ashonheavenscloud

[ashonheavenscloud]

baby don't cry (c.j)

pairing: bf!jiung x f!reader

genre: smut 18+ mdni

warnings: crying, dacryphilia, bruises, pinv

words: 0.7k

a/n: first exam tomorrow (today actually.. it's past midnight) but i can't stop thinking about him ;c my first time writing jiung hehe enjoy xo p.s. i hope i made you proud @xhdream <3

you've always had such a hard time controlling your emotions, feeling heat rush to your cheeks and tears brim your eyes at any minor inconvenience. the smallest things made you feel so defeated, needing someone to put the pieces back together. luckily you have jiung, who lives to make it all better for you.

as much as he loves wiping your warm tear-streaked cheeks with the pad of his thumb and watching the corners of your mouth turn up as he whispers sweet things in your ear, another part of him perks when he senses you're about to break. to jiung, there's something so sweet in your expression of initial shock, those few seconds where your eyes get wide as you try to hold back tears, and how you always fail, lips jutting out in a pout before fat tears start rolling down your cheeks.

"jiunggg" your voice on the verge of tears makes him look up from his computer. one of your hands is extended towards his face, showing him four manicured nails and one broken one — the same nails he spent last night painting for you, "it broke"

and there's that pretty, heartbroken look on your face, pouty lips and glassy eyes. his heart swells in his chest at the way you look at him expectantly, how much you rely on him to fix everything. he didn't understand when you told him about your previous relationships, how your other partners found your neediness a burden. it might be jiung's favourite thing about you — he's dreamed of a girl like you, who follows him around like a puppy and needs him like she needs air to breathe.

"come here, baby. let me see" he doesn't ever coo at you, always calm and collected in contrast to your distress. "don't cry, pretty girl" he says without meaning it, his lips turning up in a lopsided grin as your tears start to fall. he guides you to straddle his lap, big hands smoothing up and down your sides as your sobs wrack your frame.

maybe it's the way you can't control yourself, your chest heaving against his broad one, arms wrapped around his shoulders and head buried in his neck, your gasps brushing his skin. maybe it's the way you're hyper-sensitive to his touch, your hiccups turning to soft whines as his slender fingers sneak under your shirt. you attach your lips to his neck, soothing yourself by getting him as close as possible, pressing your hips down to press your tummy against him.

maybe it's how vulnerable you get, mentally exhausted and physically malleable. maybe the blood rushing to jiung's cock is just an indicator of what you need to calm down, and not just an indicator of how much he likes seeing you cry. that's what he tells himself anyway as he carries you to bed, maneuvering your limbs out of your clothes and pushing your knees apart.

his gaze is set on your face when he eases his cock into you. maybe the fresh tears on your cheeks shouldn't turn him on as much as they do, but he can't help but think you look like he's already fucked you, your cheeks flushed and pupils wide, looking at him like he's the only person you see. he can't hold back the deep groan that leaves his chest as he bottoms out in your heat, slick walls squeezing him so tight. his pace is slow but unrelenting, pulling small breathy whines from you between your sniffles, sounding around the room with the steady beat of his hips against the backs of your thighs.

you're so perfect for him like this, jiung thinks, your puffy lips parting without hesitation as he pushes his thumb into your mouth, your moans getting muffled as you suck around the digit. and when he bends his neck down to bring his lips to your chest, sucking and nipping harshly to mark your skin, you just take it without so much as a few high pitches mewls. the bruises he leaves on your skin match your flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes, and he's left slack-jawed as he finishes with you, wondering how your sweet sensitivity could ever burden anyone — his perfect girl.

#IM #GOODBYEEEEEEEEE🫠🫠🫠

[ashonheavenscloud]

ot13 seventeen : giving them a blowjob

seungcheol : holds your hair back, loves when you look up at him while stretching your mouth around his dick

jeonghan : lowkey corruption kink. Will teach you how he likes it exactly. Commanding and teasing.

joshua : he's a gentleman until it comes to your mouth on his dick. Grunts and curses a lot. May pull your hair.

junhui : depending on how you give it, he'll either whimper and whine if you're sucking too hard or push your hair behind your ear and cup your cheek and praise you if you go slow and steady for him.

hoshi : expects you to give him a head whenever he's only minutely hard, especially if it's because of you. Don't even start counting how many times you have sucked his dick in the dance practice rooms and backstages.

wonwoo : soft/hard dom, depending on his mood. Will either let you suck his dick at your own pace of will hold your head and fuck his dick deep in your mouth.

jihoon : a lazy blowjob is just another tuesday in his studio when he needs to relieve some stress and you are chilling on his studio. Will have you keep his dick warm in your mouth for hours till he is done with his music (or till your jaw aches, whichever comes first)

Minghao : rarely has you suck his dick because in his dictionary sex is only for your pleasure and refuses to let you take his dick in your mouth unless you actually beg plead for it

Mingyu : literally crazy over getting blowjobs. He has that stupid eyes closed mouth open smile on his face everytime you go down on him. Loves the wet and warm feeling of your tongue and mouth all around his cock

Seokmin : you know what's the only thing better than having your girlfriend sucking off your dick? Eating her out while she is sucking off your dick. Which is why 69 is his fav foreplay

Seungkwan : most vocal. Keeps praising you and whining and moaning and groaning and cursing all together. Maybe squeezes your face between his thighs

Vernon : he'll take a blowjob every where out of bed. On couch while watching a movie? Might as well take his dick in your mouth. In shower asking him to wash your hair? What better position than you on your knees, with his dick down your throat as he massages your scalp.

Chan : He's so much turned on after coming down your throat. Also a simp so he'll call you all the beautiful names. He especially loves when you have a face full of make up and proceed to give him a sloppy blowjob just like that, making a message of his dick and your face.

#😵‍💫😵‍💫

[ashonheavenscloud]

Hi! Love your works! I had an idea if you have time to write it. How would the xdh members act/treat you when you're sick? Thank you!

you’re sick ♡

author's note. thank u sm cutie <33 thank u for requesting, i love me some xdh reqs hehe sorry for such a long wait and i hope you enjoy it!! ^_^

warnings. obv mention of being sick, meds

┆彡 GUNIL [ 건일 ]

i feel like he’d panic internally but he would make a top tier nurse

obv hates seeing you in pain so would do everything to help you recover soon

all the time by your side :(

and if he can’t bc leader duties, he’d be sure to facetime you and leave needed meds on your nightstand

but because he cares abt your health sm he can get a bit… serious about it

taking u to the doctor, making sure you eat and take ur meds on time (even if it doesn’t matter), making sure the temperature of the room is right and probably will make sure u don’t tire yourself by watching tv 🧍‍♀️

may or may not sleep on the couch while you’re sick bc he doesn’t want to get sick too :((

┆彡 GAON [ 가온 ]

confused chick.exe

poor bby doesn’t really know what to do :(

you’ll probably end up taking care of urself lmao but he’s there to help

like,, will go to the doctor with you or hand you the meds

or buy them but only when you specifically tell him the name and all the info, even the color of the pills

he’s just scared he’ll buy some kind of wrong meds and you’ll end up getting worse :(

makes the best warm tea tho like <3

but! he’s not scared to sleep n cuddle with you, even when you’re all sniffly 🥹

┆彡 JUNGSU [ 정수 ]

sigh i love him

so so tender and soft and just :((

brushes your hair out of your face when it sticks to your forehead bc of the sweat :((

puts up w all ur moody moments, from cuddles bc you’re cold to listening patiently when you’re whining bc your nose is stuffed

calls him mom to ask for help what to doooo <\\3

brings u her soup (believes it will heal you)

sits w u all day, even if it means getting sick too eventually

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

will approach you in a mask and gloves type of guy LMAOO

no but he’s very cautious

however, you’ll get well in no time

knows exactly what’s up and exactly which meds he needs to buy for u

knows all those granny tricks for speedy recovery

and they work too??

will urge u to sleep a lot

now and then will sneak a kiss on your forehead “to check if your body temperature is right”

┆彡 JUNHAN [ 준한 ]

he panics sm gosh but eventually calms down and googles everything

btw he found out that apparently you’ll die in two days bc it’s a heart attack symptoms (a regular cold)

makes sure u take all the meds needed and prepares warm soups n teas

but also if there’s an option to buy a flavoured cough syrup or medicine in general, he’ll pick those in ur fav flavours or those who he thinks won’t taste as bitter :(

will be your personal heater if u get cold

hated seeing u in pain so sneakily will make everything to make u fall asleep,, scratching your back gently, playing with your hair, cuddling…

will not hesitate to throw out used tissues after u blew ur nose and missed the bin

well probably end up sick immediately after u get well so….. how the turn tables,, pls take care of him ^_^

┆彡 JOOYEON [ 주연 ]

madness. chaos. disorder.

probably gets sick like day after you

totally not bc he drink from ur water bottle on accident n such

you just call gunil.

he brings u all the necessities while u cuddle with joo and watch tv or nap

sometimes he’ll make a soup or a warm dish but bc of his stuffed nose majority of the dish is burnt

(he swears he didn’t smell it burning…)

checks ur temperature often tho, wants to make sure it’s not dangerous

good luck sleeping w him tho like,, if u get hot at night he doesn’t care….. he will stick to u as if he was attached by glue

you complain it’s sweaty and gross but he doesn’t really care >:T

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist.  @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @mirxzii ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang ,, @nfrgirl ,, @crxzs

#CUTEEEE :((((

[ashonheavenscloud]

oh mickey you're so fine

#byeeeeeeee🫠

[ashonheavenscloud]

this picture has fixed me

#i love him i love him i love him i love him

[ashonheavenscloud]

bf! intak who falls asleep on your shoulder during car rides and plane rides instead of the other way around. probably drools a little too, but you don’t have it in you to wake him up because his eyes are half opened and his cheek is completely smooshed. so endearing, it would be a crime to disturb him :(

bf! intak who blushes furiously when you kiss his cheek. kisses on the lips are phenomenal, and they are his absolute favorite—but there’s something so sweet about you giving him a kiss on the cheek, especially when you have to stand on your tippy toes and rest your hands on his chest.

proceeds to hold your hands where they rest, looking down to hide the flustered, dorky smile that takes over his features.

“one more” he’ll ask, giving you the softest, pleading eyes. “please?”

bf! intak who blows raspberries on your tummy, and kisses it after. who also has a habit of playing with your fingers, or your rings if you’re wearing any. who has to be touching you at all times, whether it’s a hand on your hip, or your knee, or the small of your back. has to be touching you, and if he isn’t because you’re not nearby, he’ll perk his head up, and look around until he spots you. jogs over and fits his hand into yours with a kiss to your knuckles, mumbling “i was wondering where you went :(“ “but it’s okay!” he beams “cause i found you!”

bf! intak who wakes you up by accident every morning when his lips press into your shoulder or your neck or your jaw. the funny thing is: he’s still asleep. he’s kissing you and nuzzling into you in his sleep with his warm cheek pressing against yours and his hair tickling your face. his arm pulls you tighter to him when you stir, and finally, he wakes up when you stretch, in fear that you actually meant to get up.

“don’t get up yet… please, you’re s’warm..”

“intak, baby, i was just stretching.”

“come closer >:(“

scowls but with his eyes closed until you’re completely wrapped around him and under the mountain of blankets again.

bf! intak who always insists on showering with you. 9/10 times, he’s in there with you, and 6/10 times, it isn’t even sexual. he’s making a mohawk out of your hair with shampoo, and molding his own hair to match with a silly grin on his face. he’s scrubbing your face wash lovingly onto your cheeks and kissing your nose as you smile up at him (then proceeds to wash his face like a MAN all rough and crazy, which earns him a bit of a scolding from you). he holds you under the water and steals little pecks as the water bill gets higher and higher (at this point, you would’ve saved more water taking separate showers).

if you guys are playing music he’s singing loudly between giggles and designating parts so that you guys can put on a little concert. If there’s no music then he’s bickering with you about how you’re hogging the hot water, so he pushes you out of the way. only stays there for a few seconds though, cause the thought of you being cold makes his heart break a little. switches sides with you again with a little feigned annoyance, but even when you insist you aren’t cold he convinces you to stay under the hot stream.

bf! intak who tries his best to cook for you, following recipes of foods you’ve liked to the very last detail. refuses to let you help, but will allow you to sit on the counter as his personal cheerleader so he can steal a kiss or two or ten as he works.

is so careful to measure everything right, letting you try it along the way (only after he’s approved of the taste himself). watches for your reaction so so eagerly and smiles SO big if you say it’s good.

bf! intak who loves being praised by you. sometimes even fishes for compliments because any kind of approval from makes his heart so full and makes him feel so loved! “don’t i look handsome today?” or “did i do a good job?”

whether you compliment his outfit or his looks, or you simply tell him thank you for something, he’s over the moon

bf! intak who is has such a huge heart and gives it over to you completely. it’s yours! so don’t break it. falls first and falls harder, from the very first moment he sees you is so whipped. willing to give you absolutely everything and anything you want.

is so gentle, so considerate, so caring, so intak.

truly your best friend & lover all in one.

#insane. insane insane insane. bringing an arrest warrant. lock your doors.

[ashonheavenscloud]

Just shy virgin Eric yk?

That's the whole ask..

shy virgin eric with a big dick and no idea how to use it <3

he's so worried that he's not going to be any good at it, that he's gonna disappoint you and you spend the entire makeout session telling him that he's perfect and that you don't care, you're learning together anyways. in between kisses, he makes you promise to tell him if he's not doing something right or if it isn't feeling good so he can fix it.

"baby," he murmurs as you pull away for the nth time, trailing kisses across his jawline and neck. "seriously, you gotta tell me if i need to do something different. i... i wanna make you feel good."

you nod against him, the top of your head bumping against his jaw as you press one, two, three soft little kisses to his shoulder. he smiles a little bit, letting his fingers dip under the hem of your shirt and leaning his head against yours.

"promise, eric. wanna make you feel good too."

fifteen minutes later, he's got your legs hooked around his waist, your head sinking into the soft pillows, biting at your lip as he thrusts into you. one of his hands is braced in front of him, fingers curling dangerously into the headboard as he watches your expression underneath him. you look so blissed out, eyes all glazed over and soft, mouth falling open in quiet, broken little moans. he's got you like this and still, he wonders if you really feel all that good or if you're faking it so he'll feel better about himself.

"you feelin' good, baby?" he asks, bending down closer to you to brush his nose against yours and kiss you. "i'm doin' it right?"

you nod almost frantically, staring up at him with big, round eyes. they're glossed over and he swears it looks like you're about to cry. he doesn't know what he'll do if he sees tears.

"feels so good, eric," you respond in a tinny whimper. your voice trembles with every word and he feels your fingers tangle in his hair to pull his lips back to yours, your heels press into the small of his back to keep him from pulling out of you. "so good. please, please don't stop."

his heart swells a little bit and he can feel butterflies in his tummy. he's proud of himself, sure, but he's mostly just so in love with you that it's almost impossible to contain it. he lets you keep kissing him, presses himself to you as best he can without hindering his movements. he's not gonna stop making you feel good until you tell him you've had enough. it's what you deserve, he's decided, for being so good for him.

"won't stop, baby. promise," he says, kissing you once, twice, only pulling back because he wants to see the fucked out expression on your face again. he's obsessed. "you feel good too. so fucking good. wanna have you like this forever."

#absolutely fucking insane

[ashonheavenscloud]

i’m. insane, quite frankly. this was SO good i’m axtually floored. the prose, dialogue, story, minghao???? himself???? his characterization???? i’m never getting over this. thank you for writing and sharing this. gonna be screaming about this forever

to love easily

pairing: non-idol!minghao x fem!reader

genre: fake dating / angst / smut / non-idol au

words: 13.5k

rating: strictly 18+, stay safe out there 🫶

warnings: heavy mention of cheating and resulting trauma, fem reader, food consumption, kissing, dirty talk, pet name (darling), very explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), penetration (vaginal), some angst but more fluff, some marking, I'm sure there's more but you'll have to read to find out hehe

a/n: drum roll please.......... ta da! at long last, I've written for the namesake of this blog, the actual love of my life xu minghao! I hope y'all enjoy reading this one, it was such a joy to write and I'm excited to be able to share it with you! please like or reblog if you like it and thank you for reading!

synopsis: fake dating the beautiful stranger you met in the men’s room: what could go wrong?

~ DAY ONE ~

When you burst through the men’s bathroom door like a bat out of hell, you weren’t quite sure why you were surprised to find a boy on the other side.

Luckily, he wasn’t doing anything worthy of sprinting back out for. The boy stood at the row of old, slightly rusted sinks, the water running but not actually washing his hands. He had frozen the second the door opened, actually, which you figured was a pretty appropriate reaction.

And he was staring at you. Black hair hung into wide eyes, glasses you suspected he didn’t really need perched on the bridge of his nose.

Your chest heaved as you tried and failed to catch your breath. For all your many talents, running was not one of them. You offered a tired wave. “Sorry,” you panted, “I’ll just be a moment, promise.”

“What… are you doing.”

Phrased like a question, but not quite. You squinted at the boy as the automatic sink finally shut off, plunging the bathroom into silence. He straightened to his full height and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, appraising you warily. The boy knew how to dress, you’d give him that.

“Is there anyone else in here?” You demanded.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

The boy made a show of looking around, allowing his eyes to slide back to you after concluding the two of you were obviously alone. He shrugged. Not much for words, this one.

You finally managed to catch your breath enough to speak in coherent sentences. “Look, my ex-boyfriend is out there, okay?”

“Is that really a dire enough situation to warrant hiding in the men’s room?”

You scoffed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but his new girlfriend is with him. Who also happens to be my used-to-be-best-friend, okay? I’m not hiding, I’m saving everyone a headache.”

The boy grimaced. “Sounds messy. Well, good luck with that—”

“Do you have a name?” You interrupted. The boy levelled an impatient look at you over his fake glasses. When he said nothing you blurted your own name, at which his lips pressed into a hard line.

After what could have been hours of tense silence, the boy sighed. “Minghao. My friends call me Hao.”

“Nice to meet you, Hao.”

“You can call me Minghao.”

Despite his severe tone and the fact he definitely wasn’t joking, you laughed. You stuck out a hand for him to shake, more than pleased when he raised his own to meet yours halfway. He wore several delicate silver rings on his fingers, his skin slightly damp against yours from the sink. You took some solace in the knowledge he’d been able to finish washing his hands before you barged into the bathroom.

You froze, your hand still clasped in Minghao’s, at the sound of two horribly familiar voices on the other side of the door. The deeper of which was getting suspiciously close.

“Shit.” You moved before you could think better of it. You inadvertently dragged Minghao with you into the closest stall, managing to slam it shut and lock it mere seconds before the bathroom door opened.

“I’ll wait out here, okay?” Chaeyoung’s voice floated in from the hallway, as high and pretty-sounding as ever. Footsteps echoed as your ex-boyfriend crossed the tile floor to the urinals on the opposite wall.

You gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you not to listen to the sound of your ex-boyfriend’s piss. Minghao, looking hopelessly confused, opened his mouth to say something and glared down at you when you immediately covered his lips with your hand.

Don’t even think about it, you shouted with your eyes.

Minghao cocked an eyebrow, something akin to mischief shining in his eyes. Oh, I’m definitely thinking about it now.

To your despair, Minghao cleared his throat. Even through the barrier of your hand the sound echoed, and you scowled at the floor as your ex finished his business and washed his hands. It was good that he did, you thought. You hadn’t been convinced he was a dedicated hand-washer before.

You didn’t release the painful breath in your lungs until the bathroom door clicked shut behind him. Minghao immediately shook off your hand over his mouth and massaged his jaw, gazing down at you with mild dislike.

“I implied you were dramatic before, but I was wrong. That was dramatic.”

You rolled your eyes and unlocked the stall, marching out into open floorspace. Minghao followed, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

You ran your hands over your face, now attempting to catch your breath for an entirely different reason than before. That was a close call, too close, and you were certain you’d never be able to live it down if you were caught in the boy’s bathroom with a total stranger.

“I’m sorry, that was out of line.” You glanced up at Minghao for all of one second before your embarrassment got the better of you and you looked down again. “I don’t even know why I dragged you in there with me, you would’ve been fine out here.”

He looked you up and down, allowing the silence to drag on for long enough that your skin prickled with unease. You took the opportunity to appraise him, as well. You’d be damned if you let some random college guy in a bathroom make you feel small.

Minghao’s hair, you realized now, was cut into a tasteful mullet. He wore some variation of streetwear, though you recognized the logos of a luxury brand or two as you examined him. Was he rich or just really into fashion? Maybe both, though you suspected it was more of the latter.

“Your boyfriend is Joshua Hong?”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you corrected sourly. “But yeah. We dated for two years before I caught those two in bed together.”

Minghao didn’t react, which you weren’t sure how to feel about. He didn’t seem to pity you, at least. You were so sick of people pitying you. “I have a proposition for you,” he said neutrally.

“No, I won’t have sex with you.” You answered immediately.

Minghao smiled humorlessly. “If we have sex, darling, I won’t be the one asking for it.” He ignored your scowl and continued calmly, “I think I have an idea that can fix your problem.”

You tried to let it go, you really did, but curiosity swiftly got the better of you. With an aggrieved sigh, you motioned impatiently for him to go on.

“Go out with me.”

“What?”

“You heard me just fine. I don’t mean actually, of course, but no one else needs to know that. There’s nothing to make the ex jealous like dating someone new.” He spoke like it was the most normal thing in the word. Like the prospect of fake-dating someone was completely logical.

Your mouth opened and closed several times, completely unable to form words. “We go to a big university but it’s not that big,” you choked out. “Some people are bound to remember you and I have never spoken before today.”

“So? People form new, spontaneous relationships every day.”

That was true enough. You eyed him warily, trying to find any hints of ulterior motives in his cool exterior. Unfortunately, Minghao didn’t waver an inch. He stared back at you with an expectant smile, obviously anticipating you to agree, and it was around this time that you realized he was intimidatingly handsome.

“Why? What’s in this for you?” You asked.

He waved a dismissive hand between you. “It doesn’t matter. Just know this is a mutually-beneficial agreement. Think about it, you know I’m right.”

You couldn’t decide whether you wanted to kiss him for his great idea or punch him because he’d thought of it before you.

“For how long?” You asked. With every passing second you came closer to folding.

Minghao considered for a moment, staring at a point somewhere over your head. “Six weeks. That’s a month-and-a-half—if Joshua isn’t begging to have you back by then it means he probably won’t.”

Ouch. He was right, you figured. You did want Joshua to beg for you back, but you had absolutely zero intention of actually saying yes to him if he did. His and Chaeyoung’s actions had cut far too deep to heal back to the way it was before. There was a jagged, metaphorical scar that would probably give you grief until the day you died.

Without another word or attempt to convince yourself otherwise, you stuck your hand out in front of you again. Minghao’s eyes fell to it. They widened slightly, your only indication that at least some part of him had doubted that you would say yes.

“You’ve got a deal, Minghao. The arrangement will last six weeks—no more, no less.”

Minghao smiled down at you, the sight only confirming your suspicion that he was very handsome. His long, delicate fingers grasped yours, gentler this time than when you’d shook his hand to introduce yourself.

“Six weeks,” he agreed. “No less.”

You took a deep, steadying breath. What the hell had you just gotten yourself into?

~ DAY EIGHT ~

“Why are you making me go to a football game, again?”

“Because I’m president of the photography club and I have to be there. If we’re dating that means you do, too.”

“But Joshua’s on the football team,” you lamented.

“Even better. Who knows, maybe I’ll get a candid shot of him eating his heart out.”

Despite yourself, you grinned. You figured out more every day that Minghao was genuinely funny when he wanted to be.

It had been a little over a week since the incident in the bathroom. As you’d mentioned in passing, the university you went to was big, but Minghao somehow managed to find you wherever you were.

The day after the restroom debacle, you’d been eating lunch by yourself in a dining hall close to your apartment. It was a struggle not to mope, most days, especially when this dining hall was one you used to frequent with Joshua. Your ex-boyfriend himself had strode into the building right as you took a massive bite of your soggy sandwich, Chaeyoung perched on his arm. It was moments like those that really made you consider arson, but your urge to light things on fire dissipated the moment Minghao plopped into the booth at your side.

He'd offered you a lazy grin and slung his arm over your shoulders before you could protest. Don’t freak out, his eyes told you. The arrangement, remember?

It had taken every ounce of strength in your body to heed his silent warning. Rather than let your surprise show, you’d offered him a wide smile and leaned further into his side. Foolishly you’d planted a sloppy kiss on the edge of his jaw—that was something couples did in public, right?—and immediately flushed with embarrassment.

It worked, though. The one time you dared to look, Joshua kept glancing over at you, mingled confusion and worry lighting his face.

It continued like that for the next week. Minghao made you give him your phone number and text him your class schedule, which he exchanged for his. He showed up to your classes anytime he could, waiting outside in the hall so he could walk you to your next one. He began eating lunch with you in the same dining hall as the first time and put extra effort into his boyfriend façade when Joshua was around.

Outside of that, though, you tended not to speak to one another. He didn’t text, so you didn’t bother to either. He hadn’t yet asked you on a date off-campus, something which simultaneously relieved and disappointed you. You knew you’d have to, eventually, and going to the football game with him seemed like a good way to dip your toe in the water.

Minghao waved his hand in front of your face, forcing you back to the present. “Well? Are you coming with me or not? You can’t deny this is a perfect opportunity for operation jealousy.”

You sighed, but it was mainly for dramatic effect. You both knew you would say yes, especially when things like this were the whole point of your fake relationship, anyway. “Yeah, I’ll come with. Don’t expect me to start making out with you every time they score a touchdown, though.”

The smile Minghao gave you was downright diabolical. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

-----

For all your protesting, the football game was actually kind of fun. Really fun. On a good day you didn’t know the first thing about football, so you tended to watch games based on vibes alone. Today, your university was leading 4-0 and Joshua was playing poorly, hopelessly distracted by the way you hung off Minghao’s arm on the edge of the field. The vibes were immaculate.

Minghao shifted so he stood behind you, looping his camera strap over your head so you could hold the camera while keeping your back pressed to his front. Your mind hyper-focused on the way his chest brushed your shoulders on every inhale. He was blissfully warm, especially when contrasted with the brisk November air around you.

“I already adjusted the settings for you. All you have to do is point and shoot.”

You lifted the camera so you could squint through the viewfinder. “Point and shoot. Got it.”

Minghao made it look way easier than it really was. He’d taken you to the photo lab a few days ago so you could talk through the details of your arrangement, speaking lowly under red light while his pictures developed. Every photo you took turned out just blurry enough that it was unusable, save for one or two shots of the crowd.

He didn’t seem to mind. At some points he rested his chin on top of your head while the two of you flipped through pictures you’d taken. At others his hands drifted up your forearms to your wrists, his fingertips raising goosebumps across your skin. He was good, you had to give him that. If you weren’t careful, you would start to believe his act.

The crowd went wild at something you didn’t see. You raised the camera like it was a gun, searching wildly for what had caused the ruckus. “What happened? What did I miss?”

Minghao chuckled in your ear. “Joshua just got the ball thirty yards closer to the endzone in one play. It’s impressive.”

You scowled, unconvinced. “Yeah, well I’d like to see him not cheat on one of his girlfriends. That I’d be impressed with.”

Minghao laughed again. You pointedly ignored the swell of warmth in your chest at the sound. He raised the camera until the strap lifted over your head, freeing you once again. You stepped away from him, more for your sanity than anything else, and rolled your tense shoulders.

“How many innings are left?” You asked. He just stared at you, his eyebrows raised so high they disappeared behind his hair. “Close your mouth, you’re going to catch flies.”

Without a word, Minghao raised the camera and snapped a picture of you. You narrowed your eyes, confused. He tugged on the end of one of your braids. “There aren’t innings in football, darling. You’re thinking of baseball.”

Embarrassment flooded your cheeks. “Damn. I promise I’m not stupid, I’m just not much of a sports girl. Not these types of sports, anyway.”

Minghao nodded knowingly. “At least you’re pretty.” Did he really mean it or was he just teasing you? Usually that phrase was meant to be mean-spirited, but you could never really tell with him. “What sports are you referring to?”

“Hockey, mainly. But competitive swimming was always my favorite sport in the summer Olympics, so.”

He gave you a strange look like he was trying to hold in a laugh. “Weirdly enough, that makes sense for you.”

“Yeah, well.” You gestured to the field in front of you, scanning the players for the dreaded #05. You found Joshua just in time to watch him blow a kiss to Chaeyoung on the other side of the field, her cheerleading outfit glittering under the stadium lights. You exhaled heavily through your nose. They were perfect together. Straight out of some college romcom—you never stood a chance.

Minghao noticed what had drawn your attention. He took another photo of you staring across the field and approached to stand at your side again. “Her hair looks hideous.”

“No it doesn’t.”

He tugged on one of your braids again. “No. It doesn’t,” he conceded. “I’m trying to help you feel better.”

You appreciated it, you really did. Appreciated him. This past week had been the best you’d had since Joshua cheated on you, something you didn’t realize until this moment. For several seconds, you just stared at him. Minghao stared back, his expression unreadable. He’d lost the fake glasses—blue light glasses, he’d corrected—for the game tonight, his eyes a warm brown without them.

Before you could respond, the crowd erupted into screams. You whipped around to face the field, your eyes straining to find what was happening in the cacophony of male bodies.

There. Joshua had the ball. And he was running—sprinting for the endzone twenty yards away. Despite yourself, despite your anger and hurt with him, your heart squeezed painfully. Your blood sang, urging him to run faster. You might have yelled it, doing some sort of awkward side-trot along the field with him. Minghao did the same, obviously as invested in the score as you were. He kept his camera raised as he did, continuously snapping pictures of the action.

Several members of the other team closed in on him, but Joshua only pushed himself faster. He narrowly dodged the two men that attempted to tackle him and, in a display of athleticism that stunned you, dove across the line into the endzone.

The noise that followed was deafening. You jumped and screamed along with the crowd, just for a moment forgetting about everything weighing on your mind. Minghao’s long arms encircled your waist and he lifted you off the ground so he could spin in a wide circle with you. You laughed so hard your cheeks hurt, joy bubbling in your chest.

The crowd was still shouting when Minghao finally set you back on your feet. You kept your arms around his shoulders. He made no move to release your waist, either, grinning down at you the same way you beamed up at him.

Later, you would blame it on the heat of the moment. The stadium’s screams, the fact Joshua had just scored what would likely be the winning touchdown, the blinding lights—yes, it had to be that. Regardless, you looked into the stars in Minghao’s eyes and pressed your lips to his without thinking.

The kiss was barely more than a second. You shocked yourself so thoroughly that you pulled away immediately, you and Minghao staring at one another with equal expressions of surprise. But without warning, he crushed his lips to yours again. They were softer than you’d imagined as they slid against yours, Minghao exploring your mouth with languid curiosity.

Your heart felt like it would pound out of your chest. You allowed your hands to timidly drift from his shoulders to the back of his neck, then gently tangle in the roots of his hair. Despite the riot of noise all around you, Joshua being carried on the shoulders of his teammates in celebration, all you could focus on was the feeling of kissing Minghao.

He pulled away after what could have been seconds or hours, his breathing erratic. He stared down at you for a moment and took a step back, releasing you once more. You swayed on your feet a bit after his sudden retreat out of your personal space.

“I just had to check,” he said through a heavy exhale.

“Check what?”

Minghao shook his head as if to clear it. “Nothing.”

You turned your attention back to the game and ignored the shaking in your hands. What the hell just happened?

~ DAY TWENTY-TWO ~

“I think we need to have rules,” you said around a bite of your sandwich.

Minghao raised an eyebrow. “Rules? Why?” He continued poking at his pasta, cutting individual noodles into perfect, tiny squares.

You cleared your throat, aware of the self-conscious heat creeping up your neck. “At the game you, uh, kissed me. Well, I kissed you, but then you kissed me—whatever.” Minghao looked down at his food instead of you, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable. “I know it was just the excitement of the game, I don’t want you to think I expect anything out of you now.”

“I think it’s a little late to establish rules,” he said, finally taking a bite of his strangely diced pasta. “We’re already halfway through the arrangement.”

Your mouth fell open. “We are?” You did the mental math, the surprise shocking you into silence for several seconds. It felt like a week had passed, not a little over three. You had spent almost every day with Minghao, even if it was just for a few minutes between classes on campus. Other days you did things like this, going out for dinner and sometimes studying afterwards, sometimes not. You tried not to dwell on the fact you and Minghao had begun hanging out even when you knew Joshua wouldn’t be around.

Minghao smiled knowingly at you. There was a familiar look in his eyes nowadays, one that was somewhere between affection and thinking you’re a dumbass. “Cat got your tongue?”

You stuck said tongue out at him. “Well, my point still stands. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to trap you or anything just because we kissed once.”

“I don’t think that.”

Great, super helpful. “Hao. Help me out here.”

His smile dropped, his expression turning contemplative. “Fine. How about… no more kissing? At least, not unless you ask.” He wiggled his eyebrows and you frowned.

“That won’t happen. I think we should just tack no sex on there too, while we’re at it.” At your words, Minghao’s face changed to mirror your frown.

“Fine. No sex.” He considered for another moment. “Is the point of this arrangement for you to get back together with Josh?”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ sound for emphasis. In a way, the conviction with which you said it surprised you. Until now, you weren’t exactly sure how you felt about the end-goal of your fake relationship. If not to win Joshua back, what was the point? “He chose Chaeyoung, end of story. I think I’m more interested in giving him hell by being happier without him.” You smiled mischievously and Minghao snorted.

“As you should. Fine, then next rule: either of us can end the relationship at any time. If one of us decides we’re done then that’s it, no questions asked.”

For reasons you didn’t understand, your heart swooped into your stomach. You forced a swallow. “Okay.” After a beat of hesitation you plastered a teasing smile onto your face. “You’re not trying to fake-break up with me, are you?”

Thankfully, Minghao laughed. “No, darling.” He smiled when you scowled. “I enjoy the look on your face when I call you ‘darling’ far too much for that.”

“Fine, fine.” You took another bite of your sandwich, chewing slowly.

“Is that all?” Minghao asked.

“One more.” You held up a finger while you finished the sandwich in your mouth and tried not to choke. Anxiety gnawed at the edges of your mind. You weren’t quite sure how he would react to your last rule. “No falling in love. It would just complicate things unnecessarily. Even though you’ve told me that there’s no one else, I don’t believe you.”

“Why?”

“You have that look. I don’t know, I can just tell. You’re in love with someone but you won’t tell me who she is.”

Minghao stared at you, completely silent. His expression had gone back to the unreadable mask he’d frequently worn at the beginning of this whole thing. You hated it.

“Well?” You pushed.

Like someone had pressed play on a remote, Minghao resumed cutting and eating his pasta. “There’s no one else, but okay. I agree.”

You leaned forward. “Are you sure about that?”

He looked up at you through his eyelashes, his expression resolute. “What do you want me to say? There isn’t. I’ve gotten used to you these past few weeks. I’m having fun and I don’t care to have it with anyone else at the moment.”

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms over your chest, evaluating him through narrowed eyes. He looked casual enough—he didn’t have to force the words out and there were no physical indications that he was lying. Minghao, apparently sensing your energy, set down his fork and mimicked your stance.

“Do you want me to break it off with you?” He asked neutrally.

“What? Of course not.”

“It seems like you do.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that. You didn’t, not at all. In fact, you were far enough into this… thing with him that you worried how you’d react after this arrangement was over. Would you replace being heartbroken over Joshua with being heartbroken over Hao?

When you said nothing, Minghao continued, “The same goes for you, you know. If someone you like tries to pursue you I’ll step aside. Even if it’s Joshua.” His face turned abruptly nervous and he swallowed. “However, I want to talk to you about something—”

“Did you say my name?”

Every ounce of curiosity at what he’d been about to say turned to ash at the voice that interrupted him.

You didn’t want to turn around. You didn’t need the confirmation that it was Joshua standing behind you, anyway. Minghao’s eyes raised to your ex-boyfriend’s face, his expression holding poorly-concealed dislike. He gave him a saccharine smile that you didn’t believe for a second.

“Joshua. What brings you here?”

He was standing far too close to your chair. Even though you still wouldn’t turn to look at him you could feel his presence behind you like a looming shadow.

“I’m meeting Chaeyoung for dinner. It’s our six-month anniversary today.”

Six months. You thought you might vomit. You knew Joshua had cheated on you, obviously, but according to this timeline he had gotten with Chaeyoung over four months before you caught them.

Minghao’s eyes flicked to you, fast enough that you could’ve imagined the worry in them. “Is that so?”

“You two are dating, then?” Joshua completely ignored Minghao’s pointed question. You knew he was addressing you without having to see his face.

You cleared your throat as a way to buy yourself time to breathe. “Yeah, we are. A little over a month now.” You were too afraid to exaggerate yours and Minghao’s relationship timeline any more than that. Joshua was known to poke holes in anything until it broke, especially when it was you.

At last, you turned to look at him. Joshua was smiling down at you, an expression that didn’t reach his eyes. Months of heartbreak surged to the surface and you pressed your lips into a hard line to keep your face from betraying your emotions.

“I didn’t know you two knew each other, Hao.”

Hao? Since when did Joshua know Minghao? Let alone well enough to call him Hao. You threw a carefully blank glance in Minghao’s direction, one he was smart enough to look nervous at.

“We met at school.”

Joshua stared at him like he expected him to continue, then looked slightly uncomfortable when he remained silent. You tried to squash your pleasure at this. It seemed Joshua didn’t know Minghao well enough to be used to the fact he was a man of few words.

“Did you need something, Josh?” You asked, your voice strained. You lied as convincingly as you could, “Neither of us said your name.”

He looked back down at you. “Oh. No, then. Just stopping by to say hi, I guess. I wish you two the best of luck with… this.”

Joshua hesitated before walking away, following a host to a booth in the corner of the restaurant.

Your eyes bore holes in the plate in front of you. You wrung your hands beneath the table, attempting to slow your racing heart. A cacophony of emotions stampeded through your mind, moving too quickly to focus on any of them individually.

This plan was stupid. You were three weeks into your fake relationship with Minghao and what did you have to show for it? Anxiety that Joshua somehow knew you were lying? Even though you’d begun to feel better in your new friend’s presence, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he repeated your name to get your attention.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t speak until you mastered the stinging in your eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“Don’t push me, Hao.” You raised your eyes to his face, aware of the redness in them without having to see yourself. Minghao’s face was hard with concern and he held eye contact until you broke and looked away. “You’re on a first-name basis with him?”

He was silent for a long moment, considering his words. “Yes. We used to be close.”

You released a controlled exhale, continuing to hide your shaking hands under the table. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wouldn’t have helped.”

“I had a right to know.”

“Yes, you did. Hey—” Minghao reached across the table so he could lift your chin with his fingertips, forcing you to look at him “—I wasn’t trying to hurt you by not telling you. You know that, right?”

You didn’t answer. You leaned back in your seat so that his hand was no longer touching your face. Seemingly disappointed, he withdrew it and folded his hands together on the table in front of him.

“When we met, you said this arrangement would be mutually beneficial.” Your throat was thick enough that you had trouble asking the question nagging at you. “Is it because of Joshua?”

Minghao’s answer was immediate. “No. I want nothing from him.”

You wanted to slap yourself at the involuntary relief that surged through you. You took several calming breaths, all too aware that Chaeyoung had just arrived for her date with Joshua. As much as you didn’t want to look, you watched through your periphery as they embraced and took their seats.

“I need to go home.”

Minghao seemed like he wanted to protest. He opened and closed his mouth but produced no sound. At last, he nodded tightly. This time, you weren’t sure if it was relief or extreme disappointment that bloomed in your chest.

When you stood, you held your head high. You threw some cash on the table for your meal, which Minghao deeply frowned at. Wordlessly, you squared your shoulders and walked away, aware of Minghao’s eyes following you until you disappeared onto the street outside.

It wasn’t until you were safely in your car that you finally allowed yourself to cry.

~ DAY THIRTY ~

Minghao decided, with very little planning, to take you on an I’m-sorry-I-hurt-your-feelings-and-you-cried-over-Joshua date. Or something like that. He settled on taking you to a hockey game.

He knew little to nothing about hockey, but you didn’t mind. The two of you had made up about the confrontation with Joshua last week. Or rather, you had finally decided to stop being angry with him. You had wasted a precious four days locked in your apartment, ignoring his texts and calls while you tried to sort out your feelings. So what if he and Joshua had been friends before? You had no more ownership over him than he did of you.

Strangely, your time apart hadn’t helped. If anything, it only made your yearning for him worse. You kept having the urge to talk to your best friend about him—to scream and cry until it dissolved into healing giggles and easy conversation. Only, Minghao was your best friend nowadays. After losing both Joshua and Chaeyoung in one fell swoop, the man beside you now was basically your only friend. Your person.

So, you allowed him to take you to the hockey game. You shared stale popcorn and egregiously large soft drinks, appropriately cheering and booing where necessary. You explained the rules of hockey as best you knew how, though the old woman eavesdropping behind you corrected you on multiple occasions. You had fun. A stupid, concerning amount of fun.

Halfway through you glanced over at him and realized that you loved him. It was sudden enough to steal the breath from your lungs. You didn’t allow yourself to commit to the idea of being in love with him, but your denial could only go so far. You loved him all the same.

He caught you staring and gifted you a brilliant smile. Minghao had somehow managed to become your best friend and sort-of-lover in the span of a month, and you suddenly couldn’t imagine your life without him.

You had no idea if he felt the same, but you decided then that you didn’t want to find out. Even if he did, Joshua had ruined you for anyone else. You weren’t in love with him anymore, not by any means, but you suddenly couldn’t trust anyone who dared try to be a romantic partner. Even Minghao.

On your way out of the game, he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his arm slung comfortably over your shoulder. It was around this time, while Minghao gazed down at you with genuine affection in his eyes, that you realized what deep shit you were in.

~ DAY THIRTY-FOUR ~

 “If I see you take one more picture of me I’m going to throw your camera in the river.”

Minghao didn’t laugh at your threat. Instead, you heard another conspicuous click as he took the hundredth photo of your side-profile. You didn’t look at him, still shielding the sun from your eyes and reclining lazily on the sloped grass. It was freezing outside, to say the least, but it was the first day in a week the sun had made an appearance.

The two of you laid out on a grassy hill along the river, bundled in three layers each and soaking up what little December sun you could. Minghao, in his usual fashion, had brought his camera and spent the past hour taking pictures of you.

“If you do that who’s going to know you died of hypothermia out here?”

You scowled in his direction without opening your eyes. “Oh, I’m not worried about that. I’m sure you’ll shout it from the rooftops.”

Minghao sighed. You half-listened to the sounds of him laying back on the grass beside you, your bodies barely touching from shoulder to knee. Goosebumps erupted on your skin everywhere you touched, even through your combined layers of clothing. You mentally reprimanded yourself for the involuntary reaction.

There was one week left in the arrangement. One single week before your fake break-up. You hadn’t brought up your relationship’s impending doom. Neither had he. As if he sensed the direction your thoughts had taken, Minghao’s long fingers sought yours on the grass. He tangled your hands but made no move to touch you further. You couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or aggravated.

“What are we doing?” Minghao’s quiet words surprised you. Not only because he’d broken the careful silence he so revered, but because it was the question you’d been wishing he’d ask for weeks. In truth, you hadn’t expected him to.

“We’re cloud watching.”

“Darling.” You flinched at that one word, so softly spoken. A plea, a warning, an affectionate reprimand—you would never understand how Minghao was able to convey so much with so little.

“I hate that you call me that.” Minghao’s head turned to face you, a look you didn’t return. If you looked at him now, your resolve would surely crack. You forced yourself to stay strong—you only had one week left. One week, then you could get out of this with your heart unscathed.

“Sometimes I think I don’t like you very much.”

The hurt was immediate. You finally turned your head to look at him, every thought rushing from your brain at the way his eyes burned into you. Your hurt rolled off you in subtle waves, despite your fierce attempt to hide it.

“Why?” You whispered.

“Because you make me wonder.”

That gave you pause. In all honesty, you had no idea what he meant. You voiced your confusion aloud, albeit softly, like you were trying very hard not to scare him away. Minghao still hadn’t released your hand, his skin warm and dry against yours. Despite the brisk winter air, the few small places your bodies touched warmed you enough not to notice.

“You make me wonder.” He repeated himself and shrugged, like it was the simplest explanation in the world. “I’ve never been one to believe in things like fate or destiny or whatever else the romantics tell us to dream for. I was very peaceful before all this, you know. I had my camera and a regular schedule and the few friends who stuck around after we graduated high school. Every day was simple, but I’ve always preferred it that way. Then you crashed into the men’s bathroom like a bat out of hell and… now I wonder.”

The breath had long since been stolen from your chest. “What do you wonder about?”

A ghost of a smile flickered on his face, its beauty there and gone in an instant. “I wonder about fate and destiny and the things romantics tell me to dream for. I always thought it was disappointing to watch the people around me fall in love. A waste of potential, or something like that. People become so wrapped up in those they love that it leaves little time for everything else.

“Yet here we are. The majority of the pictures on my camera are of you. When Joshua made you cry at dinner I thought I was going to tear his throat out with my teeth, and I am not a violent person. I could see so clearly, for the first time, what type of person he made you when you were together. Small and helpless and sad—nothing like the fierce girl that came into my life like a fucking hurricane and stole my peace right out from under me.”

Your chest was painfully tight now. “Hao, stop.”

He didn’t. “I value sleep more than most things in my life and I haven’t been able to get more than four hours a night since we kissed at the football game. When I got frustrated looking at all the photos of you on my camera I switched to painting, only to find I had painted your eyes without even meaning to.” Minghao sat up jerkily without releasing your hand. His eyes earnestly searched yours with an intensity that made you want to shrink under his gaze. You forced yourself to remain still, returning his stare without flinching. “You are… incandescent. Breathtakingly beautiful. I can’t breathe when I’m with you and I’m half-mad when we’re apart. Don’t you see? I can’t win.”

“Hao…” Your warning trailed off, his rapid breaths the only thing to fill the silence. Even the chatter of passerby and the drone of the city fell away, leaving you in a cocoon of quiet.

His hand released yours so that he could hold your face, his thumbs tracing gentle circles across your cheeks. Fire bloomed beneath your skin, flaring everywhere he made contact. Your hands raised to cover his, neither of you moving as you stared deeply into one another’s eyes. You were certain you looked crazy to anyone walking by.

For one tiny, insignificant moment, you allowed yourself to hope. It unfurled in your chest and beat alongside your heart. The possibility that this beautiful man could truly want you the way you wanted him rendered you speechless.

Minghao’s thumb traced your bottom lip and he groaned softly at the heated breath you released. “I have fallen so deeply, irreversibly in love with you that I don’t think my heart will ever truly belong to me again.” His words shocked you to your very core.

He leaned forward, watching your expression through hooded eyes. His warm breath mingled with yours and your entire body locked at his proximity. He was going to kiss you. Again. Only this time there was no crowd, no Joshua watching from the football field, no adrenaline to spur you on. If you kissed him now, there was nothing to blame it on.

Minghao’s lips brushed yours. You’d forgotten how soft they were—the way his breath made goosebumps skitter like beetles across your spine. His fingers were so long that they disappeared in your hairline, tangling in your roots like he never meant to let you go. He parted his lips to deepen the kiss and you felt his tongue ghost across your bottom lip.

You jerked away. You scrambled to your feet faster than he could react, your chest heaving. Minghao stared up at you, dazed, his breathing irregular for an entirely different reason than yours.

“What are you doing?” There was venom in your voice. More than you had intended, judging by the way he flinched back. When he said nothing, you bit out, “Are you trying to hurt me?”

Minghao’s eyes widened. “What? No—”

“Just stop, Hao.” The angry beast in your chest settled, retreating into its slumber as fast as it had awoken. Your shoulders sagged and you looked at your feet. You were abruptly exhausted, sadness nipping at your cheeks as surely as the winter around you. “You don’t mean it. I know you think you do—” you rushed when he opened his mouth to interrupt you “—but you don’t.”

“How could you possibly know that?” he huffed indignantly.

“This whole arrangement is based on a lie. We’ve been pretending to be in love for five weeks, it’s bound to have affected one of us after a while.”

“One of us?” Minghao surged to his feet, suddenly crowding your space. His hands took hold of your face again and he earnestly searched your eyes. You kept your expression blank, worried that if you showed any sort of emotion then you’d crack. “One of us? Tell me you don’t feel it too. Look me in the eye right now and tell me you aren’t in love with me.”

And there it was. The point of no return. You knew you’d have to lie, but would he believe you? It was the only way to spare him—spare either of you—from any further heartbreak because of your baggage. You couldn’t stand to see him hurt, to be the one that hurt him, but you had no other choice.

So, you once again placed your hands over his on your cheeks and took a deep breath. “I’m not in love with you, Hao. I never have been.”

For several moments, it appeared as if he hadn’t heard you. Minghao froze until, all at once, your words crashed into him and he stumbled back as if he’d been burned.

“You’re lying,” he breathed.

You squared your shoulders, still keeping your mask in that unkind, emotionless mask. “I’m not. I’m so sorry I led you on, I swear I never meant to. But we had rules, Hao. We made rules to prevent anything like this happening and you went and broke them anyway.”

You were being cruel, you knew you were. It was the only way. That’s what you kept telling yourself, over and over, as the affection in Minghao’s eyes turned to hurt, then to ice.

“Why are you saying this? Did something happen with Joshua?”

You attempted to laugh but it sounded strangled to your own ears. “No, nothing happened with Joshua. I want nothing to do with him. If we were to do this, it would only hurt worse down the line. I just… I wish you hadn’t said anything.”

Minghao backed up a step, then another, each of his footfalls a resounding crack in your heart. “Forget I did. You know what? Forget all of this.” He turned to walk away but stopped immediately and looked at you over his shoulder. “I don’t know you. I don’t know what happened, but if you’d rather be alone then fine.”

“It’s better that way.”

Minghao’s eyes shuttered. He turned and began striding up the hill as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn’t turn to look at you again, and never once did you look away.

~ DAY FORTY ~

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

You jumped hard enough that you dropped your noodles in midair. They plunked back into your bowl and nearly splashed Joshua’s expensive leather jacket as he slid into the booth next to you. Your eyes raised slowly to look at him, taking in the look of vague distaste he gave you. “And you look like shit.”

You smiled sourly. “Gee, thanks.” It wasn’t anything you didn’t already know. In the past six days, you had barely eaten or slept, and you’d taken your first post-breakup shower only yesterday. Breakup, if you could even call it that. It sure felt like one.

“I heard you broke up with Minghao.”

You cringed. At this point, who hadn’t heard? It seemed like everywhere you turned, someone was whispering or staring at you. “That’s none of your business.” You tried to nonchalantly take another bite of your ramen but it might as well have tasted like tar.

“Fair enough, but who else is going to talk to you about it?”

Unfortunately true. “Why do you care, Josh?”

His eyes softened, just barely. “Because I still care about you.” You threw him a skeptical glare. “And because you’re infecting the entire campus with your heartbreak. It’s making everyone uncomfortable.”

“Everyone meaning you?” The timid smile on your face faded. You stabbed at your food, your appetite long gone. Before you could think better of it, you blurted, “It wasn’t real.”

Joshua’s brows furrowed. “What wasn’t real?”

“Any of it. Minghao and I never dated. It was… stupid, now that I think about it, but this all started because I barged into the boy’s bathroom trying to avoid you and Chaeyoung.”

Your chest felt inexplicably lighter after your confession. You thought that you’d be humiliated if Joshua ever found out, but you realized now you didn’t care. You’d gotten a best friend out of it, even if you’d gone and fucked it up five weeks in.

Joshua stared at you beneath lowered brows, his arms crossed over his chest. Your eyes flicked nervously between his face and the dining hall around him. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Don’t feel like embarrassing me today?”

“I don’t believe you.”

You scoffed. “What?”

“I don’t believe you.” Joshua shrugged. He leaned forward and stole your chopsticks out of your hand, then proceeded to brazenly take a bite of your ramen.

You stared at him, speechless for several seconds too long. “I… don’t know what to say to that. Am I supposed to convince you that I rashly entered a fake relationship to both make you jealous and angry?”

“Maybe it started out that way, but you’re definitely in love with him now. You weren’t this heartbroken after we broke up, I can tell you that much.” Joshua hit his chest with a fist and returned your utensils, a grimace on his face. “This is so spicy, what’s wrong with you?”

You didn’t reply. You just looked at him, your mind racing. You muttered at last, “It doesn’t matter if I’m in love with him. Hell, it doesn’t even matter if he’s in love with me. He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want all the baggage I have to bring into a real relationship.”

“What baggage?” He shot back. You stared at him incredulously, waiting for him to get it. Recognition flared in Joshua’s eyes and he smiled apologetically. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you asked him if he cares about your baggage?”

You frowned. “Well, no. But who would?”

“I think you’re forgetting that he already knows about your baggage. At least the me part of it. If what you’re telling me is true—which is crazy, by the way—then he literally got involved with you on the basis of your emotional issues.”

That was a good point, actually. You took another bite of your noodles, attempting to shake off the misplaced hope Joshua had instilled in you. “It doesn’t matter. I broke it off when he confessed. I was kind of a bitch to him, actually, so I’m not sure he ever wants to see me again.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath on that. He looks just as bad as you do, you know. Whatever you said to him, it worked, but I know Minghao. At least, I used to. To this day I haven’t met anyone even close to the man he is. He’ll forgive you if you’re honest.” Joshua stood and stretched his shoulders, his neck still flushed from eating your food. You stared up at him, more than a little dumbfounded. “Look, there’s an exhibition for the school of photography on Friday. Student admission is included in the cost of tuition.”

You knew what he was trying to tell you. Minghao would be there, no doubt about it. If you wanted to mend things with him, it was your best opportunity to talk to him somewhere he couldn’t shut a door in your face.

He had just turned to walk away when you spoke. “Why do you even care, Joshua?”

He stopped. When he looked at you again, there was genuine regret in his eyes. “I owe you. A lot more than this, considering what I did. Consider this my first act of earning forgiveness.”

“It was Chaeyoung’s idea, wasn’t it?”

He smiled wryly. “She misses you. Even if you never speak to her again, she wants you to be happy.”

Joshua said nothing else before he walked back into the throng of students in the dining hall. You remained frozen for a long time, your ramen now ice-cold and your thoughts running circles around you.

Fear had made you break it off with Minghao at the moment he told you everything you’d been dying to hear. He’d confessed and you’d thrown it in his face, believing yourself too broken to be with someone like him. He was the sun, you were a violent storm. Where he was peace personified, you often felt closer to screaming until the heavens fell. It shouldn’t work between you, but it did.

You loved him. That much was simple. It wasn’t until this very moment that you truly considered he might love you too. He had basically said as much, but it was now, six days late, that you believed him. If Minghao felt even half as miserable as you did now, you would spend the rest of your life trying to get over the guilt of hurting him.

You groaned and let your head fall into your hands. You had royally fucked up.

~ DAY FORTY-TWO ~

It seemed kismet that the exhibition—a.k.a. your excuse to beg for Minghao’s forgiveness—took place on what should have been the last day of the arrangement. You hadn’t even been sure you would show up until you arrived at the gallery.

I’m not gonna go, you’d said to yourself while curling your hair. You’d struggled to choose between two outfits, both of which Minghao had bought for you towards the beginning of this whole thing. Sooo not going. You’d decided to put on a little bit of makeup at the last minute. I’m just gonna order takeout again.

Now, you stood in front of the glass gallery doors, your heart in your throat and fear creeping in at the edges of your vision. It would be so much easier to walk away. He hadn’t seen you yet, it wasn’t too late to back out.

Your feet carried you forward without your permission. Each step was more confident than you really felt. Even if he wouldn’t give you another chance, which you wouldn’t blame him for, you were possessed by the need to tell him he’d been right. You did love him, and you were a fool, and your inability to love maturely was not his fault.

The gallery was beautiful, architecturally speaking. Everything inside the white stone building was pale, glossy wood, accented with stainless steel and glass. A large crystal chandelier dominated most of the lobby space, looking more like dripping ice as it hung over the crowd below. Every wall, even disappearing into the corridors branching off from the lobby, were covered by student work.

Low voices formed a steady hum around you, most people enraptured by the photos on the walls. You found yourself among them. Some of these photographs were incredible. It was obvious to you that your peers had poured their entire souls into their work, and some of these images were somehow better quality than your actual vision. For the first time, you understood what drew Minghao to photography as an art form.

You walked slowly along the wall, stopping briefly to admire each piece. For reasons you couldn’t fathom, a photo of a wilting flower nearly brought you to tears. You weren’t sure if it was really the art itself or if you were just feeling fragile. Possibly both. You continued on aimlessly, almost forgetting why you were here in the first place. You had no idea where Minghao was in all this, but you were bound to find him eventually.

You stopped when you reached the end of one of the hallways, this entire section seemingly occupied by one photographer’s unique style. Most of the pictures were in black and white, a select few of them rendered in shocking color. It was one of the color photographs that drew your attention.

Recognition teased the back of your mind as you approached. It depicted a dripping sink in a public restroom, the entire space covered in grime except the vibrant blue flower sitting on the counter. You had no idea why this scene seemed familiar to you—you certainly hadn’t been in this bathroom before.

You moved on to the next color photograph, but you didn’t really see it. Your entire body seized without reason, suddenly aware of a subtle change in the air.

You felt his presence without having to look. Despite your anxiety at baring your soul to him, you felt inexplicably lighter knowing he was here. Minghao walked up to stand beside you, mirroring your stance with his arms crossed over his chest. You gazed at the picture in front of you together in silence. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t focus your eyes on the art.

“Why are you here?”

His voice almost brought you to tears. I love you. “I came to see you.”

“Why?”

I love you, I love you, I love you. “To apologize.”

Minghao looked over at you. His eyes took you in, heat flooding your skin everywhere his gaze touched. “For what? Breaking up with me before we had a chance to date or crashing my senior photo exhibition?”

You recoiled. “Both, I guess.” You forced yourself to turn so you could look at him. It was a mistake. Minghao looked amazing. His skin was flushed with lively color, wonderfully offsetting the deep black of his hair. He’d foregone the blue-light glasses today, meaning there was nothing to protect you from the weight of his gaze. You realized with no small amount of certainty that you would do anything for Minghao to wear a suit forever. You opened your mouth and closed it several times, unsure of what to say now that he was in front of you. I love you, Hao. You were right. “Are these your pictures?”

“Yes.”

“They’re lovely.” You meant it. Minghao had a mastery over color that you would never be able to fully appreciate.

He looked back at the photograph hanging in front of you, a pensive look on his face. There was a strange, subtle humor there, too, though you had no idea why. “Thank you. It took a lot of sleepless nights, but I’m glad I didn’t give up on them.”

Guilt nagged at your thoughts. He hadn’t given up, but you certainly had. “I’m sorry I gave up,” you voiced aloud. “You didn’t deserve the way I treated you.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I was afraid. I know that’s no excuse, but it’s true.” You took a deep breath and lifted your chin, staring at Minghao’s side profile as he looked at his photo. “Joshua fucked me up, Hao. I’ve been so terrified to open up again, to anyone, and I ran away the second you tried to give me what I’d been hoping for.”

“I’m not him.”

“I know. I know that now. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry I tried to lie so that you would leave first. It was wrong, and I promise I’m trying. Because I—” you choked. I love you. You cleared your throat and tried again. “I love you.”

He was silent for a long time, long enough that you wondered if he would turn and walk away without a word.

“You love me?” He said at last. He spoke the words slowly, like he was tasting them, testing the weight of them on his tongue.

You shuddered. “Yes.”

Minghao took a deep breath and nodded once to himself. “You haven’t really looked at my work at all, have you?”

It was, without a doubt, the last thing you’d expected him to say. “What?”

He gestured vaguely at the piece in front of you, your eyes following the movement. You processed the couch first, then the fact that there was a body beneath a blanket on top of it. Hair fanned across a pillow, the girl’s face obstructed from view by a glare of sunlight. But one of her arms was extended, reaching limply towards whoever was behind the camera as she held up the blanket covering her. Beckoning them closer, asking them to join her.

Realization broke over you with the force of a tsunami. That was your living room. It was you on the couch, two weeks ago, sleeping the day away while Minghao watched TV from your secondary loveseat. At least, you’d thought he’d been watching TV. You remembered being cold and having trouble falling asleep, enough that you’d sleepily asked Minghao to join you. He’d pretended to be annoyed as he clicked off the television and slid onto the couch beside you, easily gathering you into his arms like you were made to be there. It was the best sleep you’d gotten since before your breakup with Joshua.

Apparently, he’d taken a picture of you before granting your tired request. The photograph, blown up to massive size and framed, was titled To Love Easily.

“Oh my god.” You covered your mouth with a shaking hand, your eyes darting to take in Minghao’s other displayed photographs. The bathroom. The bathroom, depicted more symbolically than it appeared in real life. Another of your hands, covered in flour from when the two of you attempted to make homemade pasta. A shot of Minghao’s fingers in your hair, a tiny blue flower petal tucked between the strands. You remembered it. He’d braided your hair for you before went to the hockey game because you were sick of it touching your neck.

All of these photos, in one way or another, were about you. The story of you, told through Minghao’s eyes. Suddenly, with blinding clarity, you saw yourself the way he did. Yes, you were a raging storm, but one seen through the window of a warm, dry home. If you decided to scream until the heavens fell, Minghao would be there to catch them.

“You love me.” You repeated his earlier question back at him, but it was no real question. Minghao loved you.

“Yes, darling, I love you.” A strangled sob broke from your chest, instantly embarrassing you. Minghao’s fingers gently took hold of your elbow and turned you to face him. “I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen. I already knew why you lashed out the way you did—expected it, even. You were just a little meaner than I expected, that’s all.”

You laughed despite yourself. One side of his lips kicked up in a small smile. His hand gently squeezed the back of your neck and he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“How do you not hate me?” You murmured.

“I can’t hate you for making a mistake. I knew you would come around. I mean, have you seen me?”

You halfheartedly punched his arm as he snickered. Before you could process that he moved at all, Minghao’s mouth was on yours. The kiss was gentle. Exploratory. It was what the last kiss should have been before you ripped yourself away.

His tongue gently probed yours, one small lick across your bottom lip turning your limbs to jelly. Minghao increased the pressure, his hand drifting from your neck to between your shoulder blades, then to your waist. He gently squeezed your soft skin and, completely on accident, you released a tiny moan that only he could hear.

You broke apart immediately. You stared at one another wide-eyed, embarrassment setting your cheeks aflame. Slowly, a sly smile took over Minghao’s face. Oh god. You’d seen that look many times before.

He leaned in so his mouth was pressed against the shell of your ear. He exhaled softly, drawing a small, contented sigh from you. Minghao squeezed your waist again.

“The exhibition is over in twenty minutes. Think you can wait?”

-----

You didn’t even make it through your front door before Minghao had you off your feet. You squealed as he lifted you into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his trim hips. He pressed you against the wall of your entryway, his hands braced on either side of your waist.

He nuzzled the juncture between your neck and shoulder, his lips dragging soft lines along your skin. Your sleeve had fallen down past your shoulder, baring your collarbone to the mercy of his mouth. You groaned at each small love bite he left, his mouth so gentle that you hardly felt the sting.

“I have waited—” he began, and you groaned when he sucked particularly hard on the side of your throat “—so long for this.”

You shared the sentiment. You’d developed feelings for Minghao fairly quickly into the arrangement and your brain had been plagued by imagining this exact scenario since. “Kiss me, then,” you said breathlessly.

He needed no further encouragement. Minghao’s lips eagerly found yours, this kiss nothing like its predecessors. He kissed you urgently, hungrily, like he might very well die if he stopped. You flattened your hips against his, a choked sound of pleasure escaping both of you when you ground against his erection. You hadn’t expected him to be hard already, but you figured he probably had been since the two of you hastily left the gallery.

His tongue invaded your mouth with an intensity that drew sharp pants from your throat. You returned his energy stroke for stroke, unable to get enough of him. Your hands dragged from his hair to his shoulders and further down, your nails digging in as you gripped his ass and forcibly pulled his hips tighter against yours. Minghao thrust against you, the friction making you see stars even with your clothes still on.

He gripped your ass hard enough to bruise and jerked you away from the wall so he could stumble to your bedroom. You barely made it, both of you kissing wildly and breathlessly giggling the entire way.

His body blanketed yours as you fell onto the bed, his warmth comforting and heartbreakingly familiar. You both muttered incoherent praises and I love you’s into the other’s mouth, still unable to get close enough. You sighed contentedly as he began to work his way down your body, taking clothes as he went. His chilled fingers slid beneath your blouse and helped you remove it completely, leaving you in a lacy white bra. He unabashedly moaned at the sight, and you would have giggled if not for the wet kiss he placed on each of your nipples over the fabric.

He continued his leisurely journey downwards, his hands kneading your breasts. His lips drifted across your waistline with infuriating slowness. You whined when he caught the button of your pants between his teeth and tugged lightly before moving on. Your fingers tangled in the roots of his hair, simultaneously enjoying its softness and lightly pulling to urge him on.

“Hao, you’re killing me here,” you murmured.

“Call it payback.” Despite his cocky words, his voice was strained with lust. You looked down at him and immediately regretted it when you almost came at the sight. His hair was wild from your hands running through it, flushed color high on his cheeks and his pupils blown so wide that hardly any brown remained.

No matter what he said, he wouldn’t be able to resist burying himself inside you for much longer.

At last, Minghao unbuttoned your pants and carefully pushed them down your legs, taking your underwear with them. You tried to find it within yourself to be embarrassed at your nakedness, but you couldn’t. Minghao’s eyes devouring you like this felt so right that it put a lump in your throat.

“I love you,” you told him again, as if you hadn’t said the same three words a hundred times in the last hour. Regardless, Minghao blushed again as if it were the first time you’d told him, a sweet smile pulling at his lips. When combined with the lust-crazed look in his eyes, though, you found yourself clenching woefully around nothing.

When your lower half was sufficiently stripped naked, Minghao lifted himself off the bed so he could remove his suit jacket and button-down, stepping out of his shoes at the same time. He did so slowly, methodically, and you watched him through hooded eyes, appreciating the tension of the wait as much as he did. Your mouth dried at the sight of him. His body was leanly-muscled and utterly perfect, dotted every so often with constellations of moles and small scars from past adventures.

“You’re so pretty,” you sighed, pleased when Minghao blushed again. He didn’t let your words distract him, instead settling between your thighs and roughly tugging your hips closer to his face. You gasped as you slid down the bed, anticipation thrumming in your veins.

His breath was unbearably warm against your overheated core and, like he could sense how it drove you wild, he blew lightly on your clit. Your entire body seized, your hands immediately burying themselves in his hair again.

“If we do this, darling, I want to make something abundantly clear.”

You cracked your eyes open, unsure when you had actually screwed them shut. “Yes, Hao?”

Minghao groaned and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh. “If you say it like that again I might never let you leave this bed.” You squirmed, the need to have his mouth on you all-consuming. He kissed your other thigh, allowing his tongue to drag to your pelvic bone as you moaned. He waited until you were looking down at him, your chest heaving, before he spoke. “After tonight, I’m yours, do you understand me? You won’t be able to get me away from this pretty pussy.”

Your entire body flooded with heat. “Yes, Hao. You’re mine. I’m yours—” Your declaration cut off in a cry when Minghao’s tongue parted your folds in one long stroke. He stopped to dote on your clit, working you in tight, expert circles that catapulted you to the edge in three seconds flat.

You weren’t sure when one of his hands left your thigh, but you jolted in surprise when two of his fingers poised themselves at your entrance. He gathered your slick on his fingertips and pushed in at the same time his tongue increased its pressure. You moaned loudly and ground your hips against his face, tugging hard at the roots of his hair now. Minghao groaned against you, the vibrations driving you wild. His fingers pushed into you at an angle, over and over again, long enough that they easily bumped that incredible spot inside you on every pass.

You climbed higher and higher with no end in sight. You were a thread one small breath from snapping, your entire body quivering with your need to orgasm.

“You taste—” he sucked hard and wet on your clit “—so fucking good.”

“God, Hao, please—”

“Come for me, darling.” Minghao withdrew his fingers from you without warning. Before you could protest their absence he replaced them with his tongue, thrusting it into you with the fervor of a man starved. Your back arched and you cried out. A light sheen of sweat covered your entire body as you writhed. “Need to taste it, please—” His nose bumped your clit at just the right angle and the thread finally snapped.

Your orgasm tore through you like a shooting star. Your body lit up, explosions rippling all the way to the tips of your toes. You clenched hard around Minghao’s tongue and he moaned, obviously satisfied beyond belief, as you came in his mouth.

It felt like hours before you finally came down. Your entire body shook in the wake of what was probably the best orgasm of your life. Definitely better than any that Joshua had ever given you, a thought which made you giggle.

Minghao kissed his way up your body, his lips and chin shining with you. “What’s so funny?” He nipped at the spot below your ear before capturing your mouth in his. You groaned at the taste of you on his lips, instantly ready for him again.

“Oh, nothing.” You giggled. “Joshua could never—”

Minghao cut you off with an honest-to-god growl. He moved back to kissing your throat, leaving new hickies over the ones he’d already created. You bit your lip, still smiling at the ceiling as he lightly ground his clothed dick against your core. “Will you not say his name after I’ve just made you orgasm?” He asked indignantly.

You pushed Minghao off of you by his shoulders, pleased by the surprised look on his face as you rolled him onto his back. You felt unbelievably powerful as you straddled him now. He couldn’t keep his eyes off your breasts even if he wanted to. You wordlessly reached behind you to unclasp your bra, taking your time sliding the straps down your shoulders. At last you were left bare before him and you tossed your bra across the room.

He began to sit up, his face dark with lust, but you stopped him before he could take your nipple in his mouth. He met your eyes, confused, and you answered him with a knowing smile.

You kissed his jaw, then his throat, pushing him back down onto his back as you moved to his torso. You didn’t torture him by moving slowly as he had with you, looking up at him through your eyelashes to observe his reactions. His breaths turned into quiet, short gasps when your mouth reached the skin just above his pants.

You unbuttoned his pants slowly, taking your time pulling those down first, then his underwear. Your mouth dried when his hard cock sprang free, the tip flushed and glistening with precum. You had no doubt that the stretch would be incredible—both his size and shape were perfect for you, like he had been designed with you in mind. Or perhaps the other way around. If there was ever a doubt in your mind about how much he wanted you, it was gone now.

His hips thrusted gently into the open air, seeking nonexistent friction. You took a moment to admire him and bit your lip. You pressed more kisses to his soft thighs, his knees, his hips. His cock twitched.

“Pretty boy,” you purred. He shuddered.

Minghao moaned again. “Please, baby—”

You cut him off by wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. He instinctively thrusted hard, nearly choking you, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. You wantonly moaned around him, gratified by the hard shudder that worked its way through his body in response.

The taste of him was addicting. You recklessly sought more of it as you took him further into your mouth, stopping only when he hit the back of your throat. You gagged and Minghao’s hands threaded into your hair, pulling it into a loose ponytail at the nape of your neck. You were dripping down your thighs now, a mixture of your cum from your last orgasm and the new need to have his cock inside you.

“You’re so sexy—ah—yes, just like that.” Minghao’s praises were music to your ears, only fueling you to bob your head on him faster. You relaxed your throat as best you could, pride swelling in your chest when you managed to take him deep. He gasped sharply when you swallowed around his length. “Fuck—yes, do that again—”

You obeyed, ignoring the tears overflowing onto your cheeks and the lewd sounds you were making. Minghao seemed so turned on now that he might explode out of his skin. Your hand found his sac, gently massaging it in time with the movements of your mouth. You felt him tighten beneath you, a telltale sign that he was seconds from cumming.

Not for the first time tonight, Minghao moved too quickly for you to process in a timely manner. Before you could blink you were trapped beneath him on the mattress, tears still staining your face and the taste of his cock in your mouth. He kissed you feverishly, his dick sandwiched between you as he ground himself against your stomach.

“I want to finish inside you, not before,” he said into your mouth, eliciting a groan from deep in your chest.

“Yes,” you hissed. You took his cock in your hand and smiled when he jerked. By this point, even with your previous orgasm, both of you were so sensitive that you wouldn’t last long. “Are you clean?” you asked.

“Yes, why—”

“Good, because I want you raw. I have to feel you—”

Minghao cut you off with a wild moan and kiss, his lips barely giving you time to catch a breath. “God, I love you.”

Your heart bloomed with warmth. This is what you’d been so terrified of? Loving and being loved in return?

He helped you line up the head of his cock with your entrance, notching it in just enough to stay there as he pressed a shaky kiss to your forehead. Your eyes were locked on where he entered you as he pushed in to the hilt.

You both released simultaneous moans of relief. Your limbs trembled as you tried to accommodate his size, the stretch burning through you in delicious licks of pleasure.

“You feel so good…” he murmured, taking one of your breasts into his mouth and sucking relentlessly at the nipple. “God, you’re so tight—”

You whined, urging him to move. He obeyed, slipping out of you almost completely before pushing back in. His face fell against your shoulder and he softly bit down on your flesh to stifle his moans. You unintentionally clenched around his length in response, dragging another strangled groan out of him.

He easily hit your g-spot on every thrust. You found yourself coiling tighter and tighter, dangerously close to your orgasm once again. Your walls continuously fluttered around him, made more intense by the string of unintelligible praises and curses that fell from his lips.

He captured your mouth in his again. Your nails dug into his shoulders and dragged low on his hips—you knew you would leave scratches, but you didn’t care in the slightest. Neither did he, apparently, because his thrusts turned wild. He impaled you on his cock over and over again, his pace brutal and unrelenting as you both sought your highs.

There wasn’t a single thought in your head save the feeling of Minghao pounding into you. You were an absolute mess, as was he—hair tangled, sweat-slicked bodies colliding and faces pinched with pleasure.

“Cum inside, baby—” you moaned “I’m on the pill, please. I need you—”

“Ah, fuck—” Minghao cut himself off and his thrusts grew sloppier, signaling that he was close. The sensation of his cock pulsing inside you ignited your second orgasm like a wildfire.

Your walls contracted hard enough that he moaned unrestrained this time, and he stilled momentarily as he filled you in repeated, thick spurts. Euphoria shattered through you, so intense you could scarcely breathe around it. He rocked his hips against yours slowly, working you both through your highs without crossing the line into pain.

When you both returned to earth, Minghao still didn’t remove his cock from you. Instead he rolled onto his side with his arms around you, taking you with him, and you threw a leg over his hips. You laid like that for a long time, just basking in the comfortable silence and aftershocks of your orgasms.

Tonight had ended the best way it possibly could have. You kissed Minghao lazily, like you had all the time in the world to do so. And really, you did. His fingers traced gentle lines up and down your spine as you drew small circles on his ribcage.

“Why did you agree to fake dating me?” You asked suddenly.

“Hmm?”

“The day we met, you said the arrangement would be mutually exclusive. What did you mean?”

Minghao laughed softly. “I’d forgotten about that. That day in the bathroom wasn’t the first time I saw you,” he confessed. “The first time I saw you was last spring outside the library. You were carrying this huge stack of books and you dropped them without question so you could help a caterpillar off the staircase. You put it in the grass and continued on like it was nothing.” Your jaw dropped. You barely remembered that and were shocked that he did, especially in such detail. “I think that’s when I fell in love with you, but who knows.” He drew back to look at you, satisfaction oozing from his every pore at your shock. He kissed the tip of your nose. “I have a proposition for you,” he murmured.

Your eyes narrowed. The last proposition had taken both of you for a wild ride, to say the least. “What is it?”

Minghao smiled.

“Will you be my girlfriend?"

~ DAY FOUR HUNDRED SEVENTEEN ~

You were almost more nervous to walk across the stage because Minghao was in the audience. Graduating college was already nerve-wracking, but put a smoking-hot boy who only had eyes for you in the mix? You were a goner.

You gripped your fake diploma for dear life—the real one was tucked safely in your purse beneath Minghao’s chair—and prayed you wouldn’t eat shit halfway through your walk.

You glanced out at the audience, finding your boyfriend’s face immediately. No, scratch that—fiancé. You still couldn’t get used to it, even if it had been a month already. You glanced down at the ring glittering on your finger, a dainty, whimsical thing that perfectly suited the man who had given it to you.

The sight gave you comfort. You looked back up at Minghao, who now had a pleased smile on his face as if he could sense the direction your thoughts had taken. He flashed you a conspicuous thumbs-up and you giggled quietly.

You turned back to the stage, suddenly aware that you were next to walk. You wished Minghao were up here with you, but he had graduated the semester prior and was left to support you from afar. You watched as Chaeyoung—the valedictorian, funny enough—shook hands with the boy who had gone before you, a radiant smile on her face. She looked beautiful. But then again, she always was. One of these days, you might actually achieve fully forgiving her so you could ask where she got those earrings.

Distantly, you heard the announcer call your name and the following whoops and cheers from Minghao and your family. The grin on your face wasn’t faked—over the past year-and-a-half, more and more of your smiles had become genuine.

You took a deep breath. Aware of Minghao watching you, you took the first step into the rest of your life.

BOOM! and with that, minghaoyoudoin is finally deserving of her name haha 😆 thank you again for reading if you made it this far, please leave a like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

masterlist here :)

© minghaoyoudoin 2022 - all rights reserved. reposts/translations not allowed. I do not assume to know the personal lives of the idol(s) depicted in this fic, this is for entertainment purposes only!

#that felt like watching a MOVIE #jaw: dropped #minghao imagines #the8 imagines #can’t believe joshua was the ex though… godDAMN

[ashonheavenscloud]

"lovie"

tldr: all the ways jeonghan uses your nickname a/n: but mom, i love him. (there is a makeout scene in this...)

pesters: but only in good fun

“lovie,” he coos at you, encouraged by the blush on your cheeks. he could tell by the look in your eyes, you were embarrassed but not upset. you hadn’t thought anything of it when he suggested you wear the green hoodie in your closet to visit him and the members in the practice room. 

“need to let everyone know we’re together?” he couldn’t help but poke fun at you as you walked into the room wearing a matching hoodie to his. you had no knowledge he had even worn the offending garment today. if you had, you wouldn’t be in yours, especially not in front of his members and their staff.  

“i’m pretty sure everyone already knows.” his teasing didn’t let up, even as he wrapped his arms around you, pleased to see you had fallen right into his trap. you faintly heard joshua scoff somewhere behind you, too focused on the man in front of you to really give him any attention, “you guys are gross.” 

whispers: when he wants to check in

“lovie,” his whisper pulls you from your thoughts. “i don’t think that pork will come back to life no matter how hard you stare at it. mingyu grilled it really well.” you rolled your eyes but turned to look at him nonetheless. he looked awfully handsome under the dim light of the bbq restaurant. he always looked handsome, you supposed. 

“are you okay?” he was still whispering. wanted to keep this moment as private as possible so you could speak freely. he knew dinner with his members could be a lot, especially after a long day at work. 

“you can tell me if you want to go. you know i’ll never pass up an opportunity to go home with you.” his eye dropped in a wink, and this time you smiled when you rolled your eyes. going home with him did kind of sound like a good idea…

breathes: in between kisses

“lovie,” it escapes him like a sigh, slipping out between you two in a heated moment. you were on his lap, completely blocking his view of the tv, and in the back of his mind he knows he wanted to see this one but he couldn’t bring himself to care. not with the way he is consumed with the feeling of your weight pressing on him, your warmth almost burning his skin even through layers of clothes. 

when you pull back and look at him, he swears he feels his heart skip a beat. face oily and bare from the skin care you had completed before joining him on the couch for movie night, he’s never thought you more beautiful. he can feel your lip balm on and around his lips, a reminder you’d been there.

“whatever you’re doing, it’s working lovie,” he praises. “you’re practically glowing.” if he thought you were radiant before, you beamed under his praise. the last thing he saw before his eyes closed to continue kissing you was your toothy grin. 

giggles: behind cupped hands

“lovie,” he was snickering when he pulled you into a secluded corner of seungchoel’s apartment. game night was in full swing and you had just started the third round of mafia. while the rest of the members were distracted by mingyu and soonyoung’s bickering, jeonghan whisked you away, his mischievous smirk on his face. 

“can you keep a secret?” he was talking in hushed tones, hiding his mouth behind his hands to avoid prying eyes. when you nodded in confirmation, he leaned impossibly closer, breath tickling your ear. 

“i’m the mafia.” it took everything in you to keep your face neutral. you didn’t want to blow him in after he spilled such a big secret. it warmed your heart that he trusted you enough to tell you his role in the game. “if you tell anyone, i’ll kill you next.” 

scrawls: on a post-it

“lovie,” the note brought heat to your cheeks. you really hoped your coworker at the desk across from yours didn’t notice. when had he even slipped this in? you packed your own lunch and he wasn’t even awake when you left for your shift this morning, still snuggled beneath your comforter when you pulled your shoes on and headed out the door. 

“i miss you. hope you’re having a good day!” his neat handwriting brought a smile to your face. this wasn’t the first time he had snuck a note into your lunchbox, but he didn’t do it often so this was really a treat. and on a friday, too! what a great way to end the week. 

“i can’t wait to spend the weekend with you.” you shared the sentiment. looking forward to a free weekend with no plans or schedules. free to rot in your bed for the next two days with your beloved. “love you!” 

#oh my godddjtsjsfjsjfxjcjg

[ashonheavenscloud]

my eric-adoring self is absolutely OBSESSED with this fic o h m y g o d. i was kicking my feet the whole time. the dialogue was so good, you captured eric’s personality SO well. bless your soul for writing this😭😭 i loved it <3

𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞

nonidol!eric sohn x gn!reader

you can't figure out why eric's been acting different, but maybe you had nothing to worry about in the first place.

8.2k words, bffs2l, college au, reader is incredibly oblivious, swearing, pining, flirting, kissing, mentions of organic chemistry (yuck), eric sohn, fluff, one really bad that's what he said joke (sorry it was chenle), mentions of alcohol

a/n: to @mosviqu !! (requests are closed) hope you like this one, beloved :')) thanks for waiting

A midnight pool party wasn't exactly what you had in mind when you told your friends that you had just gotten off of work. You'd thought they were just having a game night at another friend's house, but it turned out, they decided to utilize said friend's massive backyard space, including his heated pool lined with LED lights at the bottom.

"Who the hell has LED lights at the bottom of their pool?" You voiced aloud in the car.

Ningning's voice wrapped around you from the full volume of your phone's speaker, "My friend from middle school and the one who got us into Yangyang's party the other night—Zhong Chenle. You remember him, right? We went to high school with him, too."

You definitely remembered him. How could you not? He had the most subtly rich personality you'd ever come across. You once thought he was wearing a regular, white Hanes T-shirt from the store (the ones that came in a six pack from Costco), but it turned out that it was a two hundred dollar Balenciaga top.

It was literally just a white shirt.

"Yeah, so we're just here with him and some of his friends," Ningning continued on. You could hear the sounds of merriment in the background, including music and bodies crashing into the pool.

You pulled up to your apartment complex, and it took a second for you to gather your belongings and scramble out of the car. You squeezed your phone between your ear and shoulder as you bumped the car door closed with your hip. "Who's there again? I know you and Winter, but specifically…"

"Uhhh—besides Chenle, there's Renjun, Yangyang, Sungchan, and Eric."

As you let yourself into the apartment, you paused. “Wait, Eric's back?”

There was a commotion on the other side and for a moment, you didn't hear what Ningning said. Then she returned to the speaker with a giggle in her voice, “Yn! We're playing Monopoly soon, but I'm only playing if you're coming over—oh shit, did you say something just now?”

You chuckled, dumping your bag on the kitchen counter and just barely stopping yourself from slumping over like your work bag. “I just asked if Eric was back. I thought you just said he was there with you all.”

“Oh yeah! He said he got back from LA a few hours ago. I don't know how he's not severely jetlagged, but you know what? He brought booze.”

“Sounds like Eric,” you mused. You wondered why he hadn't told you he was back in town. You thought he wouldn't be taking off until tomorrow morning, so that was when you were expecting him.

“—so?”

“Hm?”

“You coming over?”

“Yeah, yeah give me a few.”

One cup of crappy coffee and a change of clothes later, you arrived in front of Chenle's house just a fifteen minute drive from your complex. It was gated and tucked away, which made sense as to why they were able to make so much noise. You could hear the music out from the driveway.

Ningning emerged from the shadows of the side entrance to the house. Her eyes lit up at the sight of you. "Ahh, Yn! I'm so glad you're finally here," she squealed and skipped over to you in her flip-flops, wrapping her arms around you in a big hug. Your friend was dressed in a pretty, bandeau bikini top and bottom, her inky black hair falling down her shoulders like the flow of a waterfall.

You laughed as she pulled away. "Glad I could make it. Are we just going through the side gate or something?"

She nodded and guided you through the foliage. "Yeah. How was work?"

You figured that after your long shift, you probably wouldn't have much energy to actually go swimming. You'd changed into a bathing suit anyway and threw a T-shirt and shorts over it in case, but had arrived with little more than your wallet, keys, and lip gloss.

You gave her a shrug in reply. "Eh. It's work," you said, your voice barely loud enough to hear over the sound of water splashing and high-pitched shrieks. "It was quiet, at least."

"That's good," she nodded with a soft smile thrown over her shoulder. "Thank god you're finally here. Chenle decided he didn't wanna get his limited edition Jade Rabbit Monopoly board wet—” She gave an indulgent eye roll, “—but his game, his decision, I guess.”

You chimed in your agreement just as you and Ningning emerged on the side of the backyard that hosted your friends and their midnight pool party. From your vantage, you could count the heads present, including one Yangyang making a splash into the pool and getting water all over Renjun.

“Yn!” Winter raised a hand from where she sat cross-legged on a lounge chair.

“Yo, what's up, Yn?” Sungchan hollered from the side of the pool where the speaker was. He was fiddling around with whoever's phone was connected to the aux cord.

You grinned, greeting everyone with a big wave. “Hey, guys. Have you been out here for long?”

“Yangyang, I swear to—” Renjun's swear cut through the music to the symphony of Yangyang's screeching of absolute delight. The former brushed his wet hair back, rubbing the pool water out of his eyes. It wasn't until afterward that he greeted you back as you neared where he had been dragged into the pool by his friend. “Hi, Yn. Did you just get here?”

“I did! Where's—”

The back door to the house slid open and Chenle emerged dragging out a massive cooler of what you assumed to be drinks. Carrying the back end was Eric in a pair of dampened board shorts with his wet bangs hanging in his eyes.

“Eric Sohn! You're not supposed to be here until tomorrow morning, you poser!” You shouted in his direction.

Chenle and Eric's heads both whipped over toward where you and Ningning were. Chenle said something to Eric with a wide-ass monkey grin, then proceeded to drag the cooler the rest of the way without Eric's help.

Eric cupped the back of his neck sheepishly as he approached you. He must have recently gotten out of the pool, because there was still water dripping down the lines of his chest and stomach. “In my defense, the airline offered me money if I took an earlier flight,” he said with a laugh.

“As your certified best friend,” you mused, “I'm offended I wasn't the first to know about this update.”

“Okay, best friend, let me hug you to make up for it.”

Your eyes widened, “Eric, you're wet—”

“That's what he said!” Chenle howled with laughter at his own joke, and Ningning groaned in anguish.

“Okay and?” Before you could protest any more, he trapped you in his arms, pressing his dampened skin against your perfectly dry outer garments. For good measure, he nuzzled his wet hair against the side of your face, too.

“You're like—like a dog,” you laughed, playfully pushing him away.

Eric beamed and placed his hands on his hips. “Golden retriever to your black cat. Now, do I have to dump you in that pool myself or are you going to like swimming tonight?”

Your face pressed into a deadpanning line, which drew an even brighter sound from him. You couldn't help but smile; it was nice to have him back. “You're so annoying sometimes. I'm sitting on the edge of the pool only, and you can suck it.”

As you began making your way over to the edge of the pool, Eric trailed after you with his head shaking and a laugh lingering on his tongue. “Missed you, Yn.”

It was a good thing you were facing away from him right then. A smile split your face like a slice of watermelon. “Missed you, too, Sohn.”

You didn't see your friends again until the following Friday evening. It wasn't late enough to call it “night” nor early enough to call it “afternoon.” It was a timestamp somewhere in the middle when the sun had yet to decide if it would hide behind the buildings or peer through the alleyways. It was also when the Korean BBQ place in the university district was relatively bare, and so you and your friends could get away with scoring the big table in the back on the raised platform.

“I feel like a king,” Chenle said with a smile on his face as he breathed in the smell of beef on the grill.

Sungchan flipped over one of the pieces of chicken with his tongs. “Wait, so Yn, they're for real making you work the Friday night closing shift?”

All eyes turned toward your end of the table where you sat with Eric on your right, and Ningning and Winter across from you.

Your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked, your dominant hand pausing your chopstick movements. “Oh, uh, yeah… I mean,” you added with a shrug, “it's not so bad most of the time. I think I would rather have me working than one of the kids.” The store you worked at was relatively understaffed, and your manager oftentimes hired high schoolers from the nearby district to fill in the spaces. There were rare occasions where rowdy customers came in during the latter hours of the night, and you would rather your younger colleagues didn't have to worry about that. (Even if you yourself also worried about rowdy customers.)

“Do you at least get a closing shift bonus?” Winter asked, her cheek stuffed with her last bite. “When I worked part-time at the corner store last year, they at least incentivized closing.”

“Usually when I work alone, yeah,” you said.

Eric's left arm came to rest over the back of your chair as he leaned forward to transfer a slab of short rib to your bowl. “Are you working alone tonight?” He asked, reaching past you to grab a piece of cucumber from one of the metal bowls of side dishes.

You placed the cucumbers between the two of you temporarily so he could have easier access. “I think so,” you said. “Unless my manager recruited someone else, but yeah, I think it'll probably just be me.”

The rest of the table turned to their individual conversations, especially as one of the waiters brought over an additional platter of meats to grill.

Eric murmured to you, “What if I just happened to show up at your work tonight?”

You turned your body slightly to face him, mutual smiles curling onto both of your mouths. “What, need a new first aid kit or something?”

“And a little dose of Yn Ln,” he said before popping a slice of fish cake into his mouth. He was still leaning in close to you, the twinkle in his eyes like a secret only you two knew. You were trying to not let the skin peeking out of his tank top throw you off balance; it was definitely just the heat and steam that made it glisten.

Your eyebrows shot up at his remark. “You're getting plenty of me now.”

“I need to make up for when I was away,” he replied as easy as it was for him to drink water. “I told you, I missed you.”

It was the fire from the grill, the heat of the room, the smell of the food. It was not Eric Sohn making your skin hot or your heart trip—at least, that was what you told yourself. He was attractive, yes, and he was one of your best friends. He was flirty, double yes, but he was still just a friend. (Right?) “Did you breathe too much LA air?” You joked half-heartedly. “You're acting… different.”

He shoved his bite into his cheek and gave you a shrug. “I think I'm acting exactly how I should be,” he said with a quirk of his eyebrows, then tuning into whatever topic Renjun had brought up—something about a party at Han Jisung's house.

Your head tilted to the side in dumbfoundment, but you returned to the rest of the group even if your brain was rewinding that conversation over and over again in your head. What did he mean that he was acting exactly how he should be?

For a moment, you turned back to look at him. His head was so close to yours, his body scooted forward on his chair to close that distance between his legs and yours. You couldn't read him—could only see the mirth in his eyes from Chenle and Renjun going back and forth in Chinese, as if he could understand. You weren't sure what you were looking for.

He glanced over at you then to meet your eyes. It was a split second, but that was enough to alter your brain chemistry, that you were sure his eyes flickered down to your lips. Then his eyes were away from you, having never dared a look at all.

It was about three hours later that you found yourself stationed behind the front counter at the store you worked at. After six, usually the crowd dwindled down when everyone was out having dinner or curled up at home for the night.

That left you with a few options to occupy the time. With the aisles less than crowded, you could hook your phone up to the overhead speaker and bop your head while stocking up the aisles. While Wednesdays were the main inventory days, some of that work spilled into Thursdays and Fridays depending on how much was delivered and who was on the schedule.

You were sorting through the candy aisle checking for expired dates when you heard the jingle of the bell above the front door. “Hi, welcome in!” You hollered from over the aisle, then broke into a smile at the sight of a familiar Los Angeles Angels baseball cap.

Eric tracked your voice and joined you in the aisle you were in, his tank top from earlier swapped out for a dark colored T-shirt under a corduroy jacket. He must have not wanted to come in clothes that reeked of food. “Hey you,” he said, walking over to ruffle your hair.

“Aye,” you chided half-heartedly and reached up to smooth out the hair on top of your head. “I didn't think you were being serious about stopping by,” you mused. You squeezed your hand to reach for the bars of chocolate at the far back. When you examined them and determined that they had reached the shelf expiration date, you dumped them into the shopping basket at your feet to be logged later.

“Of course I was being serious,” he huffed while perusing the bags of gummy candies hanging in the section next to you.

“Those are pretty good.” You pointed out a brand of lesser known gummies shaped like whale sharks. They had adorable, little smiles, but when they got damaged or melted… it was less adorable and less smile-looking. But they were nice and snackable, nonetheless.

He hummed in consideration and plucked a bag off the hanger. “How many of these brands have you tried?”

“Like… five or six,” you said. “I just kind of mark it as a store expense, and then me and the other person on shift share it.”

He chuckled, a smile flitting over his lips after examining the back of the bag. “Wanna share these with me?”

“Sure, man.”

That was how you found yourself at the front counter across from Eric, a bag of whale shark gummies split open between you. You had the store's to-do list binder open and were checking off the items you'd completed, all the while popping a poor whale shark into your mouth. Eric had found interest in one of the celebrity magazines displayed on the rack by the door.

It had so far been a slow night with very few customers coming in to grab a last minute case of beer or condoms. All the usual shit. However, time flew past a lot faster with Eric keeping you company. Even though the conversation you'd had with him at dinner earlier lingered in the back of your mind, it was quickly forgotten as he filled your time talking about LA, plans for the summer, and whatever you were up to while he was gone.

As midnight fast approached, the gummy sharks were finished and you whipped out the broom to begin cleaning up.

Eric idly scrolled through your phone to choose a song, skipping one after the other. “Can I help clean up or anything?” He asked after settling on a Dominic Fike song.

“Just sit still and look pretty,” you teased as you swept some dust and debris into a dustpan.

He smiled to himself. “That should be your job.”

There went your heart again, but thank god you were turned away from him. “Unfortunately, I don't get paid for that.”

“How much do you want?”

You turned your head over your shoulder to look at him, and he sent you a cheeky grin. You laughed loud at the ridiculousness, then returned to sweeping the aisle you were in. “You’re so stupid,” you said playfully. You didn't mean it… sort of. He was stupidly smooth, stupidly pretty, stupidly—

Eric grabbed the dustpan to trail after you. “Damn, I call you pretty and you call me stupid?”

“What if stupid is a compliment?”

“When is it ever a compliment?”

Despite the banter, the two of you were both beaming at each other in the lowlight. In no time, you had the entire store swept clean (for the most part), and you went to tuck the broom and dustpan into the back room. The clock struck just about midnight, too, and you swung the ring of keys around your index finger, your bag hanging off your shoulder.

Eric glanced up from where he had his nose buried in his phone screen. “Ready?” He asked, perking up like a golden retriever.

“Yep.” You stopped behind the counter to clock out. “Thanks for keeping me company, Eric. I really appreciate it.”

“Hey, what are f—” His voice broke for a second, and you sent him a look. He cleared his throat, “What are friends for?”

You finished clocking out on the computer, then slipped out from behind the counter and moved toward where Eric was. “Is that what we are?” You jested in reply.

His eyes went wide for a second. “What?”

Your head cocked to the side quizzically. “Is that what we are? Friends?” You repeated. When he still looked dumbfounded, you grimaced, “Was that lame? Yeah, that was lame. Let's just forget about that.”

You stepped toward the front door, but Eric placed a hand on your upper arm to stop you.

“Wait, Yn—”

You stopped with a hum in your throat, head turned back toward him. The two of you stood slightly closer now. Beneath the dim fluorescents, between the cold medicine and magazine rack, you searched this man's eyes for an answer he wasn't giving you. You could measure the length of his eyelashes from this distance, and you saw the shine mark on his lips after his tongue darted out to wet it.

“Eric?” You voiced quietly after he hadn't said anything. “Everything okay?”

Something shuddered in his expression and you swore his cheeks darkened in shade. “Nothing,” he said swiftly. “Sorry, it's nothing.”

Eric sat down across from you with a pair of headphones hanging around his neck and his hood thrown over his head. He nudged his black-rimmed glasses up his nose as he powered his laptop on. “Hey,” he whispered to you, his eyes darting around to make sure no one around you was bothered by his speaking.

The two of you were situated in the upper levels of your university library to study for your upcoming final exams. Most of the libraries on campus had a system in place where lower levels were meant as collaborative spaces with each level getting quieter in general volume. You and Eric were on the top floor, but at one of the desks tucked into one of the bookshelves. There were a few people around you, but they were hidden by walls and shelves, for the most part.

“I think you're fine,” you whispered to him in amusement as you uncapped your highlighter to mark a specific passage in the text you were reading.

Eric got up and quietly moved his chair to sit adjacent to you, rather than across from you. “What're you working on?”

“Just some research for a paper,” you replied. “You?”

“O-chem,” he said, and his entire being flopped over his closed laptop, his face crumpled in anguish.

You cooed silently and gently patted his hoodie-covered head. “You poor thing.”

Oh, organic chemistry. The monster it was.

When he still didn't pick himself or his laptop screen up, you leaned over to lay on top of him. “This is comfortable,” you muttered into the back of his hoodie.

You heard him hum in agreement.

“Dude, I don't even know how you're keeping up with your classes during baseball season,” you whispered and began mindlessly drawing flowers on his back.

“I'm not.”

You had to bury your face into his back to suppress your snort. “That's valid.”

“Thanks.”

“Awwh,” you murmured and wrapped your arms around his back. “It's gonna be okay. I promise.” Out of the two of you, Eric was usually the one with the sunny disposition, but it didn't mean you wouldn't jump at the opportunity to help him feel better. He deserved just as much tender love and care.

For a moment, you stayed in that position with your body covering his and your arms wrapped around him. If you weren't careful, you might have fallen asleep like that.

Eventually, you peeled yourself off of him and coaxed him to sit up with you. “Study for an hour with me and then we can get a treat.”

“Your face is a treat,” he said groggily, rubbing his eye from behind his glasses while yawning.

You covered up any signs of being flustered with, “Is that how you pull girls, Sohn?”

“No, that's how I pull you.”

You didn't need to feel your skin to know your face was on fire. He didn't even glance over at you, only sleepily smacked his lips together and pulled his laptop lid up with robotic motions. Maybe that was a good thing though. You still weren't too sure how you felt about his flirty remarks as of late, and they had yet to cease.

But… you looked over at Eric and he was already getting to work—you could deal with it later. It wasn't like it meant anything, right? Surely, the quickening of your heart and continually flustered state because of him meant absolutely nothing, right? Of course. And they definitely weren't signs that you liked his increased lines. Definitely.

(Who the fuck were you trying to fool?)

As promised, after about an hour passed by, you and Eric packed up your things to head out to find something to munch on. With spring slowly fading out into a pretty summer, the sun gleamed from its perch in the sky to warm the day. The trees lining the walkway were beginning to lose their flower buds in exchange for rich, dark green leaves.

A few minutes out from the university's main campus, you and Eric walked into a bakery that was frequented by many of your peers. It wasn't a complete surprise to see that nearly all of the tables inside were occupied by people with headphones in, laptops on, and books out.

You and Eric hopped in line, nonetheless, your eyes darting from the display case to the room to scout for an open table. Your fingers drummed against the strap of your bag. “You know what you're getting?”

He hummed. “The almond croissant kind of sounds good right now. What about you?”

“Might get a sandwich, to be honest,” you said. You hadn't had a filling breakfast, so you might as well make up for it.

“Which sandwich?”

“You're not paying.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully with a purse of his lips. “That's what you think.”

He did not pay for your sandwich.

While there was not a single open table inside, there were plenty of them outside. Eric wrinkled his nose at you as you were just about to take a bite of your sandwich. You stopped short. “What? Don't tell me you're butthurt, Sohn.”

“That’s such a weird word,” he said, gently pulling a piece of the croissant apart for him to put into his mouth.

“What, butthurt?” You could agree with that. It was kind of funny. “True, but it describes you pretty well.”

He laughed then, his eyes turning upward into pretty, little crescent moons. Since the two of you were forced to sit outside, the sunshine had an easier path to paint over your friend's face and make him look even more ethereal. A feeling worked its way into your chest at the sight of him like this. “Okay, honey. Whatever.”

You smiled around your bite, replying only after you'd swallowed it, “See? Butthurt.”

“I'm a good sport though.”

“Fine, I will admit that you're a good sport.”

His smile widened as if satisfied with that answer.

From within your bag, you could hear an aggressive vibration from your phone. You set your meal down to wipe your hands, then fished the device out.

At the sight of the text messages, your face morphed into one of mild amusement concealing a whole lot of “what the heck?”

Eric noticed your change in mood. “Something wrong?”

“Not necessarily?” You opened up the text chain that you had with Bae Sumin, one of your friends whom you met from a composition class you both shared in freshman year. “She's asking if you'd be interested in being set up for a date.”

You didn't know why there had been a spike of panic in your heart after reading it. It wasn't like you had any claim over Eric; that wouldn't be right to gatekeep him, especially when you didn't like him like… that, right?

His brows knitted together as he skimmed over the messages. When he was done he leaned away, his head already shaking. “I'm not really interested.”

“Really?” You asked curiously, withdrawing your phone back to your side of the table and mentally drafting a text message back. “Sieun's pretty nice.”

“I'm just—” he nudged his glasses up, letting out a breathy laugh, “—I’d rather figure that all out for myself, y'know? It's not like I don't think Sieun's a good person, but I…” He huffed, and it sounded almost frustrated.

You didn't know why you felt guilty all of a sudden. “You don't have to explain it to me, dude,” you said and began texting Sumin back. “If you don't want to, then you don't want to, y'know? It's better than leading her on.”

“Yeah,” he murmured.

“So you're not interested in anyone then?” You asked, in an attempt to slowly bring the conversation away from matchmaking. “You know what? You don't have to say anything—we can talk about something else—”

“I'm interested in someone,” he cut in.

You paused, surprised. You felt your pulse leap. Who? You wanted to ask, but instead inquired, “Really?”

He avoided your eyes. “Yep.”

“Oh.” Well that would make sense why he didn't want to be set up with someone else. Why couldn't he just say that in the first place then?

You gnawed on your bottom lip and couldn't help but think about who Eric could be interested in. There was a jittery flutter in your stomach at the thought. You didn't want to pry, but you were also curious as to who he was interested in. “Well, uh, good for you! I think that's really great.”

That… sounded so insincere.

Eric lifted his gaze to yours, and you felt a jolt run down your spine at the look in his eyes. “Thanks, Yn. I don't really know what to do though, to be honest.”

You frowned, tucking your phone away. “About—about the person? Or about your feelings?”

“I guess,” he said with a helpless gesture of his hands, “both.”

You pressed your lips together. It had been awhile since you were remotely interested in anyone either. And even back then, you were never the sort of person to speak up about your feelings with the person first. But this was Eric, and you wanted to at least try to help him. “Is this person not someone you think you should have feelings for? I guess I’m just asking why you feel conflicted or helpless.”

“Kind of,” he said, tongue in cheek. “They’re—they’re one of my—” He stopped himself. “They’re one of the best people I know, I just don’t think they feel the same way.”

“And so you don’t want to risk losing them should you confess?” You finished for him. You felt your posture droop with sympathy, and maybe a bit of envy. Who could this be about?

Eric scratched the underside of his jaw. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Well, I mean, if they’re as good of a person as you say, I think that they wouldn’t hold it against you or your friendship if you confessed and they didn’t feel the same.” If you were in his situation, you wouldn’t want to lose Eric ei—wait, what? Why were you thinking of it like that? You shook yourself out of whatever delusional headspace you found yourself in. “And in any case, maybe you can flirt with them, or hint to them your feelings and see how they respond.”

His eyebrow arched high. “I’ve definitely done that.”

“And?”

He smirked, a chuckle falling out of his mouth. “They may be one of the best people I know, but they’re as oblivious as a rock sometimes.”

Your own brows lifted. “Damn.” And you knew exactly how blatant Eric’s flirting style was.

Eric’s eyes caught onto something behind you, and you sat up to see what he was looking at. Just on the other side of the outside seating area, you recognized Mark Lee and Kim Jungwoo from Eric’s baseball team strolling past.

Mark lifted a hand, his mouth widening into a grin. “Hey, man! What’s up?”

Eric greeted his teammates with his usual cheeriness, clasping his hand with theirs.

“Oh my gosh, is this the—”

“The best friend,” Eric interrupted, his eyes darting to you. Both Mark and Jungwoo did the same thing, so now you were worried about why they were looking at you like that. “Yeah, this is Yn, my best friend.”

Jungwoo grabbed Mark by his shoulder and extended a greeting fist bump toward you. “Nice to finally meet you, Yn. Eric’s told us a lot about you.”

“Oh?” You glanced over at Eric before reciprocating the gesture. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Hope he’s only said good things,” you jested. Partly.

“Oh, all the good things; don’t worry,” Mark chirped. “We’ll see you at practice later, Eric!”

Eric lifted his hand in a wave as they continued down the street. “See you then!”

Once you were sure they were out of earshot, you picked up your sandwich again. “So you talk about me to your teammates?”

“All good things—you heard Mark,” he said with a laugh, but for some reason, you thought you detected a hint of uncertainty there. “How could I not talk about you?”

“Careful there, you’re starting to sound like you’re obsessed with me.”

“Well, maybe I am,” he shot back at you. He brushed the crumbs from his finished croissant onto the plate, reaching for the small stack of napkins between you two. “But seriously, don’t worry about what those guys said. They just like to mess with me.”

You lifted a shoulder in a meager shrug. “No worries, man. I’m obsessed with you, too, so the feeling’s mutual.”

You relished in the way his countenance noticeably lifted, his expression brightened, the corners of his lips curling into the apples of his pinkened cheeks like twin divots. All of a sudden it was just you and Eric, and you could forget about everything and everyone else.

“He said the L word?” Vernon let out a melodramatic gasp, which made it all the more funny since he'd said it with the most monotonous tone. His eyes had gone wide enough to see the white of his eyes though, and you practically doubled over because of him.

Ningning, unaffected by Vernon's silliness, nodded vigorously. “He said he loved her first! Isn't that crazy?”

You plucked out one of your opened water bottles from the fridge. “I don't think it's that crazy. Is it weird that I don't think it's that crazy?”

Vernon sank deeper into the couch cushion he sat on, eyes already drifting closed. “It's Kim Sunwoo; I don't think it's that crazy either.”

“Am I the only person who was shocked by this?”

“Yes,” you and Vernon answered at once.

Ningning rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. I guess I can see it, too. But it's just weird because he never gave any indication that he even liked her.”

“He was probably just suppressing it?” Vernon offered with a yawn. “Maybe he's just got a lot on his plate. My friend Seungcheol's a little emotionally constipated, too, but it's 'cause he's been slammed by his work stuff.”

“Isn't it crazy that people our age are telling other people they love them already? Like, love-love, and not some kind of primary-school-playground-love.” You moved yourself to join your friends in your micro living room. There was a gathering of laptops and papers scattered on the coffee table, but no one had touched them since they'd been brought out. Finals week burnout was real and tangible.

“One day,” Ningning sighed, less so lovey dovey, and more so exhausted as hell. She leaned her cheek against the back of her knuckles. “I don't know if I wanna get married though.”

“I think marriage is cool,” said Vernon. He had now taken on a coffin position with his arms crossed firmly over his chest and his face tilted up toward the ceiling. “As long as it's with the right person.”

“Yeah, stuff like that can't be rushed,” you agreed. You weren't sure what your plans for the future were; you just hoped you had your friends by your side, at the very least.

All this talk about partners and futures had your mind turning toward your conversation with Eric from lunch the other day. Did he see this crush of his as a potential life partner? He deserved that—someone who loved him as much as he no doubt loved them. Where would that leave you? Didn't you want something like that, too?

“Let's not talk about marriage anymore.” Ningning fwumped onto her side over the remainder of the sectional that Vernon wasn't lying on. She'd clearly given up on studying, same as Vernon. “How's Eric doing, Yn?”

Your head perked up. “Eric? What about Eric?”

“Oh, I dunno.” She held her phone screen directly above her face as she scrolled through social media, her lips pressed together. “Chenle said that Mark said that he's interested in somebody.”

It seemed news traveled fast, but then again, you didn't know how long Eric had been interested in this mystery person. You blinked, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Ah, yeah. He mentioned something about that to me, but he didn't tell me who it was.”

Ningning turned her head slightly to face you and her eyebrow was flicked up toward her hairline. “You're serious?”

“Well, yeah. I'm not gonna force it out of him.”

Vernon peeked one eye open. “Dude, you know that guy would do anything for you, right? If you asked one more time, he probably would have folded like a lawn chair.”

You sent him a pointed look. “I'm not about to force him to give away something sensitive like that. I admit that I'm curious, but…” It just wasn't your business.

He frowned at you, then went back to his half-conscious state.

Were you missing something?

Ningning rolled over completely onto her side. “How about this: how do you feel about Eric being interested in someone?”

Why was this the sudden topic of discussion? You pursed your lips, eyebrows furrowing. “Is this a trick question?”

“Why would it be a trick question?”

You exhaled. “He said that the person he liked was one of the best people he knew, so I'm happy for him. Like I said earlier, it would be nice to know who it was, but I don't want to make him give up something if he's not ready to yet.” That would just be unfair.

Vernon opened his eyes again and turned to Ningning. “Doesn't this sound like an automated response?”

You deadpanned. “It is not an automated response. It's—y’know, why wouldn't I be happy for him?”

With a dead serious tone, your friends said simultaneously, “Because you're in love with him.”

That statement struck a match against your cheeks and set them ablaze. Your lips parted, words failing you. Because you're in love with him?

At your speechlessness, Ningning moved to sit up straight. “We think it's because you have feelings for him,” she rephrased, as if that was any better.

“I do not have feelings for him.”

“I think you do; you might be mistaking it as something else.”

You garbled with the words in your brain, but they slipped and fumbled and wouldn't line up correctly on your tongue. It was to the point that you had to put a pause on trying to come up with a retort, and rather, piece this together logically. There had to be a reason for why both Ningning and Vernon were on the same page with this.

It came to you then, slowly, like a train pulling into the station. It was every one of his flirtatious maneuvers to get you flustered, the bittersweetness you didn't want to acknowledge at the thought that he was interested in somebody else. It was that look in his eyes that you couldn't describe, the way he tripped over his words when it came to calling you a friend. The voice over the intercom was announcing the stop as the train came to a gradual halt.

“Oh.”

Ningning frowned slightly, her head nodding. Vernon was actually awake now. “Yeah.”

So what now?

You knew Eric just finished with his organic chemistry final when you found him passed out on your couch. You'd been out working for the majority of the day and passed him a set of spare keys to your apartment to let himself in whenever he was done so the two of you could start your long awaited movie marathon night. The sun had just set and you'd come with a bag of groceries to make dinner, but all you could think about was the guy snoozing on the couch, his tufts of hair sticking out of his hood.

Cute.

By the time he woke up, you had dinner fixed up, and the apartment was filled with divine aromatics. Some said the smell of food usually made chefs feel full, but you hadn't eaten properly since you left for your shift this morning.

The lump on the couch stirred as you turned off the stove and turned toward the sink to start washing the dishes. You didn't like washing dishes, but it was a necessary evil. Earlier, you’d found the evidence that Eric had helped himself to some of the instant noodles in your cabinets, leaving a note by the dishes in the sink: Sorry, I promise I'll wash these when I wake up!!

You knew he would have kept his word, but you also knew how hard he worked and stressed over that damn exam. It was no inconvenience toward you to wash just a couple extra things.

Eric rolled onto his feet and shuffled into the kitchen, his eyes fluttering to adjust to the warm lighting. “Hi,” he rasped, voice hoarse from his nap.

His chin found your shoulder. “I said I'd wash those,” he murmured, referring to the small pot you were washing now.

“I know. I thought I'd do it anyway.”

“You hate washing the dishes.”

Your movements paused for a second. The organ in your chest was galloping away again, but now you knew the reason. Your head shifted slightly as it bumped against his gently. “I know.”

He was quiet for a moment before his arms came around your form and settled across your stomach and waist. “Thanks. Sorry for the mess.”

“There was no mess, silly goose,” you told him.

“I'll wash the ones after dinner.”

You murmured, “It's okay, Eric. I know you're good for it.”

Eric let out a breath against your neck, his head tucking into the warmth there. “I love you.”

At once, you both froze. You felt his body tense up around you, and knew your movements had stopped completely. You'd both heard what he said crystal clear and even the volume of the sink faucet couldn't dismiss it as a trick of the ear.

“Shit.” He detached himself from you just as you finished washing. You reached for the dry towel next to you on the counter to dry your hands, then turned around to face him. His eyes were wide like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I didn't say that aloud, did I?”

You smiled through a small wince. “You kind of did.”

“What if I left and pretended I wasn't even here?—”

You stepped forward and grabbed him by the shoulders. You gave him a little shake, the smile on your face sweetening. “Hey, Eric. I love you, too.”

His lips fell into a pout. “No, Yn. You—you don't get it. It's—I… I love you.”

“I know,” you said and moved your hands up to cup his face. There was a wobble in his eyes as you said this, that puppy pout deepening. “And I love you, too.”

Eric wrapped his arms around you tight then, a breath of air pushing out from his lips in utter relief. “Oh my god, you have,” he stammered, “no idea how—just—” He pulled away from you and pressed his lips to the side of your face.

You laughed, your hand coming up to cup the back of his head.

His face was split wide open by a massive grin and his eyes, his beautiful eyes, gleamed like a pair of twin stars beneath the dim kitchen lights. “Do you know how hard this has been for me?” He exclaimed while throwing his hands up in the air. “Do you know how much pain I was in when you couldn't get the hint—”

“Hey! Normal people don't just assume that their best friend has feelings for them,” you stuttered out in your own defense.

Eric tilted his head up to the ceiling. “I have literally flirted at you, right to your face.”

“You have a flirty personality.”

“And you are oblivious.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, your head cocking to the side. “Agree to disagree?”

He sighed and the sound was something happy and bright. “Agree to disagree,” he replied. He smiled at you again, but the corners were softer and mellower, the tenderness shining through like the glow of a lamp covered in a fabric shade. “I've been dying to tell you since I went to LA; I just didn't know how.”

“LA?” You parroted.

“I just couldn't stop thinking about wanting you there with me,” he said like it was the easiest thing in the world. “I'd be in the hotel room, staring up at the ceiling with the stupidest smile on my face thinkin’ 'bout you, and then I'd realize I actually was in love with you. It would flip-flop between those two things all trip long.”

You chuckled as you imagined Eric's starkly different facial expressions for each version of himself. It was an amusing thought. “Well, for what it's worth, I'm sorry for all the strife I put you through.”

His hands warmed over the sides of your arms. “Hey, honey, it was all worth it in the end.”

“You know,” you said, playing with one of the strings of his hoodie, and his hands came to rest around your waist loosely, “if the comfort and—the warmth and the happiness I feel around you is love, then I think I've been in love with you since the day we met.”

Eric's lips pressed in a deep pout again. “Come on! You can't possibly say that and not expect me to wanna kiss you.”

“I'm not saying no,” you teased.

There was that smile again. He licked his lips once and leaned over to gently press his mouth against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let his softness consume you and ignite you all at once. It occurred to you that you were never scared of losing Eric as a friend—this was just what was next for you both.

When you both pulled away, your breaths still intermingling, his cheeks were a pretty, bubblegum pink color.

“Was that your first kiss?” You joked even though you knew full well it wasn't.

His laugh was low, but his expression brightened. “Might as well be,” he said, “it's the only one I wanna remember.”

Your tongue stuck out of the corner of your mouth as you carefully pulled the loops of ribbon through itself to create the perfect, matching bow to the one on the other side of your head. Chenle was hosting a start-of-summer party, and it was mandated that you and your friends attend (according to Ningning).

Through your mirror, your eyes caught a presence at your bedroom door. “Oh my god, you're so cute,” Eric groaned, turning to the side to melodramatically hit his head against the doorframe.

You melted into a smile. “Thanks. I wasn't really sure how they would look actually.”

“Well, they're perfect. You’re perfect. Please don't take them off.” He came over to join you were you sat on the floor in front of your body length mirror.

You wiggled around a strand of pink ribbon you had cut off earlier, but didn't end up using because it was way too long for a hair bow. “I've got an extra piece. Do you want it?”

He scoffed, a hand carding through his hair, “Of course, I want it.”

Very pleased with his response, you clambered onto your knees to decide where to put it. He was dressed casually with a loose tank top, board shorts, and a cap on backwards. You squinted one of your eyes closed. “I've got it.”

“You've got it?” He repeated with a chuckle, smile widening as you practically climbed into his lap. “Hi,” he said with your faces close to each other and his hands resting on either side of your waist.

“Calm down there, tiger,” you teased, “I'm just gonna tie it where everyone can see it.”

You looped the ribbon around his left bicep, his arm subtly flexing as you did so. You made sure the bow looked as perfect as you were capable of making it. With a little pat of your hand, you deemed that it was all set.

“Perfect,” he said with a nod of affirmation.

You nodded along with him. “I'd agree.”

“Hey.” He drew your attention over to him once more and his hands pulled you flush against him. There was a goofy grin on his lips as he gazed at you with wide, doe-like eyes that melted into pairs of molten chocolate. “Do you think…”

“Do I think?” You prompted, wrapping your arms around the back of his shoulders.

“Do you think that if I kissed you in front of our friends, they'd realize we were dating?”

A laugh fell from your mouth, and Eric had never seen something so pretty in his life. (There were few things worthy of being engraved on the backs of one's eyelids, but he thought he just found a view that was. He would chase your smile until the end of time.)

“What?” He beamed. “Good idea, right?”

“I thought we said we were soft launching,” you said, the smile yet to retreat.

“I guess,” he sighed dramatically and leaned back onto his hand to drape the other one across his forehead like a damsel in distress.

You went forward to kiss him. “You're cute.”

“Isn't that my line?” He teased. He licked his lips a little then, expression becoming thoughtful. “I know this is gonna be something different—this relationship—but at the same time, I feel like nothing's changed.”

Swoon. You went in for another kiss and lingered there a bit longer when his hand came up to cup the back of your neck. “It'll be different and the same,” you agreed. “Just better.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Definitely better.”

It was scary—this venture into new territory. It was something that both you and Eric would experience and discover together. But on the bright side, at least you were in love. Maybe that was all that mattered in the end.

a/n: everybody say 'thank god she expanded the plot'

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary

#some of these lines bro……. i’m screaming crying throwing up #this was just so damn CUTE AGGHHHH #the boyz fanfiction #the boyz fanfic #eric sohn imagines

[ashonheavenscloud]

i fall || b. chan

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ contents: bang chan x fem!reader, angst of a hopeless love, autumnal wistfulness and nostalgia :(

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ word count: 4.8k

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ warnings: none

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n: i love love love using seasons as a motif oh my goshhhhh. enjoy! (even if it’s heartbreaking)

now playing - 21 - gracie abrams

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Chan should have known from your first whirlwind of a meeting that he’d fallen into something hopeless.

Felix had been the one to introduce the two of you; you’d appeared out of the blue, on a particularly cool autumn afternoon. Chan had been minding his business, listening to Felix rant about his day while the older boy cleaned the coffee shop tables and counters. The place had been empty- courtesy of small town living- and the sound of a bell had alerted the two of them instantly of a new arrival.

His first glimpse of you had been you running, grinning as you all but jumped into Felix’s arms with exclamations and laughter. “Lix! Oh my god, you’re actually still here!”

“And you’re back!” Felix replied, holding you out at arms distance. Chan observed from the sidelines, a little confused but more curious. Your smile was bright and captivating, and he found himself instantly liking you. He didn’t know why, he just had a good feeling about you from the beginning.

“Ah!” Felix exclaimed, seeming to remember Chan’s presence. “Y/n, I’d like you to meet Chan. He’s a good friend.”

You exchanged hellos as Felix babbled, “Chan, Y/n used to live just in the next town. Although she’s been slacking on her visits.”

“Hey, I never promised anything.” You argued, lightheartedly before turning back to Chan.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he expected when meeting you, but he was surprised when conversation flowed so easily that Felix teased you must have met before and hidden it from him. You were just so engaging and exciting- and it didn’t take long for Chan to consider you close to his heart.

It was odd, considering how different the two of you really were. Chan could never understand your passion for travelling- it came in part with your job, but mostly because- as you confessed- you didn’t like to stay put for long, preferring a more scattered existence. Chan himself found comfort in the stability of the city he’d always loved, it’s steady rhythm that remained a constant in his life. He could never seem to leave it for long- it’s borders were his home, and the people inside his family.

“We, my friend, are clearly very different.” You’d chuckled, shaking your head.

“Can’t be that different.” Chan insisted, ducking behind the cafe counter with a shrug. “How do you feel about blueberry muffins?”

You smiled at him- and looking back, he’d been a lost cause even this early on. He hadn’t been able to help it when your smile was somehow brighter than fireworks and took his breath away just as easily.

Chan wondered for a long time if your meeting was fate. You popped back into his life with every change of the seasons, threw him for a loop and then disappeared again for weeks at a time. Where he figured it should have driven him crazy, he only felt more anticipation for the next whirlwind you brought him- and you never failed to come back no matter how long since your last connection. You returned like autumn; and Chan couldn’t help but fall harder for you every time.

And now your latest visit was just beginning- Felix and Chan had picked you up from the train station the day before, and you’d informed them you planned on staying for longer than your usual couple days. That small piece of news was enough to make Chan both excited and anxious. While he had more time with you, he knew it would speed past like always. He figured he should plan the days, work out his free time and whatnot. However, as always, you seemed to sneak up on him and throw all his meticulous strategizing out the window- and this time was no different.

It was a particularly cool day- only a few nights since your arrival- when he found you standing in a faint drizzle, huddled in a forest green raincoat by the bus stop. Your boots absentmindedly scuffed at the colourful leaves that littered the ground in soaked piles. Their earthy smell was one of your favourite scents, Chan knew; it was something you never failed to remind him of.

You glanced up at him just before he reached you, and a bright smile lit your face. He felt his heart stammer, the damned thing a reminder of your affect on him.

“I always liked the rain.” You raised your face to the sky, smiling at the tiny droplets that coated your face and dampened your hair. The peace in your expression was something Chan envied. Content always seemed to come so easily to you. “It makes me feel alive.”

“I suppose it does.” Chan replied softly, holding his free hand out to let the rain douse his palm. After a minute of silence, he bobbed his umbrella in your vague direction. “Does that mean you wouldn’t like to share this?”

You mumbled something that seemed suspiciously sarcastic before shuffling to join Chan under the umbrella. His nerves tingled at your sudden closeness, the warmth of your body pressed against his side. His heart was beating frantically, and he couldn’t help but grin.

“Thank you.” You peered at him, and nudged him. “What’s with the smile?”

“Nothing.” Chan replied quickly; your smile grew and he felt compelled to add an excuse. “It’s just that you’re right. The rain, it’s… refreshing in a way.”

“Of course I’m right.” You tossed your hair dramatically. “I’m always right.”

Chan laughed, and you flicked water at him.

“It’s nice to see you.” 

His eyes swiveled to meet your own, caught off guard by the sudden confession. You were rarely, if ever, forthright with your affection.

“Out of nowhere?” He had to question with a flustered chuckle.

You shrugged, staring out at the grey sky.  “I don’t know. It actually seemed overdue.”

And your bus pulled up then, leaving Chan to puzzle over your words as he was left alone in the rain.

He wondered late into the night what exactly you’d meant, his heart becoming a little too excited at the prospect of you staying for a while… whatever a while meant. He knew he shouldn’t hope, but in the early am’s he couldn't help it. He couldn’t help but imagine what it might be like to have you here. Here, with him, close enough to touch and hold. 

But he was getting carried away, he knew, shaking his head to try and clear it of the ridiculous idea. It didn’t matter what happened in the next two weeks. At the end of it all, you would be gone again. He shouldn’t expect anything.

Yet he hoped- and he hoped more strongly than he’d intended. Perhaps, in hindsight, it hadn’t been entirely his fault. You’d been consistent in meeting him somewhere along his bus route, and the ride through town had been so much lighter with you there to talk with. He asked you so many questions, and you never seemed to grow bored of answering them. How do you take your coffee? Straight black, but on occasion you’d add sugar. Do you like thunderstorms? The only form of rain you didn’t approve of. And even though you travel so much, where do you think your heart calls home? For that one, you’d laughed half heartedly, “I shouldn’t-”

“Tell me.” Chan was far too curious. 

You paused to play with the straps of your bag, staring out at the rain and the rainbow of trees. He almost wondered if you might not answer, or say something vague, or reply with ‘I don’t know.’ But then you looked at him with the echo of a smile.

“I suppose it’s always been here.”

He shouldn’t hope. He knew it would bring himself nothing but heartache.

But god, he couldn’t help it with you.

…

As he’d expected, the days flew by. He spent as much time as he could with you- at least, when he could find you. Felix joined you occasionally, but he was often busy with papers to complete and tests to study for. His first year of university was already proving to be difficult. Chan couldn’t complain in this instance- although he felt for the boy, he was also more than happy to spend his time with you, just the two of you. All the while though, he had to remind himself that you weren’t staying- like always, he would watch you leave again.

A couple days before you left, Chan convinced you to meet him at his tiny house. It had been a while since you’d been there, and Chan knew there was a particular something- or someone- you’d like to see.

“Berry!” You exclaimed, the fluffy spaniel immediately racing over at the sound of the door opening. You crouched to pet the puppy, tail wagging enthusiastically, and for a few minutes Chan just watched you with a smile. 

“She missed you.”

It was meant to say more than that, and maybe you picked up on that- because you turned your face away with a small grin. “Seems like it.”

Berry decided petting wasn’t enough and ran to find a toy to bring back. In the meantime, Chan urged you further into the house, a small one story that still sometimes felt too big to Chan. It was nice to have someone- even if momentarily- fill it again.

“Nothing’s changed…” you murmured, falling onto the nearby sofa with a sigh. “I don’t even think that pile of clothes in the corner have moved-”

“Hey, of course they have.” Chan laughed, cheeks flaming as he scooped up the various items and stuffing them hastily into his room close by. “Felix dropped these off- he didn’t want them and offered them to me.”

“If you say so.”

Chan threw a pillow at you, which you caught with a laugh and hugged tightly- oddly endearing to him. “Want something to eat? Drink?”

He smiled to himself when he heard your feet hit the floor and patter after him into the kitchen. “Is that even a question?”

He laughed, swinging open the fridge. “Soda?”

“You know me so well.”

He couldn’t help but grin as he pulled out a grape soda for you and a ginger ale for himself. After collecting a small plate of mini donuts to go along, you both settled on the sofa again, with Berry curled up between you.

“You know, I bet it doesn’t taste half bad together.” You insisted, imitating dipping a donut into Chan’s drink.

“No way!”

“It’s not that different from milk and cookies! Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“It’s not about adventure, it’s about-”

“If it’s disgusting, at least you’ll have tried.” 

“I’ll stick to what I know, thanks.” Chan laughed, taking a sip of his soda.

You shrugged, grinning.

It was moments like these that filled Chan’s heart the most- and simultaneously made it sink. Because it wouldn’t last. Because soon enough, this house would be painfully empty again. Of course, Felix would come occasionally- when he had time- and Berry was good company. But… it wasn’t the same as you. 

“You said nothing’s different.” Chan murmured, setting down his drink. 

You blinked at him. “Is there?”

Chan nodded, standing and motioning for you to follow him. He felt strangely nervous as you both entered his bedroom, and Chan stopped just inside.

“Look.”

You paused in the doorway, following where he pointed before your hand flew to cover the gasp from your mouth. “Chan! You got it!”

Chan looked down shyly, fingers lightly brushing the head of the sand coloured guitar sitting beside his bed. “Yeah, I took your advice.”

The last time you’d been here, Chan had confessed to wanting to learn to play the guitar. But he’d been unsure- the cost of the instrument alone had been deterring- but you’d encouraged him to go for it.

“Worst thing that happens is you don’t end up loving it.” You’d told him. “But… you could. You really could.”

Now, you raced over to gently touch the instrument, fingertips tracing the edges. “Oh my god, Chan. And?”

“And… I really like it.” He admitted with a small laugh- for some reason he felt nervous as he lifted the instrument and plopped onto the bed. “I’m sure I’m not that good yet, but-”

“Play for me!” You insisted- ah, right. That’s why he was nervous. Of course you’d ask for him to play.

“I’m still learning, really-”

“I don’t care, I just want to hear you.” You pleaded, sitting beside him on the bed. Your knees brushed his, sending a jolt through Chan’s body at your proximity. Your eyes were shining as he looked back at you, already knowing he was defeated. 

He could never help it with you.

“Alright.” Chan blew out a breath. “Don't hope for much though.”

You just waited, chin propped on your hands- and so Chan counted to three in his head, before strumming the first chord.

It was a familiar song to you both- a favourite you both shared, a sentimental love song you knew every word to. And although Chan was slow at remembering the chords, and you weren’t the best singer, a soft melody filled the room as you hummed to his strumming. Chan filled in with harmonies, closing his eyes to listen as peace took over his heart. Your voice, the song- he could live in this moment forever. And he didn’t even notice the way you were watching him, until the song ended and he opened his eyes to find your sparkling gaze and happy smile focused on him.

The last chord faded and was replaced with an almost tangible silence as Chan’s grip on the guitar loosened, and he let it gently slide to the floor. His eyes could not leave yours as he held his breath, fingertips tingling. He wanted to reach out to you, he wanted to take your hand that sat so temptingly close to his on the blankets. Just the thought made his stomach jolt nervously. He was frozen- and then the moment was over.

You blinked and looked away, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You’re not half bad.”

“Thanks.” Chan replied, because he didn’t know what the hell else to say. His mind was a mess of questions paired with screaming disappointment that he’d let his chance pass.

His chance?

This was what he contemplated long after you’d said goodbye and parted ways. He couldn’t deny the tension that had hovered in the air when your eyes had locked and he hadn’t seemed to be able to turn away. Even more rattling, though, was the heavy feeling of his heart when he thought about that moment. Because… 

Gosh, it had never been this hard to imagine you not being here.

Why was it so difficult this time? He’d thought the miles between you would be bearable as long as he knew that you’d turn up again- he’d been fairly content with it for a time- but for some reason, the idea of watching you walk away even once more had him pacing in his room at nearly 4 am two days before your departure. He’d known damn well not to dabble in optimism for this particular situation, but he hadn’t been able to help it. He loved you. He could admit it now, a silent confession to the stars that would listen. He loved you desperately, feverently, hopelessly. And now, he didn’t know if he could say goodbye this time around.

It was either insanity or the product of a panicking, blinded heart- which is, by all accounts, very nearly the same thing- when he asked you to meet him at the cafe you’d first met at those many years ago. It was a cloudy but pleasant evening, the sky barely darkening as a light sprinkling of cold rain dampened the streets. You were already waiting for him when he arrived, and Chan wasn’t sure if the feeling in his chest was warmth or dread when he noticed you’d remembered his coffee order- and it sat across from you, steam curling steadily into the air.

Chan felt anything but steady at this moment. Because he didn’t even know what he was going to say; he just knew he had to do something.

“Hi.” Chan greeted you with a small smile, ducking into the empty seat as you responded with your own hello. Silence settled over the cafe- interrupted only by a shuffling employee’s feet and the whir of machinery- before you cleared your throat.

“You were quite mysterious over the phone.” You stirred the tea in your mug, swirling the tea bag around and around before turning a teasing smile his way. “Well?”

Chan laughed, a short and nervous laugh, before shrugging. “Well,” he blew at his drink to cool it- and to buy himself a bit of time to mull over his words- before saying, “I suppose this is just a last little… something before you-”

His shrug felt heavy, like his very body loathed any reference to you leaving. You merely smiled, as Chan distracted himself with a sip of his cappuccino. Yes. Just the way he liked it…

“Everything comes to an end at some point.” You answered simply with a smile. How could you smile? Chan felt like he was being pulled in two directions, and getting ready to snap. “I mean, even life ends- we all die, don’t we? Ah, gosh-” you laughed, sipping your own drink. “I didn’t mean for it to sound so dark and final.”

He didn’t know what to say. He felt like a thread fraying, piece by piece, and he was sitting here pretending like the thought of you leaving tomorrow didn’t make him bat crazy. He remained silent, gripping his mug a little too tightly.

Either you didn’t notice or didn’t want to say anything, because you just kept talking. “It was wonderful to come. To see you, to see Felix. I’ve always loved this place… especially in autumn.”

Snap. Snap. Each tiny bit of his thread.

“It is beautiful.” He made himself say, a desperate attempt to keep himself together. 

You smiled at him, and said, “Thank you for making me feel so welcomed when I’m here, Chan. I… don’t know how to tell you how much that means to me.”

He couldn’t do this.

“Ah, I almost forgot-” you dug into your bag, and pulled out something small. Chan watched as you cradled a small box in your hands. “I meant to give it to you all week but… well, honestly, I didn’t know how to do it.”

You handed it to Chan, who surveyed the creamy white container, simple and plain. And when he opened the box…

It was a picture, framed simply in black. What took Chan’s breath away was the photo- he knew exactly where it was from. Last year, you’d visited for New Years and joined him and Felix and a few other people on the roof of the cafe for a celebration. You’d counted down until the New Year, and in the spur of the moment you’d pecked his cheek- after all, tradition right? you’d said while laughing, while Chan had tried desperately not to appear as flustered as he’d been. You hadn’t made a big deal out of it, so neither had Chan; he hadn’t said anything about it since, and neither had you- but here you were, frozen together in the picture. You’d kept that? Chan barely had time to take it in before you were speaking again, words coming a mile a minute.

“… I found it, so I printed it out and all that- and I don’t know, I thought you might want it. I mean,” you laughed, and it sounded uncharacteristically nervous. “I wanted you to have it. This is kind of my… confession.”

His mind was spinning, but it was still able to latch onto that word- and suddenly he couldn’t breathe.

“Because I’m leaving again, and Chan… I just had to tell you. Isn’t that selfish? But you deserve to know that I care about you more than you might think.”

No. No, why like this? 

In every scenario he’d imagined today would go, this hadn't even crossed his mind. You… and him… but you were…

He was trying to grasp words to say, anything at all but they escaped him. He was completely thrown off guard, and his heart felt like it was coming up his throat. His hands dropped to the table, too heavy now to lift. His eyes drifted from the picture frame clutched between his fingers and your hand sitting inches away.

Inches.

You were still speaking, “I kept putting off giving it to you for some reason. But it will be so busy at the train station, and I didn’t want to-”

“You could stay, you know.”

The thread had snapped, the words bursting from him before he’d even registered them- and coming out more choked than he’d intended. You met Chan’s gaze, and he could see the warring of your mind before you slowly shook your head. 

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” 

“I don’t know, Chan. I feel crowded if I stay here too long. Like I can’t breathe right, like… like I’m trapped.”

He didn’t understand. He knew you cared for him, knew you might even share a fraction of the adoration he had for you. Why wouldn’t you even try?

“I’m not like you, Chan.” You added softly, tracing your index finger absentmindedly against your mug. Maybe to avoid looking at him. “I could never be content with a simple life. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with one, just… I would hate it. I would grow to despise this place, and I’m afraid I might begin to despise you with it.”

“I don’t believe that.” Chan whispered- mostly because he didn’t want to.

You smiled a bit at that, and looked up at him with sad, soulful eyes. “Would you be happy, then, to leave? To come along with me instead?”

He hated the way his eyes burned with the beginnings of tears. And he really hated that you both knew the answer.

“I know.” You whispered, turning away to gaze at the vibrant trees outside. Raindrops slipped from the colourful leaves and splashed into tiny puddles forming along the sidewalk. “That’s why I won’t ask it of you.” After a pause, you said. “It’s a dream, Chan, nothing more.”

“Then why do you keep coming back?”

He caught the smallest tug of your teeth on your bottom lip, before you turned back to him. “Because I liked this dream. Maybe even loved it.”

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bear this anymore. The distance had used to excite him in a way, as it kept him on his toes waiting for you- but now it just hurt. He wanted you close and then closer- and then some.

“Just… think about it.” He pleaded, unable to stop himself from reaching out to take your hand. The coolness of your skin sent a rush through his body.

Surprisingly, you didn’t pull away; instead you squeezed his hand, pausing before letting it fall. “See you tomorrow.”

You stood and left the shop; Chan gripped the framed photo long after you’d disappeared from view.

…

The train came too soon.

The packed station made it difficult for Chan and Felix to push their way through. In the meantime, Chan had plenty to think about. To fret about. He played with the sleeves of his jacket. His head was spinning, and he stumbled over the feet of a few passersby.

“Chan?” Felix was watching, confusion arching his brows. “Are you alright?” 

Chan shook his head in response. “Come on, we need to hurry.”

It was ten minutes until the train left when, at last, Felix spotted you over the crowd. Chan hung back, a murky gray cloud of dread hanging over his head as Felix said his goodbyes, insisting you call him and visit. Your smile, for some reason, seemed sadder today- especially when it was directed at Chan. He took a deep breath while Felix waited a distance away, and approached you.

It only took your eyes finding his own for the lump to swell in his throat and his eyes to burn as he tried to figure out what to say. Gosh, it had never been this difficult to say farewell. 

“Chan-” You gently lifted Chan’s face with your left palm, making him face you. He saw you smile through the blurriness of sudden tears, biting his lip as he desperately tried to halt them. But all he could think about was how unfair this was, and how much he’d missed you. Because he always did, and it hurt more each time he said goodbye.

“Chan?”

“Hmm?” He managed, swallowing roughly. “Y/n?”

You hesitated for a moment, before taking his hand with your free one. “I’m sorry.” You whispered. “I am. I don’t know, I just… I mean, you’re just perfect…”

“Just not for you, huh?” Chan murmured, clutching your hand like a tight grip could prevent your inevitable departure. Like your grip on his heart could somehow keep you together.

This time you bowed your head, and Chan thought he saw a tiny splinter- a crack in your gaze- before you looked back at him again. “Yeah. I guess so.”

Why not?

He hugged you tightly, afraid of letting go. You had the sense to do so first.

No tearful goodbye; it never was that way with you. Just a forlorn smile and a wave of your hand through the window before you were gone.

But you would come back, Chan assured himself, because you always did. Like the cycle of the seasons, you would return to him soon enough.

But you didn’t this time. You didn’t come back.

Weeks dissolved into months, and months turned into a year. His hope slowly faded into worry and distress at your disappearance, and then a solemn acceptance. That goodbye had been your last; even more he knew it in his heart that you didn’t intend to return.

In hindsight, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it coming. And he blamed himself for it, despite Felix’s assurance that it wasn’t his fault. After all, if he hadn’t pressured you to stay, maybe you’d continue to come and go as you always had. It had been his careless advances that had chased you away, and he’d been foolish to wish for you to remain within arms reach. It would have hurt for you to never find content in staying with him- but he swore it hurt a thousand times more to think that he might never see you again.

He wondered, though, if he could have borne it. Seeing you for brief pockets of time, all while knowing you would leave him again eventually. He tried to imagine it; find a scenario where both of you could be happy and be together. But… how?

Maybe it was for the best, then. If he couldn’t make you happy, it was selfish for him to expect anything from you.

Still… he missed you.

God, he missed you.

It was over two years before he heard anything from you. A mutual friend, Jisung, had run into you in Orlando. The meetup had been quickly relayed to Chan, who jumped at any information of your well-being. And as it turned out, you were doing well. Free and tied down to nothing, you were doing what you loved- exploring the world, finding your next adventure in the great unknown.

And Chan knew that it was the right path for you- even if it hurt to admit. And even if it was hard to be happy for you when he couldn’t seem to let you go himself.

Because everywhere he went, he saw you. Saw what you were, and what you might have been. You lived in his head now that you weren’t here, and he wondered if you would always stay there as his biggest what if? Even more, he wondered if you ever thought about him too.

Chan thought of you for the umpteenth time that week as he stood in a heavy drizzle, an umbrella keeping his body dry as he waited for his bus. Evening was approaching quickly, the sky darkening at an alarming rate. Brightly coloured leaves were tossed in the wind, skittering over the wet pavement. Chan stood perfectly still, listening to the steady rhythm of the rain. Pitter patter. Pitter patter.

Eventually he let his umbrella fall back; his eyes turned to the sky before closing as the first droplets of rain fell onto his face. He inhaled deeply, the rich smell of the damp leaves making him smile- even if a little wistfully.

The rain felt a little colder this year, didn't it?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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[ashonheavenscloud]

Going Rangers Behind

#favourite goofballs

[ashonheavenscloud]

oh my godddd this made me so emotional but it was so comforting and warm :(((( i loved this.

table for two | lsm

seokmin thinks recovery looks beautiful on you.

pairing: lee seokmin x reader au: established relationship, slice of life genre: fluff, hurt/comfort (sort of?) type: drabble | 860 words rating: pg-13 — minors still do not have my consent to interact. content: gn!reader; reader’s physical appearance is not described in any way; seokmin is the best of all boys; food/beer mention + consumption; seokmin’s pov. tw: reader is referenced to be in recovery (implied to be for an unnamed eating disorder) ! there are no depictions of disordered eating; however, seokmin thinks about things reader no longer does ! specifically, this references the absence of past distraction tactics (pushing food around plate, picking up a bite and setting it back down during conversation) ! seokmin notes that reader sits with him for over an hour after eating, rather than disappearing (reference to implied history of purging) ! a/n: this is deeply, deeply, deeply personal. i wrote this because i need comfort; and i am posting it publicly in case it can be source of comfort for someone else. it is based on my personal experience and may not be reflective of any other person’s experience. please review the tw’s and skip this drabble if you believe any part of this will make you uncomfortable or unsafe. if you are based in the u.s., this website has resources that may be helpful for you. multi permanent taglist. seventeen permanent taglist.

Seokmin is at the stove with a wooden spatula in hand when he feels your arms slither around his waist. The warmth of your cheek presses into the space between his shoulder blades, just like the tiny, contented sigh you breathe out. Without the sizzling pan in front of him, he might’ve given into the urge to go boneless; to melt into your hold, like marshmallow over a campfire.

Gooey may not be glamorous, but it’s the best way to describe how he feels around you.

“What are you making?” You mumble from behind him, curiosity evident despite how muffled your words are

He bites his lips to keep from grinning. Really, he doesn’t want to make it a big deal, but it is. This might be the first time you’ve ever asked him that question with interest, rather than carefully-cloaked dread. The first time you sound genuinely eager.

If his heart gets any warmer, it’ll burn his —

“Dakgalbi!” And even though you can’t see him do it, Seokmin wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis as he lilts, “With a special ingredient.”

You pull your cheek from its resting place, thankfully without removing your arms. He cranes his neck to meet your eyes over his shoulder just in time for you to snort, “Love?”

Well…

Honestly, it’s no surprise that you catch his cheesy joke before he can properly drop it. He’s cast this line at you a million times before — and that’s a conservative estimate. 

Seokmin paints on an exaggerated frown, blinking his wide fake-offended eyes back at you. “My halmoni’s kimchi,” he says through a pout.

You nod appreciatively, then you kiss the pout right off his face, leaving Seokmin to wonder if you’re really talking about fermented cabbage when you sigh, “The best there is.”

The distraction you create is more than welcome, but the dish he’s neglecting starts sputtering in an ominous way that demands immediate attention. Reluctantly, he turns back around to stir. Even more reluctantly, you withdraw your arms from him; your soft footsteps pad off somewhere he can’t see.

Then, he hears a cabinet open.

Then, the distinct clink of two bowls being lifted from the shelf.

Two bowls, Seokmin notes, and he’s unable to fight off a grin this time.

Once the chicken and sweet potatoes are thoroughly cooked, you reappear at his side with two bowls at the ready. Two portions are doled out carefully to avoid spilling any sauce on the counter, then two pairs of chopsticks replace the wooden spatula in his hand.

You sit together at your small kitchen table, and it feels natural now, like this is something you’ve always done. It’s not; it’s a recent development, but there’s an ease to it all now that wasn’t there before.

Seokmin’s instincts tell him to be cool about it. To not stare lovingly at you, as much as he may want to, because that spot-lighted attention would freak him out, too. But even without watching outright, he notices the thousand little hard-fought changes.

When you pick up a large bite of chicken between your chopsticks, you don’t distract with a question or joke just to set the bite back down, undetected. You chew that bite, making some thoroughly delighted sound, and then you take another one.

You don’t push the food around in your bowl, either, but eat your fill from it. Once you do, you don’t disappear. Instead, you stay put, laughing through the rest of the hour while Seokmin eats his first and second servings. You’re present, accounted for, and best of all, happy to be here.

This isn’t the first meal you’ve spent like this — Seokmin trusts implicitly that it won’t be the last — and yet he still feels pride bubble up in his chest in a way that makes his tear ducts tingle. Again, he reminds himself to be cool about it. He clears his throat, as if it’s the gochugaru affecting him and not his admiration for you, and he takes a sip of the beer you decided pairs best with the stir-fry.

Licking the excess foam from his lips, Seokmin sets his glass down and looks up at you. The echoing sip you take is earnest, rather than performative, and it’s followed by a sigh that sounds relieved.

“I love you, you know,” he states plainly.

I’m so fucking proud of you, he implies.

“I know.” You shrug, then the nonchalance gives way to a giggle. Your shoulder knocks gently into his before you lean closer and rest your head there. “Ditto.”

Seokmin rests his cheek against the top of your head. His eyes flutter shut in the comfortable silence that follows, too full and content to even think of doing dishes.

After spending a few minutes that way, you speak again — softly, because you know he startles easily: “It’s supposed to rain tomorrow.”

“Oh?” He asks without a clue where this train of thought is heading.

“Perfect pajeon weather. We should make some, don’t you think?”

What Seokmin thinks is that recovery looks beautiful on you.

Nodding minimally to avoid shaking your head along with his, he agrees, beaming all the while. “Perfect indeed.”

#as someone who’s been there… this felt healing :( #thank you for writing this author <3

[ashonheavenscloud]

heads up! food mentions + mentions of being engaged/marriage in future

when mingyu's name pops up on your phone, you aren't surprised int he slightest. you know your fiance well enough to know that he's about to complain, too: its your day off. you shouldn't be getting up early to dote on him, even though its his day. so you swipe a finger across the screen and continue to cook your own lunch.

"happy birthday--"

"you peeled the eggs..." oh, how you can hear how hard he's pouting at you right now. "honey, you didn't have to..."

you snort, not even bothering to fight back a smile. you're alone (save for the puppy that keeps pressing her little cold nose against your ankles every so often), you don't have to hide how amused your pouty boyfriend makes you. "it's your birthday," you say, "i had to."

"the entire lunch is cute, though!" you have to wonder if he's complaining at his desk or if he stepped out. it's not like his coworkers don't know how pouty he gets when it comes to you spoiling him (the same way they know you're the same way when he spoils you). he sighs a moment later, settling into a comfortable sense of bliss. "you're too sweet to me..."

"mingyu, you literally whipped up something far fancier for my birthday." you catch yourself pouting. "did you see my note?"

"of course i saw your note!" you nearly laugh this time. this man is definitely pouting still, and you think you heard wonwoo's deep chuckle. "it was cute, too..."

you hear him moving, though, and the sound of a door opening and closing a moment later.

"i'm still going out with the guys after work, but..."

"but?" you're smiling.

a quiet groan. "do i have to say it? it feels mean to say it." when you don't respond, he sighs. "i wish i was coming home to you."

all you can do is snort in laughter. how cute. tall and handsome as he is, he's still the sweetest man you've ever been with. "i'll still be here later," you say. "happy birthday, my mingyu."

he's quiet for a minute. "can you say what you wrote down?" you can only imagine how those pretty eyes would be twinkling at you right now, that handsome smile... "please?"

you smile to yourself, and straighten up. "happy birthday, my soon-to-be husband. i can't wait to marry you."

he lets out this blissful sigh, and you hear the sound of him hitting the wall with his back or shoulder--nothing too hard, but enough to tell you that you've made him weak in the knees. "i love you," he says after a moment. "i can't wait to marry you, too."

#im sick to my stomach omg #SAVE MEEEEEE

[ashonheavenscloud]

people i’d like to know better:

aww this is cute! @lixiesfreckless your obsessions lists is so real SHHSHD

LAST SONG: hug - seventeen

FAVOURITE COLOUR: purple, literally any shade it’s soooo pretty😭 and black <33

CURRENTLY WATCHING: seventeen’s in the soop with @lixiesfreckless 🥰 and my demon!

SWEET/SPICY/SAVORY: i LOVEEEEE spicy food <333

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: singleeeee

CURRENT OBSESSION: the boyz (*cough* eric and jacob *cough*), toast with raspberry jam <33 i.m’s new album, mon amour by gemini, joshua’s current hair (BROWN CURLS RAAHHHH)

no-pressure tags:

@onlyhuis @sluttywoozi @cheollipop @starsstuddedsky @shuaflix @sluttyminghao

nine people i'd like to know better

thank you so much for the tag, mana! @hanjsquokka

LAST SONG : Trigger - Hayley Williams

FAVORITE COLOR : any shade of green but particularly mint and a hunter/olive

CURRENTLY WATCHING : Physical 100 with my partner lol and Apartment 404

SWEET/SPICY/SAVORY : Sweet AND Savory. Loooove that combo ehehe but im trying to cut down on the salt in take... i wish i were better with spicy foods :((

RELATIONSHIP STATUS : taken

CURRENT OBSESSION : stray kids except that's a forever obsession :P I've been getting into p1harmony lately and i've been playing a lot of final fantasy vii remake.

no pressure tags : @weareapackofstrays @ashxxgyu @sunnyhonie @greyyeti @primoppang @jiminskies; if you see this, feel free to tag me in it so that i can see it

#tag games 👾

[ashonheavenscloud]

AHHHHHH😭😭😭 this is so sweet of you to say?? i’m so glad i could convey the nervous feeling of firsts, thank you so much for reading and leaving these lovely comments🥺

overthinking || h. hyunjin

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ contents: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader, friends to lovers, fluff with tension tension tension, mutual obsession!! reader makes hyunjin very very nervous

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ word count: 1.7K

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ warnings: none

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n: short lil hyunjin repost!! this was well loved before, so hopefully it’s still up to par <3 enjoyyy~

now playing - overthinking - offonoff

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Hyunjin knew he was overthinking it.

Your hand gently gripped his own, fitting there perfectly like a glove. Your eyes were glued to the screen in front of you, a tender moment from your latest favourite K-drama distracting you from the very thing that Hyunjin couldn’t for the life of him stop thinking about. 

Your hand was so much smaller than his. Your nails were freshly painted lilac, and he couldn’t stop staring at the small details of your hand as the drama continued on. You’d suddenly clutched his hand when the girl on screen had started to cry, the male lead attempting to comfort her in the most gentle manner. Hyunjin wasn’t sure what had happened next; as soon as you’d grabbed his hand, the words muffled and his eyes shifted and his very skin felt on fire, sparks shooting through him from where you touched. He couldn’t stop staring at you, the way you looked in the dim light, eyes filled with the screen’s reflection, mouth slightly parted as you watched with extreme focus.

He’d waited for you to let go. Surely once the initial shock of the scene wore off, you would realize and pull away. But as the minutes stretched on, and more scenes unfolded on the TV, your hand remained firmly in his. 

He loved how your hand felt in his.

Still, he almost wished you would pull away. His heart was hammering with dangerous volume, and he could feel the heat crawling over the back of his neck as his eyes continued to drink you in. His palms were growing sweaty, and he swore that soon the rest of him would be unbearably hot. He kicked off the blanket around him, praying it would help. Cool air greeted him, and so did your puzzled eyes, glancing away from the screen momentarily to look at Hyunjin.

“You okay?”

No. I want to pin you to this very couch and kiss you senseless. “Yeah, fine. Just hot.” He managed, desperately hoping that you would finally release his hand before he snapped. Instead, your eyes trailed to your fingers twisted together, and looked back to the screen.

And Hyunjin was back to looking at your hands moulded together, wondering why you hadn’t pulled away.

Surely he was overthinking. It was just your hand, after all. You’d been friends for years, and your love of skinship had always been obviously shown. So why did today feel different? Why did this simple touch send him spiraling, mind racing to figure out what the hell you wanted with him??

He’d tried for months to understand your feelings for him. Scrutinizing every little thing-shoulder taps and smiles, light conversation and sparkling eyes-to figure it out. Did you also find yourself distracted by his smile, the way he suddenly forgot what he was going to say when you smiled at him? Did you also get lost in his eyes, the way he was content to swim in yours for endless hours, day and night? And did you also wish you had the courage to say something about it, just like Hyunjin did when he looked up from your hands intertwined to find your eyes focused on him?

And words were gone. Just scattered fragments of worry and panic and desire and hope. He knew what he wanted. And he was hanging on a thread, a thread that was fraying and ready to snap at any moment. At any moment.

The soulful music of the drama flitted from the screen, slow and soft but Hyunjin could hardly hear it as you lifted your joined hands to where both of you could see them. Hyunjin felt his heart leap, as your eyes trailed back to him. You allowed both of your hands to drop down again, and whispered something that set every part of Hyunjin to flame.

“Just kiss me or something.”

Silence for a beat as the words processed, Hyunjin’s heart jolting into hummingbird mode. And then he was slowly pulling you to him, lips capturing yours roughly. You tasted faintly of the sweet chocolate you’d been eating together a minute ago, and Hyunjin couldn’t help himself from slowly biting your bottom lip, pulling gently as you gripped his shirt tightly in fists, bringing him closer to your warmth. The TV drama faded away, the music growing dim as Hyunjin’s mind flew into a frenzy, thoughts and worries bombarding his mind as he kissed you. You had hundreds of butterflies gathering in the pit of his stomach, and his heart pounding like a drum beat, setting a rhythm, a tempo for how he moved his mouth over yours, tongue slipping into your mouth to further taste you, you, you.

A voice was screaming in the back of his head: am I doing this right? Are you enjoying this as much as me? What if I’m not good enough? What if you’re uncomfortable, or-

You were moving closer and he wished he knew what to do with his hands, and his legs folded on the couch. Your hand had dropped his own at some point, fingers pressing over his jawline. The other hand gripped his shoulder, as you moved even closer-practically on his lap, and Hyunjin wished he knew what to do about that too.

He was overthinking, he knew. Every touch of yours, the firm pressure of your digits tracing his skin, the feel of your warm lips moving against his-moving with his. He let it all happen, even while hardly knowing what he was doing. He swore he had been set on fire, his very nerves roaring ablaze with energy and a hunger that was almost overwhelming. Still he couldn’t stop thinking.

He pulled back, immediately hating the inches of space between your lips while simultaneously wishing to move farther from you and the temptation it was to dive back in.

He was terrified.

“Hyunjin…” you sounded slightly breathless, and confused. Your eyes opened and found his, searching the dark pools for some hint of a problem. “What’s wrong?”

He wanted to tell you everything running through his head, but with your eyes watching his now, his mouth refused to open. A hollow pit formed in his stomach of deep disappointment in himself. What was the matter with him? Why didn’t he just let go and take this step? He’d wanted this for ages-the opportunity to feel your body against his, held in his arms, mouths locked together in a heated embrace. And he’d loved the feeling just now; so what was the problem?

You were watching him, concerns filling your wide eyes. Despite his running thoughts, he found himself admiring you just like he always did. Your sweetness, your care for him. It was so endearing to see you worry, to feel your hand squeeze his in an attempt to keep him grounded and remind him of your presence. Suddenly he knew why he couldn’t stop worrying.

“I just want to love you right.” He confessed softly, gaze finally focusing on your eyes. He found warmth there, and even more as you slowly smiled, and he could see the adoration in your eyes. His heart leaped, treasuring the fact that you were looking at him like that. He hurried on, “I want you to be comfortable. I want-” he took a breath in, as you patiently waited for him to finish. “I want to do this right, you know?”

This was unmarked territory for him-for you too, he knew. He wondered if you felt the same kind of nerves, too.

“I know.” You confirmed, a small smile gracing your face, as you lifted your fingers to touch his cheek gently. “Me too.”

Adoration shone in your eyes so clearly in that moment that it left Hyunjin slightly breathless. The soft crinkles by the corners of your eyes caught his gaze and he felt some tension release from his body. You were nervous too-and somehow that made him feel less so.

“I’ve liked you forever.” Hyunjin blurted, feeling himself blush as the words left his mouth, and your smile widened. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

Your smile was so pretty. He loved how he could immediately tell how genuine that smile was. You meant every word when you said, “I know you won’t. Just take it slow. It’ll be okay.”

Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile back, even though his heart still raced. But if you believed in him-in both of you-surely he could believe in the two of you as well.

He squeezed your hand, dipping his head to lightly kiss your lips, lingering for a moment before pulling back. “Okay.” He whispered.

He loved the dazed gaze of your eyes, loved the fact that he had that effect on you. 

“Okay?” You murmured back. 

His only response was to kiss you again, harder this time, mind a flurry of thoughts and emotions that grew hazy when you kissed him back. It was just as addicting as before, despite the worries coming back. Your fingers traced the skin of his collarbone, automatically making him shiver, and he wondered what he should do now.

And here the answer was so painfully clear in that moment that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t considered it before. Don’t think, Hyunjin. Just feel.

He breathed in your scent as he pulled back to look at your face-every beautiful detail he’d memorized with his eyes-before setting to work memorizing them with his mouth, lips pressing against the soft skin of your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids that flickered at his gentle touch. Slowly he let go of the worries, banishing them as he took your face in his hands and pulled you right to him, connecting your lips again. A muffled sigh of content escaped the corners of your mouth, roiling inside Hyunjin with an insane kind of pleasure. He grew slowly more confident, letting his tongue slide into your mouth again and pressing your back to the couch, just like he’d wanted. He felt your hands grip his shirt, press to his chest; he felt your body beneath his own, its warmth under his skin. He felt your mouth move with his, felt your smooth hair with his fingers, felt every inch of you without any more thoughts to intrude.

He let desire flood his body and take over his senses as he took his time loving you; slowly, surely, sweetly.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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#lovely readers <3 #✍🏻: h. hyunjin: overthinking

[ashonheavenscloud]

author i’d just like you to know i come back to this every couple weeks to reread… genuinely one of my favourites fics i’ve ever read. you were insane for this

can't get you out of my head

member | fwb!vernon x f reader genre | smut, like a little tiny bit of angst? with a happy ending word count | 2.4k synopsis | so what if calling your fuck buddy every other day is a little excessive? maybe you're just in love with him. smut warnings | descriptions of female anatomy, lots and lots of kissing, some dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, begging, creampie warnings | vernon is called hansol - i don't usually do that but just go with it; vernon is kind of a sweetheart tbh this ended up being pretty soft notes | june is back !! i've really been struggling to write these past few months so i'm actually super proud that i was able to sit down and write this as fast as i did. i can't promise another fic anytime soon or any kind of consistent uploads, but i hope you enjoy this meager offering! thanks for the support even while i've been gone :) also this is based on a dream i had about vernon the other day and i could not stop thinking about it it was driving me crazy, so everyone say thank you to my brain or the sandman or whoever put that idea in my dreams because this fic is a result of it. if there are mistakes pls ignore i wrote this at 2am

the thing you remember most about hansol is his lips.

the first time you kissed him was like opening a door to a world you'd never known existed. your past hookups had been terrible kissers, or even worse—hadn't even tried to kiss you at all. you were sick of the boring, underwhelming sex with men who couldn't care less if you got off or not. but some god or being in the universe must've been looking out for you, because finding hansol was nothing short of a miracle.

it was so good, you weren't even that embarrassed when you'd desperately texted him a couple of nights later, practically begging him to come over and fuck you again. he was burned into your brain, the feeling of his mouth locked with yours seared so deep in your memory you couldn't erase him if you tried, but it wasn't exactly like you wanted to. 

he hadn't explicitly said you would only be a one night stand, but you usually didn't hang around the same guy for too long, and he didn't really seem like the commitment type anyway. but when you find something this good, you don't let it go, and somehow you both knew that whatever this was, it was too good to pass up on.

so it wasn't really a surprise when you found yourself on his couch, straddling his lap in the late hours of the night for the third time this week. 

like you remembered, his lips were warm and soft, his cheek brushing against yours as you melted into him. you could kiss him for hours and not notice the time passing at all, so focused on the rhythm of his mouth working you up more than anything you'd done with any man you'd slept with before.

the heat of his hands resting on your hips sends shivers up and down your spine, unconsciously arching towards him as his tongue pushes into your mouth.

one gentle hand travels carefully up beneath your shirt, tracing the skin of your stomach before stopping at your breast, your heartbeat racing beneath his palm.

your breath is hot on his cheek as you readjust your position, slipping your knees onto either side of his hips and sinking down to straddle his lap. your clothed cunt throbs as he presses his bulge against the inside of your thigh, and you don't hold back the open-mouthed moan that escapes you as his other hand quickly reaches up to angle your jaw and guide your lips back to his.

you push your hips down a little harder on him and his nails dig into your breast. his grip tightens a little as his hips cant up against you, desperate for more pressure against his strained cock.

your eyelids flutter as his other hand tilts your chin upwards, finally breaking away from your mouth only to reattach his lips at the base of your jaw. his tongue laves over your skin before he starts to suck, and you shiver when he pulls back and cold air hits the wet patch of spit on your neck.

you have to focus hard not to drool when you open your eyes and catch a glimpse of his face, lust-glazed eyes staring up at you through his long, thick lashes, his intense gaze fixed on you.

if you ever get past this weird in-between stage of talking but not talking, maybe you'll tell him how jealous you are of his beautiful, natural eyelashes. if you ever actually get to have a conversation with him outside of calling to hook up, maybe you'll tell him how nice his lips are. you'll tell him how soft his hands are and how he's by far the best person you've ever slept with, leaps and bounds better than all the rest, and—

before you fully realize what's happening, you feel your shirt being pulled over your head and hansol's lips have made their way down to your chest. without a sound his hands roam your body, fingers drawing invisible lines over your bare skin and leaving trails of goosebumps with every touch.

he doesn't talk much during sex, or maybe you just don't know each other well enough yet for him to have much to say. aside from the way he occasionally murmurs about how perfect you are — an oddly intimate thing to say to someone who's just a friend with benefits, but coming from him it sounds so casual — the only words you ever get out of him are curses and whimpered pleas.

the only words he ever gets out of you are shamelessly begging him, please kiss me again, please, hansol; and you're always too far gone to care about how whiny you sound, because you need his lips on you so fucking bad you think you might just die without them. but he always obliges, quickening the speed of his thrusts and wrapping his arms around you tighter so he can kiss you deeper, until your lips are numb and you can still feel the weight of him holding you even hours after he's gone.

so maybe you do have a teeny tiny crush on hansol. anyone in their right mind would, and when he's finished with you tonight you're sure you won't have much mind left to even think about it. certainly this is a problem for another day, a day when you'll inevitably call him again so he can make you lose your mind all over again and you won't have to think about how much you like him, and you'll continue like that for who knows how long. 

maybe he'll get bored of you, or find someone else, or move to another city too far for you to justify travelling for a relationship that isn't even a relationship…

… but then he lets out a little groan and you fall back into reality, the reality where you've been making out with him for the past half hour and he quietly but confidently lets you know if he doesn't get his dick out soon he's definitely going to cum in his pants and not only will it make him look like a loser but he also won't get to fuck you, which is the whole reason you asked him to meet up tonight, right?

well, yeah, you guess, but a part of you knows there's more to it than that. but that's not really a conversation for right now.

you lean down to press another chaste kiss against those lips that you can't stop thinking about, and your fingers pull his t-shirt over his head before finding their way down to the button at the top of his jeans.

you've had his cock inside you more times than you think you deserve, but still your stomach bubbles with excitement as he lifts his hips and shimmies out of his pants, the outline against his briefs more than enough to make your mouth water before he slips those off, too.

for tonight, you're the recipient of his undivided attention. you alone get to have him and his perfect cock all to yourself; maybe not forever, but for right now, and that's all you really need.

he presses his hand against his bulge, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you stand up from his lap to kick off your pants and underwear.

you must have been taking too long for his liking, though, because as soon as you're fully nude his hands tug impatiently at your waist and pull you back down onto him. 

he lets out a heavy sigh, the head of his cock pressed deliciously against your clit as you start to rock your hips back and forth.

but before long his hands bring you to a stop and he lets out his usual string of pleas to let him fuck you, and now it's your turn to sigh in relief as he pushes into you, the stretch so natural like he was the only one who was made to sit you on his lap.

he doesn't move right away. he never moves right away, whether to give you a chance to adjust or maybe because he himself can't handle the feeling. either way, you always struggle to take in a shaky breath as your walls flutter around him, perfectly thick and long that you could probably cum untouched like this if you sat there for long enough.

but as badly as you want to never move and let him cockwarm you for hours, he always eventually moves. 

he starts out slow, just a few inches at a time, a gentle in and out that's almost romantic until you feel like you can breathe normally again— right before he knocks the breath out of you, increasing his pace until the room is filled with the loud sounds of skin against skin.

he always fucks you like it's been months since he's came, even though you know for a fact it was last thursday and all over your stomach. all you can do now is hang onto his broad shoulders for dear life, nails scratching helplessly at his muscles as he carries you up and over the edge, pushing you into the first of many orgasms tonight.

sometimes he'll make a comment about how wet you get when he fucks you like this, rough and fast as he pounds into you like there's no tomorrow. and that's when you'll agree, yes you love it so much, yes he's so good, yes you need more and please, please keep going.

if it were anyone else they'd probably smirk at that, satisfied with the momentary boost to their ego. but that's what you love about hansol, is that he's not anyone else: he'll take those words and use them to somehow fuck you even rougher and even faster, so rough and so fast that sometimes tears will start to roll down your cheeks, and that's usually about when you start begging him to kiss you.

you can't help it. the way he bounces you so effortlessly on his cock, his lips parted and beads of sweat trickling down his neck, you need him bad. you want to be closer to him, closer than you know is physically possible but damn if you won't try anyway.

throwing your hands around his neck and falling against his chest, tears still streaming from your eyes as you plead with him, repeating his name over and over and over like you've lost your mind and he's the only thing left. in all honesty, maybe he is.

he quietly shushes you and tilts his chin up to capture your lips in the kiss you so badly crave, and it's everything you need and more and somehow still not enough but you can't think straight anymore when his cock is hitting you just right and his mouth is also just right and each vein, each curve, each ridge, drags perfectly along your walls and he's splitting you open and goddamn you are ruined for anybody else.

you feel like you're skirting in and out of consciousness when you cum again, squeezing around his cock so tight that even his powerful thrusts can't continue at their current pace.

it isn't long before he lets go too, holding you flush against his body as he fills you up, painting your insides white with a breathy moan, and in a weird way it makes you feel kind of proud.

you both sit there for a moment, panting as you start to come down.

without even standing up you already know your legs are jell-o, but you don't really have time to think about that as hansol lifts you off his lap and sets you carefully on the couch, leaving you with another kiss before he stands up and disappears down the hall, returning seconds later with a towel that looks suspiciously new.

you'd asked him about his bathroom towels last time you'd been over at his place. a mismatched collection of white and brown and aquamarine that he'd taken with him when he'd moved out of his parent's house, he said, he'd never really had a reason to buy a set of his own. 

the grey cloth in his hand now that he uses to gently wipe between your legs is one you don't remember seeing.

he finishes and you want him to kiss you again, but you're too shy to ask now so he leaves you again with just a kind smile this time.

you've put most of your wrinkled clothes back on by the time he comes back. he offers to drive you home every time afterwards, but you always insisted you were fine, already feeling like you'd overstayed your welcome.

this time he doesn't offer, though, just quietly sits down next to you to pull on his own clothes until you're both fully dressed.

he speaks before the awkward silence has time to set in.

"have you been seeing anybody else?" he asks, and it's probably the longest sentence he's spoken to you outside of when he's fucking you.

it takes you a couple seconds to say no. god, you sound like a loser, but you couldn't lie to him. since the very first time with hansol the thought of seeing anyone besides him hadn't even crossed your mind. just like you thought; ruined.

it takes him a couple seconds to reply, too. 

"good," he says, and you could almost swear his cheeks are pinker than usual as he admits that he hasn't been with anyone, either. "could we keep it that way?"

your breath catches a little. "yeah?"

"yeah," he answers. "whatever… this is, i like it. and i like you."

and just like that, things make sense. 

"maybe, would you, y'know, wanna stay this time?" he asks, and you can't hide the grin on your face as you lean over and kiss him again, your answer evident in the way your hand falls against his warm chest and your fingers weave gently through his hair.

everything is so simple with hansol.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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#i literally never stop thinking about this #your characterization of vernon is nothing short of perfect. your writing prose and cadence is DELICIOUS #bless you for writing and sharing this😭