldn’t deny him if he kept asking, her soul wouldn’t allow it. So she kissed him.

She censored herself for a millisecond before their lips touched. Kissing him went against everything she stood for. First and foremost, because she was invading his privacy, his personal space. She was attacking him, sexually assaulting him for fuck’s sake. Soulmate or not, that couldn’t be taken lightly. Second, because it was disrespectful as a whole to kiss someone without knowing if they consented. What if he had a girlfriend or was married? Third, because she wanted to keep her distance from her soulmate. They were never supposed to have met, let alone touch or kiss. She wanted to leave, run away, and never look back. No matter the pain it would cause them both. That was too selfish of her and the more they dove in, the more she would hurt him, wound him. His soul, the other part of her. He was an unlucky bastard to be fated to be her other half.

Despite the flawless logic in all of those thoughts, she couldn’t stop her lips and he didn’t seem to mind. He was surprised for a second, before supporting her waist with his hands carefully while she grabbed his head in place. For someone who wanted to run away as soon as possible, she sure was keeping him firmly in her grip.

She forced him to walk back until he was against the wall. She did so because now he had nowhere to go, she could press her body against him. She felt absolute ecstasy running through her blood. She could not stop kissing him. She could not be stopped. She vaguely thought the only way would be for him to ask it, and she doubted he ever would.

His hands stayed respectfully at her waist, frustratingly so. It was infuriating in a way how he seemed to be more in control than she was when she was the one who didn’t want this to happen. She should be outraged that they were kissing without her consent. She didn’t have the mind space to think about that though, she would reflect on being a hypocrite later.

For now, his lips tasted like heaven. She was going into all the corny tropes because they fit exactly how she felt. She was riding the wave of a rush and it was divine. She had never been high on LSD or cocaine, but she imagined it came close to that. Her tongue had no problems invading his mouth, provoking hot waves of pleasure to reverberate through her whole body. The way he just accepted it, as if giving her the full reins of it, stupidly turned her on, egged her on. He was the only one who could stop her, why didn’t he?

She fought hard to stop their makeout session and pulled away, panting uncontrollably. She was eating him alive. So much for saying ‘goodbye, let’s never see each other again’.

“You… What's your name?”

Their faces were still glued together, his arms around her. She pushed herself away and turned to the side, covering her mouth with her right hand. Somehow, pulling away from him exhausted her. She felt like even gravity was against her. She stayed like that, panting at a short but safe distance, looking at him.

After a moment of silence, he walked to a chair and sat down. The corners of his lips were raised in a small smile, he looked calm. He had all the time in the world, it seemed. Well, she didn't, she had other things to do. Like running away and never look back. Stupid soulbond was too heavy, her legs were stomped.

He pointed at the chair across from him, on the other side of the table. "Please, sit."

She wanted to scream. He was being so gentle, so condescending. Was she an idiot that couldn't keep herself away? Y- No. She wasn't a fangirl. She was a hard-working adult. An award-winning photojournalist. She was in control. Mostly. She couldn't even look away from him, that empty chair had nothing on him.

She tried calming herself down. She took her camera strip out of her neck, letting the camera sit on the table, and then she also dropped her lens bag on the floor next to it. Her breathing was stabilizing and she swallowed dryly. He was patiently waiting for her. He looked like a mythological God observing her, a mere mortal, to cope with his presence. And she had all the intentions of kneeling and begging for whatever mercy he could give.

She scoffed and pulled her copper hair back, out of her face. It was good. That soulmate thing… It was strong. She never thought it would get to that point. She knew when to admit defeat. And that was certainly, still, not the time to.

She took a step forward, convinced that she was in control. She was going to put her hand on his shoulder and say, ‘I’m sorry it had to be me. I’m not interested. Let’s forget this ever happened.'

Her hand actually hovered over his shoulder for a moment, when her blue eyes deviated to the exposed skin of his neck. Her hand trembled while she struggled between her wills, visceral thoughts opposing one another. He must have seen her inner battle because he extended his hand and guided hers to his shoulder calmingly. It tipped the scales.

Her hormones, body, whatever it was took control. What she wanted beyond him didn’t matter, no one beyond him mattered. She felt like everything in life was secondary, a faded background, dim against his brightness. There was only one thing she wanted.

Her leg heaved to the other side of him and she sat on top of his legs. He seemed to be expecting her lips when she leaned forward to greet him. His hands went to rest carefully by her waist while hers kept by his neck. He was taking her kisses fully, meeting her passion without ever imposing. But she was hungry. She started grinding herself against him and as soon as she could feel his hard-on clearly through his pants and her shorts, she just couldn’t stop anymore.

Her mind became foggy and nothing else but their pleasure meant anything. There was something at the end of the rainbow and she wanted it. Not want, want. Like the need to breathe. He grunted and parted their lips, trying to look around, at them, at her.

She got up with a weird sense of ease. She unbuttoned her shorts without ever dropping her eyes from him. His, however, accompanied the fabric’s descent down her naked legs. She pulled her panties down in the same motion and he seemed to understand. His expression was now serious, as she imagined hers. She wanted it, like oxygen. Like daylight. He could stop it though. One word and her world would crumble.

He extended his right hand for her to take. She took it and got closer. He meant to get up, but she stopped him. She unbuttoned his pants herself while her heart drummed in her chest. It wasn’t even about what he was going to look like or anything of the sort. She just had to feel him.

She got on his lap and immediately pulled his erection out. It was hard and shiny, extending proudly upwards. Their eyes met and no words were spoken. His hands were on her hips and she just did what she was supposed to. She sat down.

It had never felt that way before. She was never the most sexual person, but it was not supposed to feel like that. If she had a will, it vanished then. Her completeness could not be described. It was like an explosion of color, like a gust of wind, like the stars on the black pane of the universe. She was a boat looking to anchor, he was the nest she came to sleep in.

Once the cosmic waves were done resonating in her nerves, she opened her eyes, aware. It was like seeing everything blurry and then putting on glasses. She understood. She could barely think, but she knew she understood. And looking at his eyes, she knew he did too. His arms raised around her in a tight embrace to keep her close while her hips started rolling. She felt embraced, and accepted, like a promise was being made. Their bodies were giving something to each other because that was the only way their souls could be one again. That pleasure making her skin stretch was the extent their souls would ever touch each other. That was sad in a way, making her feel anguish. Yet he kissed her chest, right over her heart, making her come to an almost full stop. He was promising. She started moving again. That promise would only be real if they committed. If their souls actually touched and joined.

She had never felt pleasure like that. She thought she would reach her orgasm very soon, but somehow there was more. Like an endless staircase to heaven. He grew impatient with kissing her shirt and forced it out. She gladly helped. His lips on her skin were everything, and she moaned through clenched teeth at the shock. His tongue darted out to feel her breasts, contouring her bra edges and sneaking in as much as he could. She was still going, jumping as low as possible so he could do it. She grew impatient and her hands reached her back to release the bra when he stopped her.

He grabbed her hands, “No, don’t stop.”

It was a catalyst, if there could be one. His hands groped her firmly everywhere while she got lost in the feeling of riding him. She was now moaning with every motion, so ready to reach him whenever he was.

He grunted from the back of his throat, “Fuck.”

She nodded approvingly and felt the instant he was ready. She forced his hands on her breasts to squeeze hard while she sat down strongly a few times, making him go so deep it nearly hurt.

Only it was pure bliss. She closed her eyes and all she could see was golden. Golden waves with particles of light. Her body trembled in spasms, her voice muted without breath. Her body felt like it was hovering in a breeze, floating. She could feel his hands, his body, inside and out. She felt warm and safe. Home.

It lasted maybe fifteen seconds. Then, the golden waves receded, the lights disappeared like stars in the morning sky, her body floated softly to the ground, and it was done. Her head fell over his shoulder and his hand came to rest on her hair. They were both panting. They promised, it was done. She was hugging him as tightly as she could. She was scared to open her eyes.

You can go here to keep reading [ao3] (this story is finished) 💜

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littlefreya · 1 year

Note

Hi Freya. Do you have any public sex stories? 🙈

I sure do, Nonie 😏🖤 here is a curated list for you of the stories I've written for Henry, Sy, Walter, August, Sherlock and Charles.

Outdoors / public sexy times stories

✨Henry

It can’t wait - Henry Cavill x Reader (Smut, semi-public rough sex, MaleDom) Dirty rough elevator sex with Henry

Dirty Henry - Henry x Reader ( 18+, smutty smut, oral sex - female receiving, lewd, descriptive profanities that will make your ears burn, praising, outdoor sex, gentle rough sex, creampie. ) A picnic in the rural forest turns into a steamy game of profanities as Henry decides to demonstrate how he would persuade you to be his.

Crooked Bowtie - Henry x Reader (Smut, blowjob, gagging, semi-public) You are teasing Henry in VIP gala, yet again. He ought to drag you aside and take care of this little predicament.

Risky - Henry x Reader ( smut, exhibitionism kink, public sexual behaviour, cockwarming, profanities and oddly some fluff) Henry makes you cockwarm him during a public event.

Bad Reputation - Henry x OFC (Slight SubMale / DomFem then a lot of DomMale / SubFem, dry humping, thigh riding, cock teasing, dangerous driving, fingering, dirty talk, daddy kink, slight size kink, unprotected sex and bodily fluids! ) Henry and his girl can’t get enough from one another. They keep finding themselves in rather sticky and lusty situations while other actors are present around them

Plot Twist - Henry Cavill x Reader (unwanted erections, smutty situations) You are a co-star acting alongside you when you get into a tricky situation

Plot twist part 2 - Henry Cavill x Reader ( graphic smut, enemies to lovers, thigh riding, outdoors unprotected sex, hate-sex, profanities, creampie, exhibitionism, slight angst. ) Henry and you hated one another since the day you started working together. However, things took an awkward turn after an embarrassing incident on set.

Good Girl - Henry x OFC (Slight SubMale / DomFem then a lot of DomMale / SubFem, dry humping, cock teasing, dangerous driving, fingering, dirty talk, daddy kink, slight size kink) Henry is at the gym testing the new Glute Drive while his longing wife drops by to visit and decides to play a little wicked game of teasing.

Pretty when you Cry - Henry x OFC ( MaleDom, oral, breeding) Henry can be overprotective and asked his lady several times not to do her own dangerous stunts while filming. But she chooses to defy him and that’s gonna cost her.

Putting up a Show - Henry x OFC (Smut, public fucking) Awards shows are always a bore and Henry is always touchy-feely with his girl.

AU MaficBoss Henry - Crystal Ship - Henry x OFC (Smut, WIP) A dangerous crime lord in England, who has everything he wants, but what really gets him off is what’s hard to get.

Drabbles:

Teasing Henry in public (Suggestive)

Ordinary Day - public fingering with Henry (Smut)

✨Syverson

Feral Collision - Coach!Syverson x Reader (Smut, inappropriate relationship, fingering, choking, unprotected sex, creampie.) After quitting the military, Captain Syverson began working at your university as the coach of the football team. You hardly ever crossed path with him, until an err in time set your on a collision course.

Feral Collision Part Two - Coach!Syverson x Reader (smut, age-gap - reader is over 18, inappropriate relationship, maleDom, manhandling, jealousy, possessive behaviour, public outdoor sex, oral sex (female receiving), some denial, unprotected sex, hyperspermia (I went there), creampie, loads of dirty talk, mentions of alcohol.) You vowed this could never happen, but the Coach won’t leave your mind. There’s only one way to get rid of an itch…

Let Me In - Syverson x Reader (Explicit Smut, semi-public oral performed on a woman) You have your very first fight, and he is not inclined on apologizing properly. So he is trying a different trick of winning your heart back.

Home Sweet Home - Syverson x reader (fluff to smut. Oral sex - female receiving, outdoor vaginal sex, unprotected sex, risky creampie, mention of bodily fluids) Syverson returns from a long deployment to reunite with his woman.

Tough Luck - Syverson x Reader (angry rough sex, hyperspermia, manhandling, semi-outdoor sex, breeding, DomMale vibes, dirty talks, primal sex. ) The Captain is having a bad day and everything is going to hell, but he vows to at least make one thing right while finding an outlet for his rage.

The Real Thing - Captain Syverson x Reader (smut, female masturbation with a sex toy, mentions of sexual intercouse (p in v), slight fingering, mentions of exhibtionism, voyeurism, semi- public sex, hinted breeding, hinted possessive behaviour) 🎃 NEW 🎃 Syverson walks in on you playing with yourself

✨August

Cowboys from Hell - August Walker x Female Reader | Syverson, Mike, Geralt, Walter and Clark. (cockwarming, public sex, slight dub-con, manipulation, exhibtionism, unprotected sex, creampie, hinted of gang-bang) You enjoy a rock concert, fixating on the Viking-looking drummer when someone in the crowd decides to use you first…

Poison Honey - August Walker x Reader ( Passion, romance, sexual innuendo, a “thrill of the chase” if this may trigger anyone and mild alcohol use.) Everyone around you is too busy getting drunk and making out, while you are just dying for this dreadful Christmas party to be over. But just as you plan to leave, you catch the eye of a very hungry August Walker.

Elevator Ride - August Walker x Reader (grinding, public fingerfucking, exhibitionism, depictions of sex, orgasm denial.) Riding the elevator with Agent August Walker, you believe he would never dare try anything with all these people around, but oh, darling, you could never be so wrong.

Late Hours - August Walker x Reader ( Passion, romance, sexual innuendo, mention of fingering, a “thrill of the chase”, teasing, indecent work relationship, grinding, exhibitionism, possessive behaviour, jealousy. ) After a small lustful rendezvous in the elevator where August had his fingers where they shouldn’t be he is now ignoring you and you are not having any of it.

Hood Ornaments - August x Reader ( unprotected public sex, rough, maleDom/femSub, hair pulling, anal play, creampie, depiction of bodily fluids, profanities, praising and degradation, glove fetishism, exhibition) August fucks you at the parking lot while wearing leather glove

Daddy’s Girl - August x OFC (Explicit Smut, hatefucking) She walks around, pretending she is better than him. August is going to show her who is the king around here.

Thanksgiving - August x OFC (Explicit smut, public fingering) August Walker, the hardened CIA agent is meeting his girlfriend’s parents for a thanksgiving dinner. She’d rather forced him into it. Now, how sorry is she going to be by the end of the meal?

✨Walter

Heart of Darkness - Walter x OFC (Smut, roleplay, semi-public office sex) Slight sequel to Overprotected. Walter’s longing wife comes to visit him at his office.

Sounds of the Abyss - Walter x OFC (Explicit smut, outdoor sex) Forest sex with Walter on the hood of his jeep. Senses Challange: Sound.

Guardian Angel - Walter x Reader (Fluff, romance, a hint of smut, a pinch of oral (pussy kissing), groping, a pinch of angst because it’s Walter, semi-public PDA.) 🎃 NEW 🎃 You are to be used as bait in Walter’s investigation, and so he helps install the tracking equipment below your dress.

✨Sherlock

Cockwarming Sherlock at the Park - Sherlock x Reader (Smut, cockwarming) Sherlock was leaning against the thick tree bark, calmly reading a book. The air smelled fresh with grass, damp moss and that animalistic musk that was him, the civilised beast.

Carriage Ride - Sherlock x Reader (Smut, oral sex - man receiving, mentions of spanking. ) Giving Sherlock a blow job during a carriage ride.

Charles Brandon

Discreet - Charle x ofc (Smut, semi-public, loss of virginity, slight angst) It might kill him if he touches her, but one touch of hers is worth a thousand deaths.

My masterlist

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfiction #august walker #captain syverson #walter marshall #sherlock holmes #ask freya

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hongcherry · 8 months

Text

pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc | 5

“After being assigned a fashion show for your big senior project, you set off to find volunteers to make it successful. However, when you meet Choi Seungcheol and his unfriendly clique through your volunteers, you realize they’re an unwanted package deal you can’t escape from. Can you handle Seungcheol’s obnoxious friends, and can he handle your brash behavior?”

🍒 Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (afab)

🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst; Unrequited enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, college au

🍒 Warnings: General tws + seungcheol's not smart with his words, name calling not in bed (bitch), degradation (no in bed), mention of murder (jokingly), slut-shaming

🍒 WC: 11.6k

🍒 Betas: Sarah, Indi, Kelly, Freya 🤩

🍒 Author’s Note: I love seeing everyone's reactions to the chapters so far! The last chapter was the calm before the storm, so prepare for lots of angst in this chapter 🫣 Thank you for reading, and please enjoy the early upload ♥️

also read here: AO3 | Wattpad

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

Waking up in Seungcheol's bed is a lot more relaxing this time.

Partly because Seungcheol has your back pressing against his chest, an arm slung over your body, and his head nestled against yours. You rest an arm over his as you take a deep breath, recalling the memories from last night. The events flash in front of you as if you’re clicking through a view master. From Dae and you drinking to both of you on the floor, to hitting Hajun, to the argument you had with Seungcheol, to having his body moving with yours.

You thought you were going to get closure last night, but you only opened the wound wider. It’s going to be harder to stay away from him. At this point, you don’t want to either. You just need to find a way to stop seeing his business friends every time you see Seungcheol. If anything, you are more willing to find alternatives than completely push him out of your life.

Seungcheol stirs behind you, body untangling from yours to switch sides. You think he’s going to get up, but he just stills again. You peer over your shoulder to look at him. He has his back to you now, so you can’t see his face. You decide to let him rest longer since it’s the weekend, after all.

You carefully climb out of bed and put on the hoodie and boxers he had given you last night. You walk to his bathroom, ready to freshen up, only to remember you didn’t come with anything.

Your eyes land on his toothbrush. You can snoop around until you find a new one, but you don't want to risk his privacy. You can just use your finger… Ah, whatever, you’ll ask him really quickly, then let him go back to sleep.

Padding back to the bed, you carefully kneel in front of him.

Seungcheol has never been unattractive, yet you didn’t find him that handsome initially. Though right now, he looks beyond stunning. Strands of his hair lay in front of his face, and his lips are in their natural downward position. Nothing has changed in his appearance from when you first met him, so why does your heart flutter at the sight of him at this moment?

Sighing at your never-ending thoughts, you reach out and shake him gently.

“Seungcheol?” you ask softly so as to not scare him awake. You expect to have to wiggle him a few more times, but he wakes up instantly. His eyes find yours easily and fill with worry as he starts to sit up. You begin to feel guilty waking him up for a silly toothbrush.

“You alright? Are you hurt?” he asks. His morning voice is as deep as you remember. Although it’s still attractive, you find it cute now. You’d fall asleep around him more just so you could hear his voice the next morning.

You give him a tiny reassuring smile. “I’m okay. I just wanted to know if I could have a spare toothbrush.”

Upon hearing your words, his body relaxes. He sits up fully and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. The covers fall down his body, pooling in his lap. You forgot he is naked. Now with the morning light, you can see his chest clearer. You had felt every inch of it last night, even saw it due to his lamp, but seeing it in a new light is another joy. Or perhaps it’s because your mind isn’t as cloudy.

“Of course, baby,” he rasps. The small chuckle accompanied by his response is low, and you want to hear it again.

Seungcheol steps from the bed, letting the cover fall half on the floor. You shake your head at his carelessness. While he retrieves a pair of sweats from his dresser, you pick up the cover from the floor.

“You could’ve just left it there,” he smiles as he strolls past you into the bathroom. You can’t help but make a mental correction in your daydreams—Seungcheol would wear sweats without a shirt.

“It was going to bother me,” you reply and turn to watch him. He leans down, opens the lower cabinet, and digs around until he lifts an unboxed toothbrush.

“For you,” he says and tilts it in your direction. You take it and free the brush. Seungcheol takes the trash from you as he stands, then points to the toothpaste on the counter. “Feel free to use it, okay?”

You nod. “Thank you. I’ll give you a new one in return,” you reply, starting to prep the toothbrush.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Seungcheol tosses the trash in the bin next to the sink, then pauses in his actions, as if debating on what to do. After a second, he quickly grabs his own toothbrush. You watch him silently while you brush your teeth. Soon, Seungcheol is copying your actions, giving you a smile in the mirror when he catches your stare. Your heart twists with affection, and seeing both your reflections—dressed in casual wear and doing a simple act—is all too domestic.

Almost as if this is something that is normal for you two, but it isn’t. Not liking how comfortable you are starting to feel, you quickly rinse your mouth. Seungcheol reaches down and holds your hair back as you do so. Once you’re done, Seungcheol grabs the brush and places it in the container. He rinses his mouth next before setting his toothbrush down next to yours.

Who knew seeing two toothbrushes next to each other would be the cause of your mental spiral?

You walk from the bathroom and into the living room, trying to find your purse. He follows you slowly.

“You’re not about to make me a one-night stand, are you?” he asks. His voice is playful, but you know it isn’t a rhetorical question.

You think about it, but unfortunately, he’s your ride. The only other person you can call right now is hung over at another person’s apartment.

“I just wanted to see if Dae was okay,” you answer.

“Oh, right,” he says, seeming to have forgotten about her predicament. It doesn’t bother you, though. She isn’t his concern. “I put it over here.”

You turn to see him grabbing it. You walk over, taking it from him before fishing out your phone. Ah, of course. Dead.

Your pout must be evident on your face, because Seungcheol asks, “What’s wrong?”

You flip the phone over to show a black screen.

“No power,” you sigh and toss the useless brick of a phone back into your purse.

Seungcheol glances around, then leaves to grab something from another part of the room. It’s his phone.

He presses a few things on the screen before lifting the device to his ear.

“Hey,” he says and moves to sit on the couch. When he pats the spot next to him, you go over.

“Yeah, she’s fine,” he continues.

From a close distance, you can faintly hear Joshua on the other end.

“That’s good,” Joshua says. “Dae’s up. She wasn’t doing too well earlier, but she seems better now.”

“Speaking of, Yn wanted to talk to her. Can you give the phone over?”

“Sure thing,” he answers.

Seungcheol gives you the phone with a small smile.

“Thanks,” you mutter and bring the phone to your ear. You lean back on the couch so your head is against the armrest. Seungcheol places your legs over his lap and begins massaging your calves. You give him a smile at his actions, his strong hands feeling nice against your skin. The sight of him shirtless doing a mundane act has butterflies forming in your tummy. You’re about to daydream about him, but Dae’s loud voice snaps you away from those thoughts.

“Did I really puke on you?!” Dae gasps on the other side. You pull the device from your ear slightly at the loud noise.

“Yeah, so not only do you owe me a pair of heels, you owe me a whole outfit too,” you tease.

“Pluh-ease, just take something of Seungcheol’s and call it a deal. I’m sure he’s got some designer clothes you can steal.”

Your eyes snap to him at her suggestion. Seungcheol has his focus on your legs, acting like he isn’t listening in, but the smile on his lips tells you he is.

“I don’t need his clothes,” you reply with a huff. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“Considering I’m at a cute stranger’s apartment, in a cute stranger’s room, I’m doing just peachy.”

“You think Joshua is cute?” you ask. Okay, so this isn’t the time for girls talk, but the question leaves your lips before you can stop it.

Dae giggles. “A little. Don’t you?”

Seungcheol’s hands squeeze your legs as if challenging you to say yes.

Despite agreeing with Dae, you answer with a shrug, “He’s not ugly.”

Hopefully, that’s good enough to save your ass.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Dae concludes.

Your eyes flicker to Seungcheol to see his reaction. There’s a hint of a pout on his plump lips. You hold back a laugh. Still a baby, you think with a shake of your head.

“Hey, did those assholes leave you alone eventually? I started to black out. I don’t quite remember,” Dae wonders.

At the mention of Hajun and Hana, you avert your gaze from Seungcheol.

“Sort of,” you trail off. They didn’t, but you don’t want to bad mouth Seungcheol’s friends in front of him. Not that it probably matters; it’s not a surprise you don’t get along.

“It’s fine. Nothing I can’t handle.” You try to dismiss the topic.

“To an extent, Yn. I know you,” she says, more serious now. “Remember, don’t let them get to you. They’re the real whores. Oh, did they ever take that picture?”

Knowing Dae doesn’t want to let up on the conversation. You start to retract your legs from Seungcheol so you can go to another room. However, he grips your legs so you can’t move. You eye him confused, but he still doesn’t look at you. Sighing, you lay back down.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly.

“Hm. I think Joshua stopped them. He said when he came out, neither of them had their phones out.”

“T-that’s good.”

“I just wanted to ask in case you saw otherwise,” she explains. “I know what I said before, but you’re right. Seungcheol should really lose them as friends.”

You speak fast before she can dive into the topic further.

“Look, I just called to see—”

“Well, besides that. Was Seungcheol nice to you last night?” she interrupts.

Your hands start to play with his hoodie as you try to ignore the fact he can hear everything. The answer depends on which part of the night she wants to refer to. He was not nice the first half, but the second half… You feel a shiver run down your spine at the thought of you two in bed. His hands and lips over your body as he made you feel so, so good.

Not wanting Seungcheol to question your response, you semi-lie, “Yes.”

“Hm,” she pauses. You can tell she thinks you’re lying by your delayed answer. “Did something happen between you two?”

Yes.

“No.”

Dae giggles. “I knew you liked him! You did the two-person tango with him, huh? You send me off to be babysat so you can have some freaky time.”

“Dae!” you scold and pull your legs from Seungcheol’s lap despite him trying to stop you again.

She gasps on the other line. “You haven’t had se—”

You jolt from the couch and briskly walk to the other side of the room.

“I should get going. I’m glad you’re fine though,” you rush.

“Alright, alright. We’ll talk later about that,” she laughs. “Do you need me to get Joshua to pick you up?” she asks. You finally looked at Seungcheol again. He’s looking at you now, face unreadable. Your heart races a little at not knowing what he’s thinking.

“No, I can get Seungcheol to drop me off.”

“Okay. I’ll be home soon and will probably go back to sleep.”

“Alright. Get back safely,” you reply.

“You too, Yn.”

You hang up the call and slowly walk toward him to give the phone back. You hate how silent it is.

“Pretend you didn’t hear anything,” you tell him.

You expect him to bring up your fight with his friends again, but instead, he asks about another part. One that takes you by surprise.

“You were a virgin?” His voice comes out hushed, but it’s so quiet you have no trouble hearing it. Rather than sounding frightened like some others may, he sounds doubtful. To your disappointment, he even chuckles under his breath.

Before you can completely digest his words, he adds, “So, I wasn’t number sixty-seven?”

Your body halts.

Although you aren’t a virgin, you feel hurt by his implication that you sleep around. It’s then you recall Dae on the phone. You cut her off before she could finish her sentence. You haven’t had sex in a while, having dumped your ex for being a douche and not wanting to hook up with some rando from a bar in the meantime.

“You think I’ve slept with everyone on campus?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady as you look for your ruined outfit from last night. There’s a sense of foreboding as you await his reply.

“Well, maybe not everyone,” he says slowly and raises his head to look at you. There’s a teasing tone hidden somewhere in that sentence, but you don’t find it funny.

You stare at him incredulously, your movements halting at his words. Is he serious right now? You’re not sure where this is coming from, but you don’t need to hear more. Wherever your outfit is, it can stay there. You don’t care about it that much to last another minute here looking for it.

“Ah, right. I just have people lining up as I keep my legs spread. Oh! But there are always newcomers that enroll. We can’t forget them, so you’re right. Not everyone,” you hiss out, mind ripping up every pleasurable thought you ever had about Seungcheol. All those minutes thinking of him are wasted in a blink of an eye.

“That’s not what I meant,” he replies with a shake of his head, standing up. “I meant you’re just too pretty to have not had se—”

“What a fucking pig,” you berate. “Being pretty doesn’t have anything to do with being a virgin or not. I can be pretty without being a whore.”

Panic rises in his eyes. “You’re right. I didn’t mean—I just… Shit.” He closes his eyes tightly for a moment, but you don’t wait for him to collect his thoughts.

“I see why you let your friends talk shit about me now,” you say as you snatch your purse from where you left it. You lock eyes with him when you continue, “It’s because you agree with them.”

It’s like the light bulb above your head suddenly turns on.

You know it was unlikely he wouldn't ditch those friends, but you thought you could deal with it if you didn’t have to see them. You could visit Seungcheol somewhere in private or with your mutual friends instead. You would have found ways to be with him because your feelings for him were too strong to overlook. Though, now you saw that would never happen. It truly was all an illusion.

And you were right earlier.

He already thinks bad of you.

“That’s not true at all,” Seungcheol urges. “I’m sorry. I was just surprised and joking before. I didn’t use my words correctly. Hear me out, Cherry.”

He definitely did not sound surprised earlier, and his “jokes”… Yeah. His words were ass. And so is he.

You take a deep inhale, fanning the flames so as to not let your heart feel anything but anger.

“Joking... You and those ‘friends’ of yours always tell such hilarious jokes,” you laugh dryly and turn for his door. Recalling you don’t have a car, your gaze lands on his face. Well, since you are already a bitch in his eyes, might as well bring that persona to life.

“Where are you going? You’re not even dressed. Yn, stop! Just stay here, and let’s talk,” he implores, rushing to you.

You forgot you’re just in his hoodie and boxers. Heck, you don’t even have shoes on. None of that matters to you, though.

You quickly whip around to face him.

“I’m so terribly sorry,” you over-exaggerate your apology as you reach behind you. “I can’t stay any longer. My one o’clock fuck is waiting for me.”

Your hand snatches his keys then you’re storming out of his apartment. You hear him yelling after you, but you ignore it while you rush to find his car before he can catch you.

Voices to your right catch your attention, which has you sighing with relief when you see familiar, friendlier faces. You’re not sure how they always pop up around you, but you aren’t complaining for once.

Chan, Jun, and Soonyoung are walking toward you while they chat. They don’t notice you at first, but the sound of your feet hitting the pavement catches their attention.

“Yn?!” Jun exclaims, eyes big at seeing you.

“What are you wearing? Where are your clothes?!” Soonyoung asks. His shocked expression quickly turns into concern.

“Yn’s here?” another voice asks. Jeonghan stands by the driver’s seat of the car the others got out of. He props an arm on the top of the vehicle, his door still open. You’ve never been happier to see his face.

“Yn!” Seungcheol’s voice calls out behind you. You don’t bother looking back and quickly maneuver around the three men to get in the car. Thankfully, it isn’t locked yet.

“Where are your clothes?” Chan asks Seungcheol.

“Jeonghan, get your ass in the car now, or I’m going to burn your legos,” you threaten quickly as you buckle, remembering his precious Lego collection you once saw in his room.

“Aish,” he grumbles and gets in, shutting the door. You quickly lock the doors and then point to the road.

“Drive now,” you demand.

“Woah, just calm down. Why are—”

There is a loud knock at your window, and you see Seungcheol’s face appear.

“Yn, please just come out. I can explain,” he begs.

You glare at Jeonghan, one that is a lot fiercer than you’ve ever given him.

“You think I’m joking about your fucking legos?” you growl, a finger pointing in his direction.

“Seungcheol’s going to beat my ass,” he whines as he starts the car.

“And I’m going to beat yours and burn down your Le—”

“I got it,” Jeonghan huffs and glances at Seungcheol apologetically.

“Jeonghan, I swear if you fucking drive off, I will—” Seungcheol growls from outside the car.

“Sorry, my grandma suddenly needs me!” Jeonghan shouts before he backs out of the spot, slowly at first so he doesn't run over Seungcheol’s feet, not that you care, then speeds out of the parking lot.

You glance in the side mirror, seeing Seungcheol still yelling as the other men watch, confused and shocked behind him. Your eyes finally tear away when they become little specks in the distance. A sigh leaves your lips as you allow your body to sag in the seat, head tilting back.

“There’s a jacket in the back if you want it,” Jeonghan says softly.

You glance back and find it folded on the seat. You grab it, draping it over your bare legs. “Thanks.”

He sighs. “Now, do you want to tell me what that was about?”

“Seungcheol’s an asshole.”

Your reply is curt. You think that’s a good enough reason to leave him in the dust.

“Okay,” Jeonghan answers slowly, “but that was a pretty big fight you two had.”

“Seungcheol’s a really big asshole,” you correct.

Jeonghan chuckles lightly. “Alright. Then explain your attire.”

“Dae puked on me last night; Seungcheol let me borrow clothes.”

“He didn’t give you pants?”

“He did,” you trail off. You don’t want to tell him you just didn’t put them on again this morning. How would you explain how they got discarded in the first place?

He’s silent for a moment, trying to put the puzzle together himself.

“Where’s Dae?” he wonders. You’re grateful he decides to let it go.

“Probably at home by now… Can you drop me off there?” you ask. You can’t go home dressed the way you are. Dae will probably be sleeping, as she told you, but a few loud knocks should wake her up.

“Sure. What’s the address?”

You inform him quickly then glance out the window. The sun is shining and the clouds are out. You can’t remember how it feels outside since you were only focused on getting out of there.

Jeonghan doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, letting the sound of the car on the road fill the empty space.

“Whatever Seungcheol did, I hope he can fix it. I know he cares about you,” Jeonghan comments.

Your gaze drops down to your lap. The hoodie you wear comes back into view. You hate how you can still smell him.

“I don’t think he can,” you reply.

Your mind goes back to what he said to you. Anger was the only emotion fueling you at the time, but now that you’re settling down and your mind is becoming clearer, several emotions creep into your chest.

Betrayal. Distress. Crestfallen.

Jeonghan releases a small breath. “That bad?”

“Yeah, Jeonghan. He really messed up.”

The ride is quiet now. While you are grateful, you actually wish Jeonghan kept talking. At least then, you would be distracted from your thoughts.

Seungcheol was just holding you tenderly hours ago. Your body tingles at the mere memory of his gentle touch. He was acting so sweet toward you. For those blissful hours, you felt like you were his. Was he acting? Had he wanted you for different reasons?

Tears prick at your eyes, but you blink them back. You don’t want to cry in front of Jeonghan. You refuse to.

When you arrive, Jeonghan parks the car and gets out of the vehicle. He comes around to your door and opens it, holding out a hand. For a moment, you imagined his hand is Seungcheol’s. He would always open your door and help you out.

“You don’t have to walk me there,” you say, words mimicking what you’ve told Seungcheol before in the past.

“You’re barely dressed. I’m not risking anything,” he replies. His light, cheerful voice is stern now, and you know he isn’t going to change his mind.

People stare at you strangely in the elevator, but when they peer up at Jeonghan, who stands behind you—something about you hiding your front and him your back—they quickly avert their gaze.

It takes four loud bangs on her door until Dae opens it. Her half-lidded eyes open quickly at your state.

“Am I drunk again? Why does Seungcheol look like Jeonghan?” she asks.

“You’re not drunk. It is Jeonghan,” you reply, then turn to him. “Thank you for driving. I really appreciate it.”

You hope the sincerity in your words is conveyed with your tone. Given the non-cocky smile on his face, you know he understands.

“Even though I’m friends with Seungcheol, know I’m your friend too, Yn. If you need me, you have my number,” Jeonghan says.

You’re not sure if you will ever take him up on his offer since it’s unclear where his loyalties lie between you and Seungcheol, but his intentions are kind, and you’re grateful nonetheless. He starts to walk away but you reach out to stop him.

“Wait,” you quickly say. You pull a set of keys from the hoodie’s pocket. “Give these back to Seungcheol for me? Or toss them in a lake, I don’t care, but take them, please.”

Dread fills Jeonghan’s face when he notices what they’re for. He reluctantly takes the keys from your hand.

“He’s really going to kill me now.”

Luckily for both you and Jeonghan, Seungcheol does not murder him.

For him, it means he has another day to finish his Lego tower. For you, it means he can finish those flyers he promised you.

“There should be twenty-five in there,” Minghao says while pointing to the stack of papers in your hands.

Minghao and Jeonghan completed the flyers for your show, and you are at the latter’s apartment to pick them up. You flip through them quickly—having already seen mock-ups earlier. There are six of each element plus one extra to turn into Dr. Lim.

“These look great, guys,” you say as you finish looking at them again.

“Thanks,” Jeonghan says. “You need help putting them up?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “You’re really offering to help more?”

“You’re not that bad to work with,” Minghao chuckles, standing from his seat to grab his bag. He came to see if you needed anything else before his class.

“Speak for yourself, Hao—Ow!”

Jeonghan whines when you smack his arm with the flyers.

“Kidding, Yn,” he grumbles, “but yes, we will help you. You’re our friend.”

Their friend.

After years of just having Dae, it’s odd to think you actually have more friends—a lot of them, for that matter. It’s not like you gained two new friends this semester. No, you gained thirteen. Fourteen, if you count Seungcheol, but is he really a friend? Do friends make your heart soar with just a glance? Are friends able to take your heart and leave you feeling like an empty husk? It doesn’t matter now. He isn’t in your life. If he was your friend then, he isn’t anymore.

“If you leave some here, we’ll hang them up later,” Minghao instructs.

You gaze at him, letting yourself focus on what is happening now. You can sorrow in the privacy of your four walls later.

Sighing, you nod and sort a few flyers out from the stack. You place them on Jeonghan’s coffee table.

“Thanks. Just let me know which buildings you put them up in,” you say. “It’ll just save me time in the future.”

“No problem. Well, I’m glad you like them! I should get going before I’m late,” Minghao replies with a small smile on his face. He gives you both a wave before exiting the apartment.

Once Minghao is gone, Jeonghan looks at you. “What are the plans today?”

You shrug. It probably will consist of finishing bringing your designs to life or maybe taking Seoah to get something to eat. Anything to keep yourself busy from your mind.

“Not sure yet,” you reply.

“You know, I’m kind of hurt you didn’t ask me to be one of your models,” Jeonghan says with a playful smile. “Mingyu’s overrated.”

You laugh lightly, rolling your eyes at his latter comment. “Mingyu has the face and body of a model. You…?”

You trail off as your eyes glide down his body teasingly. Jeonghan sits up when he sees what you’re doing, trying to pose nonchalantly.

“Mingyu doesn’t have this hair, though,” Jeonghan comments. His semi-long locks are tied in a half-up-half-down style. It looks good, but you aren’t going to admit that to him.

“True, and thank goodness for that.”

“Hey!”

You laugh at his reaction. “I just didn’t want to overbook you,” you finally explain. “You were already helping me with these flyers.”

“That’s thoughtful of you,” he answers.

“Don’t get used to it,” you huff and start picking up your purse. It’s getting late, and there’s no reason to stay longer.

“Wait, I have something for you,” Jeonghan rushes.

“I already have the flyers,” you say and gesture to the stack.

He smiles, shaking his head as he stands. “Something else.”

You watch as he jogs to his room. There are sounds of things moving around before Jeonghan yells for you to close your eyes. After arguing for a second, you finally relent.

“Are they closed?” he asks from his room.

“They’re not about to be if you take any longer,” you grumble.

You listen to his footsteps become louder as he approaches. Suddenly something is set in your lap.

When Jeonghan instructs you to open your eyes, you peep down to see a bag. Jeonghan gestures to it when you don't open it right away. Hesitantly, you reach inside.

Your hands meet something textured, and you grip it gently to pull it out.

“H-how’d you get this?” you ask slowly. Your wide eyes don’t mask the surprise you feel upon seeing the fabric you had been wanting to get so badly a few weeks ago. However, instead of navy blue, it’s red.

Jeonghan shrugs and watches you nervously. “Do you like it?”

“I—” you start but for once, you are out of words.

You lay the fabric over your lap as you admire the sheerness, small specks of glitter scattering across the surface. You aren’t able to use it as you originally planned since you’ve already adjusted the design to not use the fabric, and it’s also the wrong color. Regardless, it’s too beautiful to not use in some way.

You are about to thank him when you remember the cost. It isn’t the same color, but it’s the same design and brand, which means it’s probably just as expensive.

“This was a lot of money,” you state and glance up at Jeonghan. His eyes are roaming around the room then moving to look at you when you speak. “You shouldn’t have bought this.”

Jeonghan smiles, albeit a little bittersweet for a reason you aren’t sure of. “We do a lot of things we shouldn’t when we like someone.”

“Is that your way of saying you like me?” you wonder, folding the fabric to place in the bag again. You mean “like” in a platonic way and hope Jeonghan understands this.

“I do,” he chuckles lightly. “You put up a tough front, but you’re not too bad of a friend.”

Your smile is small at his response. Glad you don’t have to have an awkward conversation about which version of “like” you mean.

“Too bad?” you tease and stand up, your bag and purse on your arm.

Jeonghan tilts his head. “You did threaten to burn my Legos three weeks ago. That wasn’t very friendly.”

“Just imagine that I said that lovingly,” you answer, forcing the memory of that day from your mind. Although you know it won’t be that easy since it already keeps resurfacing.

“Right,” he responds, dragging out the word in a knowing smile. He walks you to the door when he sees you’re ready to leave. He opens the door, watching as you step out with his head resting against the side of the frame.

“Jeonghan?” you say after taking a few steps away. You turn to look at him. He wears that same bittersweet smile on his lips from earlier.

“Yn,” he responds.

“Thank you for… for the fabric. That was very kind of you, and I—” you pause as you try to voice your truest thoughts. It still doesn’t come easy, but you want him to know how grateful you are. “I don’t know if I deserved it.”

“I think you deserve more, but that can be a topic for another day. Get home safely, Yn,” Jeonghan replies as he lifts his head from the door.

You stay still for a moment. His words register in your head slowly while you stare at him. You’ve experienced Jeonghan being nice to you despite his constant jokes, but he’s never said anything on this level before. There is a moment where you think he is lying to you, but even though Jeonghan is playful, you don’t think he would lie to you—especially not now.

You bid farewell to Jeonghan once you collect yourself.

You’re not sure if that day he speaks about will ever come, but you are content with just knowing he thinks highly of you.

Home is better.

Still not Hallmark-perfect, but better. As expected, your mother leaves for another trip somewhere. She stops by, and to your surprise, your father lets her talk to you and Seoah. For once, there is no screaming. No yelling. No hostile attitude from either of your parents. It’s odd yet refreshing.

Your mother apologizes for not always being there for you and your sister. She says she will message you both when she has time. You nod, but you don’t believe her. She has given you the “promise message” before, and it never happened.

Additionally, if she is truly sorry, she wouldn’t keep leaving when she has a family here. Perhaps that’s a selfish thought, but it doesn’t matter. It won’t make a difference. You’re not sure when or if you’ll see her again. It’s clear she isn’t allowed to stay here if she comes back. Visiting is fine, but that’s all. Despite it all, you wish you are able to see her in the future.

Your father began attending dinners after your mother left. He reasons it’s time to start being more like a family again. You bite your tongue when you want to say he never was part of it to begin with.

The first night together is awkward. Seoah breaks the tension eventually, but it always reverts back to crickets. After a while, your father starts to make small talk.

How was your day? Is your homework going fine? Are classes hard?

You never are one for small talk, but at least he is trying.

Though he only tries during dinner. As always, he stays inside his office the majority of the day. It’s like nothing changes until it becomes dinner time. Then you are a family. Once that is over, it goes back to normal.

You tell yourself it’s just baby steps, which is better than no steps at all.

“So, Savannah ate her homework as a… dare?” your dad asks at dinner one night.

“No!” Seoah sighs, having tried to get your dad to understand her story for the past five minutes. “It’s because she’s crazy!”

“But I don’t understand why she would do that willingly,” your father replies. He has food on his fork, but it’s paused in mid-air, completely appalled by his daughter’s story.

“No one really knows. The point is she’s insane,” Seoah says.

“And she did this in front of her teacher?”

“She did it in class, so I supposed you could say that. At least she ate the homework that was already graded,” she huffs before stuffing her cheeks full.

“Yes, at least it was graded,” your dad agrees slowly as if he is still processing the story. He then turns to you.

“How’s Dae?”

He finally takes a bite while waiting for your response.

“She’s fine. We’re already done with our projects finally,” you answer.

“Ooh, I’m excited to see them! Dad and I are coming, you know?” Seoah says with a bright smile.

“I know,” you reply, trying to hide the grin that wants to show. You were a little shocked when they first told you they had gotten tickets. Even though you were secretly hoping they would come, you didn’t want to expect it. After all, it would be less disappointing if they didn’t come when your expectations were already low. It’s not that they don’t support you, but with everything going on, you weren’t sure if either of them had the time.

“Are your other friends going too?” asks your father.

Your gaze drops to your lap as you recall the conversation with Mingyu, Seungkwan, and Wonwoo. Seungcheol planned to get his friends—now your friends as well—to come to the show; however, you haven’t spoken to him since that weekend. You don’t know if any of them are coming now that Seungcheol most likely isn’t organizing his “surprise” anymore.

“I’m not sure,” you answer as you roll your shoulders back, sitting up straighter. No reason to be sad over it. You don’t need to be upset about losing someone who looks down on you. If anything, you should be glad you’re not talking to him. Your life is better now. Less drama.

At least that’s what’s been repeating in your head.

“What about that one boy? The one who came here? Seungch—”

“Shh!” Seoah gasps and puts her hand out to stop him. “You’re not supposed to talk about him in this house anymore.”

“W-what? Why not? He was very nice,” your father says. He glances between the both of you puzzled.

They always start that way, huh?

“They’re not talking anymore,” Seoah whispers, but you can hear it clearly.

“Oh,” your dad says and then looks at you with a sympathetic expression. It has you wincing internally. You don’t need his pity. “I’m sorry to hear that, honey. I’m sure he meant a lot to you.”

His words fish out all those thoughts you tried to drown. You aren’t about to spiral in front of your family.

“I’m going to work on my project more. Final adjustments and whatnot. Seoah, do you mind doing the dishes tonight?” you ask as you push your chair back.

“Only because you’re sad,” she replies.

Sighing, you grab your dishes, and place them in the sink.

Before you leave, you mumble, “I’m not sad.”

Seoah makes a sound to let you know she doesn’t believe you but doesn’t bug you about it.

“Way to go, Dad,” you hear her grumble as you’re leaving.

Shutting your bedroom door is akin to shutting off the lights in the world. It transports you to a place only you’re allowed in. A place where you are able to feel everything you have been keeping under lock and key.

As soon as you hear the familiar click of your door, you feel your knees buckle.

You stagger to your bed and let your body flop onto the mattress. There’s an influx of the thoughts and feelings you had repressed.

Four weeks.

It’s been nearly four weeks since you last saw him. Heard his voice. At least not in conversations.

The first few days after that weekend, you ran into him on campus. Well, more like he found you. He’d call your name; he’d tell you he was sorry and ask for you to listen to him. Though each time, you ignored him. You went the other way and never said a word to him. Eventually, he stopped trying. He stopped finding you. He stopped calling your name. The frequent texts he would send stopped too. Soon, you were truly left with just a memory of him.

You should be glad.

You should be relieved he stopped because each time you saw him, you had the temptation to actually listen to him. To hear his side because you don’t want to believe he had said those things in his apartment. However, that will never happen now. Even if you want it to, you aren’t going to crawl back to him after all this time.

The picture you had taken of both of you is still in your photo gallery. You deleted it when you accidentally stumbled upon it a few days after the fight. Pained at even the sight of him, your finger had hit the trash icon quickly. Despite that, you ended up recovering the photo a few hours later because part of you wasn’t ready to erase him from your life completely.

The words your dad said linger in your mind.

I’m sure he meant a lot to you.

Had he?

In the few months you got to know him, had he really made himself a home in your heart? Perhaps if you say no, you will stop feeling like there is a void in your chest.

The weeks went by quickly. It wasn’t like in the movies or books where the heartbroken character felt their life was moving in slow motion. First, you weren’t heartbroken. Second, you had so much to do regarding your project you didn’t have time to think about him.

A part of your mind told you that working nonstop was your way of coping, but coping with what? What you lost wasn’t meaningful…

He wasn’t meaningful.

Yet as you let that thought roll around your mind, the more your chest feels heavy. The more your vision becomes blurry. The more your body feels weak.

The more you feel suffocated.

Suffocated by the thoughts gripping you and trying to shake you into realization.

Seungcheol had meant something to you. The extent is unknown, but if you were to ever tell someone how much your heart was aching, they would probably say he meant a great deal to you. Though if you allow yourself to agree, it will only cause more pain. So for now, you are fine being in denial.

You close your eyes as you inhale slowly. You hold your breath for a few seconds and then exhale gradually. You repeat this until you start to feel like you can breathe properly.

Images of him appear uninvitingly in the darkness—from when you first opened Jeonghan’s door to see him instead of Minghao then to waking up in his arms while laying in his bed.

It shouldn’t have come to this point. He wasn’t even helping with your project, yet you felt as if you saw him more than anyone else volunteering.

In the recesses of your mind, you can feel his gentle touch on your skin. You recall the moments you had together, but more strongly, you remember the way you felt when you were around him. Your chest would tighten any time he smiled or laughed. Such simple actions had you feeling so joyful. Even more so if you were the reason behind the actions.

Then you think back to his apartment—before that phone call with Dae. The way you both held each other so tenderly during such an intimate moment. It had you feeling a sort of love you haven’t felt before. You think back to how content you were waking up in his arms. The glimpse of what your life could be like if you were his in his home.

You don’t know how you got here. You don’t know when you started falling for him. You don’t know when the tears started to roll down your cheeks. For the first time since the argument, you let your emotions flow freely.

You can’t believe you’re wasting tears over a guy you met this semester. Though, maybe you're just crying over the fact you no longer feel those feelings anymore. The feeling of being cared for, thought of, loved… Even if neither of you had said that word to the other, it doesn’t take away the feeling of being cherished. Maybe you don’t feel in love, but you could see yourself getting to that point if that argument never transpired. Although his words hurt then, they sting ten times worse now.

Your mind is filled to the brim with thoughts of him. It’s taking such a toll on you that you eventually fall asleep reflecting on your relationship with Seungcheol, dried tear streaks painting your cheeks.

“Mingyu, stop playing around,” you scold for the third time.

Mingyu stops dancing, peering down at you to give you another teasing grin. Perhaps you would’ve found it amusing if you weren’t under a time crunch.

“God, what a shit show,” you hear someone giggle behind you.

You dismiss the voice, knowing it’s probably Tori or Siwon. You only have a limited time to do your dress rehearsal before it’s another student’s turn.

“Worry about your own show, ladies,” Mingyu says above you, voice so stern it has you looking at him a little surprised.

“You never know when something bad might happen during your section in the show,” Jeonghan adds. Although his responsibility for the show is already done, he whined to join you today. Something about being bored and needing something to do. You had said no, but you couldn’t really stop him from following you to the theatre.

You turn around to see Tori and Siwon. They have their bags on their arms, ready to leave since they finished their rehearsals before you.

“Is that a threat?” Siwon gasps.

Jeonghan smiles that not-so-innocent grin and shrugs. “No, but it’s just a general comment. Anything can happen.”

Tori scoffs and then looks at you. “If I find out you’re tampering with other students’ projects, I’m going to tell Dr. Lim so you’ll flunk.”

“As if I need to sabotage your stage,” you reply. “You’ll do that yourself.”

“Oooh,” Jeonghan chuckles, bringing a hand to his mouth for dramatic effect. You shake your head at his reaction, but there is a tiny part of you where you’re pleased.

“You better watch yourself, Yn,” Tori warns.

You smile. “Oh, I will. After all, why would I watch your shit show?”

“You’re—”

“Tori, Siwon, please let Yn get back to her work. Yn, you should be focusing on your fittings and makeup. Not talking,” Dr. Lim instructs as he walks into the backstage room.

Tori and Siwon quickly apologize before they hurry out.

“Yn,” Dr. Lim calls to get your attention. You tear your gaze from your two peers to look at him.

“I heard you, Dr. Lim. I’ll be done before my time ends,” you say.

He gives you a tight-lipped smile before leaving you.

“Sorry,” Mingyu mumbles once they all leave. You exhale gradually and gesture for him to lean down.

“It’s fine, Gyu,” you answer. You quickly fix his hair, then turn him around to show one of the students you selected to help with hair and makeup. “Like this, okay?”

The student nods, taking notes and pictures as they observe the simple style. You want the focus to be on the clothes rather than fancy hair-dos.

You attend to your other models and stylists, making sure the clothes fit well and that the stylists understand what you want them all to look like. You had met with Seokmin earlier to go over the music. It’s pretty simplistic since it’s just one track, but you still want to make sure things go smoothly from all aspects.

Luckily, you finish within your time slot. Mingyu and Jeonghan trail behind you as you exit the building, talking amongst themselves. You figure they’ll go their separate ways once you are done, but nope. You act as if it bothers you, but you kinda like the company. You’ve been so focused on finishing the project that you haven’t had the chance to hang out with many people. If you did, it was only to discuss the final details.

Now that the show is around the corner, you let yourself breathe for a little.

“I don’t need you to pay for me,” you tell Jeonghan when it’s your turn to purchase your drink at the register.

“Think of it as a thank you for letting me tag along today,” he answers and starts to lower his card to the payment device. However, you quickly snatch it from his grip.

“Aye,” he drags out in a whine.

“I said n—”

“Done,” Mingyu cuts in. Your eyes flicker to him, then down at his hand. He just paid for your drink. He gives you a cheeky grin before ordering for Jeonghan and himself.

“Kim Mingyu, you’re a little shi—”

“Shining star,” he finishes for you as he pays for his order. He guides you and Jeonghan from the line to the end counter as you wait for your orders. His mouth is spread into a wide, confident smile.

Jeonghan laughs at Mingyu’s answer, but you simply glower at the taller man.

“Come on, that was good,” Mingyu pouts when you don’t say anything. He gives your shoulder a poke, trying to get you to agree.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you announce instead, walking away before either of them can answer.

After you’re done, you walk out with your phone in hand to check on Dae who has her rehearsal after you.

You are typing your message when you hear something fall to the floor. Glancing down, you notice a stray pen.

“Think you can pick that up for me, princess?” a familiar voice asks.

You’ve heard the intolerable voice enough times to know who it is without looking up. Regardless, your eyes lift to see Hajun.

You notice a change in her appearance. Her outfit is less boring than it normally is. You think she has dressed up for a class assignment, but the attire isn’t professional-like. After all the shit she’s given you for dressing “over the top,” she sure is heading down the same path.

You grit your teeth in order to stop the snide remark you want to make.

“Well?” she prompts smugly.

Two options run through your head. The first option is to stomp on the pen with your heel until you hear a satisfying crunch from breaking it. The second is to slam the pen down in her open palm—tip facing downward.

Instead, you chose the safer option. You step over the object and continue your way back to your friends; your text to Dae forgotten.

“Can’t even help a person out by doing a simple task?” Hajun asks. You pause in your steps to look over your shoulder.

“You’re a big girl and fully capable. I’m sure you can solve your own problem,” you reply.

“Bitch,” she mutters under her breath, but it’s loud enough for you to hear. As if that word is meant to make you cry.

Turning around again, you say, “Ditto.”

It isn’t anything rude, but you’re done dealing with her. Nothing is ever going to change, and there is no reason for you to put up with her bullshit.

“That’s why he left you,” she calls out after a few steps. You hear her footsteps near slowly as yours still once more. You know she just wants your attention, but you can’t help but give it to her.

“He realized you were nothing but a slut who needed something between her legs to be satisfied.”

You stay silent for once as you listen to her words. You don’t need to hear his name to know who “he” is. Your gaze lowers as she stands behind you. Your heart rate is increasing as a mix of emotions courses through you, somewhere between fury and sorrow.

“Is he just one more check mark off your list?” she wonders. “He told us about how pathetic you were at his place. He said he needed a way to get you to leave him alone.”

“Are you sure he didn’t say that about you?” you ask and finally, turn to look at her. Despite your words, she smiles at you cunningly.

Ignoring your question, she continues with her high-horse speech.

“It’s a shame you had him so wrapped around your finger. I told him you weren’t worth it,” she tsks sadly.

You’re not sure why you stand there as she belittles you. Maybe in some sick way, you want to hear every bad thing she has to say about you. Let her get everything off her chest while she can. Not that you need to give her that opportunity. She doesn’t deserve an ego lift.

“I was right, though. He said you were one of the worst fucks he’s ever had,” she giggles. “Truly not worth the chase you were giving. I’m sure everyone you’ve had sex with feels the same. Eventually, they’ll stop chasing someone so worthless.”

The sorrow you felt earlier is overcome by anger. It doesn’t help that she’s staring at you with a Cheshire cat smile that makes you want to slap it off her face. Your hands fist at your sides at the thought. However, before the temptation takes over fully, someone calls your name.

Jeonghan stands at the end of the hall, a drink in each of his hands.

You glance back to Hajun.

She simply shrugs, not bothered by being interrupted. You doubt that’s all she has to say, but for now, it will do. She had gotten under your skin. You should have walked away.

“He’ll stop chasing you soon, too,” she tells you quietly before moving around you and toward Jeonghan.

“Hi Hannie!” she greets cheerfully. You watch as he smiles at her and tells her hello.

Unfortunately, the hallway to the bathrooms is a dead end, and the only way to leave is past Jeonghan and Hajun.

“Is she okay? What’s taking so long?” Mingyu questions as he rounds the corner. Following closely behind him is Seungcheol.

Seeing him should be like seeing a poster on the wall—one glance and move on. Yet, your gaze catches his, and your heart starts to break away from the bandaids you placed on it. Scattered memories of the argument flash before your eyes, yet between those snip-bits are memories of you in his soothing embrace. You can’t help but yearn to feel that one more time.

Besides looking tired, he seems fine. He must have known you were here since he didn’t seem surprised to see you. That, or he simply doesn’t care. The latter is difficult to bear.

Your feet want to move. You want to run and escape the situation you’re put in, but you can’t leave. You just need them to go so you don't have to walk past them.

“Hey,” Jeonghan calls out gently as he takes a few steps forward. He hands the drinks to Mingyu, who has to juggle a little to hold them, before walking toward you.

He gently moves your face so you aren’t looking at Seungcheol anymore.

“Did something happen?” he asks lowly so no one can hear.

“I just need to get out of here,” you mumble, casting your eyes down from his worried one.

“Okay,” he says unhesitantly. “Let’s go then.”

He hooks his arm in yours and starts walking toward the end of the hallway, forcing you to follow him.

“What about your drinks?” Mingyu asks when you both walk past and in the direction of the exit.

“Keep them,” Jeonghan replies, slowing his steps but never stopping fully. You keep your gaze away as he answers. “You paid for them anyway.”

“But—”

“We’ll take them. Here, Cheollie,” you hear Hajun say as you leave.

The air outside feels heavenly.

You inhale deeply, letting yourself breathe after feeling like you couldn’t for the longest time. You’re not sure what you’re more affected by—hearing what Seungcheol had said about you or seeing him for the first time in a long time.

You should let her words flow from one ear and out the other, but some things she said already planted themselves in your mind. And of course, you water those seeds until they sprout to consume your thoughts.

Were you not worth it to Seungcheol to fight harder for you? Not just after the argument but before. His lack of loyalty to you was always an issue with him. You didn’t care if he had a project with Hajun and the others. You didn’t care if he knew them for longer. You were tired of not being his first. You had always split that position with Hajun. At least that’s what you felt. Maybe he kept her around for reasons he didn’t disclose. Even then, how much did she mean to him?

Loud footsteps sound behind you quickly. Before you can fully turn back to see who or what is emitting the noise, a hand is on the arm Jeonghan isn’t holding.

“Yn,” Seungcheol rasps, eyes wide and pleading.

Jeonghan stops in his tracks as he flickers his gaze between you both.

“Maybe another time, Seungcheol,” he says gently, so as to not offend him.

“Let’s let her decide that,” Seungcheol responds, his jaw clenching slightly as he gives a warning glare in his direction. You don’t like the expression he gives Jeonghan.

Even though his hand awakens sleeping butterflies in your stomach, you move it from you—catching his attention. His firm features immediately soften.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

You want to say yes, but after hearing Hajun’s words from earlier, you’re not sure if you want to anymore. He’s allowed to speak to his friends about whatever he wants, but you had hoped he would’ve done so respectfully.

“Depends,” you answer. “Are you going to go twist my words to your friends?”

His eyebrows push together. “What are you talking about? I wouldn’t do that.”

“And I wouldn’t use a needle to sew,” you reply sarcastically.

“Seriously, Cherry. Let’s go somewhere private and talk. Please?” he says, eyes glancing up at Jeonghan who still stands next to you.

Hearing that nickname after so long makes your brain short-circuit. You’re a little surprised that he used it since you aren’t on speaking terms. Nicknames are normally reserved for friends… Does he think you’re still friends with him? That’d be sad if he did considering how he treated you before.

“I’ve heard everything I needed to hear,” you argue.

“No, you haven’t,” he sighs. His eyes move to see Mingyu and Hajun leaving the building. It’s not going to be long until they catch up.

“Do you plan to whisper sweet nothings in my ear until I forgive you?” you question with venom.

“No, I—”

“One day, you’ll see my clothes in a shopping window and think, ‘Wow. How did I ever sleep with someone so out of my league?’” you hiss out, narrow eyes locking on his.

“Instead of your clothes, he’ll see a used napkin in the wind and think, ‘Wow. I should’ve pushed her out of my life sooner,’” you hear Hajun's voice before you can see her.

Seeing Hajun next to Seungcheol reminds you of all the problems you have with him. Even though you did miss him, you don’t miss this—feeling like you are getting ganged up on while Seungcheol stands there and does nothi—

“Be quiet, Hajun,” Seungcheol snaps. “I’m tired of you getting in my business.”

His aggressive tone takes everyone by surprise.

You never heard him like this; not to you, not to anyone. It’s a whole new Seungcheol you have yet to discover. One you don’t want to be on the receiving end of. You can only imagine how Hajun is feeling.

“W-what? But I’m only trying to help,” she sputters, trying not to look as startled as she probably feels. It seems it’s her first time seeing this Seungcheol, too.

“Did I ever ask for your help? For fuck’s sake, just stop bothering Yn.”

Hajun’s eyes widen like saucers, mouth opening slightly at his words. You watch the scene before you. Your expression is probably the same as Hajun’s.

She looks at you, shock turning into irritation.

“You said something to him, didn’t you?” she accuses. That pulls you from your surprised daze.

Rolling your eyes, you answer with a forced smile, “Ah, yes, I bewitched him so he’d tell you to fuck off. Isn’t that right, Cheollie?”

You glance up at him when using the nickname, eyelashes batting obnoxiously.

“Cherry,” Seungcheol scolds lightly with a groan, hand coming up to rub at his temples.

“Who the hell is Cherry?” Hajun questions, miffed.

“What did I say, Hajun?” Seungcheol responds instead. “Stop talking shit about Yn. Stop trying to fight her.”

Hajun scoffs. “If anything, she’s trying to fight me!”

“And I’ll win, too,” you comment under your breath, causing Jeonghan to yank on your arm slightly with a shake of his head. You forgot he’s here.

“What did you just say, bitch?” Hajun asks you. You open your mouth to repeat what you said, but Seungcheol’s voice interrupts you.

“Leave, Hajun,” he says and stares at her. Even though it isn’t directed at you, you can tell how intimidating it is.

“You’re really going to let her control you, Seungcheol?!” she exasperates, almost desperately.

“Now,” he demands.

Hajun’s mouth opens again, but nothing comes out. She glances at Mingyu and Jeonghan as if they will say something; however, neither of them does. With one last look at Seungcheol, she spins on her heels and walks away.

You all watch her for a few seconds. The awkward silence is starting to make you feel uncomfortable.

“She could’ve at least taken the drinks,” Mingyu says, trying to break the tense atmosphere. You peer at him to see he has all the drinks again.

Seungcheol disregards him to speak to you. His voice has lost that firmness to it. “Yn, just five minutes.”

You still want to say no, yet, this is your chance to listen to him without having to appear desperate for closure. Perhaps you can finally get him out of your mind if you agree.

“Fine,” you yield and glance at Jeonghan.

“I’ll wait here with Mingyu,” he informs. You would have told him it was fine, but after rejecting Dae’s offer to pick you up at Seungcheol’s that day, you want to have someone to turn to in case this conversation ends like the last.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

Seungcheol guides you both to sit on a bench nearby. You sit on opposite ends with your hands in your lap.

“I’m sorry” is the first thing he says as you get settled. He tucks his hands in his hoodie’s pocket, reminding you you still have to return the one you have someday.

His back leans against the bench while he shifts his eyes on you. “I’m sorry for the awful things I said. I don’t think you’ve slept with everyone on campus, and I don’t agree with what Hajun and Hana have said about you.”

You rub your lips together, staring at him at first but then averting. The events of that day come to the forefront of your mind. Though they’ve never been far from it to begin with. You wonder if you overreacted at the time, but you’re so emotionally involved with him it’s hard to tell. No doubt his words stung; especially after engaging in such vulnerable moments with him and slipping into that fantasy life you had created for the both of you. All for it all to evaporate with what? A so-called joke?

“You don’t have to forgive me right now, or ever, but I would still like to talk to you… to try to get back to where we were before I fucked up,” he continues when you remain quiet.

Your first response in your head is no, that won’t be possible. You just want to move on. But that answer spurs from having your defensive walls around you. What if you get close like before, only for something else to tear you apart?

Sighing, you begin playing with the end of your clothes.

“What did you tell Hajun?” you ask in lieu of answering his silent question.

Seungcheol tilts his head at the sudden topic change. “I told her to leave you alone.”

“No,” you shake your head and look at him. “What did you tell her after that day?”

He’s silent for a moment as he digs around his thoughts for an answer.

“I didn’t tell her anything. She just asked where you were,” he replies.

The look on your face conveys your disbelief.

“You didn’t tell her we had sex?” you asked.

“W-what? No. There was no reason to,” he says. You can see the shock on his face from your question.

“Then how does she know?”

“Does she?” he asks.

“Yes.”

Seungcheol ponders on the information. “Well, she did ask as a joke, but I didn’t tell her we did,” he answers.

You take a deep breath. Another joke, huh?

“Did you tell her we didn’t then?” you wonder.

He shakes his head.

“Seungcheol,” you scold while bringing a hand to your temples.

He pouts, scooting closer to lower your arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d figure it out. It wasn’t her business to know.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you concur sadly. The warmth of his hand spreads up your arm, bringing back a sense of familiarity that makes you want more but also want to pull away in fear of losing it again.

“What else did she s—”

The sound of your phone going off startles you both.

You pull away to grab it. Seoah’s name appears at the top.

“One second,” you murmur before answering and turning away.

“Yeah?” you greet.

“Are you almost home?” Seoah asks.

“No, did you need something?”

She releases a loud sigh on the other end. “Yeah. Dad’s cake. You’re going to be late.”

Shit.

You completely forgot about your father’s surprise birthday party. Seoah invited a few of his co-workers over to celebrate, and you’re supposed to pick up the cake on the way home from rehearsal. It’s going to be the first time in a while since you do anything big like this. Normally, his birthday consists of only you and Seoah singing him a happy birthday with a present.

“I’m so sorry. Look, just start without it,” you say and begin to stand. Seungcheol follows you, waiting patiently as you stay on the call.

You pull the device from your ear despite Seoah talking.

“I have to go,” you inform.

Seungcheol’s lips dip in a frown, but it quickly disappears. “Can we meet this weekend so we can talk more?”

“I can’t. I have the—”

“The show. I know,” he pauses. “I’ll be there.”

The phone call is forgotten instantly at his words. He’ll be at the show? The show you’ve been working on? You figured that would be the last place he’d be.

“Y-you will?” you stutter.

Seungcheol smiles, but it isn’t anywhere near his eyes. “We can talk the next day. I figure you’ll be busy after.”

“I-Uh… Yeah,” you reply, not sure what to say. You want to ask why and when he got the tickets. You want to know if he is being forced to go or if it’s a decision he made all on his own. Though, none of those questions come out.

“Are you even listening to me?” Seoah’s voice is loud. “Who are you with? Is it Jeonghan? Tell him to go away, so you can grab the cake.”

Seungcheol glances at the phone in your hand. His face morphs into something you can’t read, though you catch the way his jaw clenches briefly. You’re not sure if it’s because he recognizes Seoah’s voice or if it’s something she said. Regardless, you ignore it and change your focus to your sister.

“I’m on the way now, relax. You’re not cutting it at the start anyway,” you reason. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

You hang up the call before you can hear more of her complaining.

“Sorry,” you apologize as you look at Seungcheol again. He seems lost in his thoughts. It’s odd to see him this way since you feel you’re usually the one in his position.

You take a few seconds to scan his face properly. Even with his slightly visible eye bags, you find him handsome. Your fingers twitch with the desire to touch him, to feel his warm body against yours and see that smile that has you smiling back.

“Seungcheol?” you ask softly when you realize neither of you has spoken.

His eyes snap to yours. “Right,” he clears his throat. “So, the next day?”

“Okay,” you agree before you can overthink the decision. You know you need to resolve the issue in order to continue with your life—whether it’s one with him in it or not.

“We can go to that café? I can pick you up,” he offers.

Having been used to him driving around, you almost say yes, but you learned your lesson of not having your own transportation.

“It’s fine. I’ll meet you there,” you reply.

“Alright,” he says slowly, allowing you time to change your mind. When he senses that isn’t going to happen, he adds, “I’ll see you this weekend.”

“See you,” you say, gaze lingering on his for a little too long before you tear yourself away.

You find Jeonghan with Mingyu a couple of feet away. They both look up when they hear you near.

“All good?” Jeonghan wonders.

You shrug. “For now, I guess. Thanks for waiting.”

Jeonghan stands, a drink in his hand. Mingyu still has the third.

“Anytime. Do you still want that?” Jeonghan asks as he gestures to the third drink. You glance at it, shaking your head. You don’t know if it’s contaminated.

“No one’s drunk out of it,” Mingyu reassures; however, you still shake your head.

“Thanks, though. I’ll pay you back for it,” you say.

Mingyu smiles. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Still want some company to your car?” Jeonghan questions.

“That’d be nice,” you smile slightly. Jeonghan nods. After you both say goodbye to Mingyu, you lead Jeonghan in the direction of your parked car.

You haven't seen Seungcheol’s face in weeks. While seeing him again is difficult, it feels like you can breathe again. The temptation to glance back at him is strong. You want to see him again.

And so you do.

Only to find his eyes already locked on you.

Something about his look captivates your attention. His expression isn’t settled in a set emotion; it ranges from longing to worry to hope. Jeonghan guides you down the sidewalk, talking about something you don’t know. It’s not until you turn a corner that you’re forced to break your gaze due to a building obstructing your view.

You’re anxious about this weekend and unsure how your life will change. The fashion show is a big deal for you, but so is Seungcheol. It’s nerve-wracking to not know how everything will end.

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

A/N: Next chapter will be the last one in the series! Ahhhhhvfjsnbfgkvkd

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

taglist: @iammisstora, @christinewithluv, @lithelust, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @yoozuku, @lockburn-castle, @mystikhal-blog, @oncloudvii23 (cant tag :c), @cheolcherries, @mingyublues, @maknae00, @morklee02, @kittyhui, @comounlunar(cant tag :c), @minhui896, @doom-fics

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

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slightly-crimson-tornado · 1 month

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Got tagged by @the-red-butterfly

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 25, which surprised me, thought it would be less.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 236,265.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Mostly Spider-Man, DC (A world's finest AU), Star Wars, God of War.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

(1) Keep my mother's name out of your mouth (395) World's Finest AU

(2) Crossed paths (255) Spider-Man

(3) Gods of war and large serpents (182) God of War

(4) The Familiar Face Of A Stranger (163) MCU

(5) A boy and his mother (160) God of War

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes, with great enthusiasm. I love feedback; it gives me such a rush knowing that someone took time out of their day to respond to my work.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Atm it would be What are we?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Good morning Kitty Its a non-stop fluff fic.

8. Do you get hate on fics? None that I can recall.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I've tried several times, but never finished any of them.

10. Do you write crossovers? No.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not as far as I know.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes. Dark Thunder

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes. Familiar Face of a Stranger was co-written with @the-red-butterfly who brought most of the drive.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship? Peter Parker x Felicia Hardy. Honourable runners up include Kratos x Freya, Clark Kent x Bruce Wayne (when both are written well), and Shoko Komi x Tadano Hitohito.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Crossed Path has been sitting unfinished for 2-3 years now. I feel bad about it but never take the time to return to it.

16. What are your writing strengths? Angst. When characters are just feeling angry or down, I can pull a lot from that and words fly onto the page.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I think I harp on a little too much when it comes to pointless details.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I think I've only done this with sign language, so not sure if that counts but I wanted to make it feel like natural dialogue while reminding the audience the character is not speaking verbally but through body language and conveying meaning through expressions + hands.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I do not honestly remember. It might be a One Piece but the fic is long gone at this point.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Not sure to be honest. I enjoy most things that I write, otherwise I wouldn't post them.

#Writing #AO3 #Spider-Man #God of War #Fics #DC Comics #World's Finest #SuperBat #WarFlower #PeterFelicia #Superman #Batman #Robin #Kratos #Freya #Atreus #Peter Parker #Felicia Hardy

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lokidokieokie · 1 year

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The Price of Deception pt 2

Summary: After discovering Loki’s failed attempt at taking over Earth, his family comes down to Earth to confront him.

Pairing: Avengers!Loki x Fem!Wife!Reader

Warning(s): angst, and uhhh more angst, I still don’t really know what else to put here

Note: Slight AU here, Loki did not die and the events of Thor did not go to the extent of the film

You take a deep breath and steel yourself for what's to come as you approach Loki's cell. The sound of your daughter’s laughter and son’s coos fading as you step into the dimly lit room, the glass door of the cell separating you and your husband from your family.

Loki looks up at you with a mixture of surprise and guardedness as you approach. “My love,” he says, his voice cautious. “What brings you here?”

Your heart aches as you look at him, the father of your children, the man you once loved with all your heart. But now, after what he's done, you're not so sure anymore.

“You know what brings me here,” you say, your voice trembling with emotion.

“Our daughter has been asking for you for months, our son doesn’t even know he has a father.” You spat; your anger that you had hidden in front of your children rising to the surface.

“And when I finally get some sort of idea of where you have been for the past five months, it’s from your brother. He randomly shows up at my front door, demanding that the children and I make haste and come to Midgard immediately.

“And me being the naïve wife I was; I assume that some sort of harm has befallen upon you, drop everything and make my way here. Only to be greeted with the fact that my husband has tried to take over an entire realm!”

The room falls into silence for a few moments; you too angry at Loki to even fathom speaking to him, and Loki--hopefully--thinking about the repercussions his actions have caused.

Loki looks down at his feet, a pained expression crossing his features. “I- I can’t fathom the pain that I have put both you and our children though,” he says softly. “And I surely know that I don’t deserve their forgiveness or your love.”

Your anger flares up again at his words. “No, Loki, you don't,” you say, your voice rising. “How could you do this to us? To our family?”

Loki looks up at you, his eyes full of remorse. “I was lost, my love,” he says, desperation in his voice. “I didn't know who I was or what I wanted. But I know now. And I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to make it right.”

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, “Didn’t know what you wanted? Were we not enough for the god of mischief? Were we not what you wanted?”

His eyes widened, “Norns, no, my love. You and the children were the only thing that kept me going. I needed to create a better life for the three of you. A life where you wouldn’t be considered the wife of a monster--one where you would be the wife of a king.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, “But that’s not what I wanted. Not what we wanted. I just wanted my husband; the children just wanted their father.”

“I realise that now, my love; and I want to make it right. Please--and I know I don’t deserve this--but please let me see the children?”

You hesitate for a moment, your heart fighting a valiant battle with your head. But then you remember your children, and they way that Freya had been begging for her father, and how Magnus always seemed to calm down when you told him tales of Loki during his youth.

You know that you can’t deprive them of this opportunity.

“I'll let them see you,” you say, your voice softening. “But you have a lot of work to do if you want to earn back our- my trust, Loki.”

Loki nods, a determined look in his eyes. “I understand,” he says. “I will do whatever it takes to earn it back.”

As you turn to leave, you hear Loki's voice calling out to you. “I love you,” he says, his voice filled with raw emotion.

Your heart aches at his words, but you know it will take more than words to heal the wounds he's inflicted. For now, you focus on your children, and the difficult road ahead of you all as a family.

A/N So, I decided that it needed to be more than 2 parts... part 3 will be up soon :)

Taglist! Everything: @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley @moonlight-ee Loki: @dryyoursaltyoceantears

#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #angst #avengers!loki #fem!reader #loki x fem!reader #loki laufeyson x fem!reader #avengers 2012 #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #marvel fanfic #avengers au

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allandoflimbo · 2 years

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I C E P R I N C E S S

Pairings: Popular Girl!Reader x Outkast!Bucky

Explicit Content - Smut - NO MINORS

w.c: 2,936

Summary: Bucky Barnes is the quiet boy who gets picked on.

The Reader and her friends run with the popular crowd at Stark High.

As the Winter Ball approaches, she is partnered with Bucky Barnes for a class project. They grow close in an inadvertently secret friendship, which later turns into love.

- Only catch is…she’s Steve Roger’s ex girlfriend, and before she was partnered up with Bucky, her friends had planned to use and turn Bucky into Stark High’s new it boy to try and get back at Steve; a disgusting bet. Another catch: She’s a figure skater at the town’s arena every Tuesday and Thursday nights. Bucky works part time at the rink resurfacing the ice. The other doesn’t know.

Modern AU High School fic - later goes into adulthood.

Warnings: This story will have a lot of angst, a lot of fluff, a lot of cursing, and a lot of sex. Oral, praise kink, body worship, overstimulation, etc. you know me. There will also be loss of virginity in this.

As each chapter is out, I’ll specify the warnings. Bucky is bullied (BUT NOT BY y/n) for a lot of this story,, so if that’s a very sensitive subject matter to you and if bully!trope isn’t your thing, please DNI.

M A S T E R P A G E - FULL SERIES

Please keep in mind that the better part of this story is teenagers in high school, they are all 18, but they are in high school so they will do a lot of stupid things and say a lot of stupid things. Teenagers are also mean and cruel. This story is a mix of fluffly romance with She’s All That.

Please support your content creators and writers and leave a review.

C H A P T E R O N E

the song y/n figure skates to in this chapter is: Lost Without You by Freya Ridings

“R E M I N D E R for all Stark High students, don’t forget this Friday is the deadline to audition for this year’s winter play, Christmas Carol. Sophomores, ice hockey varsity announcements are tomorrow morning. Meet will be at three thirty at the atrium. Seniors, the Winter Ball has been postponed to February seventh due to this year’s early snowfall cancellation—”

You slammed your locker shut, its echo lingering with your senior classmate’s feminine and sharp voice as she read the announcements.

“Speaking of, I can’t believe Steve hasn’t asked you to the dance yet.” Your friend, Carol, says from your right.

“He’s been acting like a total dick since he came back from his Europe trip with his parents.” Your other friend, Sharon, adds with an equally accusing tone.

You try to drown out their voices and comments as much as you could as you looked down at your homework that had fallen out of your math textbook from your lack of attention and your hurry to get home. Tonight was your first skate competition of the year and your nerves were already on edge. The last thing you needed was a reminder that your lousy ex, who you’d caught making out in the back seat of his car with some pretty girl named Peggy who obviously wasn’t you (and then later ran after you asking you for forgiveness), still hadn’t asked you to a school dance.

You let out a sigh as you bend down to grab the paper.

“Did you see what she was wearing?” Carol goes on. You know she’s talking about Peggy. Hers and Sharon’s voice fade out as you run a hand through you hair, exasperated.

“Hey, Bunny.” You recognize your friend Sam’s voice right away from behind you and you turn around to face him with a smile.

Your two friends greet him and he leans his right shoulder on the locker next to yours, smiling at you.

“You want me to punch his teeth in for you?” He gives you a bright smile that lights up his face.

You smile softly back, “No need, Sam.” “Come on, you’re gorgeous and the most popular girl in this school. Something’s clearly going on in that head of his.”

“I said don’t worry about it. He hurt me, yes, but we’d promise we would talk it out anyway this weekend. Please don’t touch him.”

“Wait. You and Rogers are back again?” Sam’s friend Matt says with a smirk, “My man.”

You glare at Matt.

“No. We aren’t back. We’re just going to talk.”

“Come on, Y/N, it’s you and Steve.” Sharon insists with a whine.

You roll your eyes.

“Guys, seriously. Stop.”

Matt clears his throat suddenly and your gaze goes back to him.

“Well, let me know if it doesn’t work out with whatever chit chat you two are having.” Matt says with a suggestive wink.

“Leave her alone, asswipe.” Carol says.

You know it’s all fun and games between you and your friends so you don’t pay it too much mind.

“You know what, Carol?” Matt says in a condescending tone that makes your friend glare back at him harshly.

None of you hear what he has to say next because another commotion comes from across the other side of the hallway. You turn around to follow the noise.

On the floor and on his knees is a guy picking up his books and some papers that he had dropped. You could barely make out his face since he was looking down, trying to reach for everything that he could. He wore an oversized shirt with a beige huddy and a regular pair of jeans. Some walk past him and laugh, others accidentally step on some of the papers, leaving dirty shoe marks on it.

A heavy snort comes from behind you. Matt.

“What a fucking loser.” He says and you hear Sharon chuckle.

Another boy walks past the guy on the floor, accidentally hitting with the point of his sneaker one of the notebooks on the floor that had also fallen out of the guy’s grip, making it hit the wall.

Your heart aches in your chest as you watch this guy run the bottom of his nose over his sleeve and then reach over for the notebook.

“He’s the new kid from Europe or something. He was in my AP history class this morning. A total nerd, with surprisingly no accent. I think it’s all a lie. Judging by his ugly ass outfit, probably a run away.” Carol says.

“And that uncombed hair.” Sharon adds, “I almost feel bad for him.”

“I wonder how his parents, if he even has any, affords to live in this town to go here?” Matt asks, “Maybe something happened to them. Maybe it’s why he’s on the run.” Your eyes drop at Matt’s words and you hold your homework closer to your chest.

You want to turn around and tell him to shut up and leave the guy alone. You really do. It’s on the tip of your tongue when the guy finally has all his belongings and stands up.

That’s when you see his face for the first time.

He was cute. Really cute. He had a little of a nerdy aura to him, and his hair did look a little out of place. It was short but a bit messy and untamed. If it wasn’t for the sudden red tint on his cheeks and the hurt and embarassment in his eyes as he hugged his books and notebook to his chest, you would’ve been heavily distracted by how blue his eyes were.

You felt your cheeks blush as he suddenly made eye contact with you and then suddenly looked away from your line of sight. He bit his lip and kept his eyes down as he passed by you and your friends.

Matt let out an obviously purposeful snicker as the guy walked by, making sure that whoever blue eyes was that he knew that laugh was directed at him.

Your chest felt heavy again and you turned around to face Matt. He met your eyes and when he saw the look on your face his smile dropped.

“What?” He asks.

“I’ll see you guys later.” You mumble under your breath, walking away in the opposite direction towards the hallway that led to exit of the school.

“We’ll call you later!” Sharon shouts over to you, “We’ll probably all go to Jack’s tonight!”

“I won’t make it tonight.” You shout back, already feeling the tingles in your feet.

Grip on his books tight, and eyes burning, Bucky turns the corner into the boy bathrooms. His hands are shaking when he walks into one of the stalls, closing the door shut behind him. He hastily sits down in the seat and looks down at the belongings in his laps, shaking.

He never faced this before. At his old school he was well liked, he never had an issue like the one he has here. Back home in New York City when he was little, he had his group of friends and his mom was still healthy. When he was a little boy, things were easier. Things were good there. Here, people treated him differently. He was treated how he never wanted to be and what he only ever heard about.

It wasn’t until now that he learned how much it actually hurts.

He takes deep breaths as he tries to calm himself down and as he tries his best not to let the emotions get the best of him.

Kids were mean.

He’s never felt so small as he has the last few months.

He looks down at his hand and they have stopped shaking a bit.

His math textbook had a green book cover his mom had gotten him freshman year as a gift. The social studies one had a paper bag cover that his papa had helped him tape on. And the notebook had been a gift from his father. His parents who didn’t know what he went through at school, thought he had it good here, so they always tried their best to send him with good things, too. He was their happy boy. They didn’t know his harsh reality.

Bucky felt the heavy knot in his throat as he swallowed.

What had done it for him this time was Matt Murdock’s disgusting laughter as he walked past them.

He’s been in the same school with them for years, and this was the first time they ever directly looked at him.

They most likely never realized his existence until now, even though they were the most popular people in the school and claimed to know everyone.

But he had overheard one of the three princesses talk about him like he had just moved there and that he looked cheap and like a loser.

He couldn’t help but look up for one second after that just to see what them realizing he’s an actual person looked like, and that’s when he met one of the princesses’ eyes. He saw the one thing he hadn’t seen in a while; pity.

He didn’t like it. Especially from a Stark High Princess.

With a deep breath he finally wiped his nose and walked back out of the bathroom.

He had a long night.

You’re shaking as you throw your jacket over your light blue leotard. Even though you’ve been doing this since you were six and you’ve been practicing for this specific routine for weeks on end, you were terrified. You always had issues with anxiety.

You quickly opened and closed your hands, making your way out of the locker room and following the loud arena music.

Your trainer and your parents were both waiting for you as you came around to your assigned side. You let out a long breath of air after hugging them and you tied on your skates.

For about forty-five minutes, you watched the other performers, and your nerves only piled on top of each other. Your trainer looked at your left leg as it bounced up and down uncontrollably.

You win this competition and you would finally be on your way to the finals.

Suddenly, and way too soon, you were asked if you were ready.

“Do you have your cell phone?”

“Yes, mom.”

“Where are you going again?”

Bucky sighed as he put on his black beanie and zipped up his black Northface jacket. Still standing in the foyer, he took a deep breath before stepping back into the living area.

His mother sat on her usual spot on the side chair watching 8 Simple Rules, one of her favorite shows. Her hair was tied into a little pony tail and her nasal cannula was snug on her face. Ten years fighting a very rare diagnosis of middle aged cystic fibrosis, and it still pained him the same way.

He sighed as his heart pained for her. He put his troubles aside to focus on his precious mother. He slowly walked up to her until he was next to her and bent down. He took her hand in his and held it gently.

“I got a new part time job at the rink, remember? Just for the next few months.”

“And you’ll be back home not too late?”

Bucky gave him mom a soft smile.

“Not too late. I promise.”

She gave him a smile and a reassuring hand squeeze.

Bucky was almost out the door when his mom yelled once more.

“Don’t forget to get the milk on your way back!”

You won forty points. It was enough.

You were going to the finals.

You couldn’t believe it as your colleagues, trainer, and parents hugged you. You could still feel the feeling of the ice beneath your blades and the cool air on your cheeks and the loud music in yours ears.

It had gone perfectly.

Your mom kissed you on the cheek as she handed you a bouquet of white roses, your favorite.

“Thanks, mom.” you reached for your dad next who left you a kiss on the top of your head, “thanks, daddy.”

“You’re going to pass the finals and then go to the olympics next year. I just know you’ll make it there.”

“Dad, humble me at least a little bit, please.”

You felt the rumble of the chuckle in his chest against you.

“Never.” He says.

You meet your trainer’s eyes over your had’s arm.

Her name was Saly. She gave you a small smile.

“They are just about to go clean the ice if you want to hurry.”

You smiled.

It was tradition and you also believed it was good luck. After every skate competition, you’d pulled a rose from your bouquet, and you would leave it on the entrance gate near the ice. You believed that by doing so and then coming to get it the next day, that even though things felt different and unlike reality, and maybe even slightly like a fever dream after a win, when you came back the next day after a night of sleep and touching grass, you were reminded that all was the same, and you’d take the flower back and add it to your scrap book. It was silly, and saying it out loud probably didn’t make sense, but it made sense to you.

Only you, Saly, and your parents knew about this little thing of yours.

You hugged your jacket tighter to yourself, feeling the cold of the arena around you. Somehow, with just the leotard on, it felt warmer than it did now. Maybe it was the lack of nerves. You were content now. You felt at home.

Your eyes skimmed the beautiful ice that was waiting to be polished and you took in all the empty seats. The janitors had already cleaned it; you purposely waited for them to leave so they wouldn’t accidentally throw away your rose.

You took in a deep breath, feeling a change in the air. For the first time in a long time, you felt good about how things would go.

You pulled out your flower and smiled to yourself. One more for your book. The book that kept you grounded and ironically set in with reality - the reality that you aren’t always the winner. One day there would be no rose. You were sure of it. Your dad didn’t need to humble you because you were already your own worst enemy.

With a shaky breath, you place your flower near the small little swing door, and walked away.

You’d come back for it in the morning.

“Don’t forget the key to lock up, Barnes. I left it on the table in the office. You remember the security lock code?”

Dan, the owner of the rink, was leaving for the night.

“Yes’sir.”

“Good. Now remember, this isn’t like your rinks back at home in the big apple, you take your time, you treat it kindly. This isn’t Madison Sqaure-whatever.”

A small smile formed on Bucky’s lips.

“I know, Mr. Cross. Don’t worry, I’ll treat her nice. This isn’t my first winter doing this, remember?”

“I know.” Dan put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and gave him a firm squeeze, “You’re a good kid.” Bucky looked down, “I’m serious. Just grow a little more confidence there, because you literally have everything you need to have some, and more.”

Bucky raised a brow.

“Thank, Mr. Cross.”

“Night, kid.”

With his spiked bottom ice shoes, Bucky picked up the ice resurfacer in the utility room and wished himself some good luck.

It was a large rink. Probably not as big as the ones back from when he was little, but it was a decent size for sure. He does as told by Mr. Cross who treats him kindly and pays him decently (it helped your dad with your mom’s doctor bills), and it takes him about forty minutes to finally reach the last quarter edge of it.

He’s fixing his grip on the metal rod, wrist and fingers already cramping up when something catches his eye. He squints his eye as he finally approaches it.

huh. A rose.

He picks up the beautifully intact flower and looks around the arena wondering who would’ve left it there. But it doesn’t take him longer than a second to remember he’s the only one still there. He looks at it again.

It’s beautiful.

He’s never been much of a flower guy but something tugged at him looking at this one, especially after such a shit day. It was like a light at the end of the tunnel.

He takes the flower and tucks it inside of his jacket and then finishes the rest of the floor.

When Bucky gets home that night, he makes sure not to make too much noise, knowing his parents are already asleep. He puts the milk in the fridge and quietly makes his way up to his room.

He takes off his beanie and puts it on the desk. He unzips his jacket and pulls out the flower. He’s not careful when he does it and one of the thorns ends up cutting his thumb.

“Shit.” He curses, looking at the flower part again.

How could something so beautiful do so much hurt?

He places it next to his closed laptop and then drapes his jacket over the chair.

He doesn’t waste time hopping into the shower, brushing his teeth, and then slipping into his PJs.

He turns off his lamp and then heads to bed; mentally tired, but hopeful thanks to a lousy little white rose.

C H A P T E R T W O

Masterlist also coming soon. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged.

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky #Bucky x Reader #Bucky Reader fanfic #Marvel Fanfiction #Marvel #MCU fanfic #bucky x you #bucky smut #sebastian stan #bucky x y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #Ice Princess

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deandoesthingstome · 7 months

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Let's spread some positivity! Tag some of your fellow content creators here and let them know why they are absolutely amazing!❤️

I've been seeing this all over the place and I love it!

I have been tagged by many who I would tag, as well seen them tag many others I would also tag.

So in no particular order and also with knowledge that this list can in no way be comprehensive because I sometimes have a hard time remembering every author I have ever read or liked but I'm going to do my best to list who I can. And cut it, cause it gets wordy here:

@sillyrabbit81 for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is she was my entrance to this fandom with Even If You Don't Mean It. Her Sy is goals, not to mention her fantastic gif making skills. I mean, just LOOK AT THIS!!!

@mayloma my lover of everything Walter (and more, I know; Sy and August and Henry get her love, too.) Her Hideaway Walter is especially delicious.

@geralts-yenn another serious contender for feeding the fandom gifs and inspiration, but an author in her own right. Lots of minor Cavill characters get love from her but I'd be lying if I said I was ever not thinking about her Sy from Bonfire. Also, thank you for the tag, lovely!

@raccoon-eyed-rebel is my series go-to. Seriously, the number of her stories I have been or still am following with glee is astounding. I'm still waiting for a conclusion to Fixer-Upper with Sy, but it's the way she agrees to write me into the scenes with my favorites that really seals the deal for me. Not that I need everyone lusting after my man, but please, do enjoy my Pumpkin Spice king.

@hope-to-hell just gorgeous, sensual, dark and sticky stuff. I daydream about her collab fic with Walter calling a phone sex line every now and then. Sad and Lonely Boys has an unexpected Mike twist to it, but it hits so hard, I cannot resist it.

@ellethespaceunicorn just goes crazy on every Henry character. She loves them all, spends her time researching (read "watching all his movies to get the mannerisms and feels right") and just churns out ideas like there is no stopping her. So many options to choose from, but I still want to see more of Love, Napoleon. Another friend I need to thank for the tag. (And please, you flatter me, too.)

@littlefreya Demon of Lust doesn't do her justice. She is a masterclass in Cavill fanfic. So many ideas, so many stories, all filled with fantasy and desire and just pure, unadulterated fun. You'd think I'd run to her Sy, too, but it's August who makes my heart beat faster when I think of Freya. The Way to Hell will show you why.

@winter2112rose creates cute domestic bliss with our favorites. Sometimes, a bit of angst works its way in, but that's okay. Trust she has the best intentions in mind for your fave. If that fav is Walter, start with A Detective and His Baby Cubs. Thank you also, sweetheart, for the tag!

@itbmojojoejo this is a throwback fandom for me. Most you maybe don't know of my love for Finan the Agile from The Last Kingdom. But Mojo keeps me fed with Finan gifs and also has an amazing TLK 1950's crime lord AU Crimes of Passion that has me hooked and desperately hoping her muse and her free time hook up again soon.

I'm sure there are more. I imagine you could check out my FWW posts to see some other wonderful writers and the things I've said about them already, too.

Keep doing what you're doing, friends. For as long as it feels good.

#tag games #content creators #spread the love #share the love #support your local fanfic writer #support your local artist #toss la petite mort to your local fanfic writer #fandom is community

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marrondrawsalot · 3 months

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Prefects learning the history of bird man statue in Headmistress Darling au

- in Cafeteria -

Isabelle: yeah. And that statue though.

Ace: what about it?

Estella: who’s he?

Deuce: ….. uhhh…?

Haru: you don’t know, do you?

Ace: oh we know. It’s just….. a very huge topic…..

Deuce: yeah, it was over the news over years ago….

Drew: what happened?

Ace: uhhh….. we don’t have the proper details…. But uh, talk to Mr. Trein. He’s old to know it up close. It was a huge deal back then.

Ophelia: how so?

Deuce: just ask the professor….. wow, you guys don’t even know that.

Freya: know what?

Ace: it’s- *hears someone* oh, Deuce let’s go!

Deuce: r-right! *leaves with Ace*

Minako: okay…. That was suspicious as fuck, right?

Freya: oh definitely.

Tsukii: mhmm!

- to Trein class -

Trein: *grading papers*

Minako: *kicks door*

Trein: *spooked grandpa noises*

Freya: okay maybe not scare the only person who has the answers to what we have to ask.

Trein: I suppose it’s about the statue?

Estella: okay, I’m leaving….. after the explanation.

Trein: *sighs* that statue. Is the supposed. You say…. Corpse of the previous headmaster.

All Prefect’s: what?!

Trein: it happened about thirty years ago. Before Headmistress Crowley taken over. The last headmage was her father, a caring single man who rose this girl to the ideal image of the perfect daughter. But, tragedy struck. In the form of a lunatic man who lead a cult known as the Mages of Light attacked the school grounds. However, to this. It costed the previous headmage his life. His daughter, didn’t thought straight as a young fletching. You see, Headmistress Crowley cold demeanor and emptiness is the result of this tragedy. From a young age, she became headmistress. Graduating her classes few years early, and taken over. Of course, the last staff pleaded her to reconsider. But, how can we? When she can only think of grief and despair. As caring she is to students and her family. She can be quite a calloused woman when upset. She is truly kind, but, the more you see her eyes. You wonder, is she still alive inside. Or did she too died along side her father years ago?

Freya: and…. The cultist? What happened to him?

Trein: ….. it was found a student thirty years ago was his son, and he was expelled permanently but. His father….. he never saw another light of day after a few weeks.

Estella: holy sh-

Trein: however, no one could say she had any involvement. Because they can never find a trace of her near. To her, she just said “divine punishment” but what others say. “It was justified revenge.” There is no answer for the case. And it remained closed for the time being. And she chose to keep her father remains, making it a total of eight statues of the most respected. Eight statues for the eight dorms.

——————————————————————————

@adrianasunderworld @mangacupcake @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind @skboba-stars @nproduction626 @rose-tea-and-strawberries @anxious-twisted-vampire @yukii0nna @achy-boo @abyssthing198

- Darling isn’t heartless to the Yuu’s/shows a motherly interaction with them

- the staffs are deeply scared of Darling lifeless eyes, which they cannot face her without thinking she is going to maim them

- Darling respects Trein a lot and vice versa, mainly because Trein was a guardian figure to help her be a full headmage with wisdom and acknowledgment of her own decisions (Darling: my dad died but I still got a human one to substitute my depression for a bit.)

- massive better change with no one overblotting in this au, but someone is slowly losing it.

- this is probably a come back, aka more Darling angst

- everyone knows about the attack because it was hella fucking public and Ambrose still checks on this dead inside lady to see if she’s still alive with a pulse. (Grandpa Ambrose to Darling)

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #marron ocs #twst #twst oc #darling crowley #dire crowley #Headmistress Darling Au #Headmistress Crowley au #gotta fucking remember the au tagline #muts ocs

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jjkeverlast · 1 year

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lati i went to the yoongi concert last night and omg it is everything!!! anyways to go along with that lol do you know of any agust d fics i can read :) ?

anonieee!! omg lucky uuuu babe tell me everything!! it must've been fucking amazinggg, i keep seeing so many concert pics and vids on twt and it looks out of this world jdsfhksjdfh also YOONGI LOOKS LIKE A GOD.

aaand for the fic recs... i hope by agust d you still mean yoongi. or do you mean yoongi as agust d? if you do, i haven't read any of the sort yet, but i'd check out @/moonchild1 & @/ggukkiereads that have broad libraries when it comes to finding golden fics in any genre, trope and so on!

if you mean min yoongi, you're in for a fucking TREAT. these are my ult faves, literally the ones i aaaalways fall back too whenever i'm having yoongi brain rot! hope you'll like them! <33

[remember to read the warnings for each fic before you dive into them! they are there for a reason <3]

-> SERIES

collateral by @theharrowing (mafia au, strangers to lovers) Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You. But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

it's min yoongi being a fucking mafia boss and just hot as shit (toxic too upsi) listen, i started dive deeping into this and i've never regretted it. this the one if you're really into dark fics and min yoongi being a literal badass in that one 'that-that' outfit hehehhe. also, harrow never disappoints with their stories. top tier shit.

back-burner by @yoonpobs (sister's best friend au) sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete?

BACK-BURNER. just. please, this is suuuuuuuuuch a classic and the fucking angst? build-up/slow burn in this??? will pull u to shreds in the best way and you'll thank me one day.

mixtape by @sailoryooons (brother's best friend au) Growing up with Yoongi as your older brother’s best friend was bound to manifest a crush. It was small, fleeting. Gone with age and time. On a holiday trip to the cabin, you’re reunited with Yoongi after not seeing him from two years. Maybe that crush wasn’t as over as you thought it was.

goooood, when i tell u THIS. this right here is THE brother best friend fic series for me. nothing ever fucking beats it than this yoongi right here. he's all i ever think about. you'll understand why when you read it dsfhdsjkfh. hali knows how obsessed and in love i am with him because i don't ever shut up about him... oops????

-> ONE SHOTS

cybersex by @gimmethatagustd (brother's best friend au) The whole point of being a phone sex hotline operator is that you’ll never have to meet your clients. So what are you supposed to do when you find out your favorite client is your brother’s best friend?

jai always manages to write her yoongi's like fucking menaces with tongue technology high level 1000.... SO. and its brother's best friend, literally pure golden in a one shot.

stay by @sugarwithtea (strangers to lovers) What happens when you get stranded in a remote town with no place to live except for a lodge owned by a dangerously handsome but annoying man? Yeah, a lot.

BROOO !!!! the perfect 'oh shit, i'm stuck with u and you're kind of annoying... well...'' situation and freya put her all into it. it's fucking chef's kiss.

i don't care by @sugaimhome (villain/hero au) he was the villain. you were the hero. yoongi will make you his.

LISTEN. IT'S DAECHWITA YOONGI AS A VILLAIN. LIKE ITS ALL U NEED. AND WHAT HAPPENS IS JUST SDJKHFHSDF

okay, that's all i can think of, as of right now! BUT. i'd love to pull in my lovely mutual @yoongukie-ff who i know has some of her own yoongi fics she'd love to share! or else, anyone who wants to share a yoongi fic to this anon, feel free to do so!! <33 the more the merrier heheeee

#anonie #lati's mailbox📬

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lonesomedotmp3 · 1 year

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this is so embarrassing <3 but would you happen to maybe possibly have a merlin (2008) fic rec list beloved mutual..... not nearly enough fic writers get it like my beloved mutuals do

i can assure you that is absolutely not even close to as embarrassing as it is to have devoured any and everything the merlin fanfiction world has to offer. i have read aus that you would not believe. i have been subjected to characterisations and headcanons that would make anyone else instantly close the tab. i have read authors with such a poor clumsy grasp of british slang i could weep from embarrassment. yet i persevered. for MONTHS. and here is what me (and beth <3) have managed to scrounge up after all of that. please use everything i've just said as context that we were NOT in our right minds reading these. proceed with caution

tributes - the! hunger! games! fic!!!! iconic legendary spectacular THEE revolutionary turnaround for the merlin fanfiction game and for the horrors generally. do NOT go in overhyped tho me and beth went in like haha what a cool weird au and then it caught us off-guard that it wasn't written terribly. also good for something longer and about much more than just merlin and arthur. it's fr like watching the show again for better and for worse. it's got camp whimsy it's got our main duo acting like complete freaks it's got this constant suffocating sense of inevitable tragedy... slayed!

history books forgot about us and in dreams - by the hunger games writer so u know it's actually written well!! don't read their other stuff tho just trust me. my memory of the first one isn't great but i remember feeling with both that finally FINALLY someone Got the finale like me + beth did. short but just rlly solid satisfying follow-ups to the show.

the court of avalon - freya + arthur best friendism in avalon realest shit ever said!!! makes me go fucking crazy fr. YES this has way too much magic lore bullshit to it and i don't careeee they're my friends.... and FINALLY a proper post-finale fic where they don't just freeze arthur in time for 1500 years...

to the point of fear - slay little mordred character study!!!!

the world i built for you - the disir fix-it!! smth i have always wanted due to being sooooo Normal about that episode (arthur's matrix. if u even care). not perfect but worth a read for sure!!

long title and also long title - i rlly like established relationship fics. sorry for being cringe and boring some crimes can never b forgiven etc.

like clouds in starlight widely spread - ok the rest of these i'm going to copy/paste from my list for beth sorry <3 but if i've already written a little deseription for each one why give myself more work yk. anyway: sad and wistful and A Lot as someone who was about to move out of my hometown when i read this. if i said it chapter two vibes. actually that doesn't mean anything ignore that. at one point arthur goes "are you trying to tell me something?" and merlin responds with, "i'm always trying to tell you something." which uh. he really is huh. it's whatever though.

fundamental imperfection - merlin and arthur as writers, gets their first meeting right (arguing and being dicks, then immediately becoming obsessed with each other). don't remember much else except the sequel is unfinished heavy angst and i cried like three times. don't read that (+ HIGHLY positively peer reviewed by beth. tell us a story about love!!!)

as long as we have we - i know you've read that fake marriage christmas fic which i love a lot (maybe it has problems but it's just so endearing...) and this is the same vibe. or well it's christmas and it's sweet so

(and said xmas fic: no matter how far away you roam <3)

tintagel - i don't know how i feel abt merlin and arthur in this but the parallels made to ygraine and nimueh are just too insanity inducing to ignore. my price is my life yours is to bear witness.... they wrote that in 2009!!!! insane

ok that's a lot + it's the best merlin ff has to offer. which is still not that great but. enjoy!! + b thankful you do not have to go into the hellscape that is the merlin ao3 tag...

kingdoms - i have no memory of this tbh but i wrote 'yeah.' underneath the bookmark so it's gotta have something

sorry edit one more I forgot - merlin and arthur are exes and arthur is just soooo weird and sad and repressed about it. also peer reviewed 🫶 (X) and also check out beth's merlin fanfiction recs tag if for some insane reason u want more. ok bye 🫂

#<3 #ask tag #finalgirlbrasso

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sylvies-chen · 2 years

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Ok now that I’ve been thinking about a Charlie/Nick Merthur AU for a while, the characters actually translate pretty well if you make a few adjustments and it’s making me SO EXCITED to write something related to this so I’ll just put my character choices under the cut:

First off, obviously, we have Nick as Arthur and Charlie as Merlin. (I am going off of the BBC show by the way, not the actual legends themselves). I mean, the blonde jock and his scrawny, slightly sassy boyfriend? Yeah, I’ll eat that trope up every time. Now obviously Merlin and Arthur are a very enemies to lovers trope and Charlie and Nick never had that element of hatred, but I would just scrap that enemies portion and have them like each other right out of the gate, but also have Charlie be a little blunt with Nick which Nick isn’t used to because he’s royalty. And I would also make that ICONIC pilot fight scene not between Charlie and Nick, but between Harry and Tao— minus the absolutely stupendous homosexual tension at the beginning (or maybe leave it in lmao). I would have Charlie using his magic the whole time and grinning from the sidelines while Nick, unaware that it’s magic he’s using, is standing there making eyes at the new physician’s nephew.

Tao is Lancelot. This is a pretty easy one. Brave, insanely loyal almost to a fault, starts off as lower on the social hierarchy but proves to be a higher quality knight and person than most of the noblemen, so he earns Nick’s respect really quickly. It takes Nick longer to earn Tao’s.

Then you have Elle as Guinevere. Now, the obvious choice at first glance is Imogen, since she’s the pretty girl that Nick “should” want but doesn’t. Even Tara would fit that description. But that would defeat the entire essence of Guinevere, who doesn’t start out as high on the social order as Imogen did. Guinevere was a blacksmith’s daughter and considered lower in the hierarchy, just like Elle is seen as an outcast because of her transness as well as her association with other people on the “lower end of the social food chain”. Plus, since the AU would make Nick and Charlie (Arthur and Merlin) endgame, Gwen no longer needs to be worried about as a threat to their relationship or as a romantic prospect, and Guinevere does fall in love with Lancelot at one point, so to put Elle in that character but have her stay with Tao/Lancelot would be perfect.

In the end, I think Imogen would translate perfectly into Lady Vivian in the 2.10 episode “Sweet Dreams” because after Arthur’s love potion wears off hers doesn’t which kind of leaves you just feeling sorry for her in the end and she would actually be a baddie and super beloved if she hadn’t been messing with Arthur’s relationships.

I think I would have Freya AKA the Lady of the Lake go to Tara but I would change it so that a) Merlin/Charlie wouldn’t fall in love with her and neither would Nick, and b) so that Nick and Charlie work at freeing her together. Tara’s struggles after her coming out post were really relatable and sad so idk, I think she would kind of peacefully vibe with helping them from the lake and wielding Excalibur for Nick to take when the time comes. After all, they’re besties in the show so having him be involved in helping her escape in the AU would make them besties there too.

Morgana is a hard one to cast because there isn’t a single main female villain in Heartstopper. My gut is to go with Tori because I think she matches the vibe and I think Tori, like Morgana, has a lot of hurt so she would be a villain that would be heartbreaking to watch go up against Nick and Charlie (her own brother!! Imagine the ANGST!!) but also really interesting because again, just like it was with Morgana, the audience would understand where she’s coming from. Also, we know she’s had her conflicts with Nick in the past when it came to that one incident with Charlie’s ED so her grudge could be more towards him and then “Merlin” aka Charlie could have been trying to mediate things between them this whole time because he loves them both (which would align perfectly with Merlin’s very pacifist tendencies).

Last but not least— and ooh, this is SO important to me— is MR. AJAYI AS GAIUS. Please. I think this would be so cute. Like I know Charlie has parents but they could be Hunith and Balinor and whatever, that’d be great— but MR AJAYI AS GAIUS WOULD BE AMAZING. Mr Ajayi has been a present queer figure in Charlie’s life and if we’re really extending the idea of magic as an allegory for queerness having Gaius, the source of all of Merlin’s knowledge of various creatures of the Old Religion, is Mr Ajayi it’s literally like having a queer mentor. 10/10 would kill to see this.

Anyway, this is all I have so far for character translations. All that’s left is Darcy and Isaac (and Aled if I’m doing the comics). I think it’ll be a really fun AU to write if I ever get my ass out of a knee-deep WIP list and manage to start writing it!!

#heartstopper #nick x charlie #charlie x nick #charlie spring #nick nelson #heartstopper AU #merlin AU #netflix heartstopper

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merlinfic · 3 years

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group ask for lost fics #34

Hi y’all! Below are a few lost fics that us mods just can’t seem to find. That being said, we’re hoping that you lovely followers are able to help! If anyone knows any of the fics below please reply below or send in an ask with which anon/user and group ask that the fic corresponds with!

Note: previous group asks and all lost fics!

Anon 1 asked:

Hello!!!! It's so good to know that the askbox is open again! But I'm sorry to be putting this weight on you guys, but I'm desperate! I swear I tried to look the master list, the others asks, went to Google and used every tool available to me on AO3, but I couldn't find this fanfic. It was about Arthur finding little things about Merlin, like his hair growths super fast (and he gets hotter with longer hair and a beard), that he can't write beautifully and others. Then there's a festival and A was going to confess, but there was a song dedicated for him, writing by M and was a Knight in love with a Servant and he thinks is about M and Lance, gets jealous and leaves, saying that other song with a boat was his favourite and M got sad. Please it has been so long, this fanfic was my comfort place 🥺

@cynical-marshmallow asked:

Hellooooo! It's so good to have you guys back! I've been having some trouble lately trying to track down a Merthur fic I read ages ago, so I thought you guys might be able to help.

It's a pretty short, modern AU fic, in which Merlin is kind of quiet and shy and insecure, and pines away for Arthur from a distance. Arthur is sort of aloof and dismissive of Merlin at first, and there's a scene where he tells Morgana that he doesn't think Merlin is interesting enough for him (or something along those lines). Anyway, Merlin is still quiet and shy around Arthur, but Arthur starts noticing him more and more, and they end up sleeping together after a party. Merlin doesn't think Arthur means anything by it, but Arthur has started to fall for Merlin at this point. There's also a scene somewhere in between where Morgana tells Merlin that he deserves a nice boy, and "Arthur is not a nice boy."

Those are all the details that I remember, but I haven't been able to find the fic yet. Could you please help me out? Thank you!

Thanks to @nextstopparis for suggesting L’Intérieur by aprettyaway!

Anon 2 asked:

hello!! Thank you so much for all you do. English is not my first language so I’ll be direct. I’m looking for a fic! It’s set in High School, Merlin is new, he and Arthur meet at the school’s infirmary (Merlin got beat up and Arthur got hurt doing some sport). Merlin doesn’t want to get close to him cuz he’s a jock. Some things I remember: Merlin thinks Arthur is like a puppy; he lives close to Freya; they do study sessions. Tysm!!!!

@commanderrivercc-3628 asked:

Hey guys. I was looking for a fic I read a while ago. It’s an mpreg fic that takes place in canon. Merlin and Arthur are married I think. And the topic of heirs comes up. Merlin goes to Kilgarah for help. Kilgarah tells him there’s a way but it’s probably won’t work but Merlin does it anyway. Merlin and Arthur try a lot but it eventually works and the court isn’t happy about it I think. Thank you so much. I checked the tags but I couldn’t find it. Thank you again.

Anon 3 asked:

I'm trying to find a fic where I can't remember the whole plot, but it did have one scene where merlin passes out after making a forcefield over the castle, then magic users from all around put some of their magic into it to lighten the load & it let's him wake up. Climactic big battle later fighting alongside Arthur & all the people they gathered but I can't remember if he finds out about the magic during the fic or if he knew all along. Does this sound familiar?

Thanks to @szappan for sending in We Lost the Roadmap by story_monger! And thanks to @fractalinferno for suggesting Facing the Truth by SanguineInk!

@angst-buritto asked:

Hi, sorry to bother you, I’m looking for this fic, I’m pretty sure it’s a WIP, where Arthur (I think?) knows about Merlin’s magic early on, and he begins creating an underground resistance against Uther, and like a spy network to eventually overthrow him? And he feels guilt about it, but he knows that Uther needs to be dethroned.

Thank you for all that you do!!

Thanks to @the-seaworthy-muffin for suggesting The Warlock's Quickening by Antares8!

Anon 4 asked:

'ello! First of all I wanted to say thank you guys for the recommendations, the amazing help, for every single moment of relaxation that this blog gave me. Thank you guys so much, from the bottom of my heart!

Ok so now I wanted to ask a little help to find a specific fanfic. It was about Uther finding out that Merlin was beaten at an alley and was dying, so he called Arthur to talk to him, but he didn't come and U wento to him and A was on the floor, suffering and sad. They talked and I remember U asking what would A do IF he finds who did it this to M and was like "I would kill them" "and if is more than one?" "I would destroy them all", or something like that, my brain translated things automatically. But I remember U saying that Love was as dangerous as Magic, and he spent the night with his son. I remember that M got to be okay in the end, and it was that, I think.

Thanks @graceworm for sending in A Pendragons Heart (Is a Terrible Thing) by pepperlandgirl4!

Anon 5 asked:

I just went through finding, bookmarking, tagging all the fics I love but one still alludes me. Arthur had returned and he was going through immortal Merlin's things and finds a bunch of letters / photos from Merlin's past. I specifically remember one referencing the AIDS crisis. Any help would be greatly appreciated!!

Anon 6 asked:

Hi! I am looking for a lost fic I no longer remember the name of-

Arthur finds out about Merlin's magic and it does not go well, and he sentences Merlin to die. A scene I remember is that Merlin was about to be burned, but he kept extinguishing the flame with his magic until Arthur lights it himself. After that, Arthur regrets his actions (and there is some pushback from Gwen and other Knights as well, who leave I think?), thinking that Merlin was dead. But Merlin had lived and was living elsewhere and eventually returns. The fic was quite heavy and angsty, but with eventual happy ending.

Would be really really thankful if you can help!

Thanks to @justmestarstuff for suggesting Beauty in the Ashes of Our Lives by Fulgance!

Anon 7 asked:

I read a fanfic a long time ago but I can't find it . I would really appreciate it if you could help me find it. Arthur is the prince of Wales and merlin is pining after him. He doesn't know he's the prince of Wales through. They fall for each other and he still doesn't find out. Arthur isn't keeping it a secret, he thinks merlin knows or something idk.

Thank you

Thanks anon for sending in The Booth in the Corner by ambrosius!

Anon 8 asked:

hello! first off, thank you so much for your work! i was just wondering if you knew the name of this fic i read, where merthur + knights are out hunting, but they get separated. merlin is mortally wounded (by a sorceress?) in a clearing in front of arthur, but the knights couldn’t reach/help them in time because of magic. i think the mcd was temporary, and there was maybe a magic reveal somewhere too? it’s alright if you can’t find it, but thank you anyway!

Thanks to fractalinferno for sending in and with my opened mouth i join the singing by lightintothefirewego (WIP)!

Anon 9 asked:

Hiya! I lost a fic I was hoping you could help me find. It was an au of the first episode essentially. Leon sees Merlin saving Gaius and arrests him. So then Merlin can't save Arthur and so on and so on until all of Camelot is destroyed. Leon does but is sent back and basically told try again and dont mess up this time?! Thanks!!

Anon 10 asked:

Hey guys! Thanks for all your hard work on the blog. There's a fic I've been trying to find for a bit; Arthur finds out about Merlin's magic and he commands him to use it to save someone (can't remember who) but as a result he loses his soul or something and goes into a vegatative state, and Arthur spends most of the fic caring for him. It's oddly specific but I'm hoping at least one of you knows what I'm talking about??

Thanks @statistical-nightmare for suggesting The Price of Rain by BookshopLaura!

@merlins-golden-eyes asked:

Hello! I'm looking for a fic that I actually found on here a while back but have lost unfortunately. :( It was about Merlin ignoring Arthur because he was mad at him or something like that, and Arthur was having a bath. Merlin ended up uh..y'know jackinghimoff when he was washing him and I believe it was a oneshot pwp..? Please help! Xoxo

Anon 11 asked:

I read a fic a long time ago , pretty sure it's on Ao3 . Arthur returns and keeps asking merlin questions so merlin gets him a phone and Arthur takes to spending all his time on it and while Arthur is out one day, merlin takes a look at it and the search history says how to know if you're in love with your best friend. That's all I remember.

Thank you

Anon 12 asked:

Hi! Firstly, I’d just like to thank you all for your hard work ❤️ Secondly... I’m looking for a fic 😬 I looked in every tag I could think of, but honestly I don’t really remember much of it... It’s canon era, Arthur tries to have aggressive wall sex with Merlin, but as soon as he sees him or touches him or smtg he cums. He’s so embarrassed he tells Merlin to leave and that’s all I remember. Also, if you could recommend me any fic where the guys have trouble during sex, I’d like that (: Thank u!

Anon 13 asked:

hi there, thank you so much for the work you to categorize so many merthur fics for the rest of us! i just wanted to ask about this merthur fic i read a year or so ago and just can't remember the name of. i think it was an office romance but for some reason what stayed the most with me was that they did many DNCE songs references - i remember that, at some point gwain said to uther "we don't need to keep it hush, you can leave your thootbrush" and i nearly chocked on my drink. please, help me find it? i've been racking my brain to remember the author or the tittle and still got nothing :(

Thanks to @cynical-marshmallow for suggesting How to Cock up like a Champion by arthur_pendragon, which you need an ao3 account to view!

And, as always, this post will be updated if any fics are found!

#other: group asks for lost fics #other: lost fics #other: fic find #mod danielle #when i say the struggle is real........#like i know that i know some of these but my god if i can find anything

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hongcherry · 9 months

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pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc | 3

🍒 Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (afab)

🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst; Unrequited enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, college au

🍒 Warnings: General tws + mention of death, mention of divorce, sugar daddy seungcheol (we love to see it)

🍒 WC: 12.6k

🍒 Betas: Sarah, Indi, Kelly, Freya 💖

🍒 Author’s Note: Already halfway through the series! Thank you for all the support I've gotten so far! (no I won't stop saying thanks bc I'm grateful for you all!). I'm really relieved people like it since I enjoyed writing it a lot ♥️

also read here: AO3 | Wattpad

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

You sit on the edge of your bed, legs bouncing with anticipation.

He will be here any minute, and like before, you’re suddenly self-conscious of your outfit. You didn’t change it as many times as you did last time, but you still thought hard about it. You end up donning a black faux fur tube top, high-waisted black pants, and black heels.

Your red pumps are an option, but you think they’re too much—a little too dressed up for a simple dinner… But then again you are wearing a top that resembles a fuzzy rug, so the outfit is already borderline “too much.”

And Seungcheol likes red.

Your eyes dart to the discarded shoes in the corner. Does it matter that he likes red—on you, to be more specific? If you wear those, will he think you wore them for him? Do you want to wear them for him?

As the questions tumble into your mind, you barely register your door opening.

“Honey?” your father asks gently.

Your head pops up to see him entering your room. “Yeah?”

“How late are you going to stay out?” he wonders.

You give him a quizzical look. He rarely questions you on your outings, let alone the duration.

“I’m not sure. I can bring home some food for you and Seoah,” you offer, thinking he needs you to bring back dinner since you will be gone.

“No need. I’m going to take her out once you go,” he replies.

You’re never good at hiding your reactions. Your eyes widen slightly before narrowing. This is odd coming from your dad.

“What’s the special occasion?” you wonder. You can’t recall the last time he took you both for food or just out in general.

“There’s none,” he says. You stare at him in silence as you take in his appearance. His usual eye bags are still present, but he looks more freshened up than you’ve seen in a while. It also looks like he put some effort into his outfit.

“Are you dying?” you ask, thinking he is trying to leave a positive impression before he leaves this earth.

Your dad’s eyes enlarge. “No, no, I’m healthy. I just,” he sighs. “Seeing your mother again made me realize I haven’t been very attentive to you and your sister.”

“This isn’t the first time she’s come back though,” you reply, confused as to why this time is different.

“I know. I can’t really explain it right now,” he says. “Are you going out with Dae?”

“Yeah—” a buzz from your phone “—she’s here.”

You stand up from your bed. “We can talk later, if you have time.”

“I’ll find some time,” he says. You aren’t sure if that is really going to happen, but you don’t want to ponder on that now. “Come back safe.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. Talking to a caring dad has your mind-boggling. You want to feel like your father is actually going to be in your life, but he’s been out of it for years, so it’s hard to imagine that changing.

Your father nods and makes his way out of your room.

A knock at your door startles you from your daze. Before you can overthink the decision, you hastily kick off your heels and replace them with the red pumps. You apply a layer of matching lipstick, then toss the stick in your purse while you jog to the front door. Though what you see isn’t ideal.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ln,” Seungcheol greets respectfully.

“You as well, Seungcheol,” replies your father. You can’t see his face from where you are, but he sounds friendly. Not that he shouldn’t be. He has no reason to be hostile. You just aren’t sure if he’ll try to play the tough dad or not.

Plus, a part of you worries Seungcheol will be able to see past the “perfect family” facade and see all your imperfections.

You gently push your way in front of your dad, turning to face him with your back to Seungcheol.

“I’ll see you later,” you tell him and nudge him inside so you can close the door better.

“Now, just wait a minute, Yn,” he says and looks over your shoulder to Seungcheol. Your body tenses. He is not about to give the whole get-her-home-by—

“—by eleven o’clock. I trust you’ll keep her safe.”

Seungcheol doesn’t appear to be bothered by your father’s little protective speech. Instead, he gives him a reassuring smile. One that a gentleman would wear and one you aren’t used to seeing from him. Normally you get teasing grins.

“Her safety is my top priority,” Seungcheol says earnestly.

Oh God, now you’re stuck between a rom-com conversation.

“Great. Now that you’re both done going through your lines, can we go?”

“Lines?” your dad questions. You aren’t about to waste any more time explaining your lame reference to common daughter-father-date discussions. Not that Seungcheol is your date.

“Is that Seungcheol?!” Seoah’s voice rings behind your dad. Not her, too.

“Yup, it’s slang, bye Dad!” you quickly say, and instead of shoving him back inside as you planned, you turn and shove Seungcheol down the stairs.

“Hey, wait!” Seoah calls out and zips past you to Seungcheol. Seungcheol stands at the bottom of the steps, eyeing you with confusion at your strange behavior. He looks at Seoah when she stands at the top of the stairs.

“Hey, Seoah,” he waves at her.

What did she do to deserve one of his dimple-inducing smiles?

“It’s good to see you back,” she beams, a grin on her face.

“You too,” he chuckles.

“Back?” your father asks.

Your attention zooms in on Seoah, and you hope the silent glare you give her is recognized by her. Her mouth drops open at the realization.

“I mean, it’s good to see your back! It’s nice,” she corrects quickly, gesturing around his body. “It’s, erm, wide and cool.”

“His back is wide and cool?” echoes your father slowly in puzzlement.

That’s enough.

Seungcheol laughs, his obnoxious little deep “ha’s” ringing in your ears. You quickly grab his arm and start to drag him away.

“Have fun at dinner,” you say to your family while you briskly walk away.

Despite Seungcheol being strong enough to pull himself out of your grasp, he lets you lead him to his car.

“Do you think my back is wide and cool too?” he teases.

You whip around to look at him, pausing in your trek. You’re standing a little too close than you intended. “No, I think it’s mediocre and dull.”

He laughs again at your response. You flicker your eyes to the sky as you take a deep breath.

“Not another word,” you warn before guiding him to his car.

Your hand is on the passenger’s side handle, ready to pull it open, but Seungcheol stops you. He gently pushes your hand off before placing his own on the handle.

“I’m perfectly capable of opening your car door myself,” you grumble, arms crossing over your chest.

The corner of one of his lips raises. His eyes drop to your lips briefly.

“I know, Cherry,” he says, then averts his gaze back to your eyes, “but I’m chivalrous, remember?”

He pulls the door open and nods to get in. You narrow your gaze at that, wanting to challenge him on if he truly is.

“Can you guys stop flirting and get inside? I’m hungry,” Dae’s voice pulls you from your staring contest. You forgot she will be in the car already.

“You heard the lady,” Seungcheol murmurs to you.

“You’re going to get this heel stuck so far up your ass, Choi Seungcheol.”

He chuckles and leans in closer, voice dropping so only you can hear, “Sounds kinky, baby.”

You push down the fluttering of your heart at the pet name because you refuse to let him get away with that cocky reply.

“If you both don’t get in now, I’m leaving you guys and taking the car,” Dae threatens.

You glare at Seungcheol for a second longer before lowering yourself in the seat.

“Finally,” Dae mumbles when Seungcheol climbs in.

“Sorry, there was an… incident that delayed us,” you say and set your purse in your lap. Dae leans forward, placing a hand on your arm to turn you toward her.

“You don’t look sick,” she observes to herself. You scoff and brush her hand off you.

“Because I’m not,” you say.

Seungcheol starts driving as you speak with Dae.

“Are you sure?” she wonders.

“Why would you think I’m sick?”

“Because you apologized.”

You peer back at her, unamused. Dae just smiles.

“She also says please now,” Seungcheol chimes in. You groan at his addition and press your back into the seat. Your feet almost kick like a kid throwing a tantrum, but you hold back that urge.

“Well, now, she’s always done that…sort of. Have you been saying please more? I’m shocked. What about your ‘thank yous’? You haven’t forgotten those right?” Dae asks as if speaking to a child.

You sigh loudly, making it as audible as you can so they know how annoyed you are. Apparently, all Seungcheol’s outings result in your misery one way or another. “I’m not agreeing to any more of your invitations, Seungcheol.”

“I doubt that. You like my company too much to refuse,” he replies. He doesn’t appear to be bothered one bit by your statement.

“Does she now?” Dae wonders aloud. You don’t like where her mind is wandering to.

“Hush it, you two. The only tolerable one here is Yejun,” you huff, having seen him for a second when you glanced at Dae. He was on his phone then, but now he’s sitting back enjoying the bantering between you all.

“I’m honored to hear that, Yn,” he teases.

Even though the car ride consists of Seungcheol and Dae teasing you and Yejun, you’re grateful to get your mind off the troubles you’ve been having lately.

When you arrive, you quickly open the door and step out before Seungcheol can open it for you.

“I beat you this time,” you gloat as Seungcheol comes to stand by you, locking his car once the others are out.

There’s a small bounce to your step when you exit that causes Seungcheol to give you a warm smile, eyes staring at you with tenderness.

“That you did, Cherry.”

Your elevated shoulders deflate while a pout takes over your features. His reply is too casual. You had expected something more witty.

“While you two do a round two of flirting, Yejun and I are going to go inside,” Dae says before wrapping her arm in Yejun’s and leaving you both by the car.

She walks away too fast for you to reply, so you turn to Seungcheol. He wears a red turtleneck, black pants, and a black leather jacket slung over his arm. The shirt hugs his body nicely; it outlines his muscular chest ever so slightly and makes you yearn to see more. His hair is styled a little to still look natural but gives it a different appearance. He’s really handsome tonight. Red seems to be his color as well.

“You’re not going to wear that?” you wonder while pointing to his jacket.

He shakes his head. “It’s too hot right now.”

“Then why did you bring it?” you ask, eyebrows coming together.

Shrugging, he takes your hand in his. Your first instinct is to pull away—startled at his sudden touch. You’ve never held his hand before. The act seems a little too intimate… Makes you feel a little too warm.

Nevertheless, you keep your hand in his. The feeling is rather nice if you’re being honest with yourself. His grip is firm to make the grasp feel secure but not too tight to be suffocating. It’s as if he’s just naturally used to having a strong grip on things.

“We don’t want to keep them waiting,” he says before making his way to the restaurant. You stay silent as you walk next to him.

“I’m glad you listened to me,” he comments when you are near the entrance.

“Huh?” you ask, glancing up at him.

He gives you another smile and reaches past you to hold the door open.

“Red still looks good on you. Even if there’s only a little of it.”

So he did notice.

You tear your gaze from him at his compliment, heart beating quicker. You can’t keep it steady even if you try. You feel a little proud you decided to go with the shoes after all.

You mumble a ‘thanks’ before walking inside. He follows behind you, greeting the host. The host gestures to where your friends are all seated before wishing you a good dinner. It almost looks like they are a group of people celebrating something, but you know they aren’t. There are just a lot of you. And of course, the two empty seats happen to be next to each other at the end.

“Hi, Yn! Hey Cheol,” Joshua greets. When everyone notices you, there is a chorus of hellos. The large welcome has you smiling, not used to the friendly attention.

All the people who are helping you with your project are here, plus a few others. They make you promise not to talk about the show before sitting down, claiming you need a break from it. You want to protest as you can talk about whatever you want, but they have a point. You probably do need a mental breather. Thus, you agree to their conditions.

You sit between Seungcheol and Wonwoo, who you just met. He’s a film production student and like Vernon, keeps mostly to himself. Despite that, he isn't shy to engage wholeheartedly in the conversation if he is passionate about the topic. You also meet Jun and Seungkwan for the first time—Seungkwan being the more outgoing of the two.

Seungcheol’s friends are a lively bunch, and although his business friends can get rowdy as well, their energy just doesn't match this group. It’s more relaxing, carefree, and so easy to slip into. However, a part of that can be because you don’t feel like you’re on defense the entire time.

For the first time in years, you are surrounded by people you thoroughly enjoy—without the stress of being the best, viewed as being the enemy, and the pressure of keeping your family together with tattered strings. It’s all so… alleviating. Comforting.

Seungcheol keeps his arm hung over the back of your chair as you attentively listen to his friends. Sometimes you would feel his hand on your back and would turn to see if he needed something. He always shook his head and nodded back to who was speaking—sometimes it was multiple, and you just picked the closest conversation you could hear.

You’re so used to hearing Seungcheol’s voice that you don’t realize how quiet he can get. At first, you’re concerned, but you realize he’s enjoying sitting back and watching his friends have fun. You don’t know how long he’s known these people, but from the fond look in his eyes, you know the duration doesn’t matter. They mean a lot to him.

You wonder if he’ll ever look at you like that in the future. Like you are someone he cherishes and adores. Suddenly, you want to try everything in your power to achieve that.

Once the food arrives, you figure the noise will quiet down. That isn’t the case. The table is still chatty even though it should be filled with munching. You suppose this is the pros of being with a large group.

Seungcheol had moved this arm so he could eat, but he put it back when he was done. When his fingers graze your back for the nth time, you finally peer behind you to see his hand. You giggle as you realize he’s been playing with the fuzz of your top the entire time.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly apologizes and retracts his arm from your chair. You grab his wrist, guiding it back to where it was.

“It’s fine. It’s nice,” you murmur.

“And cool?” he taunts, referring to Seoah’s attempt to hide the fact that Seungcheol had been to your house before.

You scowl at him half-heartedly before turning away. In spite of the loud environment, your ears still catch his low chuckle behind you.

Not once this night did Seungcheol put on his jacket. He never came close to needing it. Nevertheless, he didn’t hesitate to drape the material over your shoulders when he saw you shiver for the third time. There’s a tiny part of you that wonders if he brought it just for you. Though that’s a reach as he wouldn’t have known what you were wearing. You could have brought your own.

Despite feeling warmer, you miss his hand touching your back. Sometimes it would tickle your bare skin whenever you moved a certain way; it had shivers running down your spine. It could’ve been because of his cold hands, but you knew it was more because of his skin touching yours. You’re tempted to remove his jacket just so you can feel his touch again.

“Hey Yn,” comes a voice behind you suddenly. You glance up to see Jeonghan. He leans on the back of Seungcheol’s chair to look at you.

“Hi,” you greet. He’s sitting on the other side of the table, so you wonder what brings him over.

Jeonghan glances down at Seungcheol, one hand on his shoulder. “Seungcheol.”

“Jeonghan,” answers Seungcheol suspiciously.

“So, I heard you’re paying for some people’s dinner,” Jeonghan trails off.

Seungcheol leans forward to move away from the man.

“Emphasis on some,” he replies.

“One more won’t hurt, right?” Jeonghan asks with an innocent smile on his face; however, you know that grin is more devious than it appears. It means trouble.

“Hm, you’re right,” Seungcheol answers, then glances past you. “I’m sure Wonwoo would love a free meal.”

Jeonghan whines at his reply. “Not him! Me! Pay for mine, buddy?”

“No,” Seungcheol says with a small laugh.

“Seungcheol’s paying?” Soonyoung’s voice rings out from across the table. Their conversation, albeit not loud, catches his attention. Or perhaps Soonyoung just has a keen ear for the words “pay,” “Seungcheol,” and “free”.

“No!” Seungcheol says, louder than before.

“Seungcheol’s paying?” More voices resound this time, all heads turning toward Seungcheol.

“No, I’m not,” the man in the center of attention declines. He sends a glare to Jeonghan.

“Isn’t he so generous?” Jeonghan says, disregarding Seungcheol’s answer, and goes to wrap his arms around Seungcheol. The latter man has no choice but to accept the hug as he is trapped due to the table.

Whoops, hollers, and thanks reverberate from the group.

Your eyes scan the table. It’s covered in plates. Sure, a few meals aren’t too bad, but paying for a table of sixteen is absurd. Perhaps they’re all joking with him. Though, when they all begin to file out of the building without opening their wallets, you know they’re serious.

Seungcheol stays seated as they leave, informing you both they’ll wait outside.

You stare at Seungcheol in shock. You figure he’d be infuriated, but he looks relaxed still. Almost as if this isn’t the first time it’s happened.

You grab your wallet from your purse, plucking out your card and holding it out to him.

“I can help pay,” you say. Seungcheol glances at your offering. He smiles at you and pushes your hand back.

“I appreciate that, but don’t worry about it, Cherry.” He sounds amused as if you just offered him a popsicle rather than money.

“But this is way too much for you to pay alone,” you argue.

Seungcheol doesn’t let you see the bill and pays for the meal swiftly. However, you don’t need to see the total to know it’s a lot of money.

“Seungcheol,” you scold when he doesn’t listen to you.

He chuckles and slides his card back into his wallet. “Put that away, and let’s go, baby.”

He gestures to your card still in your hand before standing up and adjusting his clothes. It takes you a few seconds to move, still dumbfounded by him actually paying for it all and affording it, and him calling you baby. Despite him only calling you that three times, it still has the same effect it always has.

Not that you are counting.

He takes your hand in his again as he walks out, thanking the host once more.

“There’s the man!” Seokmin greets him with open arms when he sees Seungcheol.

Seungcheol shakes his head in disapproval, but he has a smile on his face. “You all owe me now.”

“You say that every time,” Seungkwan calls out.

“Exactly. You all have a tab open,” he says.

“We were thinking of getting some ice cream, you guys want to come?” Chan asks.

Seungcheol glances at you before saying, “I’ve got to get her home, sorry.”

“What?” you ask. “No, you don’t.”

“It’s almost eleven,” he answers. You sigh and shift your weight.

“You don’t actually have to get me home by then,” you say, remembering your father’s words.

“Yes I do,” he argues. He looks at Dae and Yejun before you can reply. “Do you both want a ride back?”

“Nah,” Dae says. “We’re going to get another one.”

“Alright. See you all later,” Seungcheol raises a hand in farewell.

“Thanks for paying!” Mingyu exclaims, a bright smile directed toward Seungcheol.

“It was nice to meet you, Yn,” Wonwoo says.

“Get back safely,” Jun adds.

“Thanks,” you answer and then peer at Seungcheol. He’s giving his last byes. Dae catches your gaze, giving you a big grin and a few eyebrow wiggles. You roll your eyes at that and send her a small wave as Seungcheol starts to lead you to his car.

When your friends start driving past, waving and shouting goodbyes while they leave the parking lot, you slow to a stop.

“Why don’t we go with them?” you ask.

Seungcheol raises a brow. “You want to go?”

“I don’t see why not,” you shrug. Truthfully, you don’t want the night to end.

“You like hanging out with them that much?” he teases.

“They’re not that bad,” you mutter, “and ice cream sounds nice.”

He lets out a breath as if in realization. He slides his hand from yours, which you are about to protest, and then drapes it around your shoulders.

“I’ll get you ice cream on the way back, okay?” he replies and continues to his car.

Seungcheol keeps his promise, stopping by a place to get you both a double-scoop cone for the drive. Compared to the last time you were in his car, this ride is a lot more relaxing. It’s quieter since Dae and Yejun are absent, but the music on the stereo fills the small space.

At a stop light, Seungcheol fishes his phone from his pocket.

“Come ‘ere,” he says, lifting the phone up at an angle.

You peep up while licking your ice cream. “Hm?”

“Smile,” he instructs and puts his cone in the frame.

Your gaze drifts to his phone, a puzzled look on your face just in time for him to capture a photo. You’re a second too late to understand what he’s doing.

Seungcheol laughs at your unreadiness.

“Hey! That’s not fair,” you whine and nudge him.

“That’s not my fault. I told you to smile,” he says. He sets the device in the cup holder when the light changes.

“But you didn’t give me enough time to do that,” you grumble.

Not wanting him to have the upper hand, you retrieve your own phone. You lift the device, both your faces on the screen but only you are looking at the camera. Seungcheol is focused on the road, so you quickly take a photo.

“Did you—? Okay, that’s not fair. At least I told you to smile,” he laughs when he hears a click, taking a quick peek at you.

“We’re even now,” you smile as you click on the picture in your gallery. Seungcheol’s side profile can be seen in the background. His tongue is poking out to take a lick of his ice cream. That part was unintentionally taken, but you find the candid photo endearing.

“For now,” he replies, lips in a wide grin.

Your hands are sticky after you’re done with your treat, so you dig out the hand sanitizer in your purse. Seungcheol gives you his palm upon seeing the item. You laugh softly and place some in his hand as well.

Everything feels so normal. It doesn’t help that he places a hand on your thigh so naturally that you can’t find an excuse to move it. At some point in the drive, you start playing with his hand, running your fingertips across his skin and toying with the ring he wears. You don’t even realize you are doing it until he slowly pulls away to put the car in park.

“Did you have fun?” he asks quietly.

For once, you don’t shy from the truth with a sarcastic answer. “I did. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Again, it wasn’t just me. They wanted you there,” he reassures with a kind smile.

That’s weird for you to hear, and you aren’t sure how to respond. You still can’t wrap your mind around the fact multiple people wanted to be in your presence. You mean, it wasn’t just yours, but normally people give you side-eyes when you’re near. Or perhaps you just feel like they do.

“I’m glad you came,” he says before turning off his car. “Now, wait while I open your door.”

You watch as he walks around the car and comes to your side. You want to disobey him, just to rile him up, but you decide to let him have this win. In all his chivalrous glory, he holds out his hand when he opens the door.

“Thank you,” you giggle as you take it and climb out of his car. He keeps his hand in yours leading you to your house.

“You don’t always have to walk me to the door,” you say.

“I can’t see the door from where I park,” he replies.

“You don’t need to?” you answer, but it comes out more as a question due to your puzzlement.

He chuckles and squeezes your hand. “Of course I do. I won’t know if you made it inside safely.”

“That’s kind of you, but—”

He turns around to face you, stopping you in your tracks

“I meant what I said earlier. Your safety is important to me,” he says, eyes locking onto yours so you can see his seriousness. Heat rises to your cheeks. You try to bite back the smile though it’s no use.

Seungcheol stares at you with gentle eyes.

“I like seeing you hap—” he starts.

A loud noise startles both of you, forcing you to move away from one another. You expect to see Seoah or your dad watching from the windows, but you don’t see any faces hiding behind the blinds.

What was that?

Another loud crash.

You don’t like the doom that creeps into your mind. Worried about your family, you rush to the door—only to find it slightly ajar. That doesn’t seem good.

“Seoah? Dad?!” you call out as you push open the door.

“Yn, stop!” Seungcheol urges and runs after you. He grabs you before you can get farther in. He moves you quickly so you are behind him.

“Get out of my way, Seung—”

“Who’s that?!”

You peer around Seungcheol to see your mother, a random knickknack you have around the house in her hand. Your eyes shoot down to the floor to see shattered glass.

“Are you out of your mind?” your father shouts and snatches the item from her hand before she can presumably throw it.

You shove Seungcheol out of the way. Well, you try to shove him. He stands firm in his stance. You try again, and although he still doesn’t move away, he leans slightly over so you can see better.

“What are you doing back?” you question your mother. She turns to you, eyes puffy and lips curled in a snarl. She looks like she hasn’t slept for a few days.

“Yn, dear. Hi sweetie,” she greets, voice softer than before.

Seungcheol watches her with hawk eyes, but when you push him for the third time, he relents. Though he still keeps close.

“Dad?” you ask, hoping to get an explanation.

“She came wanting her stuff back. I told her we had to sell some of it to afford things, and she wasn’t happy about it.”

“Am I supposed to be glad?” your mother growls as she turns back to your father. “You had no right to do that without my permission!”

“You weren’t here,” you say. Her gaze on you is one of surprise as if you’re supposed to be on her side.

“I was coming back,” she says, shoulders sagging.

“And then leave after a few days. This isn’t your home anymore.”

“You’re my home, baby girl,” she replies and starts to come closer. Seungcheol takes a step forward.

You put a hand on his arm to stop him, telling him quietly, “This isn’t your problem.”

This doesn’t make him move, and you sigh. This is exactly what you wanted to hide from Seungcheol. To hide from the world.

“Who is this? You’re letting our daughter see this disrespectful man?” your mother questions your father.

“He’s a nice young man,” your dad defends. There’s an annoyed spark in you that wants to ask how he could know that. He met him for five minutes or less, and suddenly he knows Seungcheol? However, you don’t want to ignite another argument.

“Yn, take Seoah with you and go book a hotel room. You can take my wallet,” your father instructs.

At Seoah’s name, you realize she’s been home while all this has been happening. You’re used to her being somewhere else when fights like these occur.

Without another word, you nod and start toward her room. You don’t get far before you remember Seungcheol. You stop to peer at him.

You’ve never seen him so mad yet worried.

“Thanks for the meal. I’ll talk to you later,” you dismiss, hoping he will turn around and leave so you can focus on Seoah. You should’ve known he wouldn’t do that.

“Yn,” he says.

“Boy, get out of this house right now,” your mother declares.

“You’re the one that needs to leave,” your father exclaims.

Sighing, you grab Seungcheol’s hand and pull him down the hall. You knock on Seoah’s door. Your parents fighting can still be heard.

“It’s me,” you say. The door creaks open.

“What do y—Oh, Seungcheol!” Her eyes widen when she sees him.

You move in front of him more so she’s focused on you. “Eyes on me. Pack a bag. We’re going to a hotel.”

“Again?” she sighs. “I don’t want to. I can just put my headphones in.”

“It doesn’t matter. Pack. We’re leaving in fifteen.”

“I said I don’t want to!” she huffs.

“I don’t ca—” you hiss, only stopping when Seungcheol places a hand on your hip.

“You can stay at mine.”

Seoah’s eyes light up at this.

“Really?!”

“Absolutely not.”

You and your sister say in unison.

“Why not?” Seoah whines.

“We don’t need his help.”

Seoah stares at Seungcheol for a moment and then at you. Finally, she nods solemnly. “Alright, I'll be ready soon.”

“Good,” you reply, then walk to your room. Seungcheol follows you.

“You shouldn’t have said that in front of her,” you scold as you grab a bag, not bothering to look at him. He quietly closes your door to block out the noise outside, though you don’t hear it shut fully.

“Maybe not, but I meant what I said,” he replies.

“And I meant what I said,” you pause while putting a shirt in the bag, eyes glancing at him. He leans against the wall near your door; his arms are crossed. “We don’t need your help.”

You go back to tossing clothes in the bag in a rush. You kick off your heels and trade them for socks and tennis shoes. You don’t hear Seungcheol move until a hand is gently placed on yours.

“Just stop for a minute, Yn,” he says.

“I don’t have time.” You brush his hand off and go back to your closet. Seungcheol grabs your reaching hands and turns you to face him. He leans in so you can see his face easier.

“Stop,” he instructs, using that firm tone of his. It has you relenting. “It’ll be faster to just stay over. You won’t need to deal with a hotel. They may not even have an empty room.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with us,” you reply, chest jumbling with overwhelming emotions. You were happy with him just minutes ago. Now, you feel embarrassed and frustrated.

He shakes his head. “I want you to come. You won’t be bothering me.”

“Do you have a roommate? What would they say?” you question, thinking back to how some of his friends are rooming with each other.

“I live alone. I have a spare room Seoah can sleep in. It’ll be more comfortable there.”

“What about me?”

“You can have my room.”

“I’m not going to kick you out of your own room, Cheol.”

He smiles, yet it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s nice to know you care about me.”

“I don’t,” you huff. “I just don’t want you to give me a hospital bill from the back pains you’d get from sleeping on the couch or floor or wherever.”

Seungcheol chuckles softly and watches as you take a deep breath. The playful moment disappears as quickly as it came.

You bow your head; wrists still clutched in his hold as you ponder his offer.

Staying at his place rather than a hotel does sound nicer, and he has a point there may not be any openings. Not to mention, it’s the cheaper option. But will this be crossing into territory that you aren’t ready for? You’ve hung out with him enough times to consider him your friend, but even then, that’s new to you. Friendship doesn’t come easy to you. Despite you clashing heads with his business peers, you feel Seungcheol has slid into your life too readily. Like it’s too good to be true, and he isn’t going to stick around permanently. Something in you doesn’t like that thought, but that’s an issue for another day.

Seungcheol places your hands on his chest before moving his own to cup your face. He gently lifts your head up to see you. Your eyes are glossy, not yet crying but can easily if one more thing goes wrong.

For the first time, your veil of confidence lifts.

“Stay with me,” he whispers.

He’s talking about going over to his place to get away from your parents. You know this. That’s what this whole discussion is about. But why does your heart tell you he means something else?

There’s a knock at your door, and you move away reluctantly. Seoah shuffles inside with a backpack on her back.

“He’s still here,” she says, surprised at Seungcheol’s appearance.

You clear your throat. “Yeah, we’re,” you pause as you do one final debate in your head, “we’re going to his place for the night.”

From your peripheral, you see Seungcheol’s lips lift in a faint smile.

Seoah’s sad face brightens at the news. You aren’t too sure why she’s so excited to go to his place, but you figure it’s similar to your reason—it isn’t a stuffy hotel room.

“You convinced her! You’re so clever!” she exclaims to Seungcheol.

“I am, huh?” he agrees to which you nudge him.

“Seoah, will you go grab my toiletries, please?” you ask.

“Hm, fine, but only because I forgot mine,” she replies and hurries to your shared bathroom.

“I’m clever, did you hear?” Seungcheol gloats while you finish packing.

“I’m pretending I didn’t,” you mumble.

You zip the bag and toss it over your shoulder. As you expect, it doesn’t stay there for long. Seungcheol carefully slides it off your body before putting it on his a few minutes later. You had opened your mouth to protest, but he shook his head to tell you not to argue. Sighing, you nodded because frankly, you’re done having and hearing arguments for now.

You meet Seoah in the bathroom, and you all walk to the door.

The yelling has stopped.

Your mom is sitting with her head in her hands, and you can hear her sobs filling the room. Your dad is cleaning the mess she made from tossing things around. They are talking, but you don’t stay long enough to hear the topic. The few words you do hear make it sound like they’re talking about their marriage, which is a conversation long overdue.

Seungcheol ends up carrying all the bags to the car. While he sets them in the trunk, you and Seoah sit inside.

“Woah! This is fancy,” Seoah admires, eyes scanning the small space.

“Thanks,” Seungcheol laughs lightly as he drives away.

Seoah talks for a while before eventually falling asleep. You aren’t surprised as it’s late, and she probably doesn’t realize how much the drama took a toll on her.

“You can sleep too,” Seungcheol offers quietly. He keeps his hand to himself this time, and you wonder if it’s because of Seoah or because he wants to distance himself from you. You can’t blame him if he did. Who wants to deal with other people’s problems? He only offered for you to come over out of courtesy.

“I’m okay,” you reply, gaze cast out the window.

As if sensing your thoughts, his hand comes to rest on your thigh again. His thumb brushes against the material of your pants, offering some comfort and reassurance. You place a hand on top of his gently. He flips his over so he can curl his fingers around your hand. You both gaze at each other with a small smile before turning away, hands still clasping in each other.

Seungcheol carries Seoah and her bag once you arrive. He offers to carry your bag too, but you’re stern in your refusal. He’s helping enough. He directs you quietly to his apartment number. After retrieving the keys, you open the door.

His apartment is spacious.

The interior is polished and decorated nicely. Similar to his car, it’s enough to tell you it’s luxurious but not obnoxious to shove it in your face. And man, is he wealthy. From his car, his clothes, the dinner bill, and now his apartment? His pockets are definitely not empty. You’re sure he could rent or buy a house, so why he decided to live in an apartment is unknown.

Seungcheol leaves to put Seoah in the guest bedroom while you lock the door. You place the keys in a bowl near the entrance. Some of his shoes are left by the door, so you take off yours before walking any farther.

“Cherry?” he calls out. A small smile forms on his lips when you respond to the name. He nods for you to come over, and you follow carefully as if you could break his flooring. You don’t think you can afford the repairs if you do.

“You act like you’re walking on glass,” he chuckles. He watches you with amusement.

“I don’t want to break anything,” you explain.

Seungcheol glances around where you are. The path you take is pretty much empty, but you still act as if you are going through a maze of porcelain vases.

“You’ll be fine. Now walk a little faster, please,” he says.

You don’t listen to him and keep your pace. Seungcheol eyes you as he leans his back against a wall. His head is tilted and his arms are crossed while he waits.

“You’re cute,” he comments when you come closer.

“Be quiet,” you hiss and take a few more steps before stopping in front of him.

“No,” he says defiantly, then guides you to another room. Although you don’t see the room he put Seoah in, you’re positive you have just stepped into his room.

You were so caught up with your family drama that you didn’t think twice about Seungcheol being in your bedroom. Now that you are in his, it dawns on you how much of your life he has seen in a short period of time.

It isn’t a big deal. At least, it shouldn’t be; however, bedrooms are personal. They often described the resident, and you and Seungcheol have seen each other's spaces in the span of an hour.

“The bathroom is over there,” he points out. “You can set your bag anywhere. I’ll be out there on the couch.”

“I should take the couch,” you say.

“Cherry, don’t argue. Not tonight. You’re sleeping here.” His words make it seem like he is tired of your complaints, but he talks so softly that it doesn’t feel like that.

“Fine,” you comply.

Seungcheol rewards you with a smile. “Goodnight then. I’ll see you in the morning,” he says and starts for the door.

“Cheol,” you murmur, reaching out when he comes by.

He stops as soon as he feels your hand grazing his arm. “Hm?”

Your eyes rise to meet his, and the look on his face has you needing to catch your breath. He is worried. Worried about your well-being. Worried about what would happen tomorrow. You don’t want him to stress over you.

“Thank you,” you speak softly, “for a lot of things.”

He chuckles and raises a hand to the nape of your neck, thumb caressing your cheek. “Care to be specific?”

“For dinner. For this. For not… leaving me.” Yet.

“I don’t think I would if I could,” he murmurs.

“You can, though?” you say, skepticism evident in your head tilt.

Seungcheol’s mouth curves into a small smile, eyes searching yours for something you don’t know. “You’ll know one day.”

That doesn’t help your puzzled state, but that doesn’t seem to affect him. Slowly, he leans in. His lips press against your forehead tenderly, lingering there long enough for you to close your eyes for a second. It’s gentle and sweet. You wish it was on your lips instead.

“Sweet dreams, Cherry.”

He leaves without another word, and you’re in such a stupor that you don’t have time to say anything before he shuts the door behind him.

Using Seungcheol’s bathroom and changing in his room is strange. Yet what’s more strange is that it doesn’t feel all that… weird? Not like you thought it would be.

Is it another illusion you cast upon yourself?

Seungcheol would stroll through the door, dressed in sweats and a loose shirt… or maybe not one at all. He would kiss your mouth in greeting. His broad body would press against yours, and he’d smile that smile that had you wanting to do anything to keep it there. He’d slide next to you in bed, whispering teases in your ear that would annoy you, yet you wouldn’t want him to stop.

Oh, hell. What is wrong with you?

Irritated at the mini story you conjured in your head, you kick at the jacket on the floor. However, you recall you didn’t bring a jacket tonight. Seungcheol had let you borrow his. You just kicked his jacket.

Oh no.

But it’s just a jacket. Why are you getting upset over it? You can kick it again. It isn’t going to come alive and bite you. Seungcheol will never know you fought with it, but something in you feels guilty about the action. Perhaps because it belongs to him, and you feel responsible for it since it’s under your care.

Shaking your head, you grab the item and hang it over his dresser. You’re losing it. Your marbles? All gone. Rolled off to another dimension, never to be seen again.

You move to his bed, carefully pulling back the covers to climb in. Your body sinks into the mattress, and a sigh leaves your lips at how good it feels under you. It’s comfortable, soft, and way too big for just you. You feel like royalty.

Leaning over, you switch off the night light, snuggling deeper in the covers and taking a deep breath.

Sleeping in his bed is surely a bad idea. His expensive cologne is lingering on his sheets and is a strong reminder of where you are. Nevertheless, you pull the covers closer to you as you close your eyes. You need a break from your tiring thoughts.

The morning comes sooner than you’d like.

You open your eyes expecting to see your pegboard of sewing supplies and instead see a black dresser. It has you jolting up and frantically glancing around. When you spot the black jacket on the dresser, you remember you aren’t home. You’re at Seungcheol’s.

You reach over and flip your phone to view the screen. It’s nearly ten.

You linger in bed, mindlessly scrolling through social media until Dae texts for a favor. You’ll fill her in on what happened later, for now, you’re forced to go to your gallery to send a reference of something she needs. The act has you stumbling upon the picture you took last night.

The stretch of your lips happens involuntarily as you stare at Seungcheol through your screen. Even though the night ended poorly, at least you have something to remember about the good times.

Having caught yourself staring at the photo for too long, you quickly exit the app and send Dae what she needs. That’s enough phone usage for now.

Reluctantly, you haul yourself from Seungcheol’s (beyond) comfortable mattress, fix the bed, and then go to the bathroom. After a quick change, you carefully open the door and pad out to the living room. You anticipate seeing Seungcheol sipping on something warm on the couch, but what you see instead has your heart tightening.

Seungcheol lays on his back, one arm resting across his eyes and the other across his chest. Some of his hair is trapped against his forehead due to his arm, and the rest dangles off the side. His lips are slightly ajar due to the position of his head. The blanket that was once over his body is now situated half on the floor.

You recognize his clothes from last night, and a pang of guilt hits your heart. He could’ve knocked on your—his—door and asked to get a spare of clothes, yet he left you alone. It was a selfless act, and you stare at him with newfound affection.

You shuffle in your spot, unsure of what to do. A part of you wants to be a creep and stare at Seungcheol longer—he looks too cute not to—and another wants to go back to his room until you hear some movement. Neither of these happens when you hear Seoah’s voice.

“Are you plotting his murder?” she whispers, though it’s louder than one.

You snap your eyes to her, feet moving farther from the sleeping man. You scoff, muttering, “No!”

“Then why were you staring at him like that?”

“I was not staring,” you argue. Seoah’s eyes narrow, unbelieving you.

“Were to! You weren’t even blinking.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“And you’re lying.”

You both eye each other down from across the room, sending invisible daggers each way.

“Go get dressed,” you finally say.

“Why?” she questions. “We’re going now?”

“Soon, yes.”

“But it’s so nice here. Don’t you think we should, I don’t know, cook him breakfast for letting us stay here?”

“We can give him a granola bar when we get home,” you sigh. Just once, can she listen to you?

“A granola bar? I didn’t think you hated him that much,” she gasps, overexaggerating her expression.

“You’re right. I don’t. I’ll give you the granola bar instead,” you threaten.

She giggles, and a frown sets on your lips at the sound. “You can’t. They’re all gone. I gave them to Dad.”

There’s a small puff of air somewhere in the room that doesn’t come from you or Seoah. The only other person in the room is… Your eyes go to Seungcheol. Sometime during your bickering, Seungcheol had woken up. He doesn’t have his eyes open or has even moved his body, but his lips were definitely not in a smile a few minutes ago.

“Did you hear that, Seungcheol?” Seoah asks. “Yn’s trying to kill you with granola bars.”

“Hm, I heard,” he chuckles softly, still a little sleepy. He peels his eyes open and leans his head to the side to look at you. The arm that was once over his eyes has shifted to rest on his forehead.

“That’s not very nice of you.”

You should be irked at being ganged up on. They’re teasing you, yet your mind gets foggy from hearing Seungcheol’s deep timbre. He already has a deep voice, and you’ve heard it go deeper when he’s teased you, but this is different.

And goodness, do you find it attractive.

“I think we won,” Seungcheol continues playfully and looks at Seoah with a smile.

“I think so too! She doesn’t have anything to say,” she giggles.

You blink a few times and then look at Seoah. “Why aren’t you getting changed?”

“This is why you don’t get invited to parties. You ruin the fun,” she huffs, smile dipping into a frown at your words.

“Parties aren’t fun in general,” you counter.

“Speak for your own parties!” she says.

“What do you even know about them?” you question. Seoah opens her mouth to answer but stops when Seungcheol speaks.

“Seoah, go get dressed, and we can get some breakfast. One that doesn’t include granola bars,” he chuckled.

“Oh?! Okay! Sounds good,” Seoah replies excitedly and turns to go back to her room.

“You listen to him and not me?” you scoff.

She stops in her tracks. “He’s nicer.”

“I’m your sister,” you answer as if that holds more weight.

“Right,” she drags out. “I revoke that privilege!”

She hurries inside the room and shuts the door.

“Privilege,” you repeat with a scoff and cross your arms over your chest.

“You should’ve been a lawyer,” Seungcheol says as he stands from the couch. You focus your attention on him, almost forgetting he’s there with how quiet he is being. His hair is sticking in different directions, and you have to force down a giggle.

“What? Why?” you question.

“Because you like to argue.”

“Hmph!” you sound and give him your back. A childish move, but Seoah isn’t here to mock you for it later.

Seungcheol laughs and comes up behind you. He places his hands on your hips, leaning his head to your ear. Your heart begins to race at how close he is. His breath tickles your ear, and you squirm at the sensation. Seungcheol holds you tighter.

“I think you would’ve been a good one,” he murmurs, voice still deep from his sleep. You want to listen to him more.

“Really?” you hum.

Seunghceol’s hair brushes against your cheek when he shakes his head.

“No,” he teases before slowly slipping his hands from you. You whip around to look at him.

“Where are you going?” you ask. Why do you sound so desperate? You don’t need to be near him. It doesn’t matter he’s leaving.

He smiles as he walks back toward his room.

“To get ready. Don’t miss me too much,” he replies, sending a playful wink and shutting his door.

Seungcheol comes back dressed in a simple black short-sleeved shirt and jeans. It’s not a combination you haven’t seen before. In fact, it’s really common, yet your eyes can’t tear away from him.

“Is it stained or something?” Seungcheol questions, glancing down at his outfit as he walks to you.

“N-no,” you reply and avert your eyes from him.

“You know you can tell me when I look nice, right? My ego will only inflate a little,” he says.

He plops down next to you on the couch, swinging an arm behind you and spreading his legs a bit. Your gaze drifts down to his thighs. They’re thick, and you wonder if they will be soft or firm under your touch. Your body instinctively inches closer to him like the temptation is too strong to ignore.

You hear Seungcheol try to stifle his laugh, causing your eyes to move away.

“A little?” you echo when you recall the active conversation. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

He smiles and shrugs. “Well, what can I say? A pretty girl giving me compliments makes my ego grow bigger than usual.”

“Cheol,” you whine, glancing away, wishing he wouldn’t say things that make your heart do somersaults. You had put those thoughts under lock and key because you are definitely not developing an infatuation with Choi Seungcheol.

Seungcheol tucks a finger under your chin and turns you to face him, so he can see your flustered expression clearly.

“My pretty girl,” he murmurs so low you have to strain to hear it.

Silence looms over you both. You swear he can hear your thudding heart. His hand glides from your chin to your upper thigh.

“You gonna’ give me that compliment now, baby?” he prompts lowly while his hand gently massages you.

“You look good,” you reply quietly, fighting to stay calm.

“Only good?” he hums.

“Really good.”

Seungcheol chuckles. “I guess that’ll do for now.”

Your lips tug down when he pulls away from you, making Seungcheol pause and smile.

“Don’t be sad, Cherry. You can compliment me more later,” he says. You have a feeling he knows the true reason for your pout but decides not to mention it.

You’ll have to work on hiding your expressions better. For now, you focus on making sure you and Seoah don’t leave anything before heading out the door. You don’t fight with Seungcheol when he takes your bags again. It’s just easier not to.

As promised, Seungcheol drives you all to a local breakfast diner. It’s lively—filled with all different walks of life. You see couples, friends, families, and some loners who don’t actually look alone. They seem content.

Seungcheol must come here often as most of the workers recognize him. They’re happy to see him with new people this time. You think you catch sight of one of them giving him a thumbs up, but it could’ve been directed to another patron.

“This tastes amazing!” Seoah exclaims, another fork full of pancakes entering her mouth.

“Don’t eat so fast,” you scold when you see her cheeks full.

She brushes you off with a wave of a hand but waits until she swallows what’s in her mouth before taking another bite.

“Is yours okay?” Seungcheol asks from across the table.

You had wanted to sit next to him, but Seoah had pushed you inside the booth and slid in after before you could have a say. Though Seungcheol doesn’t let the distance stop him from giving you affectionate touches. He has been brushing his leg against yours slowly under the table for the past ten minutes.

You glance at him and nod. “It’s great,” you say.

“I’m glad,” he responds before taking another bite as well.

The rest of the meal isn’t anything exciting. You all eat well, and when it comes time for payment, Seungcheol beats you to it. You try to pay, even going as far as trying to distract him, but he remains adamant. You reason he just paid for a hearty meal last time, and the least you can do is pay as a thank you for spending the night. He only shakes his head.

Seoah is much more awake on this car ride. Her mouth almost never stops running. She gives Seungcheol so many compliments on his apartment you figure his ego is bursting at the seams. He’ll be full of them for days. Then Seoah talks about you—well, tries to. You shush her every time she attempts to tell an embarrassing story.

“But he should know how you can’t eat more than three egg rolls before throwing up—” Seoah says from the backseat.

“Seoah!” you huff for the umpteenth time.

“Seriously, Seungcheol, she ate so much one time that her body can’t eat a lot anymore,” she continues. You rest your head against the headrest with a groan. You don’t want to go to jail. Deep breaths.

Seungcheol laughs, taking a quick glance at you. “Fully noted,” he replies.

“Good! You should know this stuff since you’re her boyfriend,” she says. “Well, not yet, anyway. You’re going to ask her out, though, right?”

The question has you holding your breath. You don’t expect him to answer as it isn’t any of her business, but there is still some hope that he’ll respond.

Seungcheol makes a small choking noise while he tightens his hold on the steering wheel, obviously startled by the sudden question. His face becomes flushed, and his ears turn a light shade of red. It isn’t often you see this side of Seungcheol, and you almost let Seoah continue. Almost.

“I—” Seungcheol starts.

“You’re five seconds away from being kicked out of this car,” you threaten Seoah as you turn in your seat to glare at her.

“Seungcheol wouldn’t do that to me,” she protests defiantly.

“There’s always a first for everything,” you smirk at her. “Plus, it’ll build your character.”

She gives you a shove on the arm and pouts.

“Don’t worry, Seoah. You’re safe with me,” Seungcheol says after he collects himself.

Seoah straightens at that, sticking her tongue out at you. “Told you so!”

You mutter a “yeah” at her as you shake your head and glance at Seungcheol. He gives you a lopsided smile before looking back at the road.

That night your mom and dad discussed their relationship.

It’s been delayed long enough, and all that pent-up anger finally bubbled over, resulting in your mom becoming the Hulk for five minutes. You had never seen her so mad, but you’re grateful she was throwing the objects on the floor rather than at your dad or Seoah.

They agreed to break up officially. It’s always been a cloudy subject with them. You didn’t really know where they stood, but it’s clear to you now. Whatever hopes of getting your family back won’t come true. Your parents have some money and plan to file for divorce papers soon. You aren’t sure how custody will work, but you figure Seoah will stay with your dad. Your mother is too busy traveling to take care of your sister. Despite your dad also being busy, at least he’ll be home more. Though, you get the feeling you’ll still have to look after her.

As promised, your father put aside some time to talk to you. It wasn’t a lengthy conversation, but it was… nice, regardless. He apologized again for not being there for you and Seoah and said he’ll try to be better. He’s honest in that he tells you it will take some time, but you’re grateful he wasn’t feeding you fairytales.

Two weeks pass by with the same schedule—wake up, homework, class, homework, dinner, sleep. You meet with Dae a few times to work on your project, but that’s all. You have a quarter of your outfits completed for the show, which feels good, but you still have more to finish. You’re on track with your own deadlines, but barely.

You haven’t seen Seungcheol much during the weeks. If you do, it’s only through passing. Texts with him have also been minimal due to your schedules. You should be fine with that. You’ve seen and talked with him plenty that weekend to last weeks, yet you can’t get him out of your mind.

You’re not sure when you’d grown so attached to the man, and that makes you worry. You’ve only known him for nearly three months. It’s too soon to feel this strongly. To feel like you need him. You need to focus more on something else. Anything but him. You have repeated this in your mind, trying to make it stick.

Though it isn’t too successful, considering you are sitting on your bedroom floor with Seoah stringing beads as a thank-you gift for Seungcheol. You want to blame this on Seoah, but you had come up with the idea. Seoah is here because you know she has been wanting to do something. However, if you are being honest, the main reason is you need an excuse for why you are making a bracelet for him. The idea is silly, but you found a bunch of beads in your room and needed to do something with them. Maybe this is too childish for someone like Seungcheol. You were going to back out of the plan, though Seoah was over the moon at the suggestion. Needless to say, you couldn’t change your idea even if you wanted to.

“These beads are too small,” you grumble as you try to pick up a bead for the third time.

“You just want to complain,” Seoah replies, having no issue with plucking beads from the container. You glance at her work. She used pink and blue beads only, alternating between the two. There’s also an “S” dangling in the middle.

“‘S’ for Seungcheol?” you wonder. Seoah glances at the letter and then at you.

“No. ‘S’ for Seoah. I want him to know it’s from me,” she explains. You laugh a little. A two-for-one use.

She tilts her head at yours. “Why the cherries?”

Your body warms at the question. It’s simple. Innocent. Nothing inappropriate or difficult to comprehend. Though the answer is more complicated, or at least, it’s too personal to share.

“They matched my colors,” you shrug, acting as if it has no significant meaning, but you know otherwise.

You want him to be reminded of you any time he sees it. You want to be on his mind as much as he is on yours. It’s only fair. Plus, in a weirdly possessive way, you want to feel like he’s yours. Even if that isn’t true.

“There are strawberries, too,” she points out.

“I just grabbed the first charm I saw.”

“Ah,” she examines the unfinished bracelet. The beads are alternated in a different pattern than Seoah’s. It consists of mainly white beads, a few red and green ones scattered between. “It’s nice.”

As you tie the string, you consider the chance of him not wearing it at all. Is yours too much? Too cheesy? Should you just have given him money and left it at that? Why did you spend an hour planning a design and ensuring the beads you picked weren’t scratched or chipped? Seoah had finished hers minutes ago but stayed watching you.

It’s been a while since you hung out with Seoah alone. You hung out more when your mother was here, but even then, it wasn’t too often. You aren’t as close as you feel you should be. You glance at her once you are done. She’s been growing fast, slowly discovering her personality and interests. You know you will never win the Best Sister Award, but you can try to be an honorable mention.

“Seoah?” you call, fingers toying with the finished bracelet.

She’s staring at your hands, but you can tell she isn’t really registering what is happening around her. Somewhere lost in her thoughts.

Still, she answers and looks up. “Yeah?”

“Do you,” a pause, “want to sleep over in my room tonight?”

It isn’t a big deal. You don’t plan to have a pillow fight and do each other's nails, but you would have company.

She looks happy for a split second and then narrows her eyes. “What’s the catch?”

“There’s none,” you shake your head.

“Then why did you ask?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. Not quite ready to fight through the awkwardness of a sappy conversation.

“I thought it’d be nice to have some company, but you don’t have to,” you answer and grab her bracelet. You slide them inside a sheer bag you found, pulling the strings to close the opening. You stand up and place it in your purse. You’ll give it to him tomorrow.

“I want to!” Seoah says quickly when she feels like you’re changing your mind. “Let me go get changed.”

“It won’t be like the sleepovers you have,” you warn when she gets to your door. You don’t want her to get false ideas. She smiles at you.

“I know, but I don’t care.”

After you both are ready for bed, you lay staring at your ceiling. She talks about her classes, friends, and even a few crushes she has. She’s a social butterfly; unlike you, people enjoy talking to her. She is quirky enough to put some fun in conversations, but not excessive to come off rude or overbearing. You’re not sure how she grew to be such a good person because she sure as hell didn’t learn that from you or your dad. Whoever it was, though, you’re grateful. You’ve stopped feeling close to your family, so you quit putting effort into getting to know them more.

Maybe you should change that.

This feels like walking in a tiger’s cage.

You are surrounded by people dressed up in suits and others in plain jeans and a shirt. The majority have neutral colors on, and it’s different from what you’re used to. At least in your building, there are more colors.

There’s no way you’re going to be able to camouflage yourself in your all-pink plaid outfit, so why try?

You keep your chin high as you try to find the study room, ignoring the many stares you receive on the way. You texted Seungcheol earlier and asked for his location. When he asked you why, you simply said it was a surprise.

Room 526.

There’s a window in the door, and you peer in to see if he’s there. He is. Though he isn’t alone. Hajun, Hana, and Doyun are there as well. They’re silent, heads bowed, as they all work on something in front of them. Seungcheol seems deep in thought.

That is until Hajun makes a comment while glancing at Seungcheol. He smiles, chuckling at whatever she said before they both go back to their work.

It’s odd to see him in this environment. He acts so casually with the very same people who only spit insults at you. You know Seungcheol has never stopped talking to them. You didn’t tell him to, and they were his friends before you. Yet, there is still a twinge of disappointment that he remained friends with them.

Dae’s words ring in your ear from weeks ago—he could have left you. Then there is the devil on your shoulder telling you he should have. However, you tried that already. You made that decision for him, but he came back. And you let him.

“Yn?” says a male voice behind you. You jump, turning on your heel quickly and moving from the door.

Vernon stands with his backpack hanging off one shoulder.

“Vernon,” you say, startled. “What are you doing here?”

He smiles shyly. “I’m late for a study group.”

“I thought you were changing majors?” you question.

“I am, but I figured I’d stick it out for the classes I have. Don’t want to waste any more money than I already have by withdrawing,” he chuckles sadly.

“It’ll be worth it once you find something you like,” you reassure.

“Thanks,” he replies and gives you a toothy smile. He looks so young with that grin. “I should go in before they text me again.”

You step aside as Vernon moves.

“Hey, can you tell Seungcheol to come out?” you ask quickly before he opens the door.

“Sure,” he replies.

“You took your time,” Hana teases when the door opens.

“It’s not my fault my phone died overnight. I didn’t hear my alarm,” he pouts. There are a few chuckles that echo in the room.

“Oh, Cheol?” Vernon says. There’s silence for a second. “You’re needed outside.”

“Why?” Seungcheol asks; he sounds distracted.

“Yn’s here.”

“Yn?” Hajun questions, surprised. “What is she doing here?”

“I’ll be right back,” Seungcheol says as you hear the sound of a chair scraping the floor.

“She’s probably just here to recruit you for her stupid project. You don’t need to help her. Let’s just get back to work,” Hajun reasons. “Vernon’s here so we can get done faster.”

“I’m sure you can wait five more minutes,” he says. You listen carefully as his footsteps become louder. The door squeaks when it’s pushed open more.

You look up at the noise and meet Seungcheol’s eyes.

Your breath gets caught in your throat.

His hair is pushed off his face, a few pieces hanging down deviantly. He wears black slacks and a tucked-in white button-down. The tie around his neck is loosened and the first few buttons of his shirt are undone.

His once-stressed face soon brightens as he lets the door shut. He moves closer.

“Hey, Cherry,” he smiles.

“Hey,” you reply, a little breathless from having held your breath.

“It’s good to see you,” he murmurs, leaning a forearm against the wall. You notice he’s keeping his distance, and you’re unsure if it’s purposeful. Perhaps you’re just overthinking again.

“You too,” you reply. Your eyes take one more quick sweep of his attire. How he makes a simple fit look so remarkable is beyond you.

“I can tell you want to give me another compliment,” he haughtily says.

You huff, trying to disguise your panicked expression with faux annoyance. “Not when you tell me that.”

“I can wait,” he says and disregards your comment. He lays his head against the arm that’s on the wall as if he’s taking a rest. You want to wipe that smug smile off his lips.

“You’re insufferable,” you whine.

“No, baby, I’m patient.” He speaks slowly as if to emphasize his statement.

You glare up at him but soon relent with a huff. “You look good.”

“Oh, come on, you used that last time. Don’t you have another adjective? Maybe one that rhymes with pot?” he smirks, an eyebrow rising in challenge.

He wants you to call him hot.

You aren’t going to at first, but then you decide you’re done with him having the upper hand. You recall his shocked and reddened face at Seoah’s question in the car. It would be nice to see that again.

You close the space between you, hand grabbing the end of his tie. Slowly, you wrap the material around your palm. His smug smile slowly disappears with each inch you tug him closer. He pushes his forearm off the wall and sprawls his hand on it instead. His other hand grabs your hip so he can’t tumble forward.

“I’ll say something even better,” you purr lowly. Your faces are so close to each other that you can faintly feel his breath. “You look very sexy, Seungcheol.”

The hand on your hip squeezes you, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob from his harsh swallow. It feels good to put him on the other side for a change. You smile triumphantly at his reaction before letting his tie unravel from your hand.

Taking a step back, his hand slips from your body, and you dig into your purse for the jewelry bag.

“Here, I came to give you this,” you explain and hold the bag up. His eyes drop from yours to the item. He still looks a little dazed.

“It’s a thank you for letting me and Seoah stay the night.”

Seungcheol takes the bag, flipping it over in his hand. He brings it closer and examines it through the sheer material. His lips slowly tug up. Before he can say anything, you hastily continue.

“It was Seoah’s idea. You don’t have to actually wear them, we—she just wanted to give you something.”

Seungcheol starts opening the bag, and you swiftly put a hand out as if to stop him. “You don’t have to open it now, you can do that la—”

He takes out the two bracelets, twisting them until both charms are facing him. You drop your hand and start playing with the strap of your purse, resisting the urge to tap your foot as you stand in silence watching him.

“T-the ‘S’ is for Seoah, not Seungcheol,” you explain. You’re not sure why you do it in the first place. It doesn’t really matter what the ‘S’ really stands for.

“And the cherries? What do they represent?” he questions, eyes flickering to you with a faint smile.

Your heart hammers in your chest. He doesn’t need to ask that. He knows what they represent.

“They’re just cherries. Don’t think too muc—”

“That’s not true and you know it,” he scolds gently. Your eyes focus on his hands as he carefully slips both bracelets on his wrist. They fit around him perfectly. They aren’t too tight to dig into his skin, but they are loose enough to allow a finger or two to slip through.

His gaze moves back to yours. When he notices your averted gaze, he leans in to catch your attention.

“What do they represent?” he repeats, a hint of sternness to his voice.

You meet his eyes reluctantly. “Me. They r-represent me.”

“Yes, they do,” he says, finally letting his smile show more. Seungcheol slips the bag into his pocket. “They’re nice. Tell Seoah thank you.”

“I will,” you answer, clearing your throat. “I’ll let you get back to studying.”

“Don’t you want your thank you?” Seungcheol chuckles and takes a small step forward.

Your body freezes in place. “I don’t need one.”

“Hm,” he says. He takes a quick glance at the study room’s door before cupping the back of your neck gently. Warmth spreads from that area to the rest of your body. You stare at him with wide eyes.

“Thank you, Cherry. Really,” he murmurs and then kisses your forehead for the third time since you met him.

You truly aren’t keeping track. Definitely not.

“I’ll text you later?” he says, though it sounds like a suggestion.

“Okay,” you agree with a small nod.

“You going home?” he asks and slowly walks back to the door, hand grazing your skin as he leaves.

“No, I have a class. Do you have a test or something?” you wonder, recalling how serious he looked earlier.

“A presentation,” he says. That explains his attire.

“Ah. Good luck,” you wish.

You’re not sure what comes over you, but you quickly added, “Oh, and Seungcheol?”

His hand is pressed down on the door handle when you call. He turns his head to you, waiting for your reply before he goes inside.

“You do look sexy.”

Seungcheol laughs, less flabbergasted about your compliment this time.

“Thanks, Cherry. You look beautiful.”

He says it as if it’s as easy as breathing. There’s no hesitation or delay in his comment. You wonder how long he’s been thinking that.

Seungcheol pulls the door open before you can reply and slips inside. As the door is closing, you hear Hajun ask, “Goodness, was she trying to get in your pants? You took forever!”

“Enough, let’s just...”

The door clicks close as Seungcheol speaks. You’re tempted to press your ear against it to hear the rest of the sentence, but you remember you’re in public. You inhale slowly, pausing for a few seconds before exhaling gradually.

Why does every conversation with Seungcheol leave your heart racing?

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A/N: brb swooning 😪 also if i knew how to draw well enough, i would def conjure up the pic mc took of cheol bc in my head it's just SAUR CUTE D:<

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