#and also how my scholarship would fit into that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dropsofletters · 29 days

Text

i feel like i know you [jww]

SUMMARY: sometimes, we meet a person, a complete stranger in the streets, and we feel as though we have seen them somewhere else. a sense of familiarity that comes with longing and extreme love. however, it could only be one of those cases of deja-vu…if one does not think that there are other universes, roaming around its axis at the same time that we do.

jeon wonwoo doesn’t believe in the concept of soulmates, but somehow, he always has the same one in various universes.

maybe, destiny does exist.

TITLE: i feel like i know you

PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x reader

GENRE: soulmates!au ; soulmates in different universes!au ; friends to lovers!au ; unrequited love!au ; forbidden love!au ; childhood friends!au and wonwoo finding his way back to oc again and again.

WORD COUNT: 8,000 words approx.

TYPE: fluffy fluff ; fantasy ; alternative universes ; angst if you squint

NOTE: this was a ko-fi request! you can go over there if you want to request something from me.

UNIVERSE 01: friendship.

A pendant sits on the palm of her hand.

It dangles in between his fingertips; tips colored by Kool-Aid, burning red. The music is a little too loud in the cramped room, where the strands of his bleached hair merge in between the black, original ones. Wonwoo sits neatly, though his image is copied out of one of those magazines that he reads over every once in a while when at his job at the mall.

Maybe, this is where her friend met the supposed old lady that taught him the future was written in one’s palm. He’s a man of science, though he masks it as not. Books and articles highlighted on his bookshelves, casted in dust as he reaches his twenty-five years of age and he realizes that, perhaps, in the midst and wits of time he never truly reached what he wanted. No scholarship. No travelling. Nothing other than sitting at his small apartment, dangling a necklace, hoping for a sign.

“What do you want to know?” Wonwoo always speaks like he has a secret, eyes squinted, voice a rumble of depth. His vision, however, is settled on the pendant that only moves the slightest, from side to side, venturing into the unknown of what it is supposed to tell her.

Life, on the other hand, is a little bit more secure for her. She didn’t imagine her life to be big, and hence, settling seemed nice. Three years into a relationship that started out in college; a college degree that also sits on her bookshelf, waiting for it to mean something than it actually is, and work. Work has been hectic, with coffee breaks towards the coffee shop in which Wonwoo works at with a scowl to his face and a purse of his lips.

“The unknown.” She jokes, hand trembling a bit as Wonwoo rests it on his thigh.

His eyes roll, the sclerotic becoming a bit apparent, before he returns his gaze to her. For Wonwoo, the world is serious; like the heat of the Americano she has each day, and the routine of making perfect coffee. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” She looks back at Wonwoo. This is the man that would nod at every single one of her words when battling her fear of speaking in public back in high school. Her friend. The reason as to why she gets to speak now in her corporate job for some fashion magazine. She knows him far too well, dances with his eyes and knows how to sit him down with simple syllables. “You don’t believe in any of this.”

“I’d like to grant myself the benefit of doubting my beliefs.” He explains. The nineties are far more technological, fitted for someone like him, with up-and-coming laptops and websites. He could have been so much more, but it feels these days like he’s losing himself to a trail of nothingness. “They haven’t exactly worked to my favor the past few years, so what do I lose by giving you an answer to something? Shit, maybe, I could get an answer, too.”

She grabs his hand, pendant digging to the skin of her palm, engraving the thunder that Wonwoo had bought on a convenience store nearby. It was probably on sale, too. “You don’t need answers, Wonwoo. What’s not lost should not be hunted down.”

His eyes soften. Mirrors in shades of brown, like a lake house that she could never escape. Here, listening to Backstreet Boys, trying to hide from the reality that they are not kids anymore, is the man she trusts the most. The one person she cherishes more than life itself. For, Wonwoo was there for her to lighten up her days, even when the exposure of sunshine would hurt him, too.

“…Let me just answer one question of yours.”

“What for, though—?”

“Just to prove to myself that I’m not the only one that doesn’t have it figured out.”

She sighs, opening her palm once again and closing her eyes tightly. She imagines all that has happened throughout the years of her living on this earth. She has a job that she likes. She has gone through college safely, thankfully. She has a relationship but…these days, it feels like he doesn’t foresee a future. Nick, her boyfriend of three years, goes on and on about his plans in the future, but it never includes her. A shush coming after his words when she ever-so asks…

Would you ever want to marry me?

“The first letter of the love of my life’s name.” She spurts out, knowing that the universe will be unable to ever grant her a benefit of knowing, let alone draw it on her palm with a pendant. Wonwoo doesn’t raise his eyebrows, never judging out loud, but speaking under his breath.

“Totally not the asshole you have for a boyfriend.”

“Wonwoo, have some respect and concentrate.”

“I’m just being honest.” He shrugs, sending a tight-lipped smile her way before he’s tracing her palm with the pendant and letting it hang. The woman at his job told him that it would trace two answers; a circle was a yes, a line was a no, and what she was asking…they’d see if it could get answered.

Much to his surprise, they hold their breaths, looking at the pendant before it starts moving. Almost like magic, like the world has things that we will never understand to its full complexity, the necklace starts moving its pendant until it draws a shape. Repetitive not, perhaps a little bit two quick, but the two folds of the ‘W’ are apparent. Her eyes trail forward, widened in complexion, before laughter spurts out of her lips.

“This shit is crazy.” Wonwoo’s cheeks are tinged pink, standing up and clasping the necklace in between his digits.

“Totally. Uh, where the hell did you even learn this?”

“Remind me to never trust people from work again.” Wonwoo’s back is turned towards her, saving the necklace on the coffee table, and she thinks about it for a moment…

Wonwoo and her together…

Pfft, as if that could ever happen.

“Noted. This will never happen again—”

“Yep. Want to get some burritos?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

The nineties had their own tagline, but ruining a friendship because of some stupid myth as the ear of technology was launching was totally not it.

###

UNIVERSE 02: opposites.

Wonwoo has always had an odd liking to coffee.

He presumptuously admits that he enjoys the taste on the roof of his mouth, and how it burns his palate and awakens him in the early mornings. Macchiato. Latte. Cold or hot. He enjoys them all. Hidden behind of strands of long hair, curled at the edges, and a pair of glasses so thick that they might as well hold all the eyes in the universe, he thinks it’s his own language. His way of speaking without actually opening his mouth. He grants happiness with a ‘good morning’ and a nod of his head, even though his coffee shop is not as big or as crowded as his family back home thinks.

A sigh leaves his lips, wiping the same spot he has worked on since the early morning. Only a client had passed by. A latte, decaffeinated, with two shots of vanilla and one of dark, moody chocolate. The busy man left without much of a glance at him, but the job was done. Hence, the day was uneventful, leaving him with pastries to sell and coffees to prepare. Aching to feel that this business is going somewhere.

He painted the walls green himself, thinking they’d match well with the plants his brother had gifted him after he moved to Jeju with his wife and worked on a gardening program over December. The tables, found in a trip to Scotland, did cost a little bit more than what he likes to admit, but it’s gloomy. Wholesome, like he wants it to be. A place that resembles the peace that comes with having a cup of coffee on a winter day.

It's summer.

Maybe, people just don’t want hot beverages.

The repetition of one of the first albums from The Beatles is cut off by the sound of a megaphone. Sharp and repetitive sentences shouted into the void of the street. People start to gather in front of his shop, but it’s not because of the coffee beans he brews every morning. There is someone else there—one of those hippies that he tries to stay away from.

Wonwoo pushes his hair away from his face, not even making the effort to clasp his beige apron off as he ventures to the entrance door and opens it with a swing. Standing on a small beer box is a woman; sporting a long floral skirt and a simple top that dangles off one shoulder. It reads ‘fuck politicians!’, loud and clear, like the sound of her voice as she asks for rights.

Rights to have some kind of reelection, for she thinks the government is corrupt.

“We are fucking marionettes to the politicians. Workers that will lose their nails clawing to get to the last bit of money they offer us. Not enough for us to eat and live freely—” She speaks into the megaphone, and he notices the soft hue of her lips and the crookedness of her hair. She’s not playing the part, but somehow, she looks quite beautiful in her messiness.

“Excuse me.” Wonwoo speaks softly, as per usual.

“Us women, we need to stay close, to protect the children of our lives. The people that need us the most. We are tired of staying silent—”

Though, she’s silencing him in the process. If this protest gets any heavier, he could even get jailed just because she wants to speak out…in front of a coffee shop. “Um, miss, excuse me, I have something to say—”

“Say it with me: ‘We shall not be silenced’!”

“Miss!” Just when she gives a moment for the crowd to speak, Wonwoo’s voice becomes loud. A shout into nothingness that brings color to his cheeks and a set of widened eyes that anyone could miss if they don’t look at him from up-close. She turns to him, still on that beer box, the wind blowing at her skirt and tracing the soft curves of her body. “This is my coffee shop…and—and I fear my clients would be scared of entering if they saw this protest in front of it. Could you please—?”

“What?” She questions, putting the megaphone down and raising her eyebrows. “This is something important.”

“Yeah! Totally. I know.” Wonwoo, though not a fan of politics, can understand that the economics are not the best these days. Hell, he fears that he will lose the business that he had worked so hard on. “How about this…I know that you planned this protest and that—”

“Just leave the fucking woman alone!” One of the protesters grits through his teeth, the others bursting in exclamations just like him.

“Yeah, fucking capitalist!”

“I could offer all of you coffee! And a place to talk. You buy me a cup, I let you have this whole…ordeal inside.” Wonwoo tries to smile, covered by the strands of his hair, but the wind whisks it away and she gets a good glimpse at him. The frown in between her eyebrows softens, mouth agape for a second before she brings the megaphone up to her lips again.

“We’re going inside! A small business needs us, everybody. We’re not getting out of this mess if we don’t make a change.”

Her hand lays on his shoulder, getting off the box and sending him a smile that blossoms one of his own on his face. It’s crazy how the world has millions of people, each more different than the last one, but there are still connections. Electricity that pulls two people together even with a mere touch, as he realizes just how gorgeous she is.

And so unlike him.

Such an impossibility.

He prepares her favorite coffee then. Sweeter than anything, with marshmallows on top, a caramel Macchiato that keeps her fed along with the guava pastry that she dared try. Speaking her mind away, he only sits and listens, knowing that this is the last time he’ll ever see her.

###

UNIVERSE 03: right person, wrong time.

He looks like the image of what his mother used to coo about every Christmas night when the eggnog got to her system.

Not a man of marriage, he used to say he was, when he was just fifteen years old and promising he could pull through with a relationship. At the time, his now bride-to-be Fae was the third wheel of the trio. The woman that would wipe her tears when everything got to be a little bit too much with him, and that would clasp Wonwoo’s hands in between her own and teach him how to be a better boyfriend. How to leave the faux interests of bad friends behind to build something beautiful.

That they built in just a few months of relationship, tainted and left as lukewarm friendship, got destroyed in just three months.

She’d dare say, however, as she lets the emerald green of her bridesmaid’s dress cascade down her back, knowing fairly well that the fabric fits her a little too snugly because she decided to bathe her stomach with alcohol just hours prior to this, that…Wonwoo was her first love. She had never loved as purely, harshly and truly. With rain falling down on them as they both cried their goodbyes, eager to make it work, but regretting forcing their friendship to be something more.

Now, he’s marrying Fae. They didn’t get together soon after they broke up. It took years, pulling away, falling apart as a trio, coming back together and Wonwoo and Fae being roommates during their senior year of law school for them to get in a relationship.

Though, the word has it that when a man is totally certain about a woman, things will fall into place quickly. He looked at Fae in the eyes quite like he does now, as she stands behind her. Fae has her soft peachy hair curled and tied at the top of her rounded face, lips opened in that heart-curling smile that shows all her teeth, imperfect and yet, so fucking gorgeous. She looks like she was taken out of a fairytale, glowing…and she should be happy with her friend.

Fuck, she is.

God, imagine how difficult it would be to explain to Heaven when she tried to knock on its doors at the end of her life that she was happy…but also a bit jealous that this wasn’t her.

Because once, when she was a teen, she thought she would be in this position. Standing in front of Wonwoo, eager to place her hands on his arms, tug him closer and press their lips together. Call it forever, because it sounds like it could be possible with him. And these are thoughts not to be having when at the altar with her two best friends, as his eyes get filled with tears when looking at Fae.

She wishes it was her.

Wonwoo does look her way at one moment, departing from his vision towards Fae and it’s almost like his shoulders fall. She knows, then, that he remembers the possibilities—what they once talked about when seated on the front-yard of his old house, through small pecks and giggles. They once said that they were ‘ride-or-die’, only to ride along the adventure that they tried.

She gives him a tight-lipped smile, raising the corners of her mouth, as if telling him that they have made it. The ‘happy-ever-after’ reached in different spectrums. Wonwoo smiles back, tracing the outline of his engagement ring, the one that will meet the new ring that will create, hopefully, a lifetime of happiness.

Not with her.

Of course, not with her.

And that doesn’t haunt her. It’s something that she wishes she could have told herself in the past, so she would have never placed herself in Wonwoo’s life that way, making his relationship with Fae easier and more factual from the beginning. However, now that she’s here, it brings nostalgia.

They were once kids, now he’s getting married.

There’s a baby waiting for him in Fae’s womb, that not many people in this church know about. If any, really.

That’s the magic of moving on, but at the same time, wondering why it wasn’t like how they wished for as kids.

She nods at him, mouthing the words: “I’m proud of you.” in hopes that he can read her lips. Wonwoo, excelling at everything he does, manages to do so, nodding back at her before returning his gaze towards his wife.

Then, comes the exchange of words. His deep vibrato promises to cherish Fae forever, and she believes him. Maybe, she doesn’t have anyone by her side, or a man that can compare to the quality of people that Wonwoo is, but the time will come. For now, she’s the tree that shadows over the couple, sheltering from the eyes of the judging as they kiss, after letting out into the world what they wish for each other. Enormous contentedness, for example.

She claps, hands coming together as if praying that they will get to live up to their words. Plenty of years that will come and would have happened to her if Wonwoo was truly her person. Or maybe, he is, because this buzzing excitement that builds like makeup within her chest, coating her heart in layers and layers to hide what truly lays underneath is…an indicative.

Wonwoo is not a person that she got rid off easily. If not, they wouldn’t be friends by now.

Cheers escape her lips, fists balled and raised high in the air for the new couple. At least, someone got to have a happy ending.

###

UNIVERSE 04: the unknown

“I wish I had your eyes.”

Wonwoo says so with simplicity, his nephew—or more like his brother’s grandson—looking up from the handwritten letter that is taking up most of his time and headspace. He takes off on the family genes, with the dark hair, stoic eyes and cat-like smile. Though, the blush is different. In his eighty-six years of living, Wonwoo can’t recall the last time he actually blushed.

He sits back on his chair, creaking from how old it is, wood carving into the spine that had once functioned as leverage for running miles in the Olympics, but now is just a tale that people rarely believe from him. With that, he gets to cross one leg over the other and smile.

Love. Oh lord, love. How beautiful it is, and so inexplicably unreachable for him.

People say that everyone has fallen in love at least once in their lives, but for Wonwoo, it never felt quite right. Women were beautiful in their own spectrum of differences; he had liked a few, if he dares say so himself, with relationships growing and then, withering to the pressure of passing a few months together. But he had never met someone that had him feeling like he could keep going. A romance that could paralyze him to the bone and make him stay.

Now he doesn’t move much, but he doesn’t have anyone that accompanies him, perhaps with a memory, as he sits on this damn uncomfortable chair at six in the morning, downs his two shots of coffee and then, proceeds to read whatever book he finds in his beloved book collection. He wonders if the problem was him; if he couldn’t just quite make his expectations lower so someone could sit by his side.

He feels like his soulmate never came his way, either.

Minho crooks one of his slim legs over his hip, turning to look at the old man. “Paps, I am quite sure you have them. My dad can’t stop going on and on about the Jeon’s and how their eyes are the reason they got ladies on the first place—”

“Not that. Your dad’s an idiot.” Wonwoo excuses, laughing from within his belly and earning a smile from Minho, who plays with the button of his pen. “I am saying that you have a look in your eyes that I wish I had. How long have you been going out with this lady?”

“Almost three months.” Minho admits, running a hand through his dense hair. “…I mean, I’ve liked her for a bit longer, but paps, this is…like…you have to know how it is. I love this woman. I can’t imagine any other girl in my life.”

He can’t say that thought has crossed his head. It’s difficult to fathom just one person being enough for the rest of his life. He was a man of education, so it wasn’t like he was lurking for hook-ups…he just liked the science of relationships more. Why hunt when it always ended in a fall-out?

And he never really cared enough to keep going, either.

“I don’t know how that is. Maybe, that’s the goddamned problem.”

“How—? What?” Minho’s incredulous voice has him standing up, forgetting his letter to his girl to frown at Wonwoo as he points at him. “You’ve never been in love?”

“Never met anybody who could truly make me feel at ease.” Wonwoo announces, clearing his throat and rubbing at the long hairs on his chin. “…Because that’s what love is to me. I didn’t want a woman that I could go crazy with in the sheets. I needed a lady that…made me feel like I could be a better man, who pressured me to be better but still, made it seem like it was nothing. Like trying for her was just enough.”

“That’s crazy…” Minho mumbles, taking a seat next to Wonwoo. It’s horrid that he has to live in the same house as his brother’s family, just because walking gets harder by the day. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

“I do.” Wonwoo contemplates, nodding along to his words before sighing. “I believe there are people in this universe that we are just meant to find. But I never looked, you know? I stayed still. Hoped the great woman would just burst through the door and be…perfect. For her to be ready for me. For us.”

“That’s not how it works.” Minho says. “Love is action. Soulmates are action, too. You can find them, but if you never truly make an effort to develop and help grow, it’s not going anywhere.” Those words ring within him, youth bursting from his vocal cords, but nonexistent in the antiqueness of his vision. “Because destiny can only do so much. People can be perfect for each other, while being imperfect in their own ways.”

His nephew, or grandnephew, stops for a moment before smiling fully, like a vein in his chest had popped and liberated him.

“If we learn to forgive, we learn to love.” He finalizes, pressing a hand to Wonwoo’s knee and patting it. Those words settle within him; regret basking upon the old man’s figure. Of having so much and yet, having lived so little. With that, the guy raises one eyebrow in questioning. “Would you like to read what I’m writing? I want to give it to her for our four-month anniversary.”

“Technically not an anniversary.” Wonwoo adds the obvious, only to have Minho laughing.

“And right and there, paps, is why you’re still single at this age and time.” He still doesn’t listen to Wonwoo’s grumpy ways, or the grumble that he lets out. Minho sits by his side, the bubblegum pink paper making Wonwoo cackle. “So, I started it off by spraying perfume on it.”

“Of course, you did.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

“Oh, just so the lady never forgets me.”

“…And there goes, some of your dad’s genes popping out.”

“Paps, don’t be so grumpy.”

“Sorry, that’s what old single men are like.”

“Well, old man, let me show you what real love sounds like.”

###

UNIVERSE 05: we were just kids.

Bones chilled, crippling under the weight of small tremors, Wonwoo doubts this is the harshest rain the city has met. Not that he would know; he’s only been living for eight years in this wholesome world, but he knows for a fact that he could climb mountains with storms that could break the sky itself and he’d make it, just to meet his crush by the swings that near his home.

She’s his neighbor of sorts. His cousin studies with him, just one year older than him, and he ignores the kind of beauty he holds. The headbands that cling to her hair and tangle it even more. The gloss of her lips that may come from the donuts he always steals from his dad’s shelves just to give something to her. Her cheeks are rounded, like universes that he’d dare kiss if that wasn’t prohibited. Mom taught him that he shouldn’t get too close to girls, but she’s…gorgeous.

Intelligent.

She’s a storm waiting to unravel and he notices it when her hands splay under the rain, trapped underneath one of the picnic tables, waiting for the night not to eat them alive with the power of rain water. She may be made of sugar, like the sweetness of her words when she tells him that he’s the best student in his grade, that he knows things that even her, as his senior, has no idea about. That could be why she doesn’t get under the rain, afraid of it, cling to her own knees…

“Oh!” Wonwoo says his thoughts out loud. Of freaking course! Dad always lent his jacket to Mom when the weather got a bit cold. Though, he’s not a businessman. He doesn’t have a jacket around waiting to wrap around her arms. Instead, he stretches the sleeves of his yellow sweater, placing the tips on her ears and mumbling. “You must be freezing.”

“Everywhere. Not just my ears.” She points out and thank God it has gotten late—though not really, he may hear an earful from his parents when he gets back home—. Or, they could come looking for them. For, both her family and his knew about their whereabouts. “You’ll ruin your sweater.”

“You’ll get sick.” Wonwoo points out the obvious, though he can’t help but give a toothy grin that is mostly braces. “…That could give us an excuse to come over to my place. My grandma always makes the best chicken soup. Dad says it heals the heart.”

She smiles at him, crooked, closing her eyes the slightest before returning her gaze to the sky. “I’m afraid we won’t make it home tonight. I don’t want to stay out from home.”

Then, she pauses, lowering her voice.

“I’m scared.”

He hadn’t noticed that while being under the rain with her seemed like the most romantic thing to do, it was also something that she didn’t want to do. Responsible, eager to wrap herself up in her mom’s arms as she had hot chocolate to ease the ache in her joints, that’s who she was. The stars become her north, though Wonwoo notices she’s studying the houses not too far, where the lights have started to take place one by one because of people turning them on at the dusk of dawn.

That’s the cue he needs for taking off his sweater, leaving him only in a white t-shirt with a dinosaur imprinted on it. Then, he’s placing the sweater on top of their heads.

“Wonwoo!” She screeches, covering her face with her palms. “What do you think you’re doing? You’ll get sick, too!”

“I am getting you home, that’s exactly what I’m doing!” His black hair sticks to his face, turning around with his sweater getting drenched while on top of him. He’s already out of their hideaway, nodding at her. “Get here! We need to run before we get entirely wet!”

“Jesus!” She adds, walking alongside him and wrapping an arm around his waist to keep the two of them under the sweater. Wonwoo would be lying if he said he didn’t feel his heart racing within his chest. “O—Okay. I’ll have my mom make you some hot choco in return.”

“Really?”

“O—Of course.” Teeth tittering, she gives him a smile when he looks down at her for a fraction of a second, running through the streets of their neighborhood, shoes ruined because of them splashing against the water-covered concrete. The tip of her nose glistens as if she had just cried, but she looks genuinely happy. “Wonwoo, you’re…the best boy I’ve ever met.”

They are only eight years old, but those words are enough to let Wonwoo know that he wants to be just as old as his parents are and cling to her hand just because he can, and because he wants to. He guides their scavenging, blushing, trembling, mumbling and tripping over his own words, perhaps even his shoelaces, because he is so young and yet, he knows this is love.

The romance his grandma always coos about in those books she reads as her dishes are finished.

The same love that his brother got scolded about just a few days prior for drawing hearts on his notebook.

The love that adults say they can’t find because they are too blind to the obvious. Only a heart that loves purely is able to hunt for romance. For, if love is viewed by a battlefield, it will only be a matter of time before the ticking bomb explodes and their territory is turned to ashes. He may not know a lot about life, or if they’ll last forever, but in his short years of living he knows he doesn’t want her anywhere but at his side, each and every afternoon, playing in that park near their neighborhood, swings with their names written in between doodles of hearts.

###

UNIVERSE 06: i promised i’d stay.

The first night of living with somebody should feel like the initiation of a construction work that only architects could battle with. It’s a promise of sorts; the trial and error that every relationship needs to go through, and she’s so certain about Wonwoo. Everything that he has established and shown to be in the year they have been together, but at the same time, lying next to him as the lull light of his reading lamp bathes over them, his eyes half-closing as he dives into a good read, feels like she could die at any minute.

Not because of him, but she just wants everything to go well.

It’s the fear of having people a few years from now telling her that they saw it from the get-go; that they wouldn’t work out in any way. It’s the irrational thought that pops in her head and tells her that, much like blogs and memes have emphasized, people are not to be trusted, for no one loves truly in this time and age. It’s the weight on her chest that tells her that he loves her, but she could have tried to put on something sexier instead of her usual cartoon pajamas.

She tries to fall asleep to no avail. People say that relationships no longer exist; we are just going from one person to the other, searching to be found. However, the thought of not having Wonwoo by her side and failing in this terrifies her. She is supposed to be the love of his life, the woman that he sighs about every single day and the mere reason why he has a smile on his face. She doesn’t ask for perfect, for they have had their arguments with tranquil conversations aiming to be respectful between the two, but she wants it to be him.

But what if it’s not him?

What if it’s him, but she’s not his ‘it’s her’?

Another turn on the bed.

Another tug of the sheets.

Another sigh.

Wonwoo closes his book softly, eyes closing the slightest before he turns to the side. That’s when he comes face to face with her, pulling the covers slightly over his chin before he connects his gaze to hers.

“I can hear the gears turning inside your head.” He whispers, licking his bottom lip and pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek before sighing. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.” She lies through her teeth, afraid of what he may think in that moment of overthinking. Though, Wonwoo doesn’t eat it up, humming at her words.

“Are you sad?”

“Not precisely.”

“Are you angry?”

“Not precisely.�� She repeats.

“Is it something I did?”

“Not precisely.” She confesses, hiding her face on his chest and feeling all the weight on her shoulders come out in a sigh. “It’s the fear of what you can do. Like leaving, stop loving me, hating me after moving in with me…wanting to go somewhere else, loving someone else—”

“That’s impossible.” Wonwoo says with a scoff, placing a hand on her face and pressing kisses to her cheeks repeatedly, each softer than the last one.

“Promise me it’s impossible.”

“I can swear.” Wonwoo announces, pulling away to kiss her lips. Her heart races and calms down at his motions at the same time; the paradoxical magic that he pulls with her. “Because I choose to love you every day, even when there are millions of people out there, and circumstances that can happen between us. I choose to go to bed every night with you because I was tired of thanking God and having to think you’re far away. I won’t hate you, because I want to make it work.” He stops for a second, rubbing at a tear that had glided down her eye. “I choose you here, now, tomorrow, forever. You’re the love of my life not because the universe put you on my road, but because I choose you.”

Sometimes, we get lost on ‘the one’. The one person that was made to perfection to fit exactly what we wanted. However, we shape the person we love within our thoughts to be the one that we wanted. It’s up to us to accept someone, or feel like they are the kind of person that we want by our sides forever. She thinks this way as she cuddles closer to his chest, intertwining their legs, imagining if it will feel as safe and beautiful as it does right now when they are eighty and he keeps reading a few chapters before going to bed.

After all, doubting Wonwoo comes in spurts that disappear when she recalls that she feels like she has known him forever. Here, in this lifetime and the many ones to come.

Maybe, in another universe, they are just as in love as they are right now.

#wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #seventeen x raeder #wonwoo #kpop scenarios #writing #soulmate!au

174 notes · View notes

midniiights-garden · 4 months

Text

Modern!Mizu General Headcanons!!

I have so many many ideas for Modern!Mizu omg you don't understand (I wish she was real...)

Ok, so first of all I wanna start out with some HCs about her past and her mother.

I think she probably grew up in rural Japan, her relationship with her mother basically still the same as in the show.

Due to not being exposed to very many foreigners her relationship with her peers was strained because of her blue eyes (ofc. hate discrimination smHHH)

Anyways, although Mizu doesn't have to hide her gender, and I personally headcanon that Modern!Mizu wouldn't hide it, she still has some internalized mysogyny.

This is namely due to the huge issue with sexisim in Japan, sexual harassment and sexualisation of women and so on. Mizu grew up wishing she was a boy because she didn't want to feel like a piece of meat to be eyed up and down and sold.

I HC that she meets the Swordfather when she attempted to run away from home. Probably due to another bullying incident or something.

In my head she actually moves to America or Europe to study something related to craftsmanship or to become a professional martial artist. It makes the most sense in my head at least.

She got into Uni on a scholarship lol. I mean, translated into a modern setting I do think her skill would be enough to warrant a large scholarship.

University was a rough time in the beginning for her due to the many changes that come with moving to a new country, as myself and most other third country kids will know.

Mizu had to juggle learning English, beating racist asshole and school all at the same time.

Due to her reluctance to socialize she also struggles to learn English in the verbal sense. She learned how to read and write in English much faster than to speak it because she had no one practice with. That, and she refused to talk to anyone.

As for how she met Mikio...

Modern!Mizu probably met him because he was a teacher at her Uni.

Long story short when he finds out how she was concieved and how strong he is, well, big strong man gets emasculated and throws a fit and Mizu leaves him (as she should)

And then she realises she's gay lol

I think it'd happen in a pretty similar fashion as to Canon!Mizu but you can look at my headcanons for those if you need them.

I think the main differences between Modern!Mizu and Canon!Mizu would primarily be in how she deals with her rage. Of course, Modern!Mizu isn't allowed the luxury of just stabbing people to get revenge so I believe she may resort to a lot of physical exertion in the gym or just a lot of lashing out towards people in general.

(A/N: Yayayayayya second post for the day!!! As usual, if anyone has any requests or anything feel free to ask!! Happy holidays everyone!!! <3)

#mizu blue eye samurai #i love women #blue eye samurai #wlw #i love fictional characters #mizu x you #mizu x reader #mizu #mizu come home the kids miss you #x reader #headcannons #x you fluff #fluff

266 notes · View notes

lizzaneia-elizalde · 9 months

Note

ME FIRST!

CAN YOU DO YANDERE JOCK PLEASE!

Yandere! Jock x Honor student! gn! reader

YEY A MOTIVATION TO WRITE!

As my first request... I'm going to put voice claims as like a celebration!

Yan! Jock (Damon): Marshall Lee from Adventure Time (Donald Glover)

Yan! Sugar daddy (Rowan Silas): Howl from Howl's Moving Castle (Christian Bale)

Yan! Butler (Zero): Baizhu from Genshin Impact in JP (Yusa Koji)

Yan! Theater actor (Ignatius): Tamaki from Ouran Highschool Host Club (Vic Mignogna)

Yan! Dragon (Vincent): Lilac Cookie from Cookie Run Kingdom (Behzad Dabu)

Yan! Artist (Arlen): Sal Fischer from Sally Face

((Just the voice claims, the charas involved are not really related to the Yans. BUT FOR THE LIFE OF ME I CAN'T FIND A PERFECT FIT FOR ROWAN GRRRRRRRR also Zero being in Japanese... Well, I actually did a Beware the Villainess voice headcannons before, and I used Baizhu JP as Nine's voice. Since Zero's inspired by him, then... Yeah.))

TW: Blood, gore, violence against a dead body.

He's a bit... Dumb.

That's what his friends would say when you ask about Damon.

He's dumb, yet sweet, kind, and insanely athletic.

People call him your typical himbo.

Rumors had it that he's completely a mama's boy, someone who doesn't know the difference between their, they're, and there, a man who has just one braincell that ticks around his head like the dvd logo bouncing around the screen and only get used on sports.

Ah yes, sports. The only thing he's extremely smart at.

Other than being street smart, he's body smart also. That's why he's being passed around by sports team in his University and also being gatekept by the clubs.

The baseball club needs a batter? On it. The basketball club had their ace sick? Don't worry, the mvp is here. The badminton team needs a pair for the doubles? Sure, just make sure to let him bring his own racket. Fencing club lacks one person for a complete sparring session? Uh, he hasn't tried fencing yet, but he will still master it immediately.

So because everything in his peanut brain gets squeezed onto sports, his academics isn't really the best...

Yet, his athlete scholarship made him stay afloat in the University. Plus he's the adorable kind of dumb, so everyone loved him.

If you try to tell him that he's a himbo, he would take it as an offense and would yell at you with the biggest pout and puppy dog eyes that he's not a himbo!

Oh, sweet summer child he is.

Everyone liked to watch this big, buff puppy play around with a smile on his face.

But not the Dean of his college. I mean, he's an athlete scholar, that's for sure, but he's still in Education! He needs to do better in his studies if he wants to be a teacher in the future!

And no! Damon cannot just cluelessly tilt his head to the side!

While Damon pouted, the dean called for you.

You're the candidate magna cum laude in your batch. Smart as you are, you buried your nose in books and notes as you studied to become a teacher, but lacked the confidence and charisma to be an effective one.

So the Dean thought this would be the perfect synergy. Damon's personality would rub on you, while your braincells will rub on his.

It was perfect.

And while you stood there with your eyes downcast, Damon's eyes widened as he stared at you.

It was love at first sight.

"Damon for the last time, it's School Based Management! Not Shoe Base Management! How did you even twist it to that?"

"Hehe, sorry y/n..."

*You sighed and crossed out the number.*

"5/50. How did your score got lower than the last time?! And it's a repeat test too!"

Rowan pouted and fiddled with his fingers. His eyes downcast as he appeared vulnerable.

"I'm sorry y/n.... I will do my best next time..."

*You sighed once more, knowing you can't deny this man.*

"Alright alright. Let's just study again."

You and Damon are in the library now, studying for the upcoming retake that Damon needs to take. But despite being here in the library for two hours, he still hasn't improved at all!

You stood up and glanced around, trying to see more books to use for studying. One preferably understandable for ding dongs like him.

Maybe a children's picture book of CPE 102 was needed for this guy.

You were harsh yet also patient with Damon, something he really likes. If he had a tail right now, it would wag rapidly to the point he'll break a bone in it.

All his thoughts is filled with you and you. The back of his notebook is scribbled with your name and his encased in a heart, crude drawings of you and him holding hands, or a silly children's game where he does a compatibility test using both of your names.

Neverminded that the test always ends up at "enemies" or "strangers", no no no... He won't accept it.

So these tests had large scribble marks all over him as words filled with rage about how the tests are lies are inked there.

And while Damon swung his feet while scribbling your and his future children's (yes, plural) names, he suddenly wondered where you are.

He got off his seat and walked around until he found you.

"Y/n--!"

He stopped dead in his tracks.

He felt shivers run down his spine.

There you where, smiling and bantering with an another man. Amicably talking to each other like you were the best of pals.

Damon recognized him from your class records (don't question why he knew your class records, he swears he's just doing research). Jupiter was his name, oddly enough. He's also a candidate magna cum laude and your study buddy. He's naturally gifted in academics and so does in his looks.

So when Damon saw how your eyes sparkled while talking to that guy...

He felt his façade crack.

Jupiter ran quickly across the lit yet empty rugby field in his University. Everyone was out for the school day since it was already 10pm.

How did Jupiter end up running away frantically with his clothes sticking on his body due to sweat?

It would be because of a masked man chasing him, power walking towards him with a metal baseball bat in hand. Jupiter can't see his face, but knew he's absolutely huge.

Jupiter ran as quickly as he can, but his body can't keep up. His legs weakened and his knee started to hurt as he heaved quickly. His vision swimming as he tried to run across and away from the man.

He's academic for god's sake! Physical activities are his mortal enemy!

As he cursed his hatred away, Jupiter tripped on a rock and rolled forward. His knee also finally gave up and is now hurting a lot.

Jupiter tried to scream for help, but all he could do is bite his lip as he held his poor knee.

Not until the man got close and clubbed him on that knee, making Jupiter scream in agony.

"AAAAAAAHHHH!!!"

That night, Jupiter's scream echoed throughout the empty rugby field and the sound of a hard object hitting a body. Then,

SQUELCH!

CRACK!

Then silence.

The masked man looked at the bloodied mess and chuckled. His small giggle turning into a full blown laughter as he tried to suppress it.

Damon grabbed a sharpie from his back pocket and scribbled on Jupiter's mangled body. His back, which is still somehow smooth, now contained your nickname and Damon's.

He's doing the compatibility test again.

"Soulmates! Oh my god!" Damon screamed in happiness. "Finally! Oh this is great! I shouldn't have doubted the test!"

Damon danced around Jupiter's body like he's not dead. Then, he kicked Jupiter's body. And kicked it. And kicked it. And kicked it more.

"Tch. You think you can smile at my soulmate like that? Think again buckaroo." Damon whispered, dropping his himbo jock persona.

This man had a sharp, intelligent look in his eyes. One that does not hold innocent curiosity, only a morbid bloodthirst.

This was the real Damon.

"Fuck. This dumb himbo persona is fucking me up. All I could do is put all my frustrations on sports." Damon spat out and kicked Jupiter's body towards his expensive truck. "I'm sick and tired of being labeled like that."

Then, he remembered your face. How he caught you staring at him with fondness as he acted dumb and cute.

He shivered.

"Maybe I'll continue to do this persona. Fuck. If only my parents would leave me be after that incident, then I won't have to do this."

Once Damon placed Jupiter's body on his truck, he started to clean the field with ease.

This wasn't his first kill after all.

He's always been twisted since he's a kid. But was forced to hide it due to his parents finding out he killed his cat with his own two hands with a smile on his face.

A trip to rehab, and he adopted this persona.

He slammed his truck close and drove away, humming and thanking that the University security cameras are broken.

He would kill more if necessary.

He's not afraid to dirty his hands. If ever, he loved it.

He looked at a picture of you and him in his dashboard. The picture was you smiling widely to the camera with a blushing Damon on the side, a test paper raised. It had full marks.

He kissed his finger and placed that finger on your lips.

"My soulmate~"

#yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere drabbles #lizzaneiaelizalde

547 notes · View notes

tarotwithlove · 3 months

Text

PAC ⋆ blessings coming towards you in the next three months ; timeless reading

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · BOOK A 2024 YEAR AHEAD READING WITH ME (GENERAL OR NSFW) · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards · six of cups (reversed), queen of pentacles, king of pentacles (reversed), ten of wands, four of pentacles, strange valentine: love is strange!

channelled songs · light bulb by nct u. replay (pm 01:27) by nct 127. not nice by megan thee stallion. out of control by the boyz.

hey there my group one ♡ these three months begin with a purge; with removing things from your life that do not, and will not, serve you -- people who will only take from your life instead of add to it, job opportunities that have no future, desires that will bring you nothing but harm.

this may not feel like a blessing, of course, and you may often find yourself feeling hopeless. you may feel that nothing is working out in your favour, only for the universe to be working for you behind the scenes.

the queen and king of pentacles beside each other, with the king of pentacles, shows us the first tangible blessing of the next three months. it is not so much that love or a relationship is the blessing coming towards you, but, rather, that you realise you do not need a relationship to make you happy. that you realise you do not need someone else to complete you or to save you from your life.

this realisation may come as a result of you experiencing a great financial blessing in your life, or having a financial burden lightened by some external force. you may get a job, a raise, a bursary or a scholarship. you may win the lottery. this is something substantial in your life, that makes you feel safe and secure in your life -- and, thus, by extension, safe and secure in yourself -- not just a one-off piece of financial assistance like someone lending you money.

these next three months will bring you a lot to do, and you will have to toe the line between how much you do for others versus how much you do for yourself. you may have more money -- more consistent money -- than you've had in a long time, and you'll want to spoil your loved ones, help with bills, donate to charity, and buy things for yourself. you'll want to spend it freely, telling yourself it's fine because you'll get paid again soon. and while, yes, to an extent, it is fine and you will get paid again soon, you will still need to save as much money as possible.

in these upcoming three months, as you experience a surge in financial blessings, be wise with your money, how you spend it and how you save it. and make sure you are allowing your future self to also experience this state of abundance by putting money aside for them.

GROUP TWO

cards · page of wands (reversed), knight of pentacles (reversed), the high priestess (reversed), the moon (reversed), strength (reversed), two little witches: magickal space-clearing time.

channelled songs · fake by brockhampton. best friend ever by nct dream. pretty gurlz shoot by bbymutha & fly anakin. dun deal by central cee.

hey there my group two ♡ it may not feel like the next three months have any blessings at all you, but they will. though these will be blessings in disguise. these will be blessings that you only see as blessings many months, or even years, later. hindsight is 20/20 after all.

you may be injured, fired, or laid off in this time. whatever it is exactly, something may happen that, directly or inadvertently, forces you to stay indoors. alone with yourself and with your thoughts; stifled, frustrated, bored, and unsure of what the future has in store for you. you will have all this time on your hands and little to do with it. this, in turn, will make you do something that you otherwise would not have done, or that otherwise would not have had time to do -- like writing or painting or learning a new language.

this is something drastic that forces you to do things differently. live differently. approach life differently.

the actor taz skylar (who plays sanji in the one piece live action) comes to mind. he has spoken about how he had wanted to join the british army as a reservist, however a car accident gave him a severe concussion which led to him failing medical tests and being unable to enlist. this, in turn, led him to acting and writing.

so something which, in the moment may have seemed life-ending, which may have left him at a loss for what to do with his life, actually put him on the right path.

that’s god’s intervention. that’s dharma – in the sense of the universe and your soul aligning with what you need to do in order for the world at large to remain harmoniously balanced.

and that is what’s happening to you, now and in the next three months.

you will feel like your life is falling apart around you. you will feel like your life is ending, but know that your life is not ending. your life is about to start.

GROUP THREE

cards · six of cups, queen of pentacles, eight of swords (reversed), the sun (reversed), nine of wands, storm angel: collision of beliefs, styles, attitudes, energies.

channelled songs · my love by florence + the machine. check yes, juliet by we the kings. flamin’ hottie by megan thee stallion. baltimore by bbymutha.

hey there my group three ♡ these next three months bless you with something for which you have been asking god for some time. i'm hearing the words, "god, please, please, let me get what i want!” -- this prayer that you have called out to the divine, to the universe, for days and weeks and months now. a desperate clinging on to hope, even when everything in you starts to feel hopeless.

right now, you may feel lost… uncertain… out of touch… you need things to start working out for you. you need peace of mind. and, as much as you need it, you may feel like these things are just so out of reach for you that such things will be all but impossible to ever achieve. but know, dear, they will not be out of reach for too much longer.

you will come into your own in the next three months, as it is discipline in and of itself with which you will be blessed. this discipline will, slowly but surely, change everything in your life.

you will find yourself more willing to make difficult choices. more willing to sacrifice temporary comforts for permanent luxuries. more willing to put in the work without receiving any immediate fruits for your efforts and labour. more willing to accept delayed gratification.

discipline is not only the biggest blessing you will receive in the next three months, but the biggest blessing to your life overall.

with this discipline, you will find yourself succeeding in many ways. if you want to see changes in your physical appearance, you will be disciplined enough to put in the consistent work to see such changes. if you want to improve your singing abilities, you will disciplined enough to consistently improving your abilities. if you want to get promoted, you will be disciplined enough to do all that is asked of you and more until you receive this desired promotion. and so on, and so forth.

GROUP FOUR

cards · nine of wands, the world, eight of cups (reversed), three of cups (reversed), eight of swords, the three fates: what comes around…

channelled songs · dedication by epik high. never too much by luther vandross. plastic flowers by the front bottoms. sing about me, i’m dying of thirst by kendrick lamar.

hey there my group four ♡ the next three months brings you major blessings in the form of the people who have hurt you, betrayed you, and just in general done some wrong to you, receiving what is coming to them.

the law is coming through quite strongly, so someone may go to jail. especially someone who you currently have a case against, or who you plan to open a case against.

for some of you, your divorce may -- at last -- be finalised. here too, again, for some, with it being proven that your ex-spouse is a violent person or unfit parent. jail time, restraining orders, and you gaining full custody of any children involved are significant.

for others, this blessing comes in the form of someone who hurt you being injured or killed. you may hear about this or get this news and celebrate with your friends, telling people who knew how much suffered at the hands of the person and posting to your social media accounts things like, "my abuser died lolll." this may be a stalker, for some of you.

people may tell you that you shouldn’t be happy because this is still a tragedy. but, so what? be happy. you’re free now.

#**#tarot #pac #pick a card #channelled message #channeled message #channeled reading #spirituality #spiritualism #divination #tarotblr #tarotcreator #tarotcommunity #witchblr #future reading #predictions

320 notes · View notes

winterchimez · 4 months

Text

A New Beginning With You | Lee Juyeon

SUMMARY: it has been a couple of years since you and your childhood best friend, Juyeon, went on your separate ways. Years later, you were given the opportunity to return to Seoul to pursue a new career, only to find out that your new employer is the one you have been dreading to see. Will you toss away all of the emotions again, or will you finally come to terms and fix this broken relationship with him?

PAIRING: ceo!Juyeon x f!reader

GENRE: office au, ex-childhood friends to lovers, coming of age, angst, fluff

WARNINGS: nc-17, slow-burn, this is pretty angsty ngl 😭, betrayal, several heart wrenching moments (it takes a while for both Juyeon and reader to figure out their emotions), language (one curse word), miscommunication, alcohol consumption, reader gets drunk a couple of times, several heated arguments, petnames (princess, sweetheart), kissing

WORD COUNT: 15,466

A/N: here is my submission for deoboyznet's holiday exchange event!! boo @cloverdaisies i'm your secret santa 🎅👀 ngl i did struggle with the prompts that you gave mainly cs i don't usually read/watch coming of age works so i hope i did this fic justice 🥹🥹🥹 big big shoutout to @momhwa-agenda for choosing the banner, also helping me to beta read (along with @from-izzy @juyeonszn) sending my unending kisses and hugs to all of you 😘💕

Seven years ago

“What do you mean you’re leaving?”

It all just felt so sudden, and you weren’t sure if you were hallucinating as you heard those words that came out from the mouth of your best friend for the past seventeen years. You both have made a promise to one another since you both were in kindergarten that no matter how big or small the situation may be, you both will always have each other’s backs and that no secrets were to be kept from one another, even if they may feel like you have been punched right into the face during the aftermath of it all.

Or that was what you thought.

“Y/N…I had no control over anything…you do know how my father often has to travel across the globe for his job—”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you decided to keep it a secret from me when you first discovered that you were potentially going to follow your father’s footsteps for his company.”

From the beginning, you knew that Juyeon’s father worked at a relatively elite corporate company. Because of his status, he was often sent away to various countries to fulfill his job. It has been decades since his father has been in and out of Seoul, and he would often travel on his own not wanting to bother his family and wanting them to have a peaceful life here.

Never in a million years would you have thought that he would bring his entire family along with him as he starts a new chapter in his life in the States, and also get Juyeon to follow in his father’s footsteps.

You were on the verge of crying, your cheeks were heating up, and you had unintentionally balled up your fists, clearly failing terribly to suppress the anger and betrayal you felt.

“I just don’t get it, Juyeon. You have always wanted to pursue basketball. Hell, you have even sought a sports scholarship to get into one of the prestigious universities in Seoul! Why are you giving up now?” You huffed.

You could tell that he was showing some reluctance in his answer, and truthfully, he didn’t really know how to give you an answer, either. But he decided to reply in the most plausible and fitting one that was right for the current situation you both were in.

“Family has to always come first, Y/N. If it were for my family's future, especially my stay-at-home mother and younger brother, I would do anything to ensure my father and I can provide for them.”

You scoffed. “Bullshit.”

You took a few steps forward until you were merely inches apart. Looking straight into Juyeon’s eyes, you could tell he felt the same way and was also trying to hold back his tears.

“You’re not the Juyeon I know. My Juyeon, who has been right by my side ever since we were kids, would always go above and beyond to work for what he truly wants. He is never afraid to voice his opinion, and he would do anything to ensure his happiness would be fulfilled no matter the consequences.”

Finally, the tears that you have held back for so long began dripping down your face as you began to hit him simultaneously on his chest.

“What exactly happened to you, Juyeon?”

At the same time, tears clouded his vision as a single teardrop dripped onto his face. You could tell that something was holding him back from telling you the truth, if any, and his following answer would break you down even more.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

With that, a black car pulls up at the school entrance, revealing his younger brother rolling down the window to call out for his big brother. You could see multiple pieces of luggage lined up at the back trunk of the car, and they were ready to head straight to the airport.

With a glance back to signal to his family that he would be coming shortly, he turned to you to apologise once more before gently pushing you away to leave.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I wish you all the best in your future as you enter university and eventually the workforce.”

Just like that, Juyeon quickly sped down the stairs and opened the door to the car before settling in. Within seconds, his parents, sitting in the front seats, gave you a little wave before they drove away right through the exit.

Almost instantly, all of the built-up tension was suddenly released from you all at once, and you finally broke down crying at the entrance of your high school. What you thought would be a memorable, happy graduation for you both as you parted ways with your youth years turned out to be one sad separation from your best friend.

You both planned your summer holidays with one another before officially enrolling in university in the autumn. You were going to head to Busan for a five-day trip during the first month, going to visit your aunt who lived on the outskirts of Seoul to help her in her fieldwork (especially when she has a soft spot for Juyeon), and even going to visit all of the bazaars that were going to be held in central Seoul.

There were so many potential activities and times you could have had with one another, and you were even planning to propose to Juyeon that you wanted to be more than just childhood friends.

Because you have been having an insane crush on him since you were kids, and you realised it was love by the time you both entered high school.

Unfortunately, it was too late to confess your love to him, as he was now long gone, heading straight to the airport before he eventually said his final goodbye to his home for the past seventeen years, Seoul.

Maybe it was fate that you both were just not meant to be with one another; perhaps it was why his father had no choice but to bring his whole family with him to start a new life in the States.

For the first time, you cursed and blamed yourself for having such hope and planning a potential future with someone who was clearly out of your league, and you thought it had all been a waste of time since the beginning.

With that, the little needle-felted cat you have been hiding and made last night was released from your grips as he fell towards the stairs and eventually towards the ground. As you noticed, more tears kept welling up in your eyes, and you brought both hands to cover your face, not wanting to care about anything right now.

I shouldn’t have had so much hope. I was stupid enough actually to fall in love with you, Juyeon.

Present Day

“Oh, Y/N! Looks like your article just got published in the London Mail this morning!”

Your co-worker gave you a little pat on the back before he placed the newspapers right onto your desk, and it was clear how your article was published right on the front page with your name written very obviously at the right corner.

“Please, it was nothing. It’s what I do all the time,” you replied bluntly.

“What do you mean it was nothing? You just interviewed the rising actor of the month! That’s big news, and you deserve to celebrate it!"

“Please, it really is nothing—”

“Hey everyone, our department needs a little night out after work at the local pub! We’re toasting to Y/N’s big break in the news today!”

Your co-worker shouted out loud, and eventually, cheers erupted in the office, everyone congratulating you and thinking about the potential drinks and songs they would go for once work is over.

You smiled and chuckled at the sight. You have always loved your job and are grateful to have met such a fantastic group of people in this company.

It wasn’t your dream to pursue the path of becoming a reporter in the beginning. Sure, you have always had a passion for writing, but you have always considered it your hobby. Thanks to your sister, who was studying abroad in Manchester then, who convinced you to take that leap of faith and turn that hobby into a potential job.

So here you were, living the best of your life. You followed your sister’s footsteps and went on to live abroad in the UK, enrolling in the University of Manchester, where you successfully graduated with honours the past year. Thankfully, you secured a place in the London Mail right after graduation due to your outstanding grades.

The move from Manchester to London was a bit tough, but you initially managed to pull through with your sister and her boyfriend's help. They were kind enough to help you settle down and stayed with you for the first couple weeks before returning to Manchester. You miss your sister’s presence, but you know that eventually, you had to venture out on your own and face reality as an adult.

It has been a year, and you have adapted to living alone. Often, things would get tough, but it was also thanks to you having such a fantastic team of colleagues that you were able to pull through it all, even when there were times you had to work overtime to fulfill all of the datelines that were pilling up nonstop, especially during the holiday seasons.

It wasn’t until recently that your article was accepted and published on the main cover page of the news, and that was when you finally earned your big break after a year. The company has deemed you to be one of the most talented youngsters they have had over the past decade, and they were more than happy to have had you as their employee.

Since then, things have settled down for you as you got a pay rise and had fewer hours to give you more time to rest well, mainly when you only survived with four to five hours of sleep daily. Now, you can eat your breakfast correctly and get a good seven to eight hours of sleep before coming every day.

Just as your co-workers were having the time of their lives trying to figure out the plans for tonight after work, your office desk telephone rang, and you picked it up hastily, thinking that you’d have another big scoop to write about

But it was from the CEO.

“Miss Y/N, please report to my office immediately.”

You were back home after that fun night out at your local pub with your co-workers, holding a beer in hand as you FaceTime your sister over the phone.

“Well, it’s a good opportunity for you, don’t you think, Y/N?”

“I’m not too sure about all of this, sis. Like yeah, it would be great that I would be back home, but still—”

“Hey, I know mom would be ecstatic to have you back in Seoul with her. And it just so happened that you have been telling me how you recently began feeling a little homesick. I’d say it would be great for you to take up the offer.” She reassured.

It was the moment your mouth fell open wide when you heard that you had been offered to be a senior reporter for one of Seoul’s top magazines at the moment, GQ Korea, where you would be interviewing potentially all of the current well-known celebrities in the country and getting a higher pay as well.

It seems that they have come across your contributions from the London Mail, and they were keen to have you on their team. Your first thought was grateful as your works were recognised globally, but also because you miss being home. But another part of you has already settled in the UK, so you weren’t sure if leaving now would be the right choice.

But now that your sister has given you some input, that was when you knew that it wouldn’t hurt to try it out, at the very least.

With one final sip of your beer, you leaned forward and gave your sister a smile for the first time since calling her this evening.

“I’m going home now, sis.”

It has been a week since you settled into Seoul, and you have loved being back in your comfort zone: the culture, the food, and the environment you grew up in.

Your mom was overjoyed as she picked you up from the airport, insisting she would take your luggage, especially when you have flown almost twenty-four hours just to get home. By the time you got home, your mom was already ready and prepared with all the dishes she had premade before your arrival and needed to heat them quickly.

You quickly took a shower before joining her at the dining table. You both chatted for close to midnight before she told you she would sleep ahead of you. Meanwhile, you decided to clean up your childhood bedroom to make space for everything you brought back from London.

There was this nostalgia as you entered your room; everything was still the same, exactly how you had left it when you left for the UK years ago. The same old blue painting on the wall, all your posters hung on them, even your favourite comic books that were still arranged nicely on your bookshelf.

You could tell there wasn’t a speck of dust in the room, indicating that your mom must have cleaned it occasionally. You couldn’t help but sigh, thinking about all the hard work she always puts herself through.

It took you a while to go through all your belongings, mainly because you were reminiscing as you looked at the pictures, books, and figurines scattered throughout your room.

It wasn’t until you came across a box tucked away at the corners of your room that you pulled them out towards the centre as you opened them up.

And god, you wished you hadn’t done that.

All the pictures and items contained memories you had with your past lover, Lee Juyeon.

You paused momentarily before reaching out to pick up the first item on top of the box: a picture.

It was taken when you both were in kindergarten. You were holding hands, wearing backpacks and little yellow helmets on your heads. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight; it was nostalgic and cute.

Right after that, you took out a pair of bracelets right below the picture. It was a friendship bracelet that you both made during middle school. It was summer when you recently discovered the trend of making friendship bracelets, where you went straight to Juyeon’s house across the street, practically dragged him back to your house, and got him to make one with you. You giggled at the thought of how Juyeon was so lost at the time, having to come to you almost every five seconds to tell you that he had either lost a piece or was having trouble threading the beads through the string.

When you thought it would all be good memories, you stumbled upon the one item you wished you would not have to see again.

The needle-felted cat you made for him on the night before graduation.

Unbeknownst to you, your hands began to tremble as you took the cat into your hands, staring at it as the memories flashed back: how you would give this to Juyeon and tell him that you were ready to be more than just close friends, up to the point of how he suddenly announced to you that he was leaving for good.

Slowly, you felt that your tears were beginning to well up in your eyes, and you quickly dumped all of the items back into the box and tucked them back in the corner, using a few items you had in your room, such as cardboard to block it completely out of sight.

You were not ready to go through all of the roller coasters of emotion once again.

Especially when deep down in your heart, you still had some feelings left for him. Even if you did not wish to admit it out loud.

You stood outside the tall building as you tried your best to fix up the blazer that your mum insisted you put on for your big day. With your handbag and laptop, you gave yourself a deep breath before mentally preparing yourself that this would be your new workplace from now on.

You looked to see the vast sign plastered outside the building: GQ Korea. You were definitely at the right place. It took you a few seconds to finally be able to take your very first steps into the building. Once you did, you were amazed at the astonishing art that filled the reception floor. It was a fashion and art magazine; after all, there was no doubt that the company's directors entailed such a choice of decorations to captivate everyone who walked into their building.

You walked straight towards the counter, where you were greeted by two ladies who were already expecting your arrival. Immediately, they got you signed up in the system, and one guided you to one of the fifth floors, where you would be meeting your new team and department that you would be working with.

As you were guided into the head of the department’s office, Ms Kim, who has been guiding and overlooking this particular department for the past five years, greeted you and made you feel comfortable instantly, which made all of your tensed-up muscles relax fairly quickly. She communicated well with you and, surprisingly, even shared some of the same ideals as you did. You were beyond grateful to hear when she mentioned that she has kept up with your works from the London Mail, and it was about time that the team needed someone like you.

Once both of you had taken the time to break the ice, Ms Kim led you to your desk just outside her office, where countless cubicles filled the entire floor. At first glance, you have estimated that there were about fifty employees who worked in this department. It didn’t take them long to greet you personally before you eventually made your way to your desk in the middle of the floor.

As you unloaded your bag of materials onto the desk and placed them in an organised manner, your hands digging through your bag finally stopped when you felt a familiar material. Instantly, you pulled it out to check what it was, and you were once again left speechless with what it was.

A picture of you and Juyeon back during your graduation from high school.

The only plausible reason it was in your workbag was because of your mother. You have never once told her that things ended badly between you both, and you have always shrugged off the fact that you were still keeping in touch with the man himself and that you both were still having a healthy friendship. You just didn’t want her to worry much, especially when she knew how much you both have been through, and she practically treated Juyeon like her own son.

As all loving mothers would do, she woke up hours ahead of you this morning to prepare you a filling bento box. She wrapped it with traditional cloth and placed it neatly into your work bag. At the same time, she probably put the little picture frame into the bag, hoping it would motivate you during work and decorate your new workplace.

With just a few seconds of staring at it, you looked down to see an empty trash bin that sat right beneath your work desk, and without thinking much, you immediately placed the picture right into it.

I’m sorry, mom. But I will not be needing it anymore.

Your first week of work flew by quickly as you easily got used to the working lifestyle. Seoul was your home, and it wasn’t hard to adapt back to the culture. In fact, you were grateful that your new group of co-workers could be on par with the ones back in London; they were all as great and supportive in helping you ease into the new environment. Your new co-workers even encouraged you to head out for a little drink at the local izakaya restaurant after work since it has been a long weekend for everyone, and you surely did enjoy the little company you had before heading home a little after midnight.

In terms of fitting in as GQ Korea's new reporter, it has been a thrilling ride learning about all of the entertainment biz that has been going on in the country. Since your forte was with celebrities, your head of department had assigned you the same, focusing on the rising K-Pop stars in the industry.

It has been a while since you kept up with Korean celebrities since you mainly focused on Western artists abroad for a couple of years. But as you kept up with the news and made sure to read the newspaper first thing every morning you came right in, you made sure that you have been kept up to date with all of the latest announcements and events that have been going on in the industry.

Today was a big day for you as Ms Kim had instructed you to head up to the top floor, where you would first meet up with the CEO for the very first time since joining the company as he would like to brief you through the details in regards to the celebrities that will be coming later in the day.

You thought it was probably some hotshot celeb for the CEO to personally guide you through each step regarding what or how you should deal with them. However, you weren’t too mad since you figured they probably did things differently here in Seoul.

As you finally reached the top floor, you were then escorted by whom you assumed to be the CEO’s personal assistant, who was already expecting your arrival as they kindly let your head department know that she was free to leave. The walk down the hallway towards the CEO’s office seemed a little daunting to you for some reason; perhaps it was also because you were meeting someone who is considered to be one of the famous people in the heart of Seoul—there’s a reason why GQ Korea is always on the top-selling markets.

As the assistant kindly knocked on the door and got a verbal cue from the other side, she took a step behind to let you move forward as you slowly turned the doorknob to enter the room.

Immediately, you notice how the entire office is decorated extravagantly, filled with tons of high-end decorations that suit the taste of the CEO himself. The wide, clear windows dominated most of the room, offering a panoramic cityscape view. A curated selection of artwork filled the walls, which added a little personal touch to the working space.

You didn’t realise that your mouth was wide open as you slowly took in the mesmerising view until you turned towards the desk, where the CEO was sitting on his chair with his back facing you, flipping through multiple documents in his hands.

As you slowly made your way towards him, your little footsteps made the CEO’s ears perk up, causing the man to stand up and finally turn to face you in person for the first time.

With that, your entire world seemed to pause for a moment.

What exactly was going on? There was no way this young man could be the CEO, especially when you were certain that he had left Seoul years ago and sworn that his chances of returning to his homeland would be close to zero. Your laptop in hand was slowly beginning to slip off before you were brought back to reality and quickly caught it before it eventually hit the ground.

That was when you finally muttered your first words since stepping into the CEO’s office.

“J-Juyeon…?”

It was pretty evident that the man himself was just as confused and shocked as you were; he practically stood there motionless, trying his best to make sense of the current situation.

“Y-Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“I should be the one asking you that,” you replied.

You were about to go haywire just from this interaction alone. It was hard enough for you to move on from what happened seven years ago, and it proved to be a lot harder than you thought when you came back a few weeks ago to see that all of the things that you’ve tried so hard to forget were now back in the comforts of your bedroom.

Ever since then, you had promised yourself that you wouldn’t want anything to do with Juyeon anymore, and you have decided to shut your heart regarding anything related to the man himself.

If only it were easier said than done.

Juyeon finally took his first step away from his desk as he slowly approached you, extending his hand as if he was craving your touch again. You could tell that he was desperate for a little physical contact, perhaps to prove that you really stood in front of him.

But you couldn’t, and you weren’t ready for any of that, so you backed off instead, giving him a clear signal that you weren’t on the same page as he was.

There was this evident sadness in his eyes, and he tried his best to hold back his tears as his eyes began to water.

“Y/N…I—”

“Miss L/N. You can address me that, Mr. Lee,” you bluntly replied before diverting your attention to the ground.

It was when Juyeon finally got himself together and straightened his posture before clearing his throat. “Very well, Miss L/N. I’ll quickly brief you on the events happening today, with the group of celebrities arriving in a couple of hours soon. Please, have a seat.”

“I hate him, I really do!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as you took the pint of beer in your hands before slamming it down onto the table. Your sister had to restrain you from causing a scene at the bar, trying to settle you down and handing you a glass of water to chug down your system.

Your sister had just recently came back to Seoul for a little vacation, and you immediately asked that she could keep you accompany down at the local izakaya restaurant that you often visited to let off some steam.

“Karma is really on your side huh, Y/N,” your sister teased.

“I-It’s not funny, sissy….” your voice began to slur, indicating that you were starting to get drunk at this point. “Why…of all people, why?! Why did it have to be him? As my boss! In my new workplace!”

“Look, it can’t be that bad. Who knows, maybe you might get another chance again with him.”

“That’s not the point, sissy….after what he has done to me? After all that I have done to try my best to move on from the past? This should not be happening to me at all!” Your voice broke as you began tearing up, causing your sister to pull you close into her embrace, slowly caressing your back to help soothe you a little.

Your sister was well aware of your history with Juyeon, especially when you’ve spent weeks, which eventually that turned into months of crying out to her over the phone since she was already studying abroad then, she knew how much the whole situation wrecked you badly, to the point that it has taken you months to start going out and meeting people outside of university eventually.

She was there when you were both younger, seeing how you developed a crush on him later and knowing you weren’t just childhood friends and had something way more than that. It was a shame that Juyeon left without telling you, and she would’ve gone to the airport to confront him about it if only she had been back in Seoul then. But deep down, she knew Juyeon as much as you did and knew that suddenly, something probably came up for him to leave the country like that.

As a matter of fact, your sister had always wished and rooted for you both to become a couple eventually; she had always been a firm believer of childhood friends to lovers anyway, especially when that was how she ended up with her current fiancé. Now that you both have reunited in the most unexpected way, she believes her theory about you both eventually having a second chance was stronger than ever before.

With that, she lifted her eyebrows as if she had just come up with a brilliant idea. “Say, little sis. What exactly are you up to at work tomorrow?”

You sniffled. “Umm…I guess I have a meeting with Juyeon to discuss the upcoming fashion show that is due to be set in a couple of months. Why do you ask?”

Your sister gave you a little smirk in return before cradling you like a baby again. “Oh, it was nothing. I’m sure you’ll have a fruitful discussion tomorrow.”

You dreaded coming to work today. The very first reason is that you woke up with a really bad hangover from last night, and you practically don’t remember much that has happened besides chugging down pints of beer from your system. It has been a while since you’ve drank this much, and most importantly, because you were upset over something. Otherwise, you were pretty much sober most of the time and always being the one to drag your co-workers home because they were far worse than you were.

And, of course, it was also because you hated the idea that you must come face-to-face with your so-called ex-childhood best friend again—this time, in an actual meeting. Well, in some ways, you were glad that it was only a meeting for a potentially massive event that the company had been known to host for years and that Juyeon would probably be able to distinguish between personal and work-life issues.

But still, you just weren’t ready to face him again, especially with the huge shock you’d received the day before. It was already hard enough for you to stay focused when Juyeon briefed you through your job scope and the meeting you would have for the day, trying your best not to let the tears drip down nor let the anger boil up.

However, you had no choice since you must also stay professional at your work. You just got back to Korea, and there was no way you would chicken out and move everything back to the UK again. Well, potentially, you could, but it wouldn’t be an ethical move to make.

So here you are, hugging your documents and laptop towards your chest, standing outside the meeting room. You had to take a few deep breaths before you could muster up the courage to turn the doorknob and enter the room.

Once you did, you noticed how the entire room was filled up, with most of your co-workers in their designated seats, sorting through the documents they would use for the meeting. You immediately diverted your attention towards the front where Juyeon was seated, and you hated how you had actually spent a good minute admiring his features.

He wore a simple beige coat over a white tee, paired with a pair of black slim pants with leather shoes. His black hair was styled all the way back, leaving a little strand of hair down on his forehead. He was busy flipping through his documents while setting up his laptop to project the PowerPoint slides for everyone to see.

You just hated how extremely good-looking he was right now and that there was a high chance that you wouldn’t concentrate on your work throughout the next hour.

And how you would actually want to run into his embrace and give him a little peck on the lips—

Wait, what?

As Juyeon finally lifted his head from the monitor and looked at everyone else in the room, it was a sign that the meeting was about to commence, and you quickly took the still available seat, the front seat.

Throughout the presentation, you tried your best to take in everything that Juyeon- well, your CEO, was trying to convey to his employees. It turns out that this upcoming fashion show would be one of the most crucial ones the company has ever done for years, especially now that all the big brands are willing to collaborate with GQ Korea and put out the best fashion show in the country.

It was quite a breathtaking look to see how Juyeon was passionate about his job, talking and explaining each detail to his employees carefully while making it enjoyable for everyone to learn or be part of. With that, you have noticed how every single employee in the room was constantly taking down details as quickly as lightning, making sure not to miss out on any small detail. There were moments when some would raise their hands to ask further questions, and Juyeon was more than happy to answer them, making the whole meeting seem less stressful but instead quite engaging in return.

There were times when you found yourself staring at him more than you should’ve, and every time he diverted his attention towards you, you would quickly duck your head down to look back at your laptop as if you were busy typing away on your notes.

Time seemed to have passed quickly as Juyeon finally wrapped up the meeting and let everyone off. In fact, the meeting ended right at the dot, and it was just past noon, meaning it was lunchtime for all employees. Everyone was quick to dash through the door, their stomach grumbling after using up all of the energy for the meeting. For you, you decided to pack up your belongings at your own pace, knowing that you would be spending your lunch back at your cubicle with the little bento box your mother had packed for you this morning.

As you are about to head straight for the door, the familiar voice stops you in your tracks, making you turn your head back to face the man himself.

“Miss L/N, I would like to have a word with you.”

Oh, god. It’s here.

Mentally, you were cursing out all the vulgar words you knew at the back of your mind as you slowly approached your CEO, trying your best not to let out the croak in your voice.

“Y-Yes, may I help you, Mr Lee?”

“There is a place that I have to pay a short visit, and I would like you to keep me company.”

Whenever an employer or the CEO would address their employees to keep them company as they pay a visit to a certain location, it usually meant that it was to meet up with a client or to survey certain products or places that could significantly be crucial for the company’s success.

But here you were, sitting in one of the fancy cafes that wasn’t far from the office, having lunch with your CEO, who was sitting in front of you.

Juyeon said nothing along the way as he brought you to the cafe, insisting that you sit down and order from the menu with no questions asked. As awkward as it was, you were about to deny his request before he looked straight down towards the menu, not even glancing at you.

You figured this was probably part of the job, and there was no way you would deny your CEO’s request right here and then, especially when it was working hours and everything was strictly business.

Once both of you have made your orders to the waitress that just passed by a minute ago, you diverted your attention towards the tablecloth, not wanting to look straight at Juyeon. However, his deep voice caught your attention, and you lifted your head back up after hearing the words you had wanted to say for the past seven years.

“I think it’s about time I told you the truth, Y/N.”

Oh, he called you by your name.

As you focus your attention right on him, you can see the sadness in his eyes once more, just like how it was back when you first encountered him in his office the day before.

“Umm…with due respect Mr Lee—”

“Juyeon is fine. We’re outside of work, Y/N. I would appreciate it if you could talk to me like we used to, and I will do the same,” he responded, slowly resting his arms on the tablecloth as if he were leaning slightly closer to you.

With that you took a significantly big gulp, knowing that the day you longed for was finally here. You were about to get the answers you desperately needed to know, but at the same time, you weren’t so sure if you wanted to know the truth right now, especially with all of the things that you have gone through trying your best to take him out of your life completely.

“Will you please give me a chance to listen to what I have to say?” He pleaded, looking at you with a desperate look in his eyes.

Your gut and mind were trying to tell you that you have done your best to completely eliminate him in your life for the past seven years. Would you give up easily and open your enclosed heart just like that? After all of the hard work that you have done?

Say no, Y/N. You have gotten over the guy. It’s all over between you two—

“Yeah. Go on.”

Goddammit, Y/N.

Immediately, his eyes lit up upon your words, and his shoulders slumped down a little, indicating that he has relaxed a bit.

“Oh, thank god, Y/N. I guess you were still the same old Y/N that I remembered—”

“You said we’re not employers and employees now, so I’d say cut to the chase with what you have to say while you can, Juyeon,” you bluntly replied as you crossed your arms around you.

In return, Juyeon gave you a little weak smile and a sigh before he eventually diverted his full attention to you.

“Remember when we got separated back in high school? During our graduation day, you—”

“You left me behind, Juyeon.”

“I didn’t have a choice back then, Y/N. But now I’m here to tell you everything. You have no idea how our stomach dropped when my father came home and told us that his company was about to go bankrupt, and we were on the verge of losing everything.”

So that was what happened.

“And how it was also the day my mother found out that she had cancer and her chances of recovery were lower than expected.”

“J-Juyeon…w-why didn’t you tell me all of this?”

“I wanted to. I really wanted to so badly, Y/N. Because you’re my best friend, and you deserve to know everything. But I just didn’t know how to, and I was afraid of what might happen, and I don’t want to put the pressure on you.”

“W-Where are they now, then?”

Juyeon had to take in a big breath before choosing his following words wisely, knowing it must’ve been hard to even talk about it publicly. “Mom became bedridden, and she’s still receiving treatment in one of the hospitals back in the States. Dad is currently running a small little shop near the hospital along with my little brother.”

“Then, why did you come back here?”

“I came back because starting a proper company there was tough. I figured there might be a slight chance things could work out here in Seoul. With the remaining funds we had, I eventually begged my dad to give his final trust in me as I found a way to make things work out. Luckily, we had some acquaintances back here, and they helped me get into one of the prestigious universities and eventually landed me a job here at GQ Korea. I started as a normal employee before I eventually became their CEO a year prior.”

It was then you noticed a single teardrop on the verge of dripping down his face from the corners of his eyes. Naturally and unbeknownst to you, your hand reached for the tissues placed neatly on the table, and you leaned in to wipe away that single teardrop.

Only then did you both realise what you were doing, and that was when your eyes widened, and you were about to prop down back to your seat.

That was until Juyeon grabbed your wrist, not wanting to let you go.

“This teardrop is nothing, Y/N. I’m so sorry you have to see this side of me. It’s not very cool, I guess,” he chuckled, trying his best to lighten up the mood a bit.

As soon as he says those words, your other free hand eventually finds itself on Juyeon’s shoulders, causing the male’s eyes to widen this time before you finally speak out the words that you have always wanted to tell straight to his face all those years ago.

“Juyeon, you need to start learning to put yourself before others. And I really mean it.”

“Y/N, I—”

“No buts. Even after all these years, you’re still the same as before, always prioritising others before your own. As much as you are the most kind-hearted soul I’ve ever seen, you need to start loving and giving yourself some credit,” you replied, adding a little pressure onto your grip on his shoulders.

With that, none of you said a word for a good couple of seconds, and you both just spent the entire time staring into each other's eyes as if you were conveying your messages non-verbally. That was until Juyeon finally decided to break the tension off by smiling at you, a genuine one you had consistently grown to love back then.

“So, am I back in your good graces now, princess?”

You were finally brought back to your senses, and you quickly removed both hands from him and sat down swiftly back on your chair, ducking your head down while giving a slight pout.

Juyeon missed this sight of you and was absolutely admiring the whole situation that unfolded before him. Just then, both of your meals arrived, and the same waitress from before gently placed each of your respective ones in front of you. Juyeon then gently placed the cutlery in front of you.

“Dig in,” he mentioned before whipping out the napkin and placing it right on his lap, before going in with his cutlery to cut through his steak.

In return, you swiftly picked up yours and roughly cut through your freshly cooked breaded cod fish.

“No one calls a normal friend princess, Lee freaking Juyeon,” you mumbled.

Just when you thought that would be the only time you would actually spend some time alone with Juyeon, it turns out the male had perceived that you both were back just the way you were when you were kids.

Since that day, Juyeon would actually make his way out to invite you often to join lunch with him at the same cafe, usually ordering a different dish from the wide selection of food on the menu. What Juyeon loved the most about the place was the ambience and good coffee, and he would always be seen ordering a big jumbo-sized cup of iced latte to bring back to his office to help get through the rest of the day.

You, on the other hand, were often stuck with more or less the same few dishes that you’ve tried, and you, too, would order your usual iced americano back to the office once you both were done with the meal.

At first, you have always tried your best to avoid having contact with him; that first lunch date was just a typical day, as you would try to convince yourself. But whenever Juyeon gets a little break out from the office, he would either send you a personal email or sometimes ask his personal assistant to come down to your department to inform you to wait for the man down at the lobby at noon.

You obviously could do your very best to come up with excuses to let him know that you’re busy with something or you already have plans to eat with your co-workers, but it seemed that the heart does what it wants, and it does not align with the signals that your brain is trying to tell you; which is to avoid and cut off this whole friendship for good.

So you were back to being the giddy seventeen-year-old little girl who often felt excited whenever you spent time with your childhood friend. Hence, every time you were taking the very last escalator down to the lobby, you would often use that little time to admire the way Juyeon would always lean against one of the pillars while swiping through his phone with one hand and keeping the other one inside the pocket of his coat.

But you did not want to admit it just yet, so you would constantly remind yourself that he’s only back for a while; it wouldn’t be so easy to open up your ice-cold heart again.

That was until today.

Just a few days prior, Juyeon had given you a ticket to visit this huge Christmas market in the town centre. At first, you stared at the paper blankly, thinking it was all a joke and he couldn’t have gone with you. But the male made it clear that he invited you to come along, which would be the two of you together.

Your heart was bouncing so fast that you were afraid it would eventually pop out of your chest as you slowly approached where you both were supposed to meet. You figured it best that you arrived twenty minutes earlier to compose yourself and try to understand your situation.

As you paced back and forth for god knows how long, you finally heard your name being called out from the far distance, and you perked your head up to see that Juyeon was waving his hands and running towards you like he used to back when he was a kid.

Once he finally stopped right in front of you, he began panting heavily to the point you were genuinely worried if this man was actually alright.

“Woah, what the hell happened to you? You seemed like you were escaping from a monster or something,” you joked.

“N-No…I went to get this for you…” Juyeon then hands you a brown paper bag, and you accept it while being all confused.

“Open it, Y/N. Have a look at what’s inside,” he insisted before resting both hands on his hips.

While giving Juyeon a weird look, you finally peeped into the bag and extended your arm into the brown bag before you finally felt something soft against your palms and eventually pulled whatever it was out.

Your eyes widened when you saw what it was.

“J-Juyeon…this…”

“Remember way back in high school; we promised each other that we would want to visit the Christmas markets, and how badly did you want this soft alpaca plushie that was way too expensive for neither of us to get our hands on? Yeah, I actually got it before the store closed like minutes ago.”

He remembered.

You have always been vocal about wanting this plushie for years, and there was no way your parents were buying it for you, claiming that it was way too expensive (which it was since it was part of a collaboration with one of the high-end fashion companies) and that you wouldn’t have a proper use for it. Back then, Juyeon couldn’t do anything but reassure you that one day, your wish would definitely come true while always giving you pinky promises.

And now, you were finally receiving your biggest Christmas wishlist item as an adult, and you couldn’t be much happier.

You laughed. “Juyeon, you do realise that I’m not a child anymore, right?”

“Who says plushies are only meant for young children? Why can’t adults have their collection? I’ll tell you I have a Build-A-Bear in my bedroom.”

“You must be joking.”

“Mark my words, Y/N.”

Eventually, you both started laughing out loud before you hugged the plushie close to you, activating the heating function in the toy to keep yourself warm; that was the main purpose that made you want to purchase this product long ago.

“Thank you, Juyeon.”

“Well, instead of thanking me, why don’t you keep me company for the night as we explore this Christmas market together?”

You smiled. “With pleasure.”

“Oh, Juyeon~ Have I ever told you how much I’ve admired your good looks? I’d like to think that your family genes are something else.”

After an hour or two of walking through the entire Christmas market and having too much fun going to each stall and trying out the different activities and food, you eventually stumbled upon one located towards the furthest end and sold various eggnog drinks. You have never tried this particular alcoholic beverage before; you were mostly used to the beers that you often get back in the pubs in London. However, Juyeon insisted that you give it a go especially for the Christmas season, and he eventually bought both of you a mug.

The initial taste seemed a bit off to you, but once the alcohol started kicking in, you eventually began to chug the whole liquid down as if it were nobody’s business. After some time, one mug of eggnog began turning into two, and then three, and finally, you were pretty sure that you were on your fifth mug by now.

That was when Juyeon realised that he should’ve stopped you by your second or third mug because now you were barely walking properly without his aid, and your speech began to slur as he linked your arms over his shoulders, trying his best to support you while walking you back home.

You both had to take the subway trains to head back to your apartment and during the entire time, you were clingy with your childhood friend, often wrapping your arms around him and giving him a tight squeeze while mumbling incoherent words. You caught the attention of all passengers and passersby, but Juyeon could only smile at how you looked right now.

He had never seen you drunk before, and this was a whole new experience for him. But he wasn’t too mad that you reminded him so much of your younger self; it was as if he was witnessing the seven-year-old you again in the present day.

After walking from the subway and, eventually, towards your front door to your apartment, Juyeon was about to take you up towards the elevator until you stopped him in his tracks.

“No Juyeon~ why are you leaving me so early? We still have so much more to see in the market!”

He smiled. “Y/N, I think it’s time for you to head home to get some rest.”

“But I don’t wanna~”

With that, Juyeon grabbed hold of both your shoulders as he bent down to be on the same eye level as you, trying his best to talk to you in your drunken stage.

“Y/N, I’ll see you tomorrow, hmm? We’ve had loads of fun today, and besides, your mom and sister would be worried sick about you at this late hour.”

Immediately, you lifted your pinky at him, which caused the male to stare at you blankly. “Pinky promise that I get to see you tomorrow, Juyeon-ie?”

Oh, how insanely adorable you were to Juyeon right now.

He chuckled before linking his pinky with yours, shaking it left and right slightly as if to seal the agreement. “I promise, we’ll see each other in the office first thing tomorrow morning.”

With the final pinky shake, Juyeon guided you towards the elevator and pressed the button. As you both waited for the elevator to come down to the ground floor, you suddenly broke off the silence, and Juyeon had to blink twice to know he wasn’t hearing things wrong.

“I’ve always liked you Juyeon…even after all these years…I never stopped loving you…” you sobbed.

Your nose was now sniffling, and you closed your eyes to let the tears drip down, not caring what Juyeon would think about all this. You were done trying to hold it back for so long, and you needed to let the burden that you’ve held onto for years finally let loose, and well, you were drunk at this point, so you couldn’t really control the words that slipped out from your mouth.

“Why did you leave me just like that…did you know how much pain it has caused…and how hard I’ve tried to forget every single thing about you? I even threw away all of the pictures and toys we’d had together because the flashbacks of memories would often play in my mind upon seeing them,” you were now crying, and you began to raise your voice a little.

“Why, Juyeon, WHY!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, and immediately you burst out crying, plopping straight down onto the concrete floor. You hated how the alcohol wasn’t making you think straight and that you were feeling a roller coaster of emotions right now.

Just let it out, Y/N. You’ve suffered long enough—

Immediately, a warm pair of arms wrapped around you, and a hand gently pushed your head down to let you rest on the crook of their neck. You finally glanced up to see that it was Juyeon, holding you tight and resting his chin on the top of your head.

As much as you want to push yourself away from him, you can’t. You couldn’t explain why, and you have even made a pact to yourself that you wouldn’t want anything associated with him anymore.

But why did the saying the heart wants what it wants have to be so accurate?

You hated it, hated how you have always let your emotions take full control over your mind, not making you think straight, and often going against your plans. In fact, your heart ached so badly, and it was the same feeling that you felt seven years ago, right when Juyeon left you alone as he hopped onto his vehicle.

The only thing you could do right now was to let the stream of tears pour down and cry out to your heart’s content. You felt weak, and you could do nothing to push him away.

Juyeon couldn’t blame you, though, because how could he? Especially when he was the one who said nothing all those years ago. Now, he was seeing with his own eyes how much pain and trouble it has cost you, turning you into a vulnerable little petite girl who was crying her heart out in his arms.

With that, he moved his lips down to plant a little kiss on your head and eventually closed his eyes as your cries filled up his eyedrums.

“I’ll make it work, Y/N. I promise you that I’ll make things work this time.”

“Oh, good fucking hell.”

You were sitting on your work desk, bringing your hands to cover up your face. It was an absolute nightmare to hear from your sister about what happened the night before—how you got drunk and caused a little scene in public, which made everyone turn their attention towards you, how Juyeon was the one who brought you all the way back home, how you had a breakdown in front of him to the point you eventually fell asleep after crying your eyes out to the point he had to physically gave you a piggyback up to your front door and assisted your sister to plop you down on your bed.

If there was a nearby cliff near your workplace, you would do anything to ditch work and actually head straight up there to jump off from the embarrassment.

You were already not having a good time reuniting with Juyeon, let alone trying to sort your emotions out while seeing him at work every day and that he was your boss. But to confess your deepest thoughts while being vulnerable and drunk in front of him? That was not written anywhere in your books.

As you were spending your entire lunch break groaning over what happened last night, you immediately received a call from your desk telephone, and you quickly composed yourself before picking the phone up.

“Y-Yes, hello? This is L/N from the editorial department; how may I assist you for the day?”

“Good afternoon, Miss L/N. Please report to the CEO’s office immediately whenever you can.”

Oh, Jesus take the wheel.

The entire walk up to the CEO’s office was nerve-wracking; it was as if you were being sent to detention at the principal’s office because you messed up really badly. So many thoughts ran through your mind, thinking about how to apologise to Juyeon for the scene you had caused the day prior.

Once you walked into his office, you tried your best to devise the best phrase to start the conversation, but it seemed that Juyeon beat you to it, immediately handing you a red ginseng hangover drink.

You reluctantly accepted it while mumbling a soft ‘thank you’ before he insisted that you drink it immediately before him. Once you were done, he took the bottle away and tossed it straight into the bin, directly briefing you about the upcoming fashion show, now only a month away.

Now that it was back to business and you were no longer childhood friends, you tried your best to keep your composure as you listened to all of the details he was going through one by one with you.

Eventually, he decided to bring you along to meet up with one of the CEOs of the high-end brands on a trip to Seoul to discuss the plan in person further. Apparently, you have met with the CEO of Fendi, and it’s one of the brands that have been associated with GQ Korea for decades now. Somehow, Juyeon has gotten pretty close with the famous man himself over the years.

All of you met up in the famous Four Seasons Hotel for a pretty luxurious high-tea session while discussing the whole fashion show. It was mostly just Juyeon conversing with the CEO himself; you were mainly there to take down all the essential notes that both parties spoke.

Usually, it would have been his personal assistant job, but he insisted that you come along this time, saying it was part of your training. To be completely honest, you weren’t sure if Juyeon was the one mixing up between work and personal life issues at this point. All you wanted to do was to pray that this meeting gets over and done with quickly so that you could head back towards the comforts of your cubicle in the office and not face Juyeon for a while.

After an hour or so, it seemed as if the meeting was wrapped, and both parties finally parted ways for now, causing you to head straight back to Juyeon’s vehicle. Many people would think most CEOs would have their chauffeur, but Juyeon insisted that he always preferred to drive alone.

He was still the chatterbox that you have always remembered back in the day, how we would often come up with any possible topic that would keep you entertained; you both could talk for days back then only if both of your families didn’t stop you from heading back home for meal time.

There was only one problem this time: you were still troubled by what had happened the day before, and it was hard enough to even join Juyeon for this meeting with the CEO of Fendi in the first place. Now that both of you were alone in the car, things were far more awkward than they already were. Juyeon never touched on the topic from last night, but still, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him in the face.

Just when you thought Juyeon was about to take the left turn to head back towards the office, he took the other lane instead and drove towards the opposite direction.

“Juyeon, the office is the other way—”

“Let’s go somewhere, Y/N. Treat this as a little gift of stepping out of office hours for a bit. You’ll still get paid, though; don’t worry. I’ll make sure to inform your head department about your absence.”

What on earth is going through your mind, Juyeon?

It has been a few minutes since you have physically pressed yourself against the tank, slowly admiring various species swimming about minding their own business.

Apparently, you both have arrived at the COEX Aquarium, known for homing a large variety of rare species of aquatic animals and typically the best place for school trips, holidays, and even as a date.

Wait, scratch that last one—

“Didn’t you always say how coming here has been on your bucket list for the longest time?” Juyeon questioned you as he slowly walked up towards where you were from behind, slipping both of his hands into his cloak as he, too, began admiring the beauty in front of him.

That was when you finally diverted your attention to his face for the first time since hopping into his car this morning to head to the hotel. You were upset at yourself with how the feelings were the same as before: his pretty sculpted facial features, how good-looking he actually was, and how he could do the bare minimum, yet you would still swoon over the man himself.

With all that has happened lately, something told you this was more than friend behaviour. Sure, Juyeon might be trying his best to patch up this whole relationship you once had, taking you to places and recreating new memories with one another, but you weren’t sure if Juyeon felt the same way as you did.

That deep feeling within the pit of your stomach made you feel uncomfortable, and it was about time you finally confronted him about the one question that had pondered at the back of your mind for the longest time.

If both of you wanted to continue whatever was happening between you, you needed to get the specific answer first.

And it has to be now.

“Juyeon, can I ask you something?”

He hummed. “Yeah, go ahead.”

With that, you turned your entire body facing him and took a deep breath to figure out the right words to convey your feelings for the man himself. “I meant what I said the night before.”

That alone was enough to get his full attention, as he was now slowly turning himself fully towards you as if he was staring straight into your soul. You wanted to chicken out so badly and tell him it was nothing, and you both could just continue with the silence. But you have already come so far, and you know that this will only continue to haunt you for as long as you live if you aren’t going to address it now.

So you mustered up every bit of courage left within you, and opened your mouth again.

“I never stopped loving you, Juyeon. Even though we have lost contact for so many years, I never once stop thinking about you every single day. As much as I’ve tried so hard to forget about you, hell, I threw everything that reminded me of you into the dumpster or boxes and kept them deep somewhere where I wouldn’t even think about searching for it ever again, but to no avail.”

Your body began to tremble as you tried to calm yourself down by playing with your fingers. “I couldn’t, Juyeon. Every time I thought I have succeeded in getting rid of you from my life for good, the thought of you just somehow finds its way to creep back up in my mind.”

“I have no idea if karma sent me back here to Seoul, especially when my career was doing well in London. Imagine coming back and discovering that my new employer is someone I’ve tried so hard to forget about? The mixed emotions I felt then were insufferable.”

As you began to speak more, tears started welling up in your eyes, causing your heartbeat to rise rapidly. But you decided to press on and choke back on your tears.

“With all that you have done for me for the past weeks and months, I truly have no idea what on earth you are trying to prove to me, Lee Juyeon. Are you trying to fix our broken friendship? Or is it something more? What exactly are you even planning to do, Juyeon?”

Finally, you took a few steps closer until you were inches away from him.

“Be honest with me now, Juyeon. What exactly am I to you?”

There was this tense moment between you two, and neither of you said a word to one another. You were looking straight at your childhood friend with red, puffy eyes, and his eyes were widened, looking at you and trying his best to take in everything you’d said.

Something tells you that it was best not to hear about Juyeon’s opinions at all for the fear of rejection once more. If you had the power to dissect his mind to determine his thoughts and feelings about all of this, you would. Yet, you were still afraid of what might happen next.

As you wait for his response, you slowly examine how his shoulders began to slump, and eventually he tries his best to talk some sense into you.

“Y/N, I—”

“Ah! It’s Juyeon-ie!”

The both of you immediately darted your head towards where the voice was coming from, and that was when you noticed a female running towards Juyeon while waving her hands, and a rather old man accompanied her.

Who could it be?

“Saeran? And Uncle Lee? What are you two doing here?” Juyeon questioned as the two individuals made their way towards you. It was also then they both noticed your presence and the soft-spoken young lady was the one who broke the ice.

“You must be?”

“O-Oh, I umm—”

“She’s Y/N; she used to be my neighbour back in the days when I was still living in Seoul.”

Just a neighbour, huh?

“Ah, Y/N!” The young female extended her hand for a little handshake, in which you awkwardly return the favour. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person finally! Juyeon has spoken a lot about you.”

Before you could even give a reply, it seemed that the older man whom you now know was his uncle, or rather, perceived that he was the one who managed to help Juyeon get a new start in life back here in Seoul, finally spoke and diverted Juyeon’s attention back to what they were here for in the first place.

“We had made a little appointment this afternoon, don’t you remember, Juyeon?”

“Oh, yes! I’m so sorry. It must’ve completely slipped my mind since I have been pretty caught up with work lately,” Juyeon apologised while slightly bowing towards his uncle.

“Not at all, Juyeon. I’m sure you must’ve been pretty busy with-” his uncle then diverts his attention towards you. “-a lot of things.”

You definitely felt way too uncomfortable at the moment, and you needed to get out of the aquarium right this second if you did not wish to be suffocated by all of the tension in the air.

Immediately, you gently removed your hands from the young female and quickly made a ninety-degree bow towards all of them.

“My humble apologies, it seems that I have disrupted an important meeting. I shall take my leave now.”

As soon as you turned your heel towards the other direction, you suddenly felt a pair of hands grab your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Y/N! Wait, I’ll drive you back—”

“No, it’s fine,” you tried your best to smile at him. “I’ll just take the train located right outside the aquarium. Have a good day.”

You instantly slip your hands off his grip and dash straight towards the front door, trying your best not to look back and ignore the tears dripping down your face as you walk down the steps towards the subway.

It was now week two of cutting off all contact with Juyeon. It hadn’t been easy for you both at work and personally. In fact, you haven’t been doing great at all. It was as if you had turned into a living zombie, often feeling rather emotionless and drowning yourself in paperwork and avoiding contact with another except for your head of department.

Since Juyeon was still your employer and CEO, he has definitely tried all means of contacting you, asking to see if you were doing okay or trying to get you up to his office to talk about the fashion show, or rather, to talk things out. But every single time, you would find ways to decline his request as best as possible while respecting him as your boss first and foremost.

After a week of declining his invitations, his messages and calls eventually stopped coming a week ago; it was as if he had completely vanished for a little while. From what you have heard, it seemed that he had some urgent matters that he had to deal with, causing him to leave the office into the hands of his assistant for now.

It was finally a little breather for you since you didn’t have to put on this facade for the time being, letting you let loose for a bit. Going through sleepless nights throughout the past couple of weeks definitely has taken a toll on your mental well-being.

You told yourself you needed to hold it all in for another week. Once this whole fashion show is done, you will get your well-deserved vacation off work for one week.

It’ll be alright. Things will definitely work out in one way or another, Y/N.

It was finally the day for the long-awaited fashion show hosted by GQ Korea and the collaboration among famous brands around the globe. A swarm of people marched into the rented convention hall, filling the entire space within minutes.

You and your co-workers were busy getting everything organised and ensuring everything was in place. Since you were in the editorial department, you have been going about talking to all of the big figureheads from each respective brand, mostly just breaking the ice as well as interviewing them so that you have your necessary notes to draft out the proposal for the upcoming magazine.

Time passed quickly and it was time for the show to begin. As you sat down on one of the chairs, you made your way towards the far end corners of the hall, getting ready your notepad and trusty blue ballpoint pen.

As the light began to dim, Juyeon eventually made his way up on stage with a microphone, giving the guests a warm welcome and a little opening speech before the models began their runway walk. Seeing the man himself again was a bittersweet moment for you. As much as you wanted nothing more associated with him, your eyes just couldn’t seem to turn away from him.

It did not help that he was dressed up in a black tuxedo, with his hair styled up with his usual one strand on his forehead. He looked strikingly handsome, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he managed to woo almost everyone in the audience tonight. The way he presented himself was truly magnificent, and you could see why he was able to rise to the ranks of being a CEO at such a young age.

Tears began welling up in your eyes again, but you tried your very best to hold them back and mentally cursed at yourself, thinking that this was all professional work now and that there was no room for any personal matters for the night.

Once he made his desired speech, he eventually came down from the stage and sat at one of the front row seats, and that was where you could clearly see that the very same girl from the aquarium sat right next to him, along with his uncle and personal assistant. It shouldn’t bother you since they are practically family to him. It was none of your business, so why couldn’t you take your eyes off them?

Or rather, with him and the young lady who was clearly having fun whispering into each other’s ears.

It has nothing to do with me.

You constantly reminded yourself that whenever you tried to spare a glance at them, all while you were taking down notes from the show. It was definitely a challenge trying to stay focused, and there were a couple of times when you needed to close your eyes for a bit and take a few deep breaths to proceed with your work.

The show finished smoothly, and the audience responded with a standing ovation. You definitely felt a sense of accomplishment from that, too, given that all of your hard work over the past months had finally paid off.

The event wouldn’t have been complete without an after-party, so here you were in the hall next door—with all of the guests, models, and even staff alike having loads of fun chatting about with a glass of champagne in hand. Eventually, the DJ that was hired began to blast out a wide selection of music, indicating that whoever felt comfortable hitting up the dance floor was able to do so.

You smiled as you saw a couple of your close co-workers pull up some moves on the dance floor; it reminded you of loads of your time back in the UK—going to the local pubs and just having the time of your life drinking and partying with your friends.

Just as you were lost in thought, you suddenly felt a little tap on your shoulder, and you turned around to see that Juyeon’s assistant insisted that someone wanted to see you in person.

You didn’t think much of it since you already had a little bit of alcohol in your system, so when you finally realised who was the one who wanted to see you, panic began to rush through your veins, and you tried your best to make sense of the situation.

“Mr Lee? Is something the matter?”

You did not need to see the older male again, especially when he gave you a not-so-good first impression back at the aquarium. However, you had no reason to devise an excuse to leave; he was much superior to you anyway.

“Why, good evening, Miss L/N. I hope you are enjoying the party so far, and congratulations on the job well done. I must say Juyeon always excels in his work, no matter what obstacles he encounters along the way.”

The only thing you could do was flash a little smile back at him, as much as it made you uncomfortable. In the back of your mind, you have dozens of questions running through your mind, thinking about in what manner his uncle has any business with you.

Eventually, he began speaking as if he was chanting through a book, giving you a whole load of information that was a little bit too much to take in at the moment.

“It seems that Seoul life has been too tedious for you, don’t you think? Have you ever wondered about transferring back to London? Perhaps it would be a much better place for you to reside in.”

“Umm, with all due respect, sir, how did you know about my background—”

“Oh, I have always kept an eye on you; you were Juyeon’s childhood friend, after all.”

Keyword. “Were”

“With that being said, I have read a couple of your articles before from the London Mail, and I must say, they are actually quite extraordinary.”

“W-Why, t-thank you, Mr Lee. I really do appreciate them—”

“Speaking of transferring, the CEO for Fendi has actually taken quite a liking to you and your work. Even throughout the whole fashion show back there, he has been talking on and on about you, saying how you would prove to be a fruitful addition to his company.”

Just like that, Mr Lee began to step forward to hand you a little sticky note, which clearly had a number written on it.

“If you ever change your mind, give me a call. Besides, I’m sure you already know the answer deep within your heart. I will be waiting,” Mr Lee responded with a smug before entering back into the hall.

You stared back down at the note and eventually began thinking about what his uncle said prior. Suddenly, you started feeling conflicted, thinking this was the right place to belong. But it could also be his way of trying to brainwash you; you’re pretty sure you felt like a menace in his eyes.

You decided you needed some fresh air to clear your thoughts for a bit, so you headed out towards the balcony right up the stairs. You figured that an open-air rooftop seemed perfect for some alone time.

If only you were the only one who was planning to use the same exact spot that is.

Right when you reached the door that was ajar on the rooftop, you immediately recognised the two people standing before you, the female leaning in to give your childhood friend a peck on the lips.

You stand there motionless, and immediately, your blood starts to boil, something you haven’t felt in a while. The glass of champagne then drops towards the ground, and the shattered noises make the two turn their attention towards you.

It all felt like a sudden pause like time had stopped for a few moments. The both of you were staring deep into each other’s eyes, not knowing what to do or how to respond. But then, Juyeon eventually spoke to break the silence.

Before you could ever hear what he had to say, you were already dashing down the stairs, not caring that you had missed a couple of steps and that there were a few instances where you felt like you were about to trip and fall straight down back where you came from.

Not even wanting to let your co-workers know about anything, you quickly dashed through the front gates, running through the now gloomy skies that were bound to have a heavy downpour within a few minutes.

You should’ve remembered that Juyeon was the basketball team leader back in high school for a reason; no matter how fast you ran through the streets, he eventually caught you and yanked you back towards him, causing you to press up against his chest.

“Let me go! Let me go—”

“Y/N! Please! Let us just talk things out.”

You used up all of your strength and pushed him away as hard as you could before you began raising your voice back at him. “Talk? Don’t be ridiculous. You have done more than enough, and I have seen enough.”

“Y/N, no. You don’t understand—”

“What else do I have to understand!?!? You have done more than enough to shatter me over and over again, Juyeon! And to think I was dumb enough actually to think we could work things out again!” You screamed.

“Y/N…please…just calm down and listen to what I have to say…” Juyeon was now practically begging you, begging you just to stop.

“You clearly don’t understand the pain that I’ve gone through, Juyeon. You weren’t there to witness or experience it anyway! Why did we even become friends in the first place, huh!?!?”

God, cat’s out of the bag.

That last sentence was definitely not meant to be said at all; it was one of your deepest, darkest thoughts that you have sworn that nobody should ever find out about, especially when it is directed towards the person who stood before you.

“I hate you, Juyeon…I really do…for all of the pain that you have caused me…” you were now sobbing like a child, which pained Juyeon so much seeing how you were now.

With that, a loud thunder resonated throughout the city, and a heavy downpour began pouring down from the skies. The both of you were now soaked, and you mustered up the courage to say your final words to him as the tears began mixing with the rain.

“Please…I beg of you…just stop looking for me…or even talk to me at all…just leave me alone…that’s the last thing I will ask of you…”

“I don’t want anything to do with you no more.”

You slowly began backing away, and when you reached a good amount of distance, you turned your heel and began running away into the shadows, not sparing a final glance at your childhood friend who stood at the same spot under the pouring rain.

This is my final goodbye, Juyeon.

If you thought the whole week of you being a walking zombie in the office was terrible enough, clearly, nobody was prepared for the current state that you were in. You locked yourself up in your room and refused to see anybody, even your mother and sister.

You would constantly lay in bed, tossing and turning, even though it was hard to fall asleep. Since you avoided contact with your family members, there was nothing much they could do but place a tray filled with your meals and dishes in front of your door, waiting for you to eventually open up during times when you actually felt hungry and took them into your room to savour them all on your own.

You didn’t need anyone or anything now; you craved alone time and peace.

As you curl up in bed, sometimes even at the corners of your room, your eyes would often dart towards the sticky note handed to you by his uncle. So many times you have thought about it: what if life would’ve been better abroad and coming back to Seoul was truly a grave mistake that you have made? What if this whole decision was actually an awakening moment for you to realise that this is not where you should belong?

Days went back and eventually, it became a week. There were only a few days left before you returned to the office for work. The longer you kept staring at the note, the more motivated you were to take the risk and start again.

Every time you were reminded of what happened that very fateful night, you rationalised that maybe what Mr Lee said was true after all. Perhaps Seoul is really not your place to belong.

As the clock ticked, your desire to leave everything behind felt stronger.

You waited until the clock finally struck noon for you to finally stand up with your phone in hand, punching each number into the dial pad and bringing it to your ear.

Once the ringing eventually got through and you were met with a voice on the other end of the line, you took a deep breath before muttering the words you have been reluctant about all this while.

“I’ll take up the offer.”

“For the very last time sissy, I promise I will be fine,” you spoke through your headphones as you were on a video call with your sister, who was back home at your apartment.

“You have never done something so impulsive before, and given that you made this whole decision during your darkest hours? I highly doubt that you’re okay, Miss Y/N.”

“Well, I can assure you that the darkest hours are gone, and I’m now free and much happier. I can work with Fendi!”

Your sister sighed through the phone. “Working with big brands is one thing; what about your physical and mental well-being?”

“Rome doesn’t sound too bad to me, and besides, living in the UK for a couple of years has definitely given me the experience I’ve needed to survive back in the EU again.”

“Fine. Just…be careful, okay? Give mom and I a call once you’ve touched down.”

You gave a little flying kiss through the phone. “Don’t worry, I will.”

After waving goodbye on both sides, you clicked the red end call button and leaned back onto the chair you had been sitting on for the past hour. It was definitely a shocker to you that Fendi was willing to accept you immediately without having to go through any sort of significant interviews and that they were kind enough to even provide accommodations for you. At the same time, you work for them under a contract of two years. Frankly, it was a good deal and a steal.

You slowly stare into the digital clock on the big screen, which eventually becomes an announcement.

“All passengers bound for Rome, Italy, please head to gate 4B and be ready for boarding!”

Instantly, almost all of the people around you began standing and lining up as if they needed to be the first to get on board. You have always disliked and never understood why the rush and pushing against one another trying to fight for the first slot, so you often just sat back and relaxed until only a couple of folks left to board the plane.

Time went by quickly, and thirty minutes have passed since then. Now, only a handful of passengers are left to board. That was when it was your cue to get up and sling your backpack onto your back.

As you slowly walked towards the counter to let the flight attendants scan your passport and let you through the gates, you felt a sudden tap on your shoulders, causing you to turn behind to see who it was.

You didn’t have much time to respond until you were pulled in for a tight embrace; that familiar cologne was enough to make the tears well up in your eyes again.

“J-Juyeon…” your voice muffled.

“Stop. Let me just…let me do the talking this time. Please.”

You would have definitely fought back and started pushing him away once more, but it seems that you were either too taken aback or lost all of the energy throughout the past week to do so. Instead, you just stood there motionless in his arms.

“Y/N, I know it would be horrible for me to ask for forgiveness because I definitely do not deserve any of that after what I have put you through. Or even for another chance because you clearly gave me one, and it was my fault for not appreciating nor cherishing the moment when it happened,” he began stroking your head, his fingers running through your long, silky, soft hair.

“But one thing is for sure: I will not let you go this time. This time, I am going to hold you so tight that there’s no room for you to escape; I’ll make sure that you will forever be safe and sound in my arms, and I will be the one who is going to bring you joy instead of pain and tears.”

He then bends down to give you a little kiss on your forehead. “You mean a lot to me, Y/N. And I’d like to think you are more than just a friend; you’re my other half. Without you, I wouldn’t be able to move on, knowing that I will lose you again, and this time, forever, if I don’t stop you now.”

“So please, Y/N. I’m begging you. Please don’t go.”

With his final words, you eventually find your arms slowly snaking up his back and returning the hug to him. You weren’t too sure why you did that, especially after the tremendous pain you have gone through the past week in particular. At the end of the day, the phrase where the heart wants what it wants will forever remain faithful to you, whether you like it or not.

You sobbed. “You’re not going to make me stay that easily.”

“Oh yeah? You think I’m not capable of doing that?”

“Prove it then.”

Instantly, one of his hands travelled back up to your chin and lifted them, causing you to look directly towards his as he slowly bent down to interlock his lips with yours. The kiss was rather heated, as if the both of you had been waiting for this to come so badly. You couldn’t care less if you both were actually making out at the airport.

Juyeon cupped your face with both hands as he tilted his head for you to gain more entrance into his. His lips felt soft yet demanding as if you were devouring a forbidden fruit. In return, you run your fingers through his silky black hair.

After a few minutes, you both broke apart for some fresh air, trying your best to catch your breath simultaneously.

“Is that supposed to make me stay put in Seoul, Juyeon?” You teased.

With that, he merely replied with a little smile followed by a smirk. “That, Miss Y/N, was actually a pact you made to me. Treat it as a contract, if you will, that you are bound to stay by my side no matter what.”

“Ugh, that’s so foul of you!”

“You should know that I have my ways; I’m not the CEO of GQ Korea for nothing.”

The both of you eventually burst out into laughter while Juyeon finds both hands on your waist while you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Listen, Y/N. I want to apologise on behalf of my uncle and Saeran.”

“Oh, yeah. No big deal. By the way, is Saeran—”

“It’s not what you think it is.”

“It’s not?”

He smiled. “She’s my little cousin, and she often showers me with tons of hugs and kisses, even though I’ve told her to stop a million times.”

“Well, you’re lucky to have a cousin who loves you that much,” you replied.

“Yeah, but she’s going to have to learn that she can’t do that anymore because someone else is going to replace her job for that.”

As much as you knew who he referred to, you still wanted to drag this further. “And who exactly is that?”

“Hmm…maybe the contract before wasn’t clear enough. Should I make another one?”

You slapped his chest immediately. “Don’t you dare, we’re in public.”

Again, another burst of laughter was genuinely beginning to make you feel a lot better, even to the point of slowly healing all the scars you have had before.

With that, you needed to make yourself clear to the man himself.

“Juyeon, can I just be honest with you?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“I appreciate you doing all of this for me, but I just want to give you a heads-up that it’ll take a while for me to heal from everything completely and that I’m sorry if I don’t give you the exact treatment that you expect from me, and I—”

You were then silenced with another kiss on the lips; this time, Juyeon took the time to shower you with as many kisses as possible, making sure that each was worthwhile before breaking the kiss again.

“Y/N, I don’t care about all of that. You can take as long as you need, but just know that I will be here for each step you take, and I’ll give you support whenever you need it. I promise. I will not leave you behind ever again.”

As you both plastered a soft smile, you leaned in to rest your forehead against each other, taking in everything that had happened minutes prior.

“Here’s to a new beginning with you.”

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @zzoguri @kyusqult @tinkerbell460 @cheonsafics @sulkygyu @jaerisdiction @lngwayup @daisyvisions (join my permanent taglist here!)

329 notes · View notes

octuscle · 4 months

Note

If a nerd in highschool suddenly gained muscular body, without an effect on his brains or mental state

How quickly would he actually, naturally change? Maybe the attention gives him an ego?

Or maybe the jocks want to be his friend

How much of a jock could the nerd become?

Project diary, entry 1 (Friday)

My name is Salomon Miller. I live in Providence, Connecticut and am a senior in high school. I wouldn't say I have any real hobbies, but I am interested in art history, architecture, astronomy and geology. And many other things. I read a lot and actually everything I can get my hands on. But my passion is sociology and political science. That's also one of the reasons why I'm writing this diary. Starting next semester, I will be studying at Stanford and have a full scholarship, which is linked to my participation in a project. The Department of Sociology will use my person to investigate the effects of serious physical changes on the psyche and behavior. I won't find out in advance what the physical changes are, but the changes were set in motion with the help of an injection that I received today.

My parents support me in the project. My father is a lawyer specializing in environmental law, my mother is a neurologist and psychiatrist. Neither of them understand why I chose to study sociology, but as they both studied at Stanford, they accept my plans. They don't have many options either, they are both in Europe for a long time. My mother has a research semester at the University Hospital of Heidelberg and my father is currently representing a client in a lengthy case at the European Court of Justice. I've known this situation since I was a child. I'm used to having our gardener or Consuela, our housekeeper, as my social contact. That's not meant in a negative way, I love my parents, even if our contact is often less intensive. This has taught me a certain independence, which I really appreciate.

Today is the Friday evening before the last weekend of the summer vacation. The date was chosen deliberately for the injection. This gives me until Monday morning to get used to the upcoming transformation. At the moment, I feel nothing more than a certain tiredness. Normally I would go for a long walk or read something. But I'm just exhausted and will go to bed early.

Project diary, entry 2 (Saturday)

I woke up at around 03:00 in the morning. I was scared to death. I was almost strangled by my pyjamas. I tried to rip the top off my body. I tore it completely to shreds. I was no longer wearing my pyjama bottoms, which were already lying in tatters in my bed. It was clear to me that the transformation had begun. And a look in the bathroom mirror gave me certainty. My whole body was twitching, just like I'd seen in a Hulk movie. Except I didn't turn green. But my muscles literally grew. In fact, little else has changed. I am still clearly me. Even though my neck was already wider than my head, which is why I almost suffocated in my pyjamas, this was still my face. My hairstyle unchanged. My eyesight was also the same. Fortunately, the head can't get any more muscular, the glasses still fit. My thoughts were running amok in my head, I can't describe the feeling, especially as the cramps didn't stop and the muscles continued to grow. I lay down on my bed and tried to relax. At around 04:30 the cramps subsided and I fell asleep again from exhaustion.

When I woke up at around 09:45, I was lying sticky and sweaty in a dried up puddle of semen. Obviously I had ejaculated once or several times. After getting up, I went to the bathroom to assess the change. According to the scales, I now weigh 120 kilograms (I assume that documentation in metric units is more scientific), my height is unchanged at 182 cm. What has actually changed is the length of my penis, which is now 18 cm when flaccid. I have not yet been able to measure the length when erect. In fact, I would have thought that the sight of a muscular man would somehow excite me. But my head has been working like crazy since I got up, I suppose my blood is needed in my brain and is not available for an erection. The shower was still an incredible experience. My body feels great. I had no idea what muscles felt like. However, I realized while showering that I had a problem: None of my clothes would fit me anymore. And my father is smaller than me and, like I was until yesterday, is also more of an ectomorph. My only hope was that José, our gardener, who is probably almost as muscular as me and about my height, had some of his clothes in the dirty laundry. He and Consuela both don't work at the weekend and I didn't want to invade his room.

I was actually lucky and managed to find a pair of jeans, a jockstrap, a T-shirt and a pair of tennis socks in the laundry. Everything smelled very unpleasant and at first I thought about washing it first and then putting it on, but then decided against it. Instead, I went to the mall as I was to buy something new to wear. There is an expense account from the project, which is presumably intended for exactly these cases. Shopping really was an ordeal. As usual, I went to Macy's at Providence Place Mall first, but I realized pretty quickly that I wasn't going to find anything in my size there besides clothes for gym class. Then I went to Abercrombie & Fitch for the first time. The sales assistants literally pounced on me. The XXL T-shirts fitted reasonably well, my thighs were too big for the jeans, but shorts were fine. Fortunately, the weather forecast for the next few days is still very good.

Even though I was extremely focused on quickly working through my shopping list and getting back home, I didn't miss the effect I had on my body. Not only did the sales clerks pay much more attention to me, people turned to me, nodded appreciatively at me and greeted me. It all made me extremely uncomfortable. I was glad when I got home again.

Project diary, entry 3 (Sunday)

I'm not really a religious person, but I value the institution of the church as a culturally integrating entity. So I probably would have actually gone to church, but I would have been very uncomfortable in shorts and low-cut t-shirts that exposed my chest. So I spent the day making up my bed, doing the laundry and getting ready for the first day of school after the vacations. My story for teachers and classmates will be that I spent the summer in Europe with my parents and discovered my enthusiasm for the gym out of boredom. I have no idea whether this story will be accepted. As much as possible, I completed the course enrollment online. Because I really have no idea what I can do with this body, I signed up for boxing and wrestling. The alternative would have been football, but I have no experience at all with team and ball sports. Swimming used to be the sport I hated the least, but a few laps in our pool today have shown me that my body has become less streamlined. Although I have a lot more strength, my times are worse than usual.

I have signed up again for the astronomy and chess clubs. Apart from that, I thought it made sense to leave myself enough time to be able to react to unexpected events.

My first real test was my Sunday video conference with my parents. As I can't hide anything, I decided to take the offensive and had the conversation in nothing but my swimming trunks by the pool. Even though I had no real idea of my parents' reaction, I was actually taken aback. My mother scientifically dissected the situation and said that my body was probably more efficient now and therefore I would have a benefit gain. My father disagreed, as he assumed that a bulkier body had a worse ecological balance. In the beginning, I tried to approach this project as objectively as possible. But then I couldn't help but start crying. I was afraid of tomorrow. And my parents actually showed something like emotion and compassion.

Project diary, entry 4 (Monday)

I was expecting something like running the gauntlet. But the first day at school was actually relatively unproblematic. Most of my friends at least pretended to believe my story about my stay in Europe. The teachers were not surprised either and largely went straight back to business as usual. The only noticeable reaction came from the musclemen and jocks. I have the feeling that they never took their eyes off me. When there was eye contact, I received a respectful nod. Otherwise, I felt a bit like a foreign lion approaching a pride of lions. Every muscle of the alpha animals and their water carriers was tense and ready to strike if I got too close to their watering hole. I'm looking forward to my first PE lesson tomorrow.

Project diary, entry 6 (Tuesday)

While the morning was more of a triumph, the afternoon was a debacle. The subject matter in chemistry and physics suits me very well, everything is very interesting. There shouldn't be any significant challenges in Spanish lessons either. But the new Spanish teacher is also an advantage here. Based on her first impression, she probably thought I was a hollow nut. She didn't expect me to have already read Don Quixote in the original and in the contemporary Spanish transcription during the vacations.

I embarrassed myself to the bone in gym class. Of course, after my contrived lie, everyone assumed that I knew my way around the gym like the back of my hand. And I don't even know how to hold a barbell properly. Interestingly, no one laughed at me or anything. On the contrary, they all assumed that I'm extremely underchallenged and told me that I should just train for myself and that I should join them next week after I've learned the basics. But maybe that was just polite contempt.

In any case, I spent the whole afternoon and evening at home watching all the gym tutorials I could get hold of and reading everything I could find about bodybuilding, nutrition and supplements. That's why I skipped the first session of the chess club. But I had to prioritize.

Project diary, entry 7 (Wednesday)

Theory is good, practice is better. That's why I went straight to the gym this morning at 06:00. The school janitor who opened the door for me said appreciatively that my discipline was paying off. The big boys are always the first to arrive in the morning. If only he knew. But in fact I was lucky, I was alone on the training area until 07:00 and by then I had familiarized myself with most of the machines I had learned how they worked in theory and had also developed a feeling for the weights I was able to lift.

The second visitor to the gym after me was the quarterback of the football team. Stephen and I have been at the same school since first grade. Of course I know him. But of course he has no idea who I am. We've never had classes together and someone like me is of course a nobody to him. Or was a nobody to him. Now I was his biggest rival, the only classmate who had bigger biceps and a broader chest than him. And being the alpha male that he was, he sought conflict directly. As far as I know, the jocks and Himbo's call it "cock comparison". Wherever I trained, he did the same afterwards with more weight. After training, he waited for me in front of the shower and said that he had already heard about me. I was the Spanish exchange student. I looked at him questioningly. "Well, the one who had that book with the windmills and the crazy knight at school. The linebacker goes to your Spanish course. Clever to take Spanish as a Spaniard," he said. I shook his hand, introduced myself as Salomon and told him we were in the same kindergarten. He returned the offered hand with a fist bump and said that I must have mistaken him. He had never been to Spain. But I spoke very good English for a Spaniard.

I always prefer to spend my lunch break alone. I like to read or just relax. This time, however, Stephen waved me straight over to him and his boys. He introduced me as Sal and said I should tell him how I liked it in the USA. At first, I wanted to start comparing European democracies with the US, especially in light of the rise of populist tendencies. But then I didn't think that was a good idea and just said that I thought the USA was the greatest country in the world. Stephen gave me a fistbump and all his buddies followed suit. Before English class after lunch, my friend Frederick passed me and said somewhat reproachfully whether I would always eat with the football team now. I laughed and gave him a fist bump and said that I would only eat as long as my primate research project lasted.

Project diary, entry 8 (Friday)

Yesterday was a wild day! I went to wrestling practice. Everyone but me has taken wrestling as a sport since they were in high school. I'm the only one who had no experience at all. Sure, I looked at and read through everything I could find to prepare. But without any practical experience, I really made a fool of myself. Thank God the coach really understood me. He said that he was sorry that bodybuilding wasn't a school subject. And then he gave me tips on how to pose properly. Damn, when I stood in front of the mirror in just my underpants and he touched my muscles to get them in the right position, I got a boner. And he obviously noticed. He then hugged me from behind and massaged my nipples. It was a feeling I'd never experienced before. I started to moan. He pulled me close to him. I felt his hard-on against my ass. And then I had my first orgasm outside of my bathroom. I was so embarrassed. And it was so great! Since then, I've really just wanted to make my coach proud. I've spent every spare minute at the gym, signed up to the sports club to do more wrestling and spent a small fortune on sportswear. I'm afraid I have a real crush for the first time in my life.

Today I got a telling off from my friends from the astronomy club. I missed the meeting and no longer see them during school breaks. I admit it, I'm neglecting my old social environment. But I have to find my way in my new role. Or rather, I have to find this new role first. Tonight I have a date with a couple of guys from the sports club. We're going to the gym first and then want to watch football in the sports bar. I'm a bit excited because I've tended to spend my weekend evenings alone in front of the computer so far. Now I have to think about what I'm going to wear.

Project diary, entry 9 (Sunday)

Dude, I might be drunk. For the second night in a row. The weekend is one big party. Last night at the sports bar was great. It was a little hard at first to pretend I knew anything about football. But after one beer I didn't give a shit. At some point, someone bought me some booze. Because his team had won or something. I was completely out of it and had to puke at some point. I can't really remember, but I'm afraid I didn't hit the toilet bowl. One of the boys then took me home with him. I really wasn't able to find my way home. Apparently, at some point I invited the boys over for a pool party on Saturday. And it escalated a little bit. Fuck, I probably have to spend the rest of the day tidying and cleaning. But for now I'm going to bed. After I've thrown up.

Project diary, entry 10 (Monday)

I'm a bit embarrassed about my behavior at the weekend. When I woke up on Sunday, a few of the boys were still snoring by the pool. And a few of them were making breakfast on the barbecue. I didn't really get around to cleaning. And then I overslept today too. Consuela suddenly came into my room and asked if my parents knew what had happened here. I gave her 100 dollars from my emergency expense fund and asked her not to reveal anything. She and Raoul actually did a great job. When I got home from astronomy club late at night, everything was pretty tidy again. The two of them are real treasures!

Mondays are not sports days. History, English, math. I admit that math has never been my hobbyhorse. And my teacher has made no secret of the fact that he thinks I'm an overprivileged white boy. When I couldn't answer a question to his satisfaction today, he said something along the lines of "Muscleheads are just all airheads". The whole back row started throwing paper balls at the teacher and hooting in protest. I have never received such expressions of sympathy.

Between school and the astronomy club, I went to the optician and got some contact lenses. Glasses are just so annoying when you're doing sport. And then I went to the hairdresser. I like my haircut. My hair is longer at the nape of my neck than at the sides. I had a photo of Coach with me and said that I wanted to look like this. Hehehe, the hairdresser said that he couldn't take away my muscles. In fact, I'm bigger than Coach. The hairdresser also shaved my beard. I haven't even written that yet, I have the feeling that my beard and body hair are growing faster and thicker. A bush is growing under my armpits and in my pubic area...

The astronomy club was terribly exhausting. I wanted to concentrate on the Jupiter-Venus conjunction. We had the best conditions to observe it today. But the nerds were all just asking questions about what exactly it was like on vacation, how I trained, how I changed my diet. I prepared myself for these kinds of questions. But every one of my answers was scientifically dissected. If it goes on like this, I'd rather look at the stars alone.

Project diary, entry 11 (Thursday)

The last few days have been pretty exciting, which is why I didn't get around to writing the diary. After training on Tuesday I went to the showers. Not all the guys on the team do this, but I just don't feel comfortable in the sweat with a bit of Axe under my arms. I also urgently needed to clear my balls and cock of the hair that was growing and shave my chest. I still can't get used to how hairy I get. In any case, it all took longer than with the other boys and then I was alone with Chuck in the shower. And suddenly Chuck knelt in front of me and sucked my cock. Without warning. I had prepared myself for intercourse in theory and in practice.

In any case, I've been a bit confused ever since. I mean, I have a crush on Coach. And Coach also got a boner when he helped me pose. I mean, he must think I'm hot too. But Chuck says he's had a crush on me ever since he and I spent Friday night together. The night I don't remember. But I'm writing all mixed up...

The blowjob in the shower was definitely sooooo hot. Even though it didn't last long. Boy, I shot my load into Chuck's mouth like that. My cum was leaking out of both corners of his mouth. He French kissed me with my cum in his mouth. Dude, I'm getting hard just thinking about it. And then he grinned and said that edging wasn't really my thing. I had no idea what he meant. In any case, I kissed him again and started wanking his cock. I was far too excited to suck him off myself. Chuck moaned and started twitching. Then he pulled me against him and wedged his cock between our stomach muscles. And then blew his load. Bloody hell! I don't know how long we showered together and soaped each other up.

In any case, I then started to gain practical experience with sexual intercourse. Chuck spent the night with me the day before yesterday and yesterday. The first time we fucked was really awkward. Chuck also asked if I was still a virgin. I said no, of course. But I'm sure he realized that it was the first time I'd fucked someone. And also that I was being fucked. In bed and in the hot tub. The first time I blew him was Wednesday in the school bathroom. We both just had a lot of pressure on our balls before civics. Shit, I'd never thought about sex before, now I can't get sex out of my head.

Practice is coming up. I just jerked off to the idea of forming a sandwich with Coach and Chuck in the shower. That would be so hot!

Project diary, entry 12 (Sunday)

Shit, I love my life. The parties this weekend were so hot. I mean, sure I love Chuck, but my dick has too much energy for one man. And Chuck gets off on me fucking other men too. As long as he's the only one who gets to fuck me. It's a point of honor, of course!

Before I go to bed now, I went to the gym again. To burn off the alcohol. And prepare my muscles for a tough week. I have my first wrestling tournament next Friday. And I've promised Steph-bruh, the quarterback, that I'll drop by football training. The hollow nut still calls me wetback, but has now understood that I'm not Spanish or Latino. And then I have to chat with my mentor from Stanford again. I don't know if sociology is really my subject. Chuck wants to study business administration. He's hoping for an athletic scholarship. Maybe I'm up for that too.

Inspiration found @redneckmusclehead

#male tf #muscle tf #jock tf #nerd to jock #nerd to hunk

274 notes · View notes

wisteriagoesvroom · 16 days

Note

For the trope mashup thing whatever: arranged marriage and neighbors 👀 - CX

again not one i would've picked but thank you for prompting it !! this also uh, got longer than i thought.

(from the prompts mash up - still taking submissions)

--------

“What do you mean your visa’s running out?” Lando asks.

“I’m Australian. Not a magician. Commonwealth only gets you so far.”

“I thought you were here on a scholarship.”

“Well. Yeah. But scholarships stop. Once you graduate.”

Lando toes the doorway rug. It feels weird to be talking about this in the middle of the hallway, though the only other person who would be listening might be Mrs. Kapoor, and half the time it’s only because she sticks her head out to ask if Lando or Oscar would take one of her mystery vegan curries. Lando is neither a huge fan of vegan food nor curry, and he trusts Oscar’s word for it that it’s good because they eat it while playing Gran Turismo at Lando’s place. But Lando always accepts the curries nonetheless, because his parents raised him to be polite, and he wasn’t raised in a barn. (Even if he technically grew up in converted farmhouse in the countryside, but that was besides the point.) Either way, this is slipping away from him much quicker than he’d anticipated. Late night hangouts, dropping mail and post-it notes, text messages about the community garden. The most inane smalltalk about things big and small from the origins of moths to whether aliens were out there or just chose to ignore the +44 area code. Oscar always laughing in the right places when Lando regales him about tales of his terrible online dating stories, Oscar always picking the pickles out of the roast beef bagels before he passes one to Lando. The corner of Lando’s sofa that Lando has started to think of as Oscar’s because he’s there so often, reading one of his books or trying to speedread a JSTOR article about the lifecycle of urban pathogens while Lando worked on artwork for his upcoming store launch.

Lando’s synapses are firing too fast. His brain did that most days, and that was what made him exceedingly good at his job, and today in particular - it doesn’t feel like there’s any logical way out.

Lando remembers that movie they watched once though. As a joke. The one they both pretended not to enjoy, with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds in Alaska. The one they watched when Oscar sat next to Lando on the sofa, and they both pretended the entire night that their knees weren’t touching.

His therapist said he had a tendency to get ahead of himself when under stress. But it’s a joke, it’s not serious, there’s no way—

“We could just like, get married.”

Lando shoves his hands in his pockets. That came out way more calm and cooler than he thought it actually would. And to his credit, Oscar doesn’t drop his mug of tea. Lando knows that’s his favourite one, because Lando got it for him, and it says Science is my superpower. Oscar does, however, slightly shift his grip on the mug.

“I feel like it’d be complicated to explain to my mum why I randomly married my upstairs neighbour?”

“But it’s not a no.”

Oscar tilts his head. There’s a glimmer of something focused, maybe even hungry in his eyes. Oscar gets like that when his mind turns, when he’s working on an especially difficult thesis, when the pieces are forming and he can lock into the crucial details.

Lando is a little alarmed at how much he already recognises it, and how much more often he’d like to draw that reaction out.

“If the facts don’t fit the theory, then reexamine the facts. Right?” Oscar says.

And Lando is there, in the doorway. Conscious that Mrs Kapoor might’ve heard everything, but all the more conscious that there’s a hammering in his heart that he can’t tell is nervousness, or anticipation.

What’s the stress limit for a joke you’re probably already pushing too far? Lando thinks.

He isn’t sure.

But maybe it’s a thesis worth testing out.

-------------

(and ok maybe i cheated a little on arranged marriage but i think this is the closest i could get with the contemporary context. thank you @cx-boxbox for the prompt <3)

#landoscar #lando norris #oscar piastri #ln4 #op81 #mctwinks #twinklaren #f1 rpf #asks #wiz.promptfill #<- don't even know if i use this tag lmao but only one way to find out #green card marriages man what a tried and tested excellent trope #also one i've never written before!! so thanks or letting me dabble in the drabble #prompt game #wisteria HCs #why do picture blocks conspire against me lately #they just get so aggressive when i try to put 3 in a row on this device #anyway #yapping

136 notes · View notes

arcielee · 8 months

Text

You got all I need.

Summary: Your boyfriend goes all out for your birthday. Paring: chubby!Aegon x you Word Count: 1570 Warnings: Chubby!Aegon, brief mentions of wg, implied sexual situations, hands hands hands, fingering, inappropriate behavior while riding in a vehicle. Author's Note: Thank you to @bucknastysbabe for being my beta reader for this! Happy birthday to @lovelykhaleesiii 💜 This story was inspired by the line, “There's more of you to love.” in her brilliant one-shot A Little Too Tight... Also, for the foreseeable future, every title will be a lyric from Unreal Unearth.💜 Banners & dividers by @cafekitsune

You had always loved his hand; you loved his strong hold and how his thick fingers interlaced with your own, pulling you into the back of the Uber with enough force for you to fall against his chest. Aegon was solid with the welcoming scent of vanilla and cognac cologne that still held to his skin despite the busy day, with a warmth that you could just melt against.

The entire day had been his idea.

Aegon was adamant to take you away to celebrate your birthday. He booked a room at one of the many luxury hotels owned by the Targaryen dynasty, a suite with a postcard view of the blue-green waters of The Gullet. The day began with brunch, which you knew to be his favorite meal, and afterwards his large hand enveloped your own, your fingers knitting in a way that would still sweep away your heart, a grinning fool and walking alongside him on the boardwalk until you were both rosy from the sun.

There was a reprieve back in the room, an afternoon delight that left you both breathless and wanting more, insatiable for him still after all this time, but Aegon seemed determined to make the dinner reservation. He had purchased you a dress, something that complemented your figure in a way that made his pupils swallow the lovely lilac of his eyes when he looked you over; you burned from his gaze, also admiring the fit of his buttoned up shirt and slacks on his thicker frame.

He pulled you in for a chaste kiss, a saucy confirmation that you were wearing the lace set underneath. When you nodded, he kissed you again with a murmured, “Good girl,” and Aegon, ever the gentleman, offered you his elbow. “Come on, pretty girl.”

You giggled, you hand tucking into the crook of his arm, and he escorted you out to the awaiting Uber. Night was settling over Driftmark and the man made lights began to glow for the nightlife, with the sea rolling a cool breeze from its coastline.

The restaurant he had chosen had a renowned drag show and you were enthralled with the floorshow; your cheeks pink from the sun, from your strawberry mojitos, from singing along to the pop songs performed and marveling at the swell of colors of elaborate costumes. Aegon made sure to have cash in hand to tip the ladies, and they flocked towards him, vocally swooning over your “big man.”

“Honey,” one popped her painted lips into the microphone, the shimmer of glitter across her cheekbones, “he is thicker than a Snickers!” And the other queens crowed in agreement.

Aegon blushed from the attention, a mixture of flattery and the fleeting glimmer of self-consciousness that also tainted his handsome features.

You two were sweethearts since uni; Aegon had enrolled with his family connections partnered with a rugby scholarship, which suited his broad shoulders and defined chest, and you were a hapless student among the masses of school spirit whenever your academic schedule allowed.

You had always noticed him, as he was impossible to miss with his strong jawline and his silver hair knotted at the base of his neck, how his eyes glittered with his roguish smile. It was one night during a celebratory party of another victory that you allowed your liquored courage to ask for his phone and save your number under the name: prettiest pussy.

This, of course, was something you did not recall until he texted you the next morning, along with a screenshot to accompany his claim. You burned with embarrassment, swearing off cheap tequila forever, but he had been sweet and asked to take you out on a date.

And this is how you learned that brunch was his favorite.

You two became inseparable even after he graduated, and with you following two years later. It had been easy to fall in love with Aegon and his big heart, and he was all-consumed by you, but as the years continued there was a newfound insecurity that flared in a way that you loathed.

No longer an undergraduate, rugby was not a massive part of his day-to-day life, and there was a softness to his center; in truth, you loved him as you watched him clean his plate of French toast with sliced bananas and walnuts, drenched in syrup, and you loved him now, if not even more. There was a comfort to his embrace, something that allowed you to melt against him with a sultry whisper in his ear, “There is just more of you for me to love,” and it would dispel any hesitation he felt.

But tonight you saw it lingered still.

Now you were cuddled up against Aegon in the backseat of the SUV, listening to the soft curses from your Uber driver dealing with the standstill traffic. You did not mind it though, enjoying the cool air from the windows rolled down and your head resting on his chest, your leg draped over his thick thigh. Your hand was on his belly with the slow motion to rub away the meal and he groaned, trying to shy away from your touch.

“Stop it,” you moved to whisper in his ear, smiling as you watch his skin prickle with your words. “Everyone wanted you tonight, but I am the lucky one who gets to take you back to bed.”

The blue glow of the dashboard showed how his lips curled. “Is that so?” He asked, his arm curling around your waist and pulling you closer.

Your eyes were heavy, dropping to see the inviting bulge between his thighs, a warmth curling in your lower abdomen. “It is,” and you held his own hooded gaze, watching his cheeks darken with the flush of red. Your hand moved to touch his jaw and you leaned to kiss him.

Aegon responded to you, a sweet sigh, and his clever tongue curling against your own, the leftover taste of the strawberry mojitos that stained your lips. His kiss was fearsome, drawing the very breath from your lungs and leaving you lightheaded, giggling against his lips.

You sighed again at his touch to your thigh, his palms still rough from rugby, still gentle as always, dipping between your legs. His kiss swallowed your soft gasp when you felt the pads of his finger pressing against the damp patch of the lace underwear.

“Fuck, is this for me?” His voice was husky, heavy with want, and he encircled your clothed cunt slowly, the sensation curling at the base of your spine.

You nod quickly and he shifts his weight, pulling you closer, his hot mouth pressing a kiss to the soft divot beneath your ear. You shuddered in response, biting your bottom lip between your teeth, a pitiful attempt to smother a moan.

He was quick to playfully pinch your hip with his other hand. “We cannot disturb the driver, pretty girl,” his breath tickling the curve of your neck. “Can you be quiet for me while I play with your pretty pussy?”

Your eyes are glassy and you nod again; Aegon gives a cheeky grin before capturing your lips for another kiss, a whispered, “Good girl,” that fans your jawline as you feel his fingers pulling aside the lace.

There is another wave of arousal with how his fingers ghost your entrance, your body desperate for him, for his touch, and his smile remains, but now smug. It is a stretch with one digit, but he pushed for two, their tandem motion curling against that sweet spot within you that allows stars to dance across your vision.

You bury your face into the soft curve of his neck, your teeth sinking into his flesh and sucking to muffle your cry. Aegon groaned, low, a rumbled vibration through his chest that you are flushed against, but it does not stop the come hither motion of his fingers.

His wrist angles to allow his thumb to press against the bundle of nerves above, his familiar touch to your clit and your involuntary clench. “Aegon,” you whined softly against his skin, your hips rutting in response.

He does not answer you but kisses you again, something desperate, as if he is trying to draw the release deep within. His lips pulled you to the precipice, the flutter of your walls around his thick fingers that are coated with your juices, an electricity that trills your spine.

Aegon pulled you closer, his breathless command, “Come for me,” and it spilled from you like a torrent, sweeping away your breath with your heart pounding its fury to break through your ribs, a pleasure thrumming beneath your skin.

“We’re here,” a voice chirped, and only then did you remember the Uber.

Aegon had not forgotten, his smug satisfaction still splayed on his features as he sucked his fingers clean. “Good timing,” and his other hand unwrapped from your waist, moving to open the car door. “Come on, pretty girl, let’s get you to bed.”

The implication of his tone is not lost on you and the blood remains bold in your cheeks, a shade of crimson as you try your best to discreetly fix your lace underwear and follow after him, moving with a new slick between your trembling thighs.

You reach to take his hand and it wraps around your own, a perfect fit as always.

arcie's masterlist

#chubby!aegon ii #modern aegon x you #modern aegon x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #happy birthday darlin!#you got all i need

246 notes · View notes

apuckishwit · 1 year

Note

"What the HELL are you wearing?"

Steddie ^^

A continuation of this (hope OP doesn't mind, but it fit so nicely!)

“What the hell are you wearing?” Steve—shit, Eddie should probably find out his last name if he’s going to be following this guy back to Paris…and also asking him back to his hotel room after the show—calls as they enter the charming little chateau he’s staying at. Seriously. It looks like something out of a fairy tale—ivy covered walls, a beautiful garden full of flowers and vegetables, a snowy white cat perched on the fence. If you looked up the phrase ‘charming little chateau’ in the dictionary, there would probably be a picture of this place right next to it.

Eddie peeks around Steve’s shoulder (it’s only polite to wait to be invited inside, it has nothing to do with him wanting a longer look at that enticing ass in those jeans) and for a moment, his heart sinks. There’s a woman around their own age standing in the—charming—living room, bathed in sunlight from the wide picture windows. There’s nothing particularly offensive about her outfit…except for the neon purple beret perched on her head. She’s got a huge canvas set up on an easel in front of her, the floor covered by drop cloths and paints, brushes, and other tools covering every flat surface. She’s pretty, in an off-beat kind of way—not as classically attractive as Steve, to Eddie’s eyes, but pretty all the same, and Eddie can sense the easy familiarity between the two as Steve drops his bag of purchases by the door and saunters into the living room. He plucks the beret off the woman’s head, examining it with a look of disgust and dodging nimbly when the woman reaches to snatch it back.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, has he misread this whole situation? Or, Christ, is he about to be invited to a threesome or something? He doesn’t think he’s been misinterpreting the looks Steve keeps casting at him, but he does not feel like awkwardly turning down some hot young couple trying to be adventurous…particularly as he’s kind of depending on them to get him back to Paris in time for the show.

Then he takes a closer look at the woman.

“Holy shit, you’re Robin Buckley!” he exclaims, drawing her eyes to him. They immediately go as wide as his feel.

“Holy shit, you’re Eddie Munson!” she gasps.

Well. At least he knows Steve didn’t bring him back here with the intention of having a threesome.

Steve freezes, glancing between them with a—still unfairly attractive—frown. “You two…know each other?” he asks slowly.

“I mean…not personally?” Eddie says. “Just—oh my God, I love your art! My best friend is obsessed with you!” he can’t help gushing. Robin Buckley is a darling of the international art scene—her portraits and paintings in demand in galleries all over the world. Eddie would kill to have some of her art on one of their album covers.

Chrissy is going to die of jealousy when she hears about this. She’s been nursing the worst crush on Robin Buckley for going on two years now. Ever since she saw the woman speak at a charity gala dedicated to raising money for art scholarships for LGBT+ youth.

“My art! Dude! I love your stuff. Holy fuck, the Touchstone album was on blast 24/7 while I was painting my last triptych!”

Steve has moved further into the living room and is examining Buckley’s canvas with interest. At Robin’s words, he looks back at Eddie, arching an eyebrow. “You’re a—singer?” he asks, obviously guessing. Eddie ducks his head down, biting his lip a little.

“Something like that,” he says modestly. Buckley cackles.

“Oh my God! Dingus! How do you go out for booze and come back with the freakin’ lead singer and guitarist of Corroded Coffin? What is your life?” She points a paintbrush covered in yellow paint at him, causing him to dance backwards with a laugh that is fucking musical to Eddie’s ears.

“I don’t know who that is! No offense,” he tosses over his shoulder at Eddie, “he was trying to ask that clerk in the cheese shop for help finding the train station.”

Buckley nods sagely. “In English?” she asks Eddie.

Eddie nods sheepishly. “Didn’t go so well. Thank God Stevie here was in line behind me.” He notices Steve’s cheeks go a little pink at the pet name, and can’t help but smile. He hopes he gets to see how far down that blush goes tonight.

Buckley hums, her eyes flicking between him and Steve before they go a little sly. “Stevie,” she says, sidling a little closer to her friend. She glances at Eddie again. “Voulez-vous coucher avec lui?” she asks with a smirk.

And look. Eddie doesn’t speak French. Gareth made him memorize how to ask where the bathroom is, order a beer, and tell someone to fuck off (just for funsies) and he has a handful of other helpful phrases written down phonetically in his lyric notebook. However, Chrissy blasts Lady Marmalade every time it comes on the radio and he knows damn well what Buckley just asked Steve.

Steve shoots him a sly little side-glance, looking him up and down in a way that has heat blooming in Eddie’s gut. “Oui,” he says, tossing Eddie a little wink. Eddie kind of wants to fist pump.

Buckley laughs again, sounding delighted. “Oh my God, I can’t wait to tell Dustin about this. He’s going to die!”

Steve shakes his head. “Rob, I swear to God, if you tell Dustin about this, you can walk back to London next week.”

“Pfft, like I can’t buy my own plane tickets. Worth it!” she singsongs before whirling back to Eddie. “I am so delighted to meet you, Eddie Munson…would you like to join us for lunch, or do we need to get you back to Paris, like, ASAP?”

He glances at the—very charming—clock sitting on the mantle behind Buckley’s easel. He’s not due at soundcheck for another few hours and Steve said the city was only about an hour and a half train ride. Besides. Chrissy has been so good to him over the years—she truly is his best friend as well as their manager. He owes it to her to put in a good word with the woman she’s been pining over, doesn’t he?

“I could eat,” he says. “Gotta keep my energy up for tonight,” he says, making direct eye contact with Steve as he says it. That delightful flush sweeps over Steve's cheekbones again.

Seriously. Wandering around the French countryside. Best. Decision. Ever.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #chrissy/robin if you squint #my writing #stranger things #stranger things fic #fic prompt

488 notes · View notes

bluekittyworld · 2 months

Text

There is Karma.

Hello sweet people, this is my first time writing something, I hope you guys like it and all feedback will be appreciated.

Please don't post my work on other sites/platforms or copy it, or translate it, thank you.

Approx. 11,000 words in total and 5 chapters

Warnings: Lot's of angst, mention of suicide, smut, 18+

Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Happy Ending

Sad Ending

There is karma. It comes back, don’t use your heart in a bad way.

You were part of the popular girls at school, a rich spoiled brat as one may put it. Grade As and Bs were natural to you, you wondered sometimes if you had put in the effort, you could have scored better than all the nerds in your class, but who needed that, you were busy being the popular and pretty rich ‘it’ girl, belittling the quiet and less popular ones. There was one boy in particular, his name was Yunki or Yoonji, something like that. He wore thick framed glasses; his skin was ghostly pale, and he had contrasting pitch black hair in bowl cut. You found him an easy target as he never spoke back, no matter how many times you tripped him over, shoved him around, broke his ugly glasses, he never said anything back.

Why did you hate him so much? He didn’t care about anyone, and you hated it so much, why didn’t he try to fit in? He dressed so poorly, everyone just assumed that he was in this school on a scholarship, there was no way he could afford the fees by the way he dressed. On the other hand, you had to become mean to fit in, every day you woke up hours earlier to complete your work, prepare your hair and makeup, you had to stay relevant, have everyone’s attention, keep the ‘it girl’ title, life was so hard. So, every time you saw the careless Yoongi living his simple easy life, it boiled your blood and what ticked you off even more is that he never retaliated, come to think of it you had never heard his voice, was he mute?

This carried on for 5 years until the day of your graduation, just before graduation, you and your friends mocked this boy wearing his skinny ripped jeans, a t-shirt, and a plaid shirt. At the time your high-school boyfriend joined in too, you decided to give him a matching ripped shirt, pulling out your scissors you made a few cuts in his shirt and his bag, your friends laughed and recorded the scene. Your best friend took a few of his books, and teared them up, nobody noticed how Yoongi was having a panic attack and was on the verge of tears. Your boyfriend took the scissors and started cutting the poor boy’s hair, you did think it was pushing it too far, but nobody else seemed to care, why should you care right? Your boyfriend’s mates started kicking and punching Yoongi, he was now covered in blood and bruises, his eyes piecing into your soul, while he was being beaten up, his eyes were still fixated on you. You noticed this and felt a little bit of guilt, you pulled your boyfriend and asked to go to your favourite Korean BBQ. All your friends and his friends discarded Yoongi, leaving him in the middle of the school grounds, you didn’t even bother to look back if he was still breathing or not, nobody did.

On graduation day, Yoongi didn’t turn up, not like you really cared, you just wondered if he was okay, maybe you did go a little too far the other day. Also, it would have been a great opportunity to see his parents and assess his wealth today. Soon your friends and boyfriend came over to you, and that was the last time you thought of Yoongi.

Years had passed since graduation. You were well set into your father’s business, ready to take senior management positions, being born into an affluent family had its perks, your whole life was served on a silver platter, not a single day of difficulty. Life was monotonic and predictable you began to feel a growing sense of emptiness. Despite the success you achieved in your career and social life, there was an underlying dissatisfaction, a void you couldn't fill. A friend of yours suggested maybe participating in charity events may give you a sense of fulfilment, so you decided to join the next available event.

At this event, everyone was put into groups of 4, and the tasks varied, you were in a team with two boys and another girl. The aim was to visit the elderly and help them out with their chores for today. The drive to the house was quite quick, you didn’t really get to talk to your teammates, the only thing you knew were their names, Sora, Yeonjun and Yoongi. Yoongi rang a bell, but you couldn’t really remember if you ever knew a person with that name, maybe it was just a name of one of the many people you see every day at work, you brushed it off.

Upon arriving at the house, you saw it was occupied by an old lady, the roofing had some issues and the wallpaper had been peeling off in various places. Yoongi took lead of the team, he suggested “Yeonjun and I will take the duty of fixing the ceiling, while you girls can start by removing the wallpaper.”

His voice was like a gentle breeze on a calm summer day, carrying warmth and serenity, you hadn’t heard such a caring voice in a very long time, even your own mother didn’t sound so affectionate.

You just nodded, while Sora nudged you, maybe you were looking at Yoongi for too long, he was looking back at you with his piercing dark eyes.

“The wallpaper removing machine is in the back of the car, let’s go get it” Sora mentioned.

You nodded and followed her along. Removing the wallpaper wasn’t hard at all, you and Sora had bonded quite well, it was interesting to find out about her, you learnt she ran a café nearby and had a fiancé, her parents currently live in Japan, and she has a poodle dog named Bobbi. You loved this kind of interaction; it was like a breath of fresh air being away from your routine life and interacting with people who didn’t have money on their minds 24/7. You glanced over to Yoongi’s direction now and then… there was a certain attraction you developed towards him, but you turned away each time in disappointment, him and Yeonjun were really focused on getting the ceiling fixed and didn’t really have time for other things. You really wanted to talk to Yoongi more and find out about him, maybe you wouldn’t get another chance and that really bothered you.

You and Sora were done removing the wallpaper, and the ceiling was still being plastered. You suggested to Sora “We should paint this room before the old lady comes back, it shouldn’t take too long, what do you think?”

“Perfect” Sora chimed “Let’s go to the nearby DIY store and pick out a colour.”

Sora got up and walked over to Yeonjun, by the looks of it you assumed they knew each other well, maybe they volunteered together previously, she asked “Yeonjun, my dear cousin, can you drive us in your car to the DIY store?”

Oh, now it makes sense, they were cousins, you smiled at learning the fact, you somewhat wished you were close to your family members.

At the DIY store you and Sora decided on a dusty pink colour, it would contrast well with the plants the lady had in her house. Yeonjun waited in the car and you guys were soon back, he suggested to grab some food, and as if on cue your stomach rumbled.

“Yup, ____ is hungry, we should definitely get food” Sora giggled.

You just smiled in embarrassment. The three of you had decided to buy four portions of Jjajangmyeon, not forgetting Yoongi of course.

Meanwhile Yoongi had finished up the plastering, he looked at the clock, it was 3pm, the old lady did mention she would return at 6pm, there were 3 more hours to go, more than enough time for the plaster to dry and paint over. He smiled at the fact he was ahead of schedule and thought the lady will be so happy to see the finished results. Soon you, Sora and Yeonjun came back, you distributed the noodle bowls to each person.

“Thank you” Yoongi smiled, you swear he had winked too, you felt excited like a teenage girl. You blushed and proceeded to sit down to eat, it was a nice meal, mostly Yeonjun sharing his personal life and how he has crush on his neighbour.

Chapter 2

#yoongi #agust d #bts #suga #suga x reader #bts fanfic #bts reader #suga smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #agustd #suga fluff #yoongi fluff #suga fanfic #yoongi fanfic

55 notes · View notes

koishiro · 8 months

Text

𝑨𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝑶𝒅𝒅𝒔 | Choi San

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : two former high school rivals, now attending the same college, unexpectedly reunite. Football player San is trying to win your heart, but you’re hell-bent on never talking to him again. After many trials and tribulations, will you open your heart?

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : jock!san x quiet!reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : fluff

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 : swearing

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒍 : this starts off in San’s pov :)

main masterlist | kpop masterlist | upcoming anon asks

Complete opposites yet I couldn’t help but be enamoured by you.

Especially now, when the light shining in through the tall windows of the building surrounded you with a glimmer only you could hold, even while stood in the middle of a run down college hallway.

The hallway we stood in, made from yellowing lime bricks, was wide and lined with arched windows that stretch from the ceiling to the worn carpet beneath our feet. There were few people here, only a handful lingering in doorways or sitting atop hard wooden benches built into alcoves in the wall. It feels like a long forgotten hallaway filled with secrets just waiting to be discovered if one should take it upon themselves to explore its hidden depths and abandoned regions of study.

The only modern attributes were the bright blue lockers lining the corridor’s walls and the tall glass cases encasing the college’s trophies.

And then there was you, who looked just like you had in school. Your hair that I used to pull was still long, the large framed glasses that I would hold above your head still enhanced your doe eyes, those freckles that I would stupidly call acne scars decorated your cheeks, and the hatred that continued to lace your eyes.

Except now you wore a nicely fitted suit — the buttons on your shirt were holding on for dear life, your hair brushed behind your ears, pin-striped skirt to your knees, short black heels and holding your books to your chest while the other held what looked to be a briefcase.

I remember overhearing you wanting to study law.

Other than your appearance you hadn’t changed in the slightest and neither had my heart which still raced a mile a minute when I looked into your eyes and saw the mix of emotions there — a combination of anger and confusion, but also curiosity and oddity.

“𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?” It was expected of me to go on to a scholarship but everyone was left surprised when I’d told them that I’d be staying and going to a community college not too far from the school, you included.

It had been seconds which felt like minutes since you uttered those words, I knew I had to say something as I stood there looking like a complete fool playing with the straps of my bag, so with trembling lips, I spoke,

“𝘐’𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦 ��𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵. 𝘞𝘩𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦? 𝘚𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨?” I titled my head, voice laced with my usual cockiness - only for you.

“𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭”

That’s all it took for my words to slip out like second nature, “𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭”

I hadn’t expected much of a reaction considering you were used to my antics from school where I wouldn’t miss a chance to flirt and fluster you although this time I caught sight of the faint flush on your cheeks causing my grin to widen.

Trying, and failing, to cover your reddened cheeks, you looked at me in annoyance before rolling your eyes where they landed on the books I held “𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥? 𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘚𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩?”

“𝘐’𝘮 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯’ “ it felt just like before, when we were both back in school, arguing over anything and everything.

How I missed those years. The days when I’d ask you for a pen only to leave teeth marks on the end just to see what reaction you’d give me that day or the times where I’d sit behind you in class and plait your hair without your knowledge only for you to storm your way towards me at the end of the day and scream at me for making you look like an idiot. Even though to me, it made you look prettier, impossibly so.

“𝘗𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘪, 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰?” You spat out, venom in your tone as you brushed past me, presumably walking towards your class.

“𝘐’𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶!” I turned my head and raised my voice causing an echo to bounce from the walls. We both knew I meant what I said but for two different reasons. You probably thought I just wanted to get in your pants, oh how wrong you’d be.

The next few weeks went by just like that, with San religiously keeping to his routine of annoying you or in his eyes; flirting.

After all those years of having to put up with his relentless bullying and confusing actions you thought you finally escaped. You thought he’d gone with that scholarship he was offered, anyone would take that chance — it was a free ticket out of this crap neighbourhood.

And now not just was he no longer taking that stupid scholarship but he’d also chosen to attend the exact same college you had — which was your ticket away from him.

He’d take any opportunity to make your life hell with his burning stare, looming figure and overpowering confidence, his head was stuck up his own ass more than half the time, always thinking he could get any girl he wanted with just one compliment — granted, you never physically saw him with any other girl but oh could you imagine and the rumours weren’t much help either.

And to hell if you reject his advances, which in this case — you had, suffering years worth of teasing and hair pulling. Even going as far as to ‘accidentally’ kick a multitude of footballs your way on more than one occasion — it was safe to say you never used that path as a shortcut ever again.

But what made it more infuriating was his inhuman good looks. As much as you wanted to hate him, you couldn’t. Not when he looked at you with those puppy dog eyes that begged for forgiveness, that he didn’t mean what he said.

But it didn’t matter, he’ll never know. You just have to get through 3 years of college and you’ll be free — again.

Although that apparently seems too much to ask for when the Choi San made it a constant habit to follow you around like an attention deprived dog with his constant snarky comments and confusing actions.

As soon as you stepped foot out of your lecture there he was in all his damn glory, Choi San, waiting for you.

He claimed he waited for you so he could walk you to class which baffled you at first but then came the comments. You came to the conclusion that he only followed you to taunt you. Whether that be on your outfit, hair, makeup or attitude that day.

“𝘠/𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱!” When you finally thought you caught a break, your hopes came crashing down once more. San was nowhere to be found when you left the lecture hall and seeing an opportunity, you quickly skipped in the opposite direction hoping you’d somehow avoid him.

Clearly you were given false hope when you saw a dark haired figure barrelling his way through the crowd of students. You probably would’ve looked the other way had he not been screaming your name the entire way.

Maybe if you slowly turned around and faced the lockers he wouldn’t see you.

Another hopeful thought crashing down when you felt the weight of an arm on your shoulder.

“𝘠/𝘯~ 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘩𝘶𝘩? 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨?” San said with a clear pout on his face causing your own to turn away.

“𝘠𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵” that’s all it took for San’s pout to grow deeper, almost making you feel bad.

Almost.

“𝘈𝘩𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦! 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘮𝘦, 𝘩𝘶𝘩?” The answer was plain and simple, no. You had no intentions of opening your heart, no less to San of all people. Why would you?

Even after the many confessions you received from San, you took them with a pinch of salt, pinning it down to his usual taunting.

Taking my silence as an answer, San continues, “𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘤𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵~”

“𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘌𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦?” Sure a cat cafe sounded nice and all but with the person I despise the most?

“𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘥𝘰” this almost made me chuckle at the absurdity. Did he honestly think that you two were friends?

Was that what this was to him? Friendly banter?

Turning your head towards him, prepared to reject his ‘kind’ offer when you were faced with those puppy dog eyes of his,

“. . . 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦”

Which led to where you were now, sat in a cafe opposite Choi San surrounded by cats — granted that was the sole purpose of the cafe.

Every detail in the room was meticulously attended to, and every item seemed just so. The furniture had been placed exactly where it needed to be for maximum efficiency and aesthetic beauty, the many shades of pink offsetting each other perfectly while never vying for the same attention from customers. Even the rugs were stylishly arranged in a geometric pattern that made them appear as if they had always belonged there.

Calico kittens scampered across tabletops as others lounged lazily over armchairs, basking in streams of sunlight that shone through wide windows looking out onto city streets below. It was truly an oasis from everyday life.

While San sat with a smile stretched across his cheeks as he swayed side to side with a cat balancing on his lap, you were sat there with a looming cloud over your head and dark expression plastered on your face.

“𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰!” He was practically jumping in his seat with excitement, the poor cat was hanging on for dear life.

Seeing how happy he was, was almost contagious. I nearly let a smile slip at the mix of expressions on his face, it was kind of — cute.

The Cat Cafe was a bright and airy establishment, with high ceilings and tall windows to let in as much natural light as possible. A wall of shelves held toys, treats, and supplies for the cats that roamed freely throughout the cafe. There were cozy couches dotted around where visitors could cuddle up with friendly felines or watch them play from afar. Soft music wafted through the air along with faint smells of coffee brewing behind rigid plexiglass barriers meant to keep both customers and cats safe during their interactions.

The boy, usually so cocksure and self-assured, seemed to have taken a step back into himself. His confident manner had vanished as if someone flipped a switch; his shoulders hunched inward with shyness, and he glanced away from me frequently.

There was something hesitant in the way he spoke now that we were alone – almost like whatever impenetrable armor of arrogance that usually surrounded him had unexpectedly dissolved away in my presence.

“𝘞𝘩𝘺’𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺?” I said, cutting the silence.

“𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘯𝘰?” How in the world did Choi San come to the conclusion that we were friends?

Baffled, I stared at him for a second or two, “𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸?” This seemed to make San nervous, confusing me even more.

This reminded me of school again, where he would pick on me but then follow it up by pulling out my chair for me or lend me a pencil when I miss-placed mine. Choi San was confusing, that’s for sure.

“𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺. . . 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭, 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 — 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺” really?

“𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺?” I voiced out loud, followed by a blank expression.

San just sat there, his eyes locked onto the cat on his lap as he mindlessly twirled it’s fur around his finger and a nervous look on his face, “𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩. 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 — 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘒��𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘪𝘥”

We were abruptly jolted out of conversation, as we saw the waitress standing in front of us with our orders – two plates laden with French toast and maple syrup. She carefully placed them on the table between us before giving a polite nod and turning to leave.

As she disappeared from view, I turned my attention back towards my thoughts.

I knew who he was talking about — Kang Yeosang, the perfect schoolboy, or at least as close to perfection as one could get. His grades were exemplary, never less than an A on a report card, and he had mastered every lesson within minutes of it being taught.

But it wasn’t just his intelligence that made him so admired — he was also blessed with the face of a model and stature unlike any other boy in class. Friendly and well liked by all who encountered him, he could do no wrong in anyone’s eyes; even teachers seemed to favor him above others when discussing matters relating to academics or conduct.

That’s what made me like him so much.

I remember San starting a fight with Yeosang — over what I don’t know. But it was big enough to grab nearly the entire school’s attention.

That fight made me hate San even more after Yeosang took it upon himself to avoid me at all costs, as if I had the plague. What could San have told him to cause him to avoid me like that?

Allowing my curiosity to take over, I voiced my thoughts, “𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺?”

As if what I said offended him, he quickly whipped his head up, “𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮? 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘶𝘱, 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘶𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘦”

I could practically see the steam seething from his reddened ears before he continued, “𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮” he grumbled.

San was a walking mass of contradictions—the kind each and every one of us has tucked away somewhere. On the outside there was an air of confidence, but on the inside lay a rich vein of jealous insecurity.

His intense eyes glimmered as he talked about Yeosang, even as his furtive glances betrayed him. There is never comfort in knowing that someone desires what we cannot have; watching San I felt like it had been magnified to its fullest potential for him.

“𝘏𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨-“

“𝘌𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘕𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳, 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘐’𝘥 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥”

His chocolate-brown eyes were blazing with unspoken emotion, a heat that seemed to penetrate my skin from across the room. His jaw was set firmly in a line of anger and he clenched one hand into an angry fist at his side as if it had suddenly become unbearable for him not to be involved or acknowledged. “𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦”

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦”

It was almost as if he’d been living two lives in parallel; the version I saw and the one of hidden jealousies. Jealousy that he had kept tightly locked away, like a closet full of secrets. Until now. The rage in him seethed with such force it felt sudden yet inevitable, at once both foreign and all too familiar.

His expression was open and vulnerable, like he was afraid to lay himself bare before me.

San’s hand tightened around the cat’s fur which he quickly moved to the drink he had in front of him as if it became all too real, his feelings and emotions now in the open for me to see.

So caught up with my thoughts, I barely caught the whisper that left San’s mouth, “𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦? 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘠𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨, 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦. . .”

The guilt was like a leaden weight on my heart. For once in my life, I felt something other than anger and resentment — remorse for someone who had treated me badly. It felt strange but strangely liberating to accept that he was now sat in front of me, shifting in his seat as he released his pent up anger he kept hidden for all those years.

“𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺,” San’s head shot up from looking at his mug, clearly surprised by my apology, “𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺”

Now shifting in my own seat , the pounding in my chest was relentless, and with each pulse I felt like it would burst.

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳, 𝘪𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘴𝘦 “

If I was told that I’d be sat in a cat cafe in front Choi San while we apologised to each other for all those years, I’d laugh and walk off.

All I could do was stare at him. The Choi San, the star of the football team and my biggest rival, apologising to me.

“𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺-“

“𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘥𝘰 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶”

That’s all it took for us to waste what was left of the day talking about anything and everything followed by the occasional apology while we moved to the floor to entertain the cats.

He watched me with an inscrutable expression, his gaze trained on me as if transfixed. It felt strange, almost alien to have him watching like that without any verbal judgements or harsh criticisms accompanying it.

I fiddled with the cats’ ears and nuzzled their heads for a few moments before glancing up at him again; he hadn't moved an inch from his position – still sat next to me studying my movements as if he couldn’t believe this was how we were interacting: civil and non-combative.

He reached forward to stop me from petting the cat, taking my hand firmly in his. Then, gently turning me towards him, he looked deeply into my eyes with an intensity I hadn't felt before and quietly said “I meant what I said before,” his words hung in the air between us like a challenge: An unspoken conversation that needed no further input or explanation; only acknowledgment of something greater than ourselves. “𝘈𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶”

“𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘺𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸. 𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦, 𝘠/𝘕. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵”

↳ a/n: idk where I was going with this —

— 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘰 𝘹𝘰

𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

156 notes · View notes

from-izzy · 4 months

Text

the warmest winter | tbz choi chanhee | new

"She has a date with me tomorrow."

PAIRING » tbz choi chanhee (new) x fem!reader TROPE/AU » childhood friends to lovers, fake dating au, non-idol au!, high school au! GENRE » fluffy fluff with a touch of angst, reader is a skater! (has her hair up in a bun), chanhee is very jelly of juyeon (hehe), but also chanhee is just jealous in general (...hehe), fake dating (i tried my best ahhhh), juyeon makes an appearance as jealous chanhee's rival WORD COUNT » 5805 ESTIMATED READING TIME » ~21 mins WARNINGS (lmk if i missed anything!) » very inaccurate depiction of skating in general (writing this made me miss skating...), very fast proofreading (twice)

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

hi @astrae4 !! yes, i'm your secret santa!! 🤭 sorry (not really hehe) for tricking you into thinking otherwise 🫢 it was very cute and funny to hear you say "it's definitely not you" when we were on call 🤣 had my camera been on, i wouldn't have gotten away with it 😫 just to let you know that @heemingyu was also playing along too (thanks for that and reading this, honey bee!) 😁 don't be too mad, dek! 😭 i'm innocent—

There are many good things about having a best friend who has known you since you were in diapers.

For you, the funniest reason would be how you would dead stare him across the room, with the straightest and plainest face, him directing one back at you. It sends the others into a fit of confusion, worries and frustration as none could ever figure out what’s in the duo’s minds. The chaotic reason would be that you would both wreak havoc together. Like that one time during the last day of primary school when you both decide to fill up thirty water balloons to their full capacity and throw them to any of the teachers in the outdoor field, fearless of the possibility of getting in trouble as graduation was around three hours after. The embarrassing reason would be that Chanhee would come to cheer you on your sport, luxuriously with his branded clothes from all his hard work, holding his big handmade slogan to support you as you glide across the ice to your routine. He would always get an earful from you after but he got his karma when you came in, dressed in highlighter yellow, sitting on the front row seat to his singing performance.

It’s the day that everyone has realised that the two of you are menaces to society.

The comforting reason, and is one of the biggest reasons why you two are still stuck to the hip after a decade, would be that when your lips are pouted, eyes glistening with tears, hugging your knees to your chest and whimpering your worries in the night, Chanhee would sit beside you wordlessly. Patiently waiting for you to cry your feelings out, patting your back rhythmically as he sometimes let time pass by scrolling through his phone, occasionally showing the funny reel on his screen to get you to join in his laughs. For him, the moment of calmness when you both would hit the breaks to your chaotic lives would be the best ones too with Friday nights becoming obligatory ‘brake time to get a break from society’ which can sometimes be too much.

But this Friday is a bit different.

Your final skating competition before you graduate high school is coming up in less than a month and despite the nervous butterflies growing in your stomach, you’re still very much excited to participate. You’re somewhat confident that you’ll do well, especially with all the experience that you have and the achievements and trophies that show off your hard work. But all of that didn’t stop you from agreeing to the voice in your head that tells you to put your blades on and just bask in the cold. Feeling nervous is a given but you have to believe in yourself that you can win this scholarship to your dream university.

The blades of your skates glide smoothly across the new ice sheet that has recently resurfaced once more. This is the second time that you had to step out of the rink and it shows the duration that you’ve spent without thinking much. Even when the doors to the public were closed, through your coach and her connections to the people who work at the rink, you were able to stay for even longer. Staying on the ice also meant that you were separated from your phone, leaving everyone on delivered for another two hours.

But Chanhee knows your habits, driving to the ice rink and pushing the still-unlocked front door to see you skating leisurely without a care in the world. He smiles warmly behind his blue scarf, delighted at the little smile and satisfying self-cheer when you land correctly, scratching the ice with your achievements once again. Silently, he sits down on one of the benches, going on his phone but still occasionally looking at your dancing figure once in a while.

You don’t know how you missed a whole hour of another person’s presence—or maybe it’s because you’re so used to and comfortable with him that you don’t notice him—but you literally almost trip from the ice and the edge of the ice rink when you spot your best friend with his Hello Kitty beanie that you gifted him this year for his birthday.

“Slow down.” He tries to hold his laughter when you let out a puff of air, annoyed at your clumsiness. “You should come eat. I’m sure you forgot about that.”

The mention of food and the familiar takeout bag from your favourite place brightens your face, the corners of your lips lifting immensely and you kick off your shoes, tiptoeing in the cold and wet puddles to quickly fill up your stomach after a successful practice session.

“Knew I could count on you.”

“Duh.” He rolls his eyes playfully. “I feel so bad for your stockings, I swear.” Commenting on your slightly damp black fabric.

The only response he got was the way you rub the watered part onto his pants, him shrieking and sliding himself away from you on the bench, only for you to of course follow him. In the end, when he reaches the end of the aluminium seat, he only groans and tells you off, giving an empty warning that he’ll never pick you up and buy you food ever again. When you put your tongue out, making a funny face to him, his cheeks blush hues of red and pink in the dimly lit seating area—you didn’t see it though as you were too focused on the flavours bursting in your mouth.

When you fully focus back on your food once again, leaving him in his little world, Chanhee buries his lower face further into his scarf, away from your field of vision. He leans a little bit back to make sure he can just admire you without being too obvious. His heart flutters when his mind replays back to your mischievous and cute face, and the way you didn’t mind being so close to his face—though he was freaking out about it all.

But how could he ever tell you? Because he can’t even explain to you when he started to fall for you. Was it that time when you ran to him at primary school, winging about how you needed a friend to get ice cream? Or that time when you stayed by his side and continued to support him when he hit the hard times while he was preparing for his first performance in high school? What about that time when you would just lay on his shoulder and listen to his worries, completely understanding his thoughts, never judging him through words or facial expressions?

He can’t even make sense of it to himself. Let alone with you.

“I’m annoyed.” Your voice trails off in the big area but it reaches his ears easily.

Judging from the way your feet kick the air and the accommodating tone of your voice with your words, Chanhee’s lips pull into a straight line. “Another one?” followed by a deep chuckle and a frustrated sigh from you.

“It’s not that funny, okay? You know I’m bad at rejecting…”

He ponders the thought behind your words, nodding as his memories play the series or tears after politely and in some cases, not as kindhearted, rejecting the ones who made an advance for you. When asked why those tears were showing, you commented how “it didn't feel right” and alternatives to “he didn't feel at home. He likes me because of my appearance. He's never even talked to me!”

Chanhee wishes that it would never be like that for him. But it's okay, for he would never tell you his feelings for you anyway.

The realization weighed deeply in his heart, resonating hurt throughout his entire body. He glances over at you, hopefully discreetly, with how much love he could give you at any time. Impulsively, acting with a tinge of jealousy and possessiveness, the suggestion curled out from his tongue without another thought.

“Date me instead.”

Your feet stop kicking the air and both of your bodies are now stiff with widened eyes, as if the cold finally got to you guys.

“What?”

It sends Chanhee into a momentary faze and the blush on his cheeks spreads through not only his face but his entire body.

“Fake!”

“HUH?”

“Like, fake dating!”

Then the implications behind his words finally sink into you. You didn’t realise this before but the idea does seem great for someone like you who has been trying to get people off your case. It’s tiring, especially when you can’t find a proper connection with either of them—none of them was better than your connection with Chanhee.

“For once in your life,” Your hand gives him a firm pat on his shivering shoulders, “you have come up with a great idea.”

Playing off the slight hurt in his heart, knowing that from your words that you didn’t see him anymore than just friends, Chanhee bravely flashes you a smile. “Do you want to or not?”

“...what’s the catch?” The growing grin on his face tells you everything. “I know you, Choi Chanhee. There’s no way something as taxing and effortful as dealing with me, has no catch to this agreement. Tell me!”

“The catch is,” he takes off his scarf, exposing the lower half of his face to you. Carefully, he wraps the dark blue material around yours, no longer seeing the exhaling white air, “that you get to listen to whatever I say.”

Adding a little touch to this, he bops the tip of your nose earning a deep grunt and shove from you but your hands still held on to the top edge of his scarf, enjoying the familiar scent and warmth that came from it.

“Does that soothe your chaotic mind?”

“Mhm.” You hum in agreement, feeling your neck loosen from all the tension from the previous regular meetups that you both will have. Especially with you being so busy the entire time, it was nearly impossible to meet up with Chanhee unless he was the one going all the way for you.

“Nothing will change.” Chanhee shrugs. “We’re just…us. Everyone is already thinking that we’re dating anyway so the only thing that'll change is more hand-holding and all that.”

“No kissing!”

“W-Wha--Of course not!” This time, you were shoved back. “Who wants to kiss you anyway? You literally drool in your sleep!”

“Hey!” With each growing rebuttal, so did the echo that bounced within the walls, “Don’t say that! You know how lonely, I am! That’s so mean!”

The laughing boy didn’t do much to ease you, just sticking a tongue out at you. He did, however, reach out to hold your icy hand. It made him frown, the little mountain growing on his lips. Suddenly, the gap between your body closes with him wrapping a secure hold of your waist. Confused by the sudden proximity, you let out a string of stutters as you look up to see him already staring at you.

“W-What are you…doing…?”

“We’re dating now.” He shrugs nonchalantly, “You have to get used to this.”

“No one is here, Chanhee.”

He has never been one to initiate skinship. It has always been you cuddling up to his side like a koala, clinging and dragging him to every single place that you wanted to go.

“J-Just…leave me alone and let me hug you.” And he did. Your upper body twists to completely face him and your chin goes over the scarf to rest on his padded jacket. The height difference is why he had to bend to your figure, basically slumping over you but neither of you minded. With a clear of his throat without another word or action, he lets you go, stands up and asks for your hand. “It’s too cold. Let’s go, I’ll drop you home.”

“Wait Chanhee…”

You drag the last syllable and the hand that reaches out for you slowly lowers. Chanhee sighs, knowing that it can't be good judging from the tone and the way your lips pull sideways.

“I need to rant about my upcoming duet routine.”

“Oh.”

He remembers the first time when you did perform once with someone else. Of course in group work, your effort and contributions matter just as much as theirs would matter to you. But your first (and what you hoped to be your last) partner ruined all potentially happy thoughts about performing with someone else. It sucked that even though you both did win a place at the podium, the stress and effort of basically choreographing at least ninety percent of the routine was not worth the bronze medal on the podium.

For a short while, it killed you to be on the ice and you refused to even step back there without a pressing reason. You're thankful that your coach has always been an understanding one because if she wasn't, your career in figure skating would be shredded at this point. Chanhee did help too, reminding you of the joy and laughter, even making himself borrow some skates from his friend. It led to bruises and him face-planting into the pile of snow but at least he got to see the way your eyebags disappeared over time.

That's more than worth it for him.

“You'll be alright.” He reassured first, kneeling to get into eye level with you even though yours is downcasted. He knows that your mind would go back to the past. “You got a shit partner but you'll be fine. I promise you that you'll do better this time.”

“I hope…”

“Who is it with this time?”

Despite breathing the cool air whenever you could, you could never get enough of it.

“Lee Juyeon.”

Something inside him stops. Time didn't though because from his peripherals, he noticed how you stood and skipped your way down to the ground floor, patting your outfit dry as if some sort of ice or dust had dirtied it. He hears your announcement, shouting that you will get your things ready from the back room and miraculously, he lets out a croaked answer in return.

Lee Juyeon.

Everyone in school loved him, Chanhee included. Most wanted to date him, others wanted to be him while the remaining loathed the way he was perfect in every way. In short, Lee Juyeon is the total opposite of Choi Chanhee.

He prefers to spend his days quietly in the library alone while Juyeon prefers to attend parties. While Chanhee would be in his bed sleeping in the morning, Juyeon would be taking his daily morning run before rushing back home to shower and get ready for the school day. When Juyeon would be in his weekly student council meetings, Chanhee would eat ice cream at that nearby restaurant, basking in the sweetness after a stressful day.

This unfamiliar feeling sends Chanhee into a slight brain freeze when he imagines you both not only close physically but the fact that you will be near the perfect boy for the majority of your time—and the fact that he won't be able to spend time with you because you'll be busy with other priorities—makes the green feeling inside his chest grow with the devil snickering inside his head. He was still so deep in thought that he didn't even notice you wave your hands infront of his face despite having his eyes seemingly on your face.

“It's almost midnight.” You say, opting to drag him out of the building with a hold of his clothed wrist. “Daydream later, loser.”

Oh, you're so right about that. And he's in deep trouble about it all.

What he didn’t truly prepare for, however, is the number of times that you would leave him on delivered, responding to his messages from the beginning of the day to the end in one go, buzzing his phone repeatedly when he’s doing his final skin routine before sleep takes over him. He’s still understanding, knowing how the competition is important for you. At least she still answers me back right? He reassures himself while throwing the face mask away, the cooling air on his face suddenly turns his mind back to the short ‘date’ from the other day.

He still remembers the pink checkered shorts that you paired with a simple button white long sleeve. Your hair is freed in the wind, taking the scent of your shampoo—to him. The struggles of keeping his palm dry when it’s around yours, and the bigger struggle to keep his skin neutral void of any redness whenever he catches a glance of your smile.

“Once more!” You plead, handing your phone back to him after switching back to the camera app.

Despite the roll of his eyes, he’s thankful that the device hid his face from yours, even if it’s only a while. He focuses on the screen and your figure, arguably more than the technology. He directs your poses: hands collecting your hair into a bun, looking down at your feet while the other shot is one of you puckering your lips, looking to the side with a quick peace sign.

Both became his lock and home screen using the excuse of making the relationship more believable—we know more than that though.

It fuels his hate for himself and Juyeon when he texts you that he finished the final part of the routine, asking if you’re free to test it out with him.

After that, school was the only place where you would exchange smiles, stick out tongues, share food, hugs and even kisses on each other’s cheeks, Chanhee only found himself in deep trouble. The public display of affection did make other boys leave you alone, gulping and scurrying away in masses when he would throw them a side glare, his hand on your waist tightening his hold each time.

It would drag your attention to him, whenever he does that. Such a new feeling, yet fluttering and intimate. You would clutch the loose fabric of his shirt, hand once relaxed on his chest. Brown eyes would run over the creases of disgust and the lines of fury across his usual soft, kind face. Whenever you would ask him for a peek inside his mind, his eyes would quickly turn to the ones that he would usually show whenever he would laugh and nag you to put your upper body back inside his car in the late-night drives. Or when you would do your night routines together every single time, without fail—for your information, it’s been two weeks since then.

Sure it’s all for show, but two weeks ago when he proposed the idea, it seemed that nothing had changed for him and even though he’s glad that no one is crazily chasing after you anymore, it hurt that he feels like he’s been abandoned by you. Heck, he hasn’t even taken you out for a ‘date’ yet. Friendly date, ‘fake’ date. The label that you would put on it didn’t matter much for him as long he took some of your time.

So now, with the owl hooting outside his window, dressed and ready to sleep with his Hello Kitty pyjamas, something is telling him to pick up his keys from the handmade bowl that you both messily painted as kids, go for some drive-through to pick up your favourite food and drive to the ice rink.

The sight that greeted him when he did reach his destination caused the paper cup in his hand to spill all over the rubber of the ice rink. The low-pitched clatter stops the laughs that erupt from you and the male who had his arms wrapped around your waist, his defined chest pressing comfortably against your exposed back due to your outfit, is the one who straightens his back first, noticing the painful gaze from outside the rink.

But again, Juyeon is everything Chanhee isn’t.

The way that Juyeon let out that signature ‘oh’ of his with the sickening way that he hollers a greeting to the envious boy, not even bothering to throw a discouraging comment that would hurt his pride and would then rightfully give a reason to hate him that has a glad upturned smile on his face, Chanhee would’ve run straight back to the door that he opened excitedly before. Just like your skating partner, you also let out an ‘oh!’ at his presence and he couldn’t help but think that now, Juyeon isn’t taking away his time with you anymore but also the way you speak.

Leisurely gliding your way towards the railing of the enclosed rink, the anterior side of your forearm rests, your feet still making little circles on the part of the rink that wouldn’t usually be given that much attention to professional skaters like you.

“Having fun?” It came out more venomous and spiteful than he thought. Even his eyes widened slightly in fear, seeing a similar look in your eyes. But he maintains eye contact with you, the paper of the takeaway scrunching rapidly under his hold.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. See you tomorr—”

“She has a date with me tomorrow.”

“Wait, Chanh—”

“Right?”

It’s so impossible to miss. Not with the way that maybe if Chanhee blinks, the normal act could’ve probably sent his eyes into a newfound breakdown that he has been trying so desperately to hide. Especially not in front of Juyeon, he’s not about to cry now.

Your chest raises, inhaling the stuffy air to your beating lungs. Lips parted to start speaking your thoughts and Chanhee watched with a more definite crease between his eyebrows as you could only articulate the sounds of some familiar words, unable to audibly tell him anything. For what seemed like forever, you both just looked at each other. You tilt your head every single time your best friend directs his attention away to his house slippers back to your eyes. Beneath the tough exterior that he’s putting on, it’s easy for you to see how something is troubling him.

The first one is his attire. Unless you were in a life-or-death situation, there is no way Chanhee would stain the white satin button-up and long pants. There was one time when you were begging profusely for a late-night snack and spontaneous hangout but even then, he just nodded and hummed into the phone, telling you that he needs to “keep the white pure, away from the sins of the outside world.”

Juyeon quietly leaves the scene, hand giving a tight squeeze before disappearing for the night.

“Let’s sit down?” You offer, uncertainty clouding your judgement.

The bench awaits patiently for you, the jacket lazily slopped over it. You’re so tense and unsure about the situation that even taking the steps up the dry stairs was so quiet—more silent than the shaking exhales that the puff of coloured air made due to the cold. Your fingers brush against the fine hair of the material but you didn’t put it on yourself. The tips of your hair flip around to see your best friend not even anywhere near the bottom step, still frozen in the same place as before.

Knowing that you won’t be in the mood to skate after whatever confrontation and conversation you’ll have with him, you pack your bags, slipping off into comfortable shoes for running—if you really have to. Chanhee’s bangs fell over his eyes easily with the downward tilt of his head, a miracle that his neck wasn’t cramping right now. From the shadows on the ground, a long line goes over his head and his shoulder lazes a new heavy material. The body part tries to shake the warmth stubbornly but a click of your tongue is what stops Chanhee from flopping around like a dying fish.

“Did you know my dad used to be in the mafia?”

It’s supposed to take you both out of this challenging atmosphere but you know that even though his eyes are hidden because of his posture and his grown strands, he isn’t going to return the playfulness. The strap of your backpack is the only one that knows your nervousness, croaking due to the leather material, your nails probably engraving this moment into its skin.

“Juyeon…huh?”

A broken laugh comes out from you, eyes wandering to the background space around his head area. Has the wall always had that crack on the wall? Oh…how is the fly surviving in this weather? Is it raining outsi—

“Do you like Juyeon?”

“W-What?” Why did the question hurt so much to hear? “I’m dating you, Chanhee.”

“I don’t think anyone believes it to be honest.” He shrugs, adamant about staying focused on the topic. “I just wanted to know,” His eyes dart around the place, anywhere but to you, “wanting to know if you’re part of the ninety percent of our cohort that likes him.”

“Oh.” It was out of nowhere but being suspicious isn’t the right word to describe it. It was more to curiosity as to why Chanhee would just ask such a thing all of a sudden. “I do think he’s attractive.” You shrug leisurely, unaware of the screaming in his head. “He’s a good partner too.”

Chanhee tries his best to mask the growing ache in his chest, blankly nodding. “He is your type after all.”

“I have a type?” One of your eyebrows rises, “I didn’t even know that myself.”

“Right…” Finally, the food is shoved into your chest, just like how it’s always been. If so, then why did it hurt you when he told you, “Date him then.”

An immeasurable kind of clench was made by the muscles around your heart.

“W-What?”

Thank god you changed shoes because he stormed out right after.

Your phone also became silent, no more life was given to Chanhee. What annoyed you most wasn’t the ‘good’ news that spread to the boys but the fact that he would make it so obvious that he hated you whenever you would make your presence known to him.

“Talk to him after this.” Juyeon encourages you, handing your bottle of water from his hand.

“I can’t.” You huffed. “He treats me like a plague.”

You quite literally cannot have this in your mind right now. The competition is in a few hours and you messed up both of your rehearsals for tonight. The slight pain that throbs from your lower palm will be, you swear, used to slap someone who truly deserves a wake-up call. As the sun rose each day for the past week, it also burnt along your hopes that Chanhee would talk and ease your worries so that you could dance freely, marking your perfect twirls on the ice that shines along with you.

Juyeon’s eyes relax, sending you a slumped smile with half-lidded eyes. “Does he know about tonight?”

You did indeed send him a message about today but you’re doubtful that he would come. You even tried bribing him with free food but maybe the boy knows that your anger might turn to something more, saving himself from your hits and complaints.

But you’re just unaware of what he’s truly trying to save himself from.

The sunset marks the start of the open doors. Relatives, schoolmates, acquaintances and even strangers bustle through with their appropriate clothes—including a young girl with short sleeves that you are sure would throw a fit to ask her mother for a jacket—all gathered to support the skaters, especially those who have university representatives to impress.

With the cute bright pink mittens, the waving hands catch your attention quickly. You send a quick wave back to your sister who waves the supportive banner she made, along with your parents who gave you thumbs up, placing their hands around the circumference of their mouth to shout and holler at you.

It’s all so awesome.

But it would’ve been perfect had someone else come.

The realisation makes your heart drop. Chanhee has always come to all your competitions without fail but this one, when everything is on the line. Before you have to completely push your phone away, your thumbs search for his contacts, automatically just checking in your recent section. Even though the relationship between you is ambiguous, you couldn’t find it in you to change his name which implies a romantic title for him.

It seems right.

It seemed that no one should have that title but him.

Your eyelids collect as much water as they can before it spills onto the phone screen. It seemingly glitches the words on the glass, distorting your spam messages for him. “Just come…please…” you whisper before texting him the same exact words that you just said.

But he decides to crush the final hopes that you ever had in him, leaving you on seen once again. The familiar shout that gathers all the players rings through your ears and Juyeon’s figure behind you also tells you that it’s time to push Chanhee aside for now.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Ju…” The truth spills out and even though the boy has things to ask, he decides to let you rant before going. “But I want him to be.”

You know this now with the distance he puts between you.

It’s suffocating.

More than dehydration. More than the minus temperature. More than the scratch on your hand.

“I just want him, Juyeon…” Beads in your eyes, shaking lips and true feelings. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He nods, wishing the best for you. “I knew that my feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated.”

It lifted off a weight in your chest, knowing that Juyeon’s reassurance that you would both still stay friends. You both sway beautifully on the ice, balancing and leaving the audience in awe, judges in amazement and competitors in envy. If there is one thing you can take away from this, is that for you, being on ice with someone else can truly be fun. You both promise to meet each other on the ice next time, in the future, professionally and relieve this perfect teammate chemistry once again.

And now, you’re shaking your limbs, trying your best to ease your nerves.

Still no sign of him.

You force your neck to look down, just focusing on the marks of the moulded plastic and leather, plunging the front spikes of the shoes into the floor.

“That’s…going to make a mark.”

That voice.

The one that could ever stare at you with a blank stare and contain his laughter. The one that would leave others in fear whenever a sinister smile and wiggling of eyebrows would be sent to each other. The same one that stands beside you, taking the blame alone when the drenched teacher finds you both.

The same one that would usually sit by your sister and make the banner with her, splashing on extra glitter and Hello Kitty stickers. The same one that would lend his luxury brand accessories, not getting mad if you accidentally broke it.

It propels you forward to his already half-opened arms, waiting for you, always reserved for you. Just as you promised to yourself, Chanhee takes the hits on his chest, listening to your words and letting his clothes seep your cries.

“I know, I’m sorry.” One hand encircles your waist from behind, the other patting your hairsprayed scalp. “I won’t lie that I skipped the one you did with Juyeon but I know your parents recorded it so,” he shrugs, “but I’m here for the main performance. Yours.”

Your small chuckle made him do the same. “You’re not wearing a stupid outfit.”

Chanhee hums. “I thought I would be a very supportive friend and won’t embarrass you for this event.”

“Boyfriend.”

“W-What?”

“You’re my boyfriend.”

It leaves him in a daze but he knows that you weren’t joking. To him, his gulp seemed a bit loud but maybe with the way you slowly left his arms, you might’ve missed it.

“I love you, Chanhee.” Your eyes searched for rejection but all he did was blink at you rapidly. You took this as a sign to keep going. “I think I always have and you being idiotic just made it clear to me.”

“O-Oh…”

“D-Do you—” You shake your head, waving your hands the same way to him. “Actually don’t tell me! Let me skate first. J-Just watch me…”

When was the last time Chanhee has seen you so flustered? It leaves him breathless and his heart soaring and he knows within himself that he wants to be the only one to ever put you in that state. He gives a nod, a smile plastered on his face. You thought he would join your parents on the bench but he stays near the entrance of the rink, giving your lower back the lightest touch, whispering you a final message before you enter the spotlight.

The message rings in your ear the whole time. The music suddenly fades but every time you could catch a glimpse of Chanhee, you know that he didn’t say it for you to feel flustered and fail.

And fail, did you not.

The reward on the podium with a gold medal hanging around your neck sends you many obstacles of representatives who want you to join the team. But they could wait.

Just like a few minutes ago, your arms circles his neck, pushing Chanhee’s lips to your own. A few seconds before your lips meet him, the boy lets out a little ‘hmph’ before he softens, his eyes closing in the same time and way yours does. The way the cold replaces the warmth of his lips leaves you both chuckling even when he momentarily pushes you away to save himself from the tickles that you gave his waist. But once again, the words that he whispers against your shy lips remind you that his eyes have always held the same love that you have given him and the way your lips move passionately in sync with his, tells you that he wasn’t playing around with his words.

With your heart.

With you.

“I love you,” he tells you with his lips.

The motives behind his proposal with this whole fiasco become clear and the redness on your face is no longer due to the energy-consuming routine that you just performed. It deepens when he gives you his mittens, slipping them through your fingers and messaging each one with care. It deepens further when he lends you a fabric to keep your throat healthy so that you can confess to him again. It deepens even more when he realises that you’re shivering after the adrenaline of your sport drains you and he wraps his scent around your uniform.

“Thanks for making my winters warmer.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

84 notes · View notes

sayitdido · 10 months

Text

remunerate ● choi yeonjun

warnings: collage au, handjob and blowjob, praise, slight degradation, slight angst, possesiveness lmk if there is anything else

you felt like there was no way out. even though it was a simple project, you didn't seem to get it short out. it seemed like the only way to get through with this damn project was to ask yeonjun's help.

it would be a lot easier to ask for a favour from him if you weren't head over heels in love with him. he was always on top of everything, this included extremely difficult collage classes.

"you are always on top of everything so my only way to submit the project before deadline is your help. please help me yeonjun." you practically begged on your knees. he must pity you like this, right? unfortunately you had no idea what was crossing his mind. "Y/N, did you really have to wait for the one minute before midnight? it is due tomorrow. it would take our whole day." he simply rejected. yet what he difn't know is that you were determined. you could lose your scholarship after all. "please yeonjun, i really need your help. you are my only hope." you continued to beg.

"is that so?" you nodded as an answer. he smirked before thrust out his hand for you to help you get up. thinking you finally persuaded him, you held his hand.

"okay, i agree only with one condition." your face lighted up for a moment before realization hit. everything had a price. it should be no surprise to you yet you, for a moment, thought that somebody would help out. naivety. that was what it was. even more naive than expected clueless to what his condition was.

that's how you got here. right this moment on your knees after finishing your stupid assignment. god how pitiful you must look.

"yeonjun, i got to confess something." he caresses your cheeks and lifts your hair up to look at him. "yes, i am listening." you are not sure if this is the right time to confess but with the courage this moment gives, you decide to confess your feelings. but even though you basically agreed to use your body for his pleasure in exchange of some last minute papers to be written, you still had pride and didn't want to be only one time use whore for him.

"i love you. that's why i agreed to do this. i wouldn't be on my knees for anyone else. i am not a whore." shocked by your confession, he stops caressing your face. feeling of rejection filling your mind, pulsating like no ever.

he doesn't say anything. removing his pants without blessing you with a response. selfish him. he is selfish but you love him.

so you hug his hard cock with your hands first. back and forth movements against his cock. your pace fastens. his moaning starts.

"that's it, that's a good fucking girl. making me so happy. what a good little helper you are." smiling and whimpering to his praise, it is like you forgot you just confessed to him and he said nothing. your grip tightens around him.

thinking this will probably be the last time, too as much as it is the first time, you study his reactions. how sensitive he is. how whiny he is. how beautiful he is. angelic sounds he makes. facial expressions of his blessing your soul how you might not see those again.

you decide to take him in your mouth crisscrossing your handjob agreement. you want to taste him. you are sure he doesn't mind. so when you get a yes please from him you immediately find yourself toying with his dick with your tongue. teasing him a little.

"don't tease. be my good girl. be my only good girl." his possesive language making the butterflies dance in your stomach. his taste blowing your mind. you start to take him in your mouth. sucking and licking his member while trying to breathe and not choke. his moaning get louder. begging for you to continue. "you are doing so good, such a- a good girl. mine, all mine."

you are not sure if these words are his way of returning your feelings but you are also busy with trying to make most of this moment.

your hand holding the length you cannot fit, his thrusts to your mouth, you doing your best in sucking him, he feels like he is heaven. "the very fucking best fuck i have had. why not earlier, hm? you shy little thing. too shy to confess." you only bring your gaze upon him as an answer since your tries to hum fails. he smirks and confesses "i would have done it for free but thought it is the only way to be with you. but now i see i have an eager girl willing to be my only girl. i will reward her by using her." you struggle to moan as your mouth is full.

"i am close, keep going! just like that, good girl~" he says and you contunie what you have been doing but harder. bringing him closer to edge but suddenly he pulls out just as he was about to cum and starts strocking himself "open your mouth, you want a taste, you will get that taste. but shallow it for me. okay?"

a/n: it has barely has any editing due to my appointment with dentist today. i was suffering so sorry for that. some sentences i worked hard to find the perfect version but not every sentence. like i said due to toothache. so sorry. i planed to release it today so that's what i did.

#txt smut #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun smut #yeonjun #txt fic #txt imagines #txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun imagines #txt #tubatu

175 notes · View notes

ystrike1 · 10 months

Text

My Angelic Husband is actually a Devil in Disguise - By Haemyang (7.5/10)

You have to like bratty yanderes if you want to read this one. Our heroine is a flawless and dignified hard worker. Her husband is a moron who flunked out of school. I do think the premise for this one is kind of unique, but the first part of this love story is a little grating. It's dramatic and annoying!

Setia is the only reasonable member of her family. She can see the writing on the wall. Her father is a very low noble, with a ridiculous sense of pride. His wife overspends. He spends lavishly too, all so he can fit in with the cool kids at the ball. Setia puts herself through school with scholarships. She tries to become a pillar of support for her irresponsible family.

They betray her. As soon as she comes of age her father tries to sell her to a harem. This is a GIGANTIC insult to Setia. Her hard work has been keeping the family afloat, but her father is willing to sell her for quick cash.

Setia is forced to flee.

She makes money doing side jobs, and she's poor??? Justice does not save her. She is able to avoid marriage, but she had to sacrifice her education and future.

It's frankly awful.

This is the useless idiot Count. He is widely regarded as the worst possible husband. His family is wealthy, sure. He's the only heir, sure...but he's a national embarrassment. Literally. If there was another heir he would have been booted years ago. He flunked school. Setia was top of her class, but she's in rags and he has riches.

It's all so unfair.

He knows he's dumb.

So he asks Setia to marry him, for four years under contract. He claims he needs someone to protect the family money while he pulls himself together.

Count Miere has cash, so she says yes.

His chill, easygoing attitude....wins her over?????

Setia is a workaholic. She has lived a dull life.

Miere grows flowers. That's his hobby. They walk through the beautiful paths he planted together, and she relaxes. Miere is a good companion, and he is very lenient with her.

He doesn't act like her boss.

His kindness works on her like magic...

Sudden hint.

Miere has been loaning Setia's family cash.

He thought about killing them too.

Setia did cut ties after all, but he decides to let them live.

.....huh?

Isn't this guy supposed to be a moron?

Miere fucking dies in a bandit attack.

That makes Setia hot, rich and single.

She should be happy.

Her stupid husband died offscreen...but she misses the goof.

She hunts down the bandits for revenge.

She was falling in love.

She sits alone, in his beautiful garden, for three whole years.

The asshole returns alive...with the title of Duke!

You see, Miere isn't a total moron. His parents were murdered. He wanted revenge. He supported the right prince. He played dead for three years. In exchange for putting the prince on the throne he got a Dukedom, and sweet vindictive satisfaction.

He hired Setia because he really needed someone smart to protect his assets when he was gone.

.....he didn’t tell her anything because he WANTED HER TO MOURN HIM. When he learns she hunted down the bandits for him HE'S HAPPY.

Wow what a freak.

He cutely begs for forgiveness and Setia accepts.

....even though a better man has been courting her...

Roynus is a hard worker, like Setia. He is also outgoing, popular and handsome. He deeply loves Setia. He's been trying to win her over for two years.

When Miere returns during the new coronation Roynus literally begs her to pick him instead...in front of Miere.

Reni, Setia's personal maid, knows Miere is a dick. He's not actually stupid, but his actual personality is awful. He's got no friends. He's not sociable. He dedicated too much of his life to revenge, and now he's a weirdo.

Miere has been using Reni to spy on Setia during his absence. He knows how hurt Setia was when he pretended to die...but he just immediately starts whining about how he wants to kill Roynus...

He also casually threatens to murder Reni, because she didn’t include Roynus in her reports to him.

Reni says she didn’t because Roynus fed her yummy food...but it's clear that Reni didn’t rat him out because Setia was lonely.

She needed a friend.

She isolated herself when Miere "died".

Reni respects Setia, so she didn’t report everything to her asshole master.

Miere no longer has to hide. He starts dressing better and he uses his looks to seduce Setia.

...they aren't a bad couple.

They get along really well, but Miere is an ACTUAL BAD GUY. He isn't cursed. He didn’t do bad things for the greater good. Nope! He unseated the old king entirely for revenge. He's clearly been spying on Setia for ages. He's started cutting off her friends. He lies constantly. He hides his bad side from her. The list is endless. He's extremely controlling, and he acts cute about it.

Setia is happy, so I can't really complain, but this guy is GRATING.

He is pretty unique though.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #otome games #otome isekai #otome #My Angelic Husband is actually a Devil in Disguise

187 notes · View notes

flanaganfilm · 11 months

Note

Hey Mike, I’ve really enjoyed reading your long posts on projects you’ve worked on through your career. I was wondering if you could talk a little about your experience in film school and making your student films. I was able to watch Ghosts of Hamilton Street a while ago and found it really interesting how some of the same themes in that film have been consistent through all of your work and have really liked seeing the progression and progress you’ve made in your stories since. Thanks!

Oh wow, deep pull here. I don't often talk about these movies, which I think of as the "Towson Trilogy."

They were amazing learning experiences, but aren't really fit for public consumption. I consider them an incredible, irreplaceable film school, but I've gone out of my way to not to help them become available - they just aren't on a level that I'd feel comfortable putting out into the world.

So let's go back to 1998.

I was an undergrad at Towson University in Maryland. I had dreamed of being a filmmaker for most of my childhood, and had made a few backyard movies on VHS with friends, and some VHS shorts in high school. But the idea of a career in filmmaking was very farfetched. My father was in the U.S. Coast Guard and my mother was a medical office manager. They were always very supportive of my little "movie projects," but also very much invested in my education and wanted me to focus on careers that were more likely. A career making movies seemed very, very unrealistic, and I spent my senior year of High School focusing on coming up with a "real job" I could get passionate about. As I graduated High School, I had let go of the filmmaking dream and was hoping to get enough scholarship money so I could afford to go to Loyola University Maryland, where I wanted to major in secondary education.

I was going to be a high school history teacher.

I didn't get enough scholarship money to attend Loyola, so I ended up enrolling at Towson University (then called Towson State) instead. I was initially very disappointed by this outcome, but it turned out to be one of the best things that happened in my life.

I was still planning on following the education track, but I felt discouraged and bruised by missing out on Loyola. So as I filled out my freshman electives, I signed up for Intro to Film on a lark. I mean, my hopes and dreamed hadn't panned out. I didn't get into my first choice school (or my second, for that matter) and here I was.

Why not?

It was immediately clear to me that this was what I wanted to do with my life. It was what I'd always wanted to do, if I was honest - I had been making all of those little movies, I lived and breathed movies, I had been saying since I was kid that I wanted to make movies for a living, and here was my chance to learn more about that world. I was hooked immediately. I started to ignore my other classes in favor in spending more time in the Mass Communications department (there wasn't an official "film" major at Towson); so what if this wasn't a "real job," so what if I didn't have a chance in hell of being a professional filmmaker... I had access to cameras. That meant I could make movies.

This happened to coincide with an exciting time in independent filmmaking. Spike Lee, Edward Burns, Kevin Smith, Jim Jarmusch - we would talk excitedly about the rumored budget of Robert Rodriguez's El Mariachi (everyone said it was just seven thousand bucks!), we would talk between classes about the filmmakers who were forging careers out of thin air on shoestring budgets. People were breaking the rules, and bucking the system. Careers were being made on one rogue film. They weren't climbing the ladder; they were suing for membership. Make a movie, then make a career. Independent Film was the way in. The odds might be against you, but if your number came up... man, you were on your way.

I had a substitute teacher in one of my film classes. His name was Steve Yeager and he'd just won the filmmaker's trophy at Sundance for his documentary about local hero John Waters, a movie called Divine Trash. He was the toast of Baltimore at the time, and he spoke breathlessly about the independent filmmakers who were leading the charge and finding audiences outside of the studio system. He told the students that any of us could do this - any of us could make a movie, especially using this brand new technology called:

DIGITAL VIDEO.

Steve argued that DV had democratized filmmaking, and cited filmmakers like Mike White, whose DV feature Chuck and Buck had just hit the festival scene. Dogme 95, the creative movement founded by the Danish directors Lars von Trier and Thomas Vinterberg, was the talk of all the cinephiles. Not only could we make a movie, Steve declared, we could make it for a fraction of the cost that most filmmakers had had to bear over the years when dealing with purchasing and processing film.

I had been inspired by movies like Clerks, The Brothers McMullen, and Stranger Than Paradise - I was working on my own script, a slice of life story called Makebelieve, which was focused on the only slice of life I knew anything about: a college kid,,, who loved movies... and... had a crush on a girl.

You write what you know, I guess.

Now, our little Mass Comm program at Towson was a great way to get experience making movies, but we made them as part of a group. The best case scenario was waiting until you were an upperclassman and hoping you'd be able to direct a short film with your classmates, but most students never got their turn directing. Some students would labor through the department for four years but never sit in a director's chair when the senior projects came around. I was too impatient to wait for that. I wanted to be like Kevin Smith, Mike White and Ed Burns - I wanted to make my movie, my way, right now.

I was actively averse to commercial viability (an allergy it took me far too long to overcome), utterly enamored with the emerging mumblecore "indie film" vibe of the time, and convinced that a movie comprised of extended conversations about collegiate dating would make for riveting entertainment. I had several friends in the Theater Department, enlisted the help of my roommate Dave Foster, and pretty soon we were doing table reads and shooting proof-of-concept trailers on miniDV.

Raising money for the movie was a huge challenge. A girlfriend had managed to get ahold of Bruce Campbell's email (it was the worst-kept secret on the fledgling internet at the time), and I emailed him to invite him to be part of our little movie. He actually wrote back - he declined participation (for reasons that are astonishingly obvious to me now) but was kind enough to send some advice for the production. We were so grateful he took the time to respond that we named our production company after our favorite line from Army of Darkness... we were Sugarbaby Productions.

Steve Yeager, my substitute teacher, had told the class "if any of you write a feature film, I will do what I can to help you produce it." I came up to him after class and handed him the script for Makebelieve. He looked a little shocked, but he agreed to read the script. He did, and he liked it, and for reasons I may never understand, he said "okay, fine. I'll produce your movie."

Steve was true to his word. He didn't bring money (it would have been certifiably insane if he had), but he used his connections to find a crew of professionals in Baltimore willing to work on a little college movie. We had fundraisers, we had bake sales, we sold T-shirts on campus to raise cash to shoot. We hit up every family member and friend for possible investment (my parents, to their endless credit, put up more money than they could afford), and we scraped together enough to shoot the thing.

We filmed Makebelieve on miniDV in over the summer of 1999. The University gave us access to its facilities to use for locations, we had the run of campus, and our tiny cast and crew received independent study credit for their participation in the film.

The technology wasn't quite the amazing godsend people had made it out to be. It was low resolution, there was not yet anything that allowed you to change frame rate; everything still had that "soap opera" feeling you get with 30 fps.

We compensated for this by emulating a Hal Hartley film I'd seen at festival called Book of Life, which had opted for a slower shutter speed to give the film a dreamy, smeary look that hid the frame rate. We shot at a 1/15s shutter speed, and the movie looked a bit like an acid trip... but at least it didn't move like a soap opera.

The finished movie... well, it's not very good.

It was my first feature, it wasn't really about much of anything, but it had some fun dialog and a truly committed young cast. It had promise. And we finished the thing! That was the biggest miracle. It was the best film school I could ever hope for - a trial by fire that pulled me through each and every phase of production and forced me to learn on the job.

The film was rejected by every single major film festival - my dreams of being the next Sundance breakout auteur were dashed very quickly. But we had our world premiere at the Maryland Film Festival in 2000, to a sold out crowd, and that was the single biggest night of my young life up until that point.

I was completely hooked. I knew the film was deeply flawed, and I was eager for another at-bat - I knew I could do better.

I wouldn't wait long. I had already written a script for an "edgy" follow-up to Makebelieve called Still Life. It was "edgy" because it featured a more nihilistic plot, about a group of photography majors who begin exploiting elements of their lives for their senior thesis project, and in doing so get disconnected from their lives by examining them through lenses (Get it?! Man, I sure was a film student, wasn't I)

I had gone through a bad breakup after Makebelieve was done, an engagement that had ended and broken my young heart. Frankly, we were just babies - I really had no business whatsoever trying to get married at 21 - but I wrote that breakup into the script and let the bitterness rip. Edgy, right?

I used most of the same cast from Makebelieve (thus beginning a habit that still holds true today) and set about trying to find money to make the film.

The issue was how to raise money. We had already knocked on every door to finance Makebelieve and nobody got their money back; the movie never sold. Investing in independent films is one of the highest risk investments you can make. We'd turned over every single rock we could think of last time, how the hell were we going to do that again?

We courted more investors, including some professional risk takers and VC people. An accountant named Harry Rosen drummed up a bunch of investors in exchange for a role in the film (he played the grandfather of one of the leads). This movie had more money than the last, and it wasn't from friends and family by and large - it was from people who were giving and expecting much more.

We shot Still Life in the summer of 2000, just after Makebelieve had premiered (even then, I couldn't wait for one movie to come out before starting another). It was a more ambitious shoot across the board. And again, it was a phenomenal learning experience. And again, the movie wasn't quite... good.

The first cut was 180 minutes long. Yep, 180. The Final Cut is... 75 mins long. So... yeah, it was probably a few drafts undercooked.

It was indulgent, it was uneven, and it was spectacularly self-important. But it got into some more festivals - quite a few more than Makebelieve -and it even won some awards.

See, the rise of digital video meant an avalanche of digital movies. It had democratized filmmaking after all - suddenly, the sheer volume of submissions at film festivals increased by a factor of ten. And with that many thousands of extra movies flooding the festival market, the laws of supply and demand kicked in - there were suddenly a LOT more film festivals.

And there were film festivals who weren't terribly scrupulous. There were festivals who only existed to collect submissions fees, and they'd accept movies that otherwise would never have made it into a fest, so long as they thought they could make some money of the filmmakers. Some of the fests we played back then soon became notorious for running these kinds of scams. But it wasn't nearly as difficult to get into festivals as it once was... and it wasn't nearly as difficult to win awards.

One of the festivals we were accepted into was in Los Angeles, and I came out to LA for the first time in my life for the screening. While here, I started making plans to move to California. It seemed impossible, daring, and crazy at the time - I had no money, my movie had some laurels on the poster but wasn't commercially viable - and I had no idea how to pull it off. But I decided then, walking around Santa Monica late one night after a screening: as soon as I graduated from Towson, I'd move to LA.

But it turned out graduation was a long ways off.

Still Life took up an enormous amount of time, and I fell behind on my studies. The film never did find a distributor. It played a few dozen fests (some of which were downright predatory) and then it was over.

Itching to keep shooting stuff but certainly out of fundraising options, I ended up part of a startup production company consisting of a recent grad and another student at Towson, and we actually got a couple industrial jobs around Baltimore. I took a semester off to focus on the work. Graduation got pushed back. And then I took another semester off when more gigs came in. I finally graduated in May 2002, two years later than I'd planned. My production company had gone bust (we had no idea what we were doing) but we did some good commercial and industrial work and I got some experience trying to manage a business.

I had also wised up in one very important respect: I had kept writing scripts this whole time (you really can't help it, if you're a writer) and I had finally decided to embrace GENRE.

I had written a script called Ghosts of Hamilton Street. On the outside, it looked like an episode of The Twilight Zone; the plot centered around a washed-up alcoholic who starts to notice people in his life disappearing without a trace... but whenever one of them goes, the world around him completely rewrites itself as though they never existed at all.

I thought I was starting to play with genre conventions, doing a light sci-fi story that would be fun and character-forward. What I was really doing, though, was dealing with the fact that a lot of my closest friends from college had graduated on time, two years before me, and gone out into their adulthoods. I missed them, and I felt that my world was altered with each of their absences. I was starting to get introspective.

This was about something. It was about regret, it was transition, it was about losing one's comfortable world and heading into the unknown. It was about my regret for my failed engagement (and my exploitation of it for Still Life), and about the friends who had gone ahead into adulthood without me. It was also, I realize now, about having a drinking problem. I wouldn't really understand this, or take any action to fix it, for fifteen more years.

For now, I just knew this one felt a little different. It had an engine. I had something to talk about for the first time in my filmmaking career. This one wasn't a class project, just fumbling around with the technical realities of production; this had a tiny, infant, unformed little voice in there. It was small, it was buried, but it was there.

So how could we finance it?

Okay. You're not going to believe this, but it's true... I've never really talked about this publicly before, but it's the truth so here goes:

A good friend of mine, a fellow student at Towson, was hit one night by a Papa Johns delivery car while crossing the street. He settled with the company and came into a lot of money. He invested some of that to finance Ghosts, and... well... that's how we did it.

Yep, you read that right: my third feature was financed because a friend of mine got hit by a pizza delivery guy. So when people ask me what advice I have for fundraising, unless I say "start shoving your friends in front of delivery vehicles", I'm being a bit of a hypocrite.

My friend was now a bonafide executive producer, and he was walking normally again, so we were off to make a movie!

It was a modest budget compared to the sprawling mess that was Still Life, but the digital video technology had advanced - we were now shooting in 24p, and for the first time in my career, my little digital features actually moved like a movie.

Again, the cast brought back some familiar faces from Makebelieve and Still Life. We held auditions for the other parts.

One of the fellow Towson students who auditioned for a role was a girl I knew tangentially from the theater department. She was much closer to my roommate Paul Jerue, who was working on the movie too, but she'd been over my place a few times and we'd hung out here and there.

Her name was Amy Schumer, and I remember her audition very well. I didn't give her a part in this movie. I remember telling the producers I thought she was too funny for it. She was quite funny, in fact. I think she's also now the most famous person to come out of Towson University.

Somewhat ironically, there aren't a lot of photographs from this period of my life, because I didn't have a digital camera. Everything was on film, and just about all of those shots are lost to time.

But there are a few leftover from Ghosts that I'll share here - I've used my phone to snap some pics of pages from a single surviving scrapbook:

(Holy god, I actually had hair...)

Ghosts of Hamilton Street isn't a bad movie. It had taken me years of work, but I had finally made something that wasn't bad. They say your first ten movies are gonna suck, so get them out of the way early... maybe I was a little ahead of schedule after all.

Even though I had graduated just before we shot it, I still consider it a student film. It was shot in and around campus, utilizing equipment from the school, and the cast and crew were comprised of students and graduates (a lot of the cast were returning actors from Makebelieve and Still Life).

The star of the movie was a student who was ahead of me by a year named Scott Graham. I loved working with him, and I loved what he did with this movie.

(The great Scott Graham, three years before the Oculus short)

Three years later, he would fly himself out to LA from Washington DC in order to star in a short film I'd make in Los Angeles called Oculus.

(Filming Oculus - Chapter 3: the Man with the Plan in 2005)

Looking back, I think of Ghosts of Hamilton Street as my first movie. The other two were just class projects, really, and I was throwing spaghetti against the wall. But this one... it features an ambitious 90 second oner in the middle of the movie that competently tracks Scott through a bewildering office environment. It's a good shot.

It uses its genre moments as extensions of character, and is not concerned with scares or set pieces. It's metaphorical, whereas the other two movies were literal.

And it ends on a monologue.

As far as film festivals, it actually did okay. We screened at a few dozen places, and even traveled with the film. It won some more awards at some reputable festivals. And that winter, just after its premiere, when I packed the moving van to go to LA, I brought 100 DVD copies with me, hoping it would kickstart my career in Hollywood.

It wouldn't; that would happen ten years later, with Oculus. And when I filmed the Oculus feature, Scott Graham - star of Ghosts of Hamilton Street, and star of the Oculus short - played the janitor at the auction house where the mirror was kept.

And the two police officers who arrest Brenton Thwaites at the end of the film? Zak Jeffries, star of Makebelieve, Still Life, and Ghosts, and Dave Foster, my freshman year roommate, who worked crew on every film I made - even the little 8mm shorts - in Towson.

Nat Roers, who starred in Makebelieve and Still Life and was also my roommate for the last two years of college, appears as a jogger in Absentia, Dash Mihok's doomed wife in Before I Wake and as a reporter in Gerald's Game.

My professor at Towson who encouraged me to make all of these movies, and helped every way he could, was a man named Tom Brandau. He acted in Ghost of Hamilton Street, but he also was running the Fargo Film Festival in 2011, and he invited us to host the world premiere of Absentia at the festival. He also sat with me at the monitor for a week while we filmed The Haunting of Hill House, and for several days at the Overlook while we shot Doctor Sleep. He passed away a few years ago, and I miss him terribly.

As for Steve Yeager, the substitute teacher who dared us to make a movie my freshman year, and then put his money where his mouth was and produced my first digital feature a year later - Steve was also on set for Gerald's Game and for Doctor Sleep, and we went out for a beer to celebrate after a long shoot day. I quit drinking before that movie wrapped, so I believe it may have been one of the last beers I ever had, and I'm so glad I got to share it with Steve, who took this pie-eyed kid from his class and told him he could be a filmmaker.

My roommates when I moved out to LA were Ghosts star Zak Jeffries, Ghosts producer Jeff Seidman, crew members Amy Winter (soon to be Amy Seidman), Joe Wicker and Gaby Chavez.

In a way, all of these people were the foundation that started it all. I actively hate Netflix's lame "Flanaverse" idea, but if there was a Flanaverse, these were the people who built it. Scott Graham, Zak Jeffries, Dave Foster, Nat Roers, Jamie Sinsz, Megan Anderson, Steve Yeager, Jeff Seidman, Amy Seidman, Will Pinkine, Rich Koeckert, Jessi Bounelis, Chris Cridler, Sarah Yarbrough, Kara Webb, Kerry Brady, Joe Wicker, Gaby Chavez and Tom Brandau.

They were ride or die, man.

I think back on that time now and laugh. What a deal we made about digital video... I remember scraping together $2,000 to buy a 9 GB hard drive to edit - yes, I said NINE GIGABYTES.

I think about all of those dreamers out there today who have a 4k camera with 256 GB (or more) IN THEIR POCKET.

Yep, you've got a camera in your pocket that is infinitely more powerful than the cameras I filmed the first four features of my career on. Anyone who says they want to be a filmmaker and aren't sure how to start... I mean, take that thing out of your pocket and SHOOT SOMETHING. You are so, so, so ahead of the game.

So thank you for asking the question, and sorry for the long post. What I will always remember about that time was just how wildly, recklessly, adorably foolish we were... and how if we hadn't been, I might not have a career at all.

I made three independent feature films in my twenties, and another in my thirties, and while I don't think most of them are ultimately worthy of an audience, they were the best education I ever could have hoped for. I made them with dear friends, some of whom have remained in my life and heart to this day, and all of whom I owe an enormous debt.

My favorite thing? The title of the first one.

Makebelieve.

Because man, we were kids. Everything about that word is whimsy, innocence, and naivety. It's not a perfect movie; in fact, it isn't even a good one.

But that is a perfect, perfect title.

#memories #film school #towson university #make believe #still life #independent film

195 notes · View notes