#g:fluff

[jeonginify]

deny me (lovesong) — kim seungmin. ·˚ ༘♡

↝ pairing: kim seungmin x reader ↝ genre: humor, fluff, established relationship!au ↝ word count: 4k ↝ warnings: general menace behavior, you and seungmin are in love but pretend not to be, gross sickening fluff, jisung obviously doesn’t have the paboracha brain cell this week (don't mind that the banner isn't a gif my photoshop subscription expired.......)

↝ summary: the only thing you love more than your boyfriend seungmin’s smile is his obsession with fucking around with his friends. or, after one too many fights between his two best friends who can’t get along for the life of them, han jisung isn’t sure he can handle it anymore (who’s going to tell him that they don’t actually hate each other and are, in fact, dating?)

Thursdays have always been your favorite day of the week.

“Hi babe.”

To be fair, any day that you get to see Kim Seungmin is your favorite. But for the six months that the two of you have been dating, Thursdays have always been your day because it is when you get to see him the most, free of any distractions.

The two of you met through your mutual friends, and although you love them (well, you love them sometimes), they can be demanding. Early on in the friendship, back when you were all itty bitty freshmen with a thirst for the party life, Changbin claimed Fridays as your going out nights. Saturdays, then, were reserved for movie night at Hyunjin and Minho’s after a few too many Marvel marathons sophomore year. Sundays eventually ended up being taken by weekly brunch with Jeongin, and every other day of the week—well, those ended up occupied by one clingy, over-attached Han Jisung.

But Thursdays? Those Seungmin kept clear just for you.

“Ew,” you wrinkle your nose as your boyfriend leans down and plants a sloppy kiss on your forehead.

He raises a brow before flopping into the seat next to you and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Say that again,” Seungmin mutters as he peppers more kisses on your face.

Somehow, he manages to make the words sound both threatening and endearing at the same time. His lips trail their way down your cheek, along your jaw, to the corner of your lips, until you can’t take it anymore.

“Okay, okay,” you relent with a laugh. “I missed you too.”

“That’s what I thought,” he says triumphantly. You tilt your head up, ready for the final kiss, but he pretends not to notice the way you pucker your lips.

“Now get away from me.”

Seungmin dramatically pushes you off, but the smirk playing across his face tells you that he is just joking.

“Okay, loser,” you sniff, taking a sip from your coffee.

“How was class today?” He asks, shrugging his bag onto the ground.

“S’alright,” you sigh, pushing a cup towards him. You had ordered his iced Americano when you had arrived a few minutes earlier. This was your favorite café, and it had become a tradition to meet here after classes—it was a bit far from campus, sure, but you never minded, and neither did Seungmin.

He takes a big sip from his drink, grinning happily. 

“Are you finally done with that project Professor Cho assigned?”

“Yes, thank god,” you roll your eyes.

“Good,” he laces his fingers with your hand on top of the table.

“Now you can focus all your attention on me again,” he bats his eyelashes. 

“Awww, was my Minnie jealous of my biology class?” You coo.

“Never,” he wrinkles his nose. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Riiiiiiight,” you nod. “So what do you call that time you ignored Jeongin for two weeks because, and I quote, he was ‘breathing too close’ to me?”

“I just didn’t want any of his stupidity to rub off,” Seungmin says sincerely. “You need every brain cell you can get.”

You scoff and try to break free from where his hand holds yours, but his fingers just tighten their grasp.

“Okay, well what about that time you blew up on Changbin because he fell asleep in my lap?”

Your boyfriend’s eyes narrow at the memory.

“That was, like, a week before we made it official,” he insists. “It wasn’t jealousy, it was anxiety.”

“And who’s fault is it that it took us so long to get together?” You tease.

“Jisung’s,” Seungmin says immediately.

“Okay,” you admit. “That’s like, half true.”

Before you and Seungmin started dating, before the two of you were even friends, there was Han Jisung.

You met him on the first day of college orientation. He latched onto you immediately, claiming that you were the only one who seemed nice enough to be friends with someone as annoying as him. You thought he was just trying to be funny, but after three days non-stop with hi, you learned the hard way he was being dead seriously. Unfortunately (or fortunately?), he was annoying in the exact same way as you, so the two of you got along splendidly.

Seungmin on the other hand had no choice in his relationship with Jisung. Neighbors by chance, childhood friends by force, the two of them were attached at the hip all throughout middle school and high school. In what your boyfriend describes as a cruel twist of fate, Jisung even ended up following Seungmin to university a few towns over. He jokes about how he’ll never be free of him, but you know Seungmin does actually care a lot about Jisung, even if he refuses to admit it.

Once it became apparent that you were a permanent fixture in his life, Jisung made it his duty to connect the bridge between his two best friends. Unfortunately for him, however, you and Seungmin don’t have the smoothest of starts.

The day that Jisung tries to introduce you is probably the worst day possible. You are irritated and sleep deprived, and Seungmin is a week out from the deadline for his biggest presentation of the semester. In short, the two of you are teetering on the edge of sanity and are a little more than a bit exasperated with Jisung himself.

After staying up all night studying for an exam, the last thing you want is to get wasted and stay out past 2am, and yet that is the most likely fate you face when Jisung drags you out to a party against your will.

You really don’t want to be here, but—well, you figure that since you have nothing else to do, you might as well take a chance to de-stress. The party is still in its first leg and hasn’t grown into the rager that it undoubtedly will be, so it is relatively easy to venture into the kitchen and grab a drink.

The first time you lay eyes on Kim Seungmin is when you make your way back to Jisung. The two of them are standing in the backyard, locked in a tepid conversation as you approach.

“Seriously, Jisung,” Seungmin says, running a hand through his hair. “This is why you dragged me out of the library?”

The first thing you notice is how hot he is. Tall, strong jawline, angular face, chocolate eyes. 

The second thing you notice, almost immediately after, is how unhappy he looks to be here. Even more unhappy than you.

“C’mon,” Jisung whines, tugging on Seungmin’s arm. “It’s just for a little bit, and I promise Y/N is cool! Is it a crime that I want my best friends to be friends?”

“It is when I have a ten page paper due tomorrow,” Seungmin mutters.

You don’t blame him for being pissy, but something about the way he says it, with such clear disdain in his voice, rubs you the wrong way.

“Nice to meet you too,” you say sarcastically as you come to a stop next to them.

“Y/N, there you are!” Jisung exclaims happily, latching on to your arm too.

You take a sip of your drink, pushing down the wince that threatens to spread across your face at the taste of pure battery acid jungle juice. And the entire time, you maintain eye contact with Seungmin, never breaking even as you swallow.

To his credit, Seungmin stares back with no hesitation. If you hadn’t been annoyed with him, you probably would have found his confidence insanely attractive. Instead, it annoys you even more. 

And while the two of you are locked in an intense staredown, Jisung stands in between you, one arm still linked with yours and the other with Seungmin’s.

“Y/N,” Jisung begins excitedly. “This is Seungmin. Seungmin, this is Y/N.”

“Right,” Seungmin says dryly. “No offense. I’m sure you’re great...”

The rest of the sentence is implied: “...but I have better things to do right now.”

“You too,” you can’t resist jabbing back.

“So nice to meet you,” Seungmin says briskly. It’s not rude, but it’s not not.

“Not sure if I can say the same,” you respond, a smile stretching across your face despite the acid in your tone.

“G-Guys...” Jisung interrupts nervously, but neither of you notice. 

“Right...” Seungmin says again, nodding slowly.

Despite your abrasive remark, he doesn’t show much reaction. His apathy is like an itch under your skin; in the end, that is what annoys you the most. 

(Now, you love how cool and collected Seungmin can be. But back then, when you first met him, you hated it.)

“Well,” Seungmin turns to Jisung, who has gone as pale as a sheet by now. 

“We met. I’m going to go now.”

“W-What—?” Jisung stutters. Before he can intervene, Seungmin nods once at you and turns, taking three long strides away from you.

By the time Jisung finally finds his words again, Seungmin has already disappeared.

The next time you meet Seungmin is at one of the first movie nights at Hyunjin and Minho’s. It has been a few weeks since Jisung’s failed attempt to introduce you, and you are already cozy on the couch next to Felix when Seungmin walks in.

Jisung is in the middle of telling a very animated story to Minho when he spots Seungmin and immediately freezes. The color leeches from his face so fast that you think he might pass out, but it is only when he looks quickly between you and Seungmin that you realize exactly why he looks so nervous.

“Min,” Felix says happily. “You made it!”

Seungmin nods, his eyes briefly passing over you before he spots the empty spot next to Chan and makes a beeline for it. 

After a little time and a lot of sleep (and maybe just a tad bit of reflection) you have come to the realization that maybe your reaction to Seungmin at the party wasn’t warranted. After all, he was entitled to be annoyed at Jisung and the situation in general, and it wasn’t you specifically that he was irritated about, so you have no reason to take it personally or hold a grudge.

Which is why you’re not annoyed at Seungmin’s presence. tonight. Instead, you can’t help but feel a little bit... awkward. Chagrined, maybe?

You might feel calm but Jisung is two seconds away from pissing his pants. In fact, he’s so desperate to clear up any misunderstandings that halfway through the movie he texts you for an emergency rendezvous in the kitchen.

“IpromiseIdidn’tknowhewasgoingtocometonight!” Jisung blurts out in one breath once you two are away from the rest of the guys.

“Okay...?” You raise a brow.

“So, like,” he blabbers, “don’t hate me! I love you both and I’m sorry for forcing you guys to meet—”

“—Jisung,” you interrupt. “It’s okay.”

“Really?” He asks uncertainly.

“Really,” you affirm.

“Okay,” he nods, and you feel the overwhelming urge to give him a paper bag to breathe into. Not because that is the proper treatment for hyperventilation—precisely because it isn’t, and maybe if he passes out then he’ll stop worrying.

When you walk back into the living room, Seungmin doesn’t even look up at you, but you have the strangest feeling that he knows exactly what you and Jisung were talking about.

Later that night, you loiter around the apartment a little bit longer than you usually would, just to avoid leaving at the same time as Seungmin. Your plan backfires, though, when Jisung has to leave early. You try to hang around a little bit longer, but then Minho and Hyunjin start to wonder why you are still there, and you have no choice but to leave. 

Which is how you end up trailing awkwardly after Seungmin on your walk back to your apartment. It takes him precisely two minutes to notice that you are behind him, and then three more before he comes to a halt.

“I’m not following you!” You insist immediately. “My place is just in this direction too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay...” you parrot back awkwardly.

“So,” Seungmin begins a moment later. “I just... I wanted to apologize.”

“What?”

“For that night at the party,” he clarifies. “I was kind of... no, I was very stressed. And rude. It wasn’t cool for me to treat you like that.”

You are so stunned you don’t know what to say.

“Jisung speaks very highly of you,” Seungmin continues. “And I swear, if it had been any other day, I wouldn’t have been such a dick. Not that it’s any excuse...”

“Well,” you begin, a warm blush spreading over your cheeks. “I don’t think that’s really your fault. I was kind of a bitch, too.”

His serious facade cracks and a small hint of a smile peeks through.

“Either way,” Seungmin says. “I did actually want to make a good impression, believe it or not, so... Do you think we could start over?”

You don’t even have to think before you respond, “I’ll gladly erase that version of Y/N you met for this one. I promise, I’m not always that rude.”

His face breaks into a bigger smile, and it almost takes your breath away.

“Well,” he says. “That makes two of us.”

That is the beginning of your friendship with Seungmin. After that first movie night, you start to see him more frequently on campus. Then, the new semester starts, and you find that the two of you share an intro to film class.

Almost naturally, the two of you start to hang out more and more, and you begrudgingly realize that maybe Jisung was on to something when he insisted that the two of you meet.

It is only when you’re too deep in and the feelings (romantic, of course) for Seungmin have really started to take root do the two of you realize—even though you rehabilitated your relationship, Jisung still thinks you hate each other. 

This realization hits on a Friday at a party that Changbin drags the entire group to. This time, thankfully, both you and Seungmin do want to be there, and the night is going well.

(At least, as well as it can when you are grappling with the complicated newfound feelings you have for a recent friend-slash-study buddy.)

Then, in the midst of a tequila the midst of a tequila-induced haze, Jeongin finds you and Seungmin on the dancefloor.

“Hey!” he shouts. “You guys are friends, right?”

Seungmin looks at you, then shrugs.

“Yeah!” You shout back. 

“Then why,” Jeongin asks, “is Jisung about to have a mental breakdown about you two?”

“What do you mean?”

He keeps whining to Changbin about how horrible it is that you two hate each other!”

“We don’t—” You begin.

The realization hits you and Seungmin at the same time, and it’s like you can see the lightbulb go off in his head. 

“Oh...” you mutter.

“Oh,” he agrees.

“You guys are weird!” Jeongin shouts, eyes flitting between the two of you as you stare at each other.

“Heyyyyyy!” Jisung shouts even louder, his voice anxious as he comes to a stop between you and Seungmin.

“How are you both doing?”

His nervousness is almost laughable, but when you look at Seungmin, there is a devious twinkle in his eyes.

By now, you know him pretty well. And that look? It tells you only one thing: that he’s about to do something to fuck around with Jisung.

“I’m fine,” Seungmin says primly. His tone is such a stark contrast to how he was speaking only moments ago—it is guarded and prickly, and you catch on immediately.

“Who knows,” you mutter a moment later, going along with Seungmin.

“So you guys—” Jisung begins wearily.

“He keeps following me,” you point out.

“She keeps following me,” Seungmin rebutts.

“R-Really?” Jisung asks nervously. 

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “I’m going to find Felix.”

Seungmin averts his gaze quickly, but not before you see the way he is biting back his laugh. And when you turn on your heel and head outside, a smile is plastered to your face as Jisung begins to badger him with questions.

The smile remains glued in place as the sound of Seungmin fibbing fades into the background.

That is the first time you pretend to still dislike each other in front of Jisung. The next time it happens is right before Hyunjin’s birthday when Felix ropes everyone into baking brownies for him. After that, it is when you and the guys go paintballing and you and Seungmin end up on opposite teams.

The fun of it is always how flustered Jisung gets. None of your other friends actually believe that you and Seungmin dislike each other—they know better than that. But Jisung, with his whole chest, thinks you and Seungmin hate each other. (Never mind the fact that you can’t look at him without hearts in your eyes...)

Once the charade started, you and Seungmin never clarified how long you were going to play along with it. Eventually, months have passed, and then when he finally works up the guts to ask you out officially, the face remains firmly in place.

Which is how you wind up here, six months later and happily dating, with your mutual best friend under the assumption that you guys actually hate each other.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Seungmin asks as he takes a sip from his iced Americano.

“How irritating you were when we first met,” you say wistfully, tapping your fingers affectionately on the back of his hand.

“Hmmm? I recall you being just as irritating,” Seungmin tells you. 

“Me?” You gasp. “I’m an angel. I could never.”

“More like a devil in disguise,” he rolls his eyes.

“If I’m a devil, what does that say about you?”

“What can I say? I love charity work,” he declares dramatically. “You’re my community service project.

“I’m telling your mom,” you attempt to pull your hand out of his, and this time you succeed.

A pout stretches across his face, and it only takes a few seconds for you to break and lace your fingers with his once again.

“You’re scared of my mom,” Seungmin challenges, a lazy smirk stretching across his face.

Butterflies swim through your stomach, but you shove them down at the obvious jab.

“I’m not scared of her!” You insist. “I’m scared of meeting her. There’s a difference.”

“Sure, babe,” he nods solemnly.

“I’m serious!”

“I’m sure you are,” he placates.

“Stop looking at me like that,” now it is your turn to pout.

“Like what?” He asks innocently. 

“Like you think I’m cute.”

“But I do think you’re cute,” Seungmin points out.

“Well,” you say, flustered. “Stop!”

“It’s your fault for looking like that,” he says. “I’m not making you do that. In fact, don’t you think it’s more unfair for me?”

“How?” You narrow your eyes.

“I should be the cute one in the relationship,” he says like its obvious. “It’s not fair that you’re more adorable than me.”

“Awww, Seung,” you light up.

“I think you’re very adorable, and—” you coo, but stop short when something outside the coffee shop window catches you by surprise.

“—And I hate you,” you finish shortly, shoving Seungmin’s hand out of yours and crossing your arm with a huff.

“What?” He mutters, confused. “Wait, what just happened? Did I do something wrong?”

You roll your eyes, scooting your chair away from him. A distinctive chime rings, indicating that the door has been opened and then closed.

“Babe—” He begins, but then he stops too.

“Bab-y,” Seungmin says derisively, arranging his face into a mask of cool disdain.

“I’m calling you a baby.”

“Nice save,” you mouth, and Seungmin sticks his tongue out at you.

“Y/N,” Jisung’s voice comes behind you. “Seungmin! What are you guys doing here... Together?”

He sounds equal parts shocked and horrified, and for a moment you feel bad for him.

Then you remember that time last month when he woke you up at the ass crack of dawn and dragged you on a hike up a mountain, only to abandon you halfway up because he got a call from the girl he’s been hooking up with to come over, and you suddenly don’t feel bad anymore.

“Our professor assigned a group project,” Seungmin fibs seamlessly. “Y/N and I got paired up.”

“No need to sound so annoyed,” you say sweetly, kicking him under the table. 

(It’s less of a kick and more of you playing footsies with him, but it has the desired effect when Jisung’s eyes flit nervously around and Seungmin’s finger twitches ever so slightly towards your hand.)

“Who said I’m annoyed about it?” Seungmin asks, a serene smile stretching across his face.

“You did,” you tell him. “Many times, actually.”

“I’m more than annoyed. Exasperated, maybe, or incensed.

“Anyways,” you roll your eyes, barely able to keep your laughter at bay.

The funniest part about this conversation is that Seungmin isn’t completely lying.

Although the two of you aren’t currently working on anything, you were paired up a few weeks ago. Throughout the project, he couldn’t stop complaining about how annoying it was to be paired up with you—he claimed you were a pretty distraction, and that he couldn’t be expected to get any work done around you when he could kiss you instead.

“What are you doing here, Jisung?”

“I was just passing by!” He says shrilly, a little bit too fast.

Your raise an eyebrow. Recently, any time Jisung finds you and Seungmin in a (fake) argument, he can’t seem to escape fast enough. Individually, he has no problem being around you two. But it’s like he’s afraid to be standing in the blast zone when it comes to you and Seungmin together—which, in your opinion, is hilarious. 

The farce, then, is both amusing and beneficial, which is probably why you and Seungmin have dragged it out for so long. Because god knows, if Jisung knew that you and Seungmin actually liked each other, he would never give you any alone time.

His two best friends being friends is his dream. His two best friends dating? Frankly, you’re scared to see how he would act...

“Passing by?” Seungmin asks. “This far away from campus?”

“Yup!” Jisung exclaims cheerily. “And would you look at that? It’s already 4pm. I’ve got to go! I’ll see you later, bye!”

He is already inching towards the door before he begins speaking. By the time he has squeezed all the words out, his hands are on the door. 

You barely have the chance to say a quick “bye!” before he swings the door open and rushes out.

You and Seungmin watch through the window as Jisung speed walks away from the coffee shop, his fingers gripping his bag tightly.

And then, when he is out of sight, you both burst into laughter.

“Sorry babe,” you pout, reaching for Seungmin’s hand once the coast is clear. “I don’t actually hate you.”

“Well, unfortunately,” he clicks his tongue. “I was actually calling you a baby.”

Your pout deepens.

“But you’re my baby,” Seungmin amends, giving you a little kiss on the cheek. You sigh happily, scooting close so you can link your arm through his.

“D’you think we should tell him sometime soon?” You ask. 

A moment of silence passes.

“Nah,” Seungmin says finally. 

“Really?” 

“He was a menace to me throughout high school,” he says. “This is my revenge.

“Okay...” You say uncertainly.

“And, if you think about it,” Seungmin goes on. “It’s his fault that he still hasn’t noticed after all this time. All the other guys know. Even Hyunjin knows.”

“You know, that is a good point.”

“Thanks babe,” he kisses your cheek again, a smirk on his face. “I know it is.”

“Oh, hush,” you mutter, not entirely happy with how smug he looks.

But then, he leans in and finally kisses you on the lips, and you forget why you were annoyed with him in the first place. 

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #seungmin x reader #seungmin scenarios #stray kids scenarios #kim seungmin scenarios #skz scenarios #seungmin fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #seungmin fanfic #kim seungmin fanfic #stray kids imagine #skz imagines #kim seungmin fluff #w:deny me (lovesong) #m:seungmin #g:fluff #g:humor #g:established relationship au #jeonginify.txt

[enhypenwriters]

🛑 Warning Suggestive Content 🛑

Read at own choice

Member: Sunghoon

#haechanhues writes #m:sunghoon #g:angst #g:18+ #g:fluff #t:socialmedia

[officiallyisagibrainrotted]

.Sleepyhead.

Requested√(Julien overworks himself and nurses reader take care of him)

Warnings:Short, female reader.

G:Fluff.

He knew he was pushing himself to his limit, but he honestly never saw the problem with it. He would constantly overload himself with soccer to the point where he got used to it.

Till you came into the picture you would always constantly nag him about pushing himself to much. He tells you to stop being a worrywart and that he's fine . But you being a nurse couldn't help but constantly worry about him.

Even his teammates were getting concerned.

Finally the day came were his body has had enough, the day before he stayed practicing super late and today he got up early in the morning and hasn't stopped since .

He was aiming for the goal but his vision gets hazy , so his feet doesn't even make contact with the ball. His body suddenly became heavy and everything around him was a blur. He hadn't even realized his body had hit the ground, for he was exhausted to realize anything.

He slowly wakes up when he hears soft humming and small touches every now and then on his cheek. He felt his head press into the softness it was placed on .

It's a touch that he was used to , God he loves when you touch him like this,you were humming his favorite melody too.

But he soon realizes his location. "Shit,(Y/n) what happened?". He questions the girl as he rubs the side of his head that was hit against the ground earlier.

The girl continues her rubbing and soft hums."You fainted". She says softly as she looks at him lovingly.

"Oh". Was all he said.

"Mmhm".

"Julien?".

"Hm?".

"What have I told you about overworking yourself?".

He chuckled softly. "To not do it".

"Yea, but you did it anyway, men sure dont listen, huh".

She says this in between her hums and her soft touches.

"I'm sorry".

"It's fine, just please don't do it again, I don't want you to hurt yourself ok? ".

"Mhm".

With every small touch that made contact with skin he could feel himself drifting off to sleep.

He immediately grabs the girls hand. "Stop, you're putting me to sleep".

She says as she pulls her hand away from his grasp but instead of continuing her loving touches, she instead moves a strain of her brained hair behind her ear. She leans down to the boy and gives him a soft kiss on his lips , one he returned.

She pulls away softly, but the gap between them was still small.

She keeps her ever movement soft and delicate. Trying not to wake the male who's already drifting off into slumber.

"Well that's the point you big dummy". She teased lightly as she runs her thumb softly against his lips. She keeps her voice at a whisper.

His eyes become heavy causing the girl to blur out, her words start to fade .

"Now please go to bed Julien,I love taking care of you but I don't like it when you hurt yourself so rest up a little,yeah?".

"Mhm". He mumbles subconsciously.

The girl giggles at his response. "Sweet dreams my love , I love you Julien".

Yuppp that's it I hope you like this anon, I'm just as glad as you r to see a fellow Haitian!.

Request are open.

Constructive Criticism is always welcome.

Read the rules before requesting

Reblogs are highly appreciated 👍

And yeah that all my loves. Good night 🌃.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x female reader #blue lock kunigami #blue lock isagi #blue lock rin #blue lock shidou #blue lock sae #blue lock baro #bllk #blue lock nagi #blue lock Loki x reader #blue lock julien #blue lock fanfic #blue lock Julien x female reader #julien loki #blue lock Julien x reader fluff #blue lock Julien x reader #bllk nagi #bllk julien #bllk fluff #bllk fanfic #bllk loki #bllk julien loki #bllk Julien loki x reader

[cassrecs]

꒰ cass ✦ 19 ✦ she/they ꒱

➤ @changsbin​​‘s and @hanlimz’s fic rec blog !

➤ skz/enhypen soft stan (may rb some nsfw works)

➤ follows/replies from @/cass-main

🏷️ tags: genre (—g:fluff), pairing (ex. —p:hyunjin), word count (ex. —wc:1k<), author (ex. —a:seungcult), + whtv unhinged comments i provide

#— c.posts: navi

[chilligyu]

info: lee jihoon/gender neutral reader, pg, best friends to lovers au genre: fluff, romance | word ct: 5.5k warnings: none summary: when it came to love, no one was prepared. not even jihoon, who could spend hours turning words into magic, especially when love was mysteriously delivered in the form of a letter to his locker. note: heavily inspired by to all the boys I've loved before, but with a twist! no love triangles or anything like that, so just enjoy awkward people falling in love! and thank you to @dreamystuffers and @starlightjoong for taking a sneak peek and telling me what you think!

tagging: @xfirebenderx, @moriiyun, @ohmygoshcheese, @gyu-log

Lee Jihoon, a genius in many ways, was never good when it came to words. At least, not the spoken kind. The kind that you had to think up on the spot, responses, answers, comebacks, small talk, he was absolutely terrible at it. But if you gave him the time to think, to really dwell on his thoughts, he could create something truly beautiful. Which was why he preferred to express his feelings with letters. And while, yes, he could pen something magnificent, the next great classic novel perhaps, he typically kept his messages short and to the point. Much like the man himself.

There was one time that he wrote a “letter” that was simply—

F U C K Y O U

—printed out on seven separate sheets of paper and taped to a row of lockers. All in response to a teacher confiscating his iPod. No one could prove it was him, though, and nothing happened in response to it. He never admitted to his crimes, and despite it being painfully obvious who the author of the message was, there was no hard proof pointing to the culprit. It became the most well-known secret at their high school. And Lee Jihoon became somewhat of a living legend because of it.

The only one who knew the truth was you. His best friend. You were his go-to when it came to proof reading all of his letters. He was the writer, you were the editor. Half the time you were also a berating parent, chastising him for trying to assault people with words. Which was also why, more often than not, his letters never got sent. He would sit in his room for hours, writing letters that were either half the length of novels or only a few sentences long, and after giving it over to be edited, it would get tucked away in his desk drawer. Never to be seen or heard from again.

See, Jihoon was an emotional person. Not in the sense that most people would assume, he didn’t get offended easily, one mean comment wouldn’t leave him crying, he was simply—emotional. Whatever he was feeling, whether it be good or bad, it was powerful, sometimes overwhelming. So instead of erupting like a hormonal volcano, which he had already done plenty of, he put his emotions to paper. At the behest of his aforementioned best friend.

“You can’t go around yelling at people.” You began one afternoon just after entering high school. “Even if you’re writing it down, you’re still yelling at people.”

Jihoon, the definition of “hard to read”, was visibly pouting. “You’re the one who told me to write down how I feel. Now I can’t even send these to anyone?”

“I mean, you can.” You backpedalled. “I’m not your mother, despite Seokmin’s insistence. I can’t stop you from doing anything you’ve set your heart to. All I can do is advise you not to because you’re going to have a terrible few years here if everyone hates you.”

He clearly wasn’t thrilled by your logical response, but he admitted defeat anyway. “Fine. Don’t send the letters that I write. I get it. No one wants to read them.”

You groaned loudly. “You are so dramatic. I’m saying don’t send the literal hate mail to people. Don’t send the stuff you write to vent out your feelings. But if there’s something you want to say to someone, something that you can’t bring yourself to say out loud, by all means! Send the thing! I know you loathe the idea of talking to people, you also hate being misunderstood more.”

He also hated how well you knew him, not that he would ever say that out loud.

That was also something he wrote down in a letter, one he decided to send.

You crumpled it up immediately and threw it back at his face.

“Letters are powerful things, Jihoon.” You added. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives with nothing more than words. Because words mean so many different things to so many different people. You just gotta say the right ones.”

At first, he was only humoring you. Honestly, he thought you completely senile until he gave it a shot. After spending hours hunched over his desk writing things no one else would see, he was starting to realize that maybe you had a point. Instead of roaming the halls shouting obscenities in his head, he was able to reassure himself by knowing he could write about it later. Even the smallest grievance, he would write it down. He would sometimes scribble it down on the margin of a textbook if he was feeling particularly overwhelmed in the middle of the day.

The letters became his therapy, his outlet, eventually he could stroll past some annoying upperclassmen and not feel rage coursing through his veins. It was—nice, almost. Not being subjected to his own hectic imagination at every turn. Feeling at peace for the first time in what felt like ages.

Until he found a letter in his locker, one addressed to him during his senior year. From a secret admirer. The contents of which would be seared into his memory for the remainder of time.

Lee Jihoon, it began.

I have never been able to tell you how I feel, in person or in a letter. For several months now, I’ve tried. I’ve tried to write letters like you for so long, and I just can’t get the words right. I don’t know how you do it. So I’m going to do something different. I’m going to stop being scared. If you meet me in the courtyard after school, I’m going to be brave for the first time in my life. Please help me be brave, Jihoon.

Again and again, he read that short letter. Practically baffled that someone out there wrote an honest-to-god letter that was addressed to an honest-to-god person. And that he wasn’t the writer, that he was the recipient. The thought alone made his heart race, and to comprehend that this secret admirer perhaps harbored feelings towards him? It was next to impossible. But no one writes a letter without true emotion behind it. That’s a fact he was coming to understand.

“I need you to come with me.” He told you after showing you the letter. “I’m—I’m not sure I can do this alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jihoon, obviously this person doesn’t want to make a public event out of their confession. You should really do this without me.”

“I know, and I’m not asking you to stand at my side or anything.” He reiterated. “Can you like—stand in a bush or something? If I know that you’re there I won’t feel the need to—"

“Did you just ask me to stand in a bush?” You guffawed. “You did not just ask me to stand in a bush Lee Jihoon because if you did then you’re about to get your ass kicked into next year!”

“I didn’t mean literally!” He quickly denied when he did, in fact, mean it literally. “Just—stand around the corner, okay? Be my moral support!”

Pursing your lips, you knew that there was no getting out of this. “Alright, fine. I’ll come with you. But I’m not happy about it.”

“I’ll pay you back, I promise.” He swore. “Have I ever told you that you’re the best?”

A smirk teased at your lips. “You could mention it more.”

“Consider it done.” Jihoon grinned, gathering up his things and heading for the door. “Don’t forget! After school! Courtyard! Don’t be late!”

Once he was gone and you were completely alone, your face fell in disappointment. “I wouldn’t dream of it…”

By the time that school was finally over for the day, Jihoon was a bundle of overactive nerves. He was excited and terrified and anxious and nauseous all at once. The bombarding sensations kept him cemented in place, gripping the edge of his desk until his knuckles were about to burst through. He had been like that for the entirety of their last class, still as a statue as a cold sweat broke out across his brow. You were standing in front of him, head tilted and wondering what he was planning to do next.

“Class is over.” You reminded him. “Everyone’s left.”

Very slowly, he nodded. “Y-yeah. I can see that.”

His voice sounded as if it had been completely stripped down. Like he had screamed himself hoarse by saying those few words.

“Your secret admirer is probably waiting.” You tried to spur him. “We should get going before I change my mind and head home.”

He audibly swallowed past a lump in his throat. “Well—maybe that’s best. Yeah, I can wait until tomorrow.”

You eyed him incredulously. “You’re going to stay here until tomorrow. You’re insane, get up.”

“I’d rather not.”

“And I’d rather not grow old and die here.” You countered. “C’mon, Jihoon. Your admirer asked you to help them be brave, how exactly is this helping them?”

He had to admit, you had a point. If they were brave enough to put their feelings out there, he had to at least meet them half way.

Sighing loudly, he started to pry his fingers off his desk. “Alright, fine. We’ll do things your way.”

You rolled your eyes for perhaps the hundredth time. “You’re absolutely insufferable. Why do I hang out with you?”

“Because I’m funny.” He said with the most serious face in the world.

Which actually made you laugh.

“I hate you.” You chuckled. “C’mon, let’s get going while we’re still young.”

Jihoon inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm himself down.

This is just the beginning.

Except—it wasn’t.

He stood in the courtyard, seemingly alone, with the note that brought him there clutched tight in his hand. As his moral support you were keeping your distance, as promised, but no one else joined you. Minutes passed and he did his best to remain hopeful. It was hard, especially when a familiar voice nagged at the back of his mind. The same one he struggled with every day to ignore.

No one would ever like you, so why did you bother thinking otherwise?

While the negative thoughts slowly took over, Jihoon didn’t know what to do next. He was defeated, almost destroyed. And even though you walked up behind him and took his hand in yours, it did little to stop the bitter tears from welling in his eyes.

“I should’ve known…” He whispered angrily. “This was all just—a joke. It’s always a joke. Who could ever like me?”

“Stop it, Jihoon.” You hissed at him, squeezing his hand tighter. “They said they were scared, maybe they couldn’t follow through with it. Maybe they were afraid of being rejected. You never know what’s going through someone’s head. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

Nothing you said was going to make him feel better. He quickly wrenched himself from your grip and backed away from you.

“I’m going home.” He clipped. “Bye.”

Before he left, he made sure to crumple up the note and toss it at your feet. When his heart was broken, he wore it on his sleeve. You understood what Jihoon was feeling, he had been living with an extremely low self esteem due to his height and his general inability to make friends for as long as you knew him. He was quiet, shy, reserved, he was slow to open up to others and hesitant to trust. That’s why you tried to be excited for him, and now that things hadn’t gone as planned in more ways than one your heart ached just like his.

The next day, Jihoon strolled into class like a drunk zombie. By the looks of him, he hadn’t slept a wink. Too busy being destroyed by his own thoughts to bother with anything like sustenance or sleep. He took up his seat beside you, and you immediately shoved your desk into his.

“Still upset?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer.

Sluggishly he lifted his head up and then quickly dropped it back down.

It was worse than you thought.

“Are you going to talk to me today?” You teased in an attempt to get a reaction. “Or am I going to have to go bother Hansol?”

Grumbling slightly, the barely responsive mass that was your best friend raised his hand and dropped a crumpled wad of paper on your desk. At first, you assumed it was just another one of his letters. They weren’t uncommon when he was feeling—unwell.

But it was another note from his secret admirer.

You were startled because he didn’t usually stop at his locker in the morning.

Lee Jihoon, it started similarly.

I’m sorry for not showing up yesterday, I was scared. I couldn’t bring myself to face you, please don’t be mad at me. I’d like to keep writing you letters, if that’s okay. Let’s get to know each other and maybe one day I can be brave again.

Once you were finished reading, you immediately began analyzing Jihoon’s face again. You had never seen him look like this before, completely vacant. While he was hard to read to the entire world, he was always an open book to you. Now reading him was nearly impossible even with your expertise.

“What are you gonna do?”

He shrugged lazily. “I don’t know. Sit here for the rest of eternity. Wait for the soft embrace of death.”

“Jihoon.” You exasperated. “We both know you’re not actually going to do that.”

Except he actually might and you actually couldn’t take that chance.

“Are you going to write them a letter?” You tried, again. “Maybe that will work out better.”

“I already did.” He murmured. “I don’t think they want to read it though.”

“Jesus Christ…” You groaned loudly, taking Jihoon’s face in your hands and looking him dead in his lifeless eyes. “They still like you, they’re scared and human like the rest of us, it is not the end of the world! Give them another chance and stop being such a goddamn drama queen!”

Silence. Pure unadulterated and perfectly aggravating silence.

“Alright, you leave me no choice. I’m bringing out the big guns.”

Being careful to keep an eye on the teacher, you pulled out your phone and started texting Jihoon’s mother. According to your message, you and Jihoon were going to be studying late at the library, and he would probably need to spend the night at your house. Which wasn’t a complete lie, maybe you would get some studying done. But, in all honesty, you had other things in mind.

“Take your pick.” You instructed, a box set in each hand. “Descendants of the Sun, or Record of Youth.”

Immediately after school, you dragged your best friend to your house and sat him down in front of the TV. Your parents didn’t even question it when you told them this intervention was a matter of life and death, that the patient might need to be admitted for the night. They simply let you do what needed to be done.

Jihoon, who had been relatively catatonic for the past 24 hours, finally showed a glimmer of something. He gave the slightest suggestion of a nod towards Descendants of the Sun and you happily popped in the first disk. As you claimed a spot beside him, popcorn and banana milk in tow, he naturally relaxed against you. You were the only person who got to see him unguarded like that, the only person he himself would allow. And while he was typically someone who kept his true self hidden from the world, there was a part of him that would forever belong only to you.

“Thanks.” He practically whispered, resting his head on your shoulder. “I—I needed this.”

“I know.” You smiled. “Are you ready to talk yet?”

He sighed heavily. “No. Not really. I still have a lot of thinking to do.”

“Well, if you need help thinking you know where I’ll be.” You offered without wanting to seem pushy.

If you weren’t mistaken, you could’ve sworn he actually chuckled.

“Yeah. I do.”

Little by little, your best friend was slowly returning to normal—or as close to normal as you’ve ever seen him. Eventually he started getting sucked into the drama, going rigid when things got tense, and actively pretended he wasn’t crying whenever You Are My Everything played. It was, overall, a job well done. You could sleep easy knowing that Jihoon would be just fine. As you drifted off, you felt him hold your hand and squeeze it gently.

Everything was going to be okay.

And if only to prove that point, the next day was nothing like the one before. Jihoon was back to his old self as if nothing had happened at all. Just another Thursday without a word or whisper about the chaotic tornado his secret admirer had unleashed onto your day-to-day life. He even had a letter for you to read by the time lunch rolled around. Apparently, some freshman irritated him over something seemingly small. At least—to you it seemed barely worth mentioning. But nothing ever really felt small to Jihoon. It was all or nothing, always living in black and white. Which meant that almost everything was important to him in some way. So you read the letter, and you edited it gladly.

Once you were done, he had something else for you. Another note from the admirer.

“This is the third one, right?” You murmured, glancing it over once before looking up at him. “Have you written back yet? Besides the one where I assumed you insulted their very existence with your entire arsenal of hurtful words.”

The blush crawling up his neck was an answer in and of itself, but the thick stack of paper he pulled out of his backpack solidified it.

“I’ve tried a few times.” He admitted hesitantly. “Nothing I write is good enough.”

“Oh, only a few times?” You teased, knowing full well that Jihoon’s definition of a few was the same as calling Jane Eyre a short shopping list. “What’s got you so stuck? Usually you have no issues penning essays over trivial things like cracks in the sidewalk.”

His brow furrowed defiantly. “Hey, proper sidewalk and road maintenance is important to modern infrastructure. If we start overlooking cracks in the pavement, then what? What about traffic lights? Can we afford to allow a single bulb to go out? No, of course not. That’s anarchy.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Jihoon…” You started with an exasperated look. “I was joking.”

Trying to hide the fact that his blush was turning a deep crimson, and failing quite miserably, he pulled a paper from the stack and put it back in his bag. Also something he tried, and failed, to hide from you.

“Are you kidding me!” You laughed, raking a hand down your face. “Did you seriously have a letter in that pile you were going to send to our congressman?”

“No—yes—ugh!” He groaned. “Can we forget about the stupid sidewalk for a second! That’s not important right now! Help me! How do I do this?”

Deciding you had teased your best friend enough, you placed your chin in your hand and smiled at him. “How do you do what, exactly? I’ve never had anything to do with the letters you write, I just read them so someone knows how you’re feeling.”

Who were you kidding, you could never tease Jihoon enough.

He rolled his eyes so hard that he rolled his whole head with them. “Like you’ve ever needed further insight into my head, you always know what I’m thinking before I do.”

True.

“But I don’t understand the first thing about—this.” He finished with a labored sigh, gesturing sharply to the handwritten novel in front of him. “You know that better than anyone.”

Again, he was telling the truth. In the years you had known Jihoon he had never developed serious feelings towards someone else. He had barely entertained the notion since entering high school. He always talked himself out of it because feelings were complicated and bothersome. Plus, he was terrified of being rejected. Like most people are. His intrusive thoughts just so happened to be louder than most.

“I hate to break it to you, Jihoon,” You started in a whisper, “no one knows the first thing about this. Not even me. The only person who can help you is yourself.”

His sour expression made it obvious that he obviously didn’t like your response. “Great. Super helpful. Thank you for your continued wisdom.”

When he moved away from you, you grabbed him by the sweater and pulled him back in. “Why do you always stop listening to me when I’m about to make my point?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Because it takes you forever to fucking get there.”

“Alright, you got me there.” You chuckled. “Listen, I’m not kidding when I say that you’ve got to do this one on your own. As much as I can usually sense what feelings are doing somersaults in your stomach, this is a first for you and therefore a first for me. I’ve never seen you like this before, so unfortunately you’ve got to discover this one on your own.”

As you spoke, his features slowly softened until all that remained was a very nervous teenager who didn’t want to screw up his first real chance at love. That’s all Jihoon was at his core, that’s all anyone was.

But you had to admit he almost looked kind of cute.

Almost.

“How do you always know what to say?” He grumbled while crossing his arms. “It’s annoying.”

“You’ve got a really weird way of saying thank you.” You smirked playfully. “Well, maybe this last nugget of advice will get you started in the right direction.”

“Why are you always—” He seethed through his teeth. “How are you still not at whatever your point is!”

You shrugged, because you honestly had no clue. “I'll get there when I get there. You want to hear it or not—”

“Spit. It. Out.”

“Now is that anyway to—”

Wow. You stopped, suddenly fearing for your measly life. If looks could kill—

“Alright, alright, you win.” You conceded. “If you’re having issues writing a letter to your secret admirer, here’s my advice. Stop trying to put words to your feelings and start putting feelings into words. You’re spending too much time trying to say it perfectly that you’re not saying it at all. It doesn’t need to make sense to anyone else, it doesn’t even need to make sense to you. So long as you put them out into the world, they’ll be heard and one day they’ll be understood. You get me?”

The look on his face was—strange. You had a hard time placing it, which should’ve been weirder than it was. In fact, you were seeing lots of different sides to Jihoon lately, sides you never thought existed. This time his eyes widened, the aforementioned scarlet blush had disappeared, and there was a radiance to him that you had never seen before. Like suddenly he could see clearly through the storm of his thoughts.

“Thank you.” He exhaled with a smile. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

Feeling triumphant, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I’m starting to wonder what you’d do without me, Jihoon. Three days and you’ve been completely undone and redone by this letter.”

“Letters are powerful things.” He muttered. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives. You taught me that.”

“I guess I’m a pretty good teacher.” You boasted, giving him a squeeze. “Despite the fact that I’m actually quite terrible with words.”

He shrugged off your arm. “Except you always know what to say, how exactly does that work?”

“Just because I can make you see reason doesn’t mean I’m good with words.” You laughed easily. “That simply means that I’ve perfected the art of understanding the impossible. Lee Jihoon. I can’t use words like you do. Trust me I’ve tried, I can never get the words right.”

For a moment, he didn’t have any sort of response. Which was definitely weird. It was a well-known fact that he was terrible with the sorts of words he had to speak, but he didn’t have issues when talking to you. That’s because you were friends, best friends. There had never been this sort of unnerving silence before. Not that you could remember, anyway.

What is going on in your head, Jihoon? You found yourself wondering since you couldn’t read his face. Have you started to figure it out?

“Sorry, I was thinking.” He muttered suddenly, shaking his head. “But I know what I need to write now. Will you read this one too? Even if it gets pretty long?”

“Of course!” You exclaimed with a smile. “When have I ever shied away from a challenge?”

The soft glisten in his eyes made your heart flutter.

“Never.”

When the bell rang and you parted ways, you wondered if Jihoon had ever written you a letter.

Well there’s a first time for everything.

For the next week, he was in full writer mode. And there were no more notes from his secret admirer, not that you expected there to be any. Every chance he got he was scribbling something down on whatever surface he could get his hands on. Textbooks, paper, his arm, he was more inspired than you’d ever seen before and nothing was going to stop him. He didn’t even come over to your house over the weekend, a ritual you hadn’t broken in the ten plus years you had known each other. It was a lonely week, for sure, but you knew it was for a good cause.

Then, after what felt like an eternity of silence, he approached you in the courtyard with a single sheet of paper in his hand.

“Hey…” He started uneasily, his grip tightening. “How’re you?”

Seriously? You mused to yourself with a smile. “I’m good, how’s the writing?”

“Done.” He clipped. “And—I think I covered everything.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, eyeing the sheet of paper. “With all of that writing I thought you’d have a novel for me.”

He shook his head, while a blush crawled up his neck. “Sometimes being concise is more effective than being overly wordy.”

“That’s true.” You grinned. “Easier for me to edit anyway.”

Nodding, he shoved the paper into your hand. “Here. Take your time, I don’t want you to rush it.”

“I won’t.” You promised, resisting the urge to start reading right away. “I know you put a lot of thought into this.”

With that, he turned around and walked off without another word. Leaving you holding something that looked like little more than pen ink on paper, but felt like a confession on fire. Once he was out of eyesight, you exhaled a breath you had been holding unintentionally and started reading.

To the person I have never loved before. It began, and you weren’t prepared for the roller coaster you had willingly climbed into.

This isn’t for the person I’ve loved all along, no. This is for you, someone who managed to stir my emotions more than a raging monsoon with only a few words and the hint of a promise. Who are you? I wondered to myself, because you were without equal. How could I have missed you? You were extraordinary. You didn’t have a face, all I had of you was a letter slipped into my locker, you were a ghost and I was set ablaze by your words. I had never felt like that before, my heart was unprepared. As was I. You made me question everything, and made me realize things I had never seen before.

What I felt for you wasn’t love, even though I thought it was at first. You presented me with feelings I decided I would never feel, so I could only assume that it was love. I felt like a live wire, ready to spark at a moment's notice. All I could think about was you. The infinite options and scenarios I dreamt up, all because of you, was astronomical. It was exhilarating, and I found myself drunk on the endless possibilities that you presented me. What else could make me feel that way, if it wasn’t love?

The answer was one I didn’t expect, and it hit me like a tsunami. I started to feel that way towards someone I already know. Someone who has cared for me more than anyone should, they have been my best friend for years so how could I suddenly feel the same way? How could my friendship for them become intertwined with the love I thought was solely reserved for you? And how could I have missed it after being enveloped by their warmth for so long?

You changed all of that. You made me see clearly for the first time in years and I was completely undone. Everything I knew was suddenly challenged, my feelings towards the most important person in my life changed without any warning, and I didn’t know what to do. How could I ask them, a friend, to see me as anything more? I was lost, trapped in an endless loop of destructive thoughts and desire. Desperately wanting to scream my feelings from the rooftop while fearing the voice that would have to put words to them. Your feelings for me awakened my feelings for them, and suddenly the words that have given me comfort for so long escaped me.

Still, you helped me.

In ways I can only thank with this letter.

You helped me because you are the one who told me to start writing letters. It’s always been you. You are the one who has given my thoughts meaning when I struggled to communicate with the world. One that could never understand someone like me. You are the one who wrote me a letter, asking a coward to help you be brave. It took me a while to realize that you were one and the same, but I picked up on the hints you left behind. I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out.

Would you have showed up had I not asked you to come with me? I think about that often, were you only afraid because my initial thought was that there was no way it could be you? The impossible notion that my best friend could love me anymore than they already do? I have a thousand more questions I want to ask you, but I think I’m brave enough now to ask you in person.

So I’m going to end this letter here, because you deserve so much more than the words I’ve hidden behind for years. A letter I started to write for someone I thought I didn’t know, to the person I’ve never loved before. Funny, how it ended up being a letter to the person I’ve loved all along.

As you read the last line, tears already streaming down your face, you had never felt happier.

“You figured it out.” You whispered, almost in disbelief. “For a second there I thought you never would.”

You don’t know when Jihoon came back, but he was suddenly standing in front of you taking your hand in his. “It really shouldn’t have taken me that long, I’ve only seen your handwriting a thousand times before.”

Laughter bubbled past your lips as you dried your tears with your sleeve. “I was terrified that you would’ve figured me out from the very beginning. Looks like I really give you too much credit sometimes.”

“You do.” He agreed. “So, what did you think of the letter? Any edits you can think of?”

“This isn’t the type of letter that needs editing.” You stated plainly. “It would take away from the author’s meaning.”

“What would that be?” He asked, clearly teasing you. “Enlighten me.”

You shook your head defiantly. “No, no way. It’s your letter, why don’t you tell me what it’s supposed to mean?”

Part of him didn’t want to make it easy, that much you knew with absolute certainty. But, for the sake of time and your poor heart, he would let you off the hook. Just this once.

“That I love you.” He said softly. “More than anything else.”

Choking out a sob, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in close.

“I love you too, Jihoon.”

In the end, neither of you were good with words, but you only needed to know what to say to each other.

#thesvttown #kpopscape #ficscafe #jihoon fanfic #woozi fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #jihoon scenarios #woozi scenarios #fic:ljh #g:fluff #g:romance #w:5k #r:pg #t:oneshot #tw:none #p:2nd #s:reader #fic:svt #*loved before #chilligyu #lex writes

[hollandsrecs]

fluff masterlist (1)

links last checked 12/05/21 | more masterlists

beach day by marvelbws

british people be like by kelieah

summary: you make tom duet the “british people be like” tiktok.

cuddle session by cali-holland

summary: when zendaya posts a picture of you and tom cuddling, the internet freaks out.

dance to this by sunshinehollandd

summary: you and tom are planning to go out for the night, but end up getting sidetracked.

driving in the rain by parkers-gal

summary: fluffy dinner date and rainy drive back home.

family isn’t always blood by toms-gf

finals week by thollandthot

summary: your doting boyfriend decides to visit you at school in hopes to help you relieve some stress during your exams.

fluff alphabet by imagines-mai

home by parkersroses

home sweet home by sunshinehollandd

summary: tom comes home after being away for a while.

how to care for an overwhelmed boyfriend by words-for-holland

summary: tom is always there to take care of y/n when she needs him, but now it’s y/n’s turn to take care of him.

hubby by cali-holland

summary: tom makes even the simplest of days amazing.

i got you by kelieah

summary: celebrating new years with tom and tessa.

i want to by sunshinehollandd

summary: you and tom are alone in his room for the first time.

imagine... by starlight-parkers

in his by madmadmilk

summary: recounting a cold night, where you are happy to be his.

keep dreaming by spidervveb

summary: tom comes home late to find you sleeping on the sofa and brings you to bed.

loving tom by peterplanet

summary: in which your love for tom is selfless.

morning sun by rosyparkers

summary: you love soft sunday mornings with tom almost as much as you love his hands.

mornings with you by mcumendes

my shot by saysomethingspiderman (ao3)

summary: tom surprises you during your west end debut.

on the dot by ptersmj

summary: tom is always running late, but never this much.

one in the morning by rosyparkers

summary: domesticity in the middle of the night with one (1) goofy husband.

pet names by softspideys

summary: you and tom are broken up, but continue to use old pet names for each other.

petals & thorns by wazzupmrstark

summary: tom always brings you flowers when he’s thinking of you, and you want to switch it up and return the favor.

plank all over me by waitimcomingtoo

summary: you have to keep your cool while the incredibly flirty tom holland planks over you.

press week by parkersbliss

summary: just three times you and tom were too adorable during press week.

proud by asonofpeter

summary: you’re just really proud of tom. 

puppy love by peter-is-the-best-avenger

summary: tessa getting all jealous when she sees you and tom kissing.

quit staring by sanjariti (ao3)

summary: tom just can't quit staring at you.

quiet nights by duskholland

summary: tom’s had a day. from working a night shoot to being followed by loud paparazzi to just generally feeling down in the dumps, he’s exhausted. luckily, there’s always somewhere he can go for refuge.

rest by hilllsnholland

summary: tom needs to wake up early for his live stream so you cuddle with him and help him get some well-deserved rest afterward.

sacred new beginnings by cali-holland

summary: you fall in love with tom on cornelia street.

simple acts of intimacy by parkers-gal

soft moments in bed by 5-seconds-of-mendes

stay by softspideys

summary: four times tom proves to you he’s not going anywhere, and one time you prove it to him.

stuck with me by devotion

the stray by allegra-writes

#fluff masterlists #g:fluff #tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland fics #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #hollandsrecs

[qobiin]

to live for us

pairing: gratsu (gray x natsu)

genre: angst, fluff | established relationship, canon-compliant

warnings: mentioned suicide attempt, post-galuna island arc, hurt/comfort, gray needs therapy

word count: 1684

summary: Natsu and Gray finally sit down and talk about Gray's Iced Shell attempt on Galuna Island.

“We need to talk.”

Natsu looks up from the drink Mirajane set down on the table before him a few minutes ago. Gray is standing in front of him, arms crossed against his chest in an attempt to stop his hands from subconsciously removing his clothes.

It never works, but Gray is of the mind that it makes him appear more intimidating than he actually is. Of course, Natsu isn’t sure he could ever find someone who wears underwear with hearts on them intimidating.

“Finally!” Natsu cheers, forcing a smile onto his face even when it’s the last thing he wishes to do. “Back home then?”

Gray nods even as he scowls, but he turns on his heel and immediately makes his way towards Fairy Tail’s doors anyway. Natsu jumps up from his seat and waves goodbye to Lucy who is sitting at the bar with Erza.

Happy looks up at him as he stands, but Natsu only has to wave wordlessly at him before the blue cat returns to focusing on his food. Gray is already halfway across the room, not one to wait or beat around the bush for important conversations like the one they are going to have. Natsu follows after him with his signature smile stuck in place, making sure to not have anything appear out of the ordinary about this situation.

He catches a few Fairy Tail members giving them odd glances, probably due to his and Gray’s lack of fighting and loud taunting. Natsu only waves pointedly at them before they avert their gazes and return back to what they were doing beforehand.

Natsu does not try to be subtle as he sniffs the air, taking in the familiar mix of scents in the guild. Everyone in the guild has known him long enough to know about the extent of the abilities he gained through the Dragon Slayer Magic that Igneel taught him as a child. There’s no need to be secretive around his hoard anyway.

Out in the streets, trailing after Gray as he leads them home, Natsu tones down on his sniffing as best as he can. If he garners a few strange or confused looks though, he doesn’t beat himself up about it. Most of these people will write off his behavior as a weird wizard thing and continue on with their day as they give him a wide berth. There is no need to worry.

His attention is drawn back to the moment when the scents start to signal his proximity to their home. Gray reaches the front door first and unlocks it, leaving it open for Natsu behind him.

The smell of home almost knocks him off his feet as he crosses the threshold. It’s just his, Happy, and Gray’s scents here, with hints of Erza scattered all around. Albeit, Gray’s scent is a bit stale considering the fact this is his first time returning home since they came back from Galuna Island.

They escaped punishment for breaking guild rules because the master wasn’t there but Natsu would like to not switch bodies with anyone ever again. It has been a few days at this point and still, Gray has not returned home. Natsu has been waiting patiently for this moment when they will sit down and discuss what is wrong.

Gray is sitting on their bed, shoes off and hands gripping the bottom of his shirt. Natsu reaches out and stops him from stripping, eyes on Gray’s face as the man focuses back in on the moment at present.

“Thanks,” Gray mumbles sullenly, his gaze downcast.

Natsu doesn’t say anything. He merely waits.

“I know you’re mad at me, but if you could tell me why you’re mad at me, it would make my apologizing to you much easier,” Gray scrambles to say after a moment of silence has passed between them.

Natsu tilts his head to the side and inhales, tasting the nerves and fright swirling around the edges of Gray’s scent. He exhales heavily, sitting down slowly on the bed beside Gray.

He leans back and lies down, keeping his eyes on the ceiling and not the man who should have been home with him these past few days. “I’m not mad.”

Gray twists at the waist to stare at him, his shoulders a stiff line that Natsu isn’t sure he has permission to soothe just yet. “Lying won’t help.”

“I’m not mad,” Natsu repeats, relaxing as their scents begin to blend together. “I’m worried about you. You scared me back there when you were going to sacrifice yourself to restrain Lyon. You knew by doing it your way you were going to end your life and yet you tried anyway.”

The silence that befalls them then is deafening. It goes on long enough that Natsu wonders if he should be angry after all. After a few seconds of contemplation though, he decides that anger would not help him right now and waits patiently for Gray to say something.

However, the longer the silence continues, the less likely Natsu believes that to be. Gray isn’t known for talking about feelings. Not just his own, but discussing feelings in general always gives his face a pinched quality that Natsu can’t help but laugh at sometimes.

He isn’t laughing now.

“You remember what I said when I asked you if we could find a place together, right?” Natsu asks once he is certain Gray won’t say anything without more prompting.

Natsu sees Gray’s nod in the corner of his eye and grins up at the ceiling as he thinks of the memory. Gray’s eyes had gone wide with surprise, his scent expanding with the force of it and appealing to Natsu so much he barely realized how close he had been getting until Gray pushed him back with a hand on his bare chest. Natsu had leaned in again to bury his nose in Gray’s neck anyway and gulp down lungfuls of his scent, smiling as Gray threaded his fingers through his hair and asked him why.

“I told you that you were the first in the guild to be added to my hoard when we were children. That I would want you near almost always and would despise every moment that we were apart,” Natsu recalls, his smile softer at the edges now. “I told you I fell in love with you when we were teenagers and that I would like to make you my mate in the future and you accepted.”

Natsu waits again, just to see if Gray will say anything at all before he uses his last-ditch effort. “How am I going to make you my mate if you’re not there for the future?”

Gray makes a sound as if Natsu has just kicked all the air out of his chest. They have fought and sparred enough times for Natsu to know what that actually sounds like so when Gray wheezes, he sits up quickly. He reaches out and takes Gray’s hands, biting his lip as the man who is his opposite in almost everything finally begins to cry.

Natsu moves closer until he can wrap his arms around Gray, tucking his head under Natsu’s chin as he shakes. His breath hitches but Natsu only clutches him tighter, holding him securely in his arms even as Gray somehow migrates to his lap. Natsu doesn’t mind that, he just holds on and waits.

Eventually, Gray’s sobs begin to make sense. Most of what he is saying is a mantra of “I’m sorry”s and half-aborted “I didn’t mean to do that”s, but Natsu gets the gist. He shushes and rocks Gray in his arms, focusing on their scents instead of the urge to cry with his mate.

When the worst of Gray’s tears have dried up, Natsu kisses the side of his head and pulls back far enough for their gazes to meet. Gray’s eyes are red-rimmed and puffy but he isn’t avoiding Natsu’s gaze anymore and that’s definitely a start.

“I think what happened with Ur was only dragged back up at Galuna Island and you never really healed from it,” Natsu ponders aloud, tilting his head in silent question and continuing when Gray nods tiredly. “She raised you like Igneel raised me and we’ve never gotten over suddenly losing them. Have we?”

Gray has to clear his throat twice before he says, “I don’t think we’ll ever be over that.”

“No,” Natsu agrees. “We won’t.”

“I should talk to someone,” Gray murmurs, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement when Natsu raises an unimpressed brow at him. “A professional. Mirajane has been saying I should talk to the Good Doctor who helped Elfman after…”

Natsu smiles bitterly in response. Elfman was not the only one who had to talk to the Good Doctor after Lisanna died after all. Gray knows about this, of course, but Natsu had never strived to convince him of talking to the Good Doctor until now.

“I can let them know at my next session to expect an inquiry from you?” Natsu suggests.

Gray nods, leaning in quickly to press a kiss to Natsu’s cheek. “I’m still sorry. I just didn’t know how to fix things back on Galuna Island.”

Natsu nods but knows without seeing that his smile is not as bright anymore. “I think you just have to remember that you’re not alone anymore. Neither of us is and I’ll always have your back. We’re Fairy Tail members and you’re the one who I want to spend the rest of my life with. I want us both to have long futures ahead of us.”

Gray’s cheeks flush a light pink, his scent curling with both embarrassment and quiet joy. “It will be hard, but I’ll try. If not for me or for you, then for Ur. For the life she gave me by giving up her own.”

“For Ur and Igneel,” Natsu agrees. “May they look upon us and see us happy. Together.”

“Together,” Gray assures him before he leans in and their lips meet in a soft kiss.

a/n: i forgot to post this when i first posted it on ao3, but i hope you all like this! this was written for icewhisper as part of the secret snipers exchange 2020!

#gratsu #gray x natsu #natsu x gray #fairy tail #ft #oneshot #f:ft #g:angst #g:fluff #t:oneshot #p:gray/natsu #tlfu #m: fic

[mrperfectlychan-archive]

[03:45pm]

Autumn isn't that special. You never feel the cozy feeling everyone seemed to embrace on October. The fading colors of the leaves and the chilly wind on your face as you crossed the street. It wasn't special.

Until you got to meet the autumn boy with his pretty eyes and dimples and so, so warm smile. Chan was autumn breeze; never cold but never hot. Just the perfect equilibrium in the world that is you. He filled your senses with his presence and let you dizzy, wondering about the comfort invading you and how to never let it go. He was the gasp for air you needed when you didn't know you were drowning.

When he asks you if you're cold as you both walk through the park, fingers intertwined, you say yes, just to feel him get closer to you, his hand going around your shoulders as he keeps talking about his new experience at work. There's a glowing in the leaves on the ground. You just listen, the autumn breeze covering you from head to toes.

You're warm.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #bang chan #stray kids fanfic #stray kids timestamps #skz fanfic #vane writes #fic #skz timestamps #bang chan scenarios #bang chan fanfic #bang chan scenearios #g:fluff #m:chris #I KNOW ITS NOT AUTUMN BUT I WAS LISTENING TO THE ULTIMATE AUTUMN ALBUM RED BY TAYLOR SWIFT SO

[dimplereads]

𖦹 jungxk -> crush ʚїɞ 5.1k . jeon jungkook . the first thing jungkook thinks when he sees you is wow. he hasn’t been up for very long,and you don’t even know he’s looking at you through the window. yoongi-hyung has wrapped you up in his arms as you sob and sob, muted behind the protective hospital glass. even with messy hair and wet eyes he’s starstruck. it’s why he recoils slightly when jimin and namjoon explain to him that you’re his wife.

“i’m your husband. let me be your husband.”

🌷 when gguk said this.. good stuff right there omg. this was really sweet with a twinge of melancholy. i really want to squish eunmi’s cheek pls!! omg also forgot to add that i’m usually an avid memory loss/amnesia fic hater but ! i really liked this one since it started off with this premise, instead of just out of the blue 20k+ words in, where basically all the good things experienced were just gone, don’t like that feeling :( but this beautiful piece of writing gets a pass!

#gr:bts #m:jjk #g:fluff #g:angst #g:hurt/comfort #l:oneshot #5kto10k #au:memoryloss #r:married #rating:nsfw

[soybeantree]

pairing: drunk!seungcheol (svt) x reader

genre/warning: fluff.

word count: 700+

description: if there was one thing you could always expect from your boyfriend, was that he’d be the life of the party. 

“Seungcheol's had too much to drink.” Vernon shouts over the pounding music and screeching which somehow passes for singing with drunk people.

You let your phone rest on your face as you take ten seconds to calm your rage.

If you were a good girlfriend, you would immediately ask if he was okay. If you were a great girlfriend, you would have already climbed out of bed and put your pants on, demanding to know where they were and telling him you’d be there soon. You are an average girlfriend who he woke up at one in the morning on a weeknight.

“Y/N?” Vernon questions your silence. 

“Do I need to come and get him?”

“Please? Jeonghan and I have our hands full with everyone else. I’ve called Soonyoung's girlfriend and Jun's. They’re on their way. If you can get Seungcheol, I think we can handle the rest.”

Kicking off your covers, you crawl out of bed. “Whose bright idea was this anyway?” You grumble as you rummage in the dark for a pair of pants. You really need to replace the bulb in your night stand’s lamp. “It's a week night, Vernon. A week night.” You struggle into your pants, putting them on backwards first, as Vernon fumbles through an explanation. “I’m not blaming you, Vernon. But if you point the finger in the right direction, I may murder someone.” He staunchly refuses, so you tell him to send you the address and hang up.

The noraebang is all neon lights. Standing in front of it, you could be convinced it was day time, but the tightness under your eyes reminds you of where you should be right now. You smother a yawn as you enter the too bright building. You walk past rooms filled with people, and you glare at them. The room at the end of the hall flashes with blue and green lights. Their rhythm is swift, promising a high tempo song.

Pushing open the door unleashes a hammer of noise, and your head immediately responds with an ache. Vernon is standing with Mingyu and Dino in a corner. The two have sandwiched him between them and are swaying to the music. He waves a free hand before pointing across the room to the spot in front of the monitor where Seungcheol dances with a chopstick in one hand and a tambourine in the other. You give Vernon a thumbs up before moving further into the chaos.

The sound continues to beat against your head as you make your way across the trash strewn floor. Seungkwan barrels toward you with mic in hand, and you set his drunk ass on a couch. You’re here for one reason, and once you have him by the wrist you two will be out of here and headed back to your bed.

Seungcheol sees you before you reach him. The tambourine and chopstick go flying as he throws his arms out ready to smother you with his love. You allow the hug. There’s no escaping it, and even if you are peeved, you still want the hug. “Why are you here? Do you want to sing?” He steps back his eyes aglow, ready to steal the microphone from Seungkwan.

You place your hands on either side of his head. “No, we are leaving.” He pouts and whines, the epitome of a puppy, but you keep your hands firmly in place. “I am taking you to my apartment.” His eyes narrow to sultry slits, but you quickly correct that thought pattern. “You are sleeping on the couch, and we'll both be lucky if you’re still awake when we get there.” You release his face and grab a wrist. He follows diligently behind you.

He is half awake when you arrive back at your apartment which means he half walks and you half carry him up the stairs. You curse him with each step you take, but he hears nothing but music and continues to sing.

Out of breath when you enter, you drop him on a kitchen chair and fill a glass of water for him and yourself. His glass gets a straw. You place it in front of him at the table, positioning the straw in his mouth. “Drink.” And you stand beside him until the water level starts dropping.

As he works on his water, you grab an extra blanket and pillow from the hall closet and make up the couch as best you can. The glass is empty when you return, and Seungcheol sleeps with his head on the table. You contemplate leaving him there for the night but know that his hangover will be bad enough without a crick in his neck.

With a gentle nudge, he wakes enough for you to get him off the chair and onto the couch. You pull off his shoes, position his head comfortably on the pillow and cover him with the blanket. His face softens with sleep, and you allow yourself a moment to stare. The warmth which fills your chest reminds you why you are willing to forfeit sleep and travel halfway across the city for this stupid man.

Pushing yourself off the floor, you head for your bedroom, but a hand on your wrist pulls you back. Seungcheol stares up at you, sleep heavy on his lids. “I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you, too.” You bend over to place a kiss on his forehead.

#kwritersworldnet #seventeen drabble #seungcheol drabble #seventeen fanfiction #seungcheol fanfiction #s.coups drabble #seungcheol #s.coups #g:fluff #svt #seventeen #hmw

[mochikis]

petcore!jeno

mark | renjun | jeno | donghyuck | jaemin | chenle | jisung

everyone loves him. your mom, your dad, your aunt, your cousin’s daughter’s pet dog... everyone

has the natural ability to attract animals to his vicinity

you simply knew him as the kid birds would bother with or without food

jeno’s natural gentleness and eye-smile attracts not only animals but people as well

you don’t know jeno that well, but on a random tuesday, you had went to the pet shop just to fawn over the small section of cats

you weren’t planning on buying any, too much work has to be put in

you had promised yourself to never get a pet until after you find a stable income

so like any other day, you simply went over and looked

jeno, like always, stood at the counter

you being you, you asked jeno if he could take one of the cats out for you to play with

jeno looks at you with interest dotting his irises

not only is jeno allergic, it’s also against the store policy to do what you had just requested

so jeno, being the diligent employee he is, shook his head

jeno really doesn’t know how to deal with people when they’re sad, upon seconds of you frowning and pleading, he changed his answer to yes right away

jeno walked over and gently cradled the kitten in his arms, cooing at it like he was soothing a crying baby

this moment feels so serene and you felt like you were third wheeling them

seeing you standing still, jeno laughs and calls you over

“... how do you know my name?”

“y/n you do realise we’ve been neighbours for years now right?”

embarrassed, you look back down on the fur of the cat and fought against the rising blush

“ah, my meds”

you looked at jeno, confused. 

“meds? for what”

jeno just laughs, his laugh not as soothing as before and he goes to the table

“for my allergy”

“allergy? like pollen allergy?”

jeno flashes his signature crescent smile at you and hums

“i’m allergic to animal fur, especially cats”

your utterly confused expression was on full display

“why’re you working here then”

jeno glances at you, letting out a nervous chuckle

“is it not obvious?”

“... is it because animals love you?”

jeno avoids all eye contact with you, almost glaring at the cats as he did so

“there’s that but also.... because i get to see you”

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno scenarios #nct #nct dream #nct dream blurbs #jeno blurbs #kpop blurbs nct blurbs #nct dream as #lee jeno #jeno #jeno as #* #*bullet #g:fluff #m:jeno

[jeonginify]

j:mixtape/heart_drive — han jisung. ·˚ ༘♡

↝ pairing: han jisung x reader ↝ genre: humor, angst, fake dating au, soundcloud rapper au ↝ word count: 24k ↝ warnings: alcohol consumption, explicit language, jisung is dumb... like actually an idiot. this is the idiots to lovers that you didn’t know you needed. some good ol’ slow burn, which i’m sure is obvious because this is a fucking beast but it must be noted, so i’m going on the record here... yes this did take me an entire year to write, no i am not proud of it but here we are. i hope you enjoy?

↝ description: for the past year, you’ve had a big fat crush on the (very) oblivious han jisung. you’ve dreamt about dating him… you just never imagined that when it finally happened, you would be the last to find out. or, jisung, in all his glorious idiocy, decides that the two of you faking a relationship is the solution to all his problems. (he, of course, conveniently forgets to let you know about it.)

At 10:30am on a Saturday morning, halfway through midterm season, you find yourself studying hopelessly at home by candle light.

You know how it sounds—studying, on a Saturday, in the morning? Just because you’re a struggling college student doesn’t mean you don’t have standards.

Except, at this point in the semester, you’re getting desperate, and all your standards are quickly going out the window. With exams and deadlines piling up, you’re barely hanging on, and it’s all you can do to not drown under the sheer amount of work you have to complete within the next week.

If you’re being honest, you’ve probably been wearing the same hoodie and leggings for the past three days, and you can’t quite remember the last time you had a proper meal—you know, one that consists of more than hot cheetos and gatorade. For the last week, you’ve bounced back and forth between your apartment, the library, and your classes like a ball inside a pinball machine, and you can feel your will to live slowly disintegrating as time passes.

As an anthropology major at a university renowned for their liberal arts programs, your curriculum is challenging—and although it is undeniable that you love what you’re studying, sometimes it can get a bit much.

It’s usually around this time in the semester, actually, that you begin to regret your life choices.

Choices like deciding it would be a good idea to study by candlelight.

In your defense, though, you don’t really have many options. Not since the storm last night that knocked out the power in your building, anyways. Your landlord promised it would all be up again by tomorrow, but you need to study (like, today) and well... Let’s just say the tiny windows in your apartment make a jail cell look like a resort.

You’re pouring over your archaeology textbook miserably when your phone chimes, startling you out of your reverie.

You fumble for your phone, eagerly dropping the pen you had been previously holding, and your best friend’s name flashes across the screen as you unlock it.

[10:37am] hyunjin: y/n r u up yet [10:37am] hyunjin: wait, dumb question. ofc u are

You almost groan when you read the messages, blinking blue across your LED screen.

You love Hyunjin, you really do. As his best friend, you don’t really have much of a choice in that manner actually. But you can’t help the dread that washes over you at his message.

Because the thing about Hyunjin is that he has a knack for coming up with harebrained ideas and half baked schemes, and always—always, no matter how hard you try—manages to rope you into them too, regardless of whether or not you have more important things to be doing.

[10:45am] hyunjin: i can see u reading the msgs!! respond to me!!!!

[10:45am] you: fuck [10:45am] you: i thought i had my read receipts off??

[10:46am] hyunjin: u did [10:46am] hyunjin: i turned them back on 😌

[10:48am] you: bitch

[10:48am] hyunjin: mayb if u answered my texts i wouldn’t have to turn them on huh

[10:49am] you: wtvr 🙄 [10:49am] you: what do u want?

[10:50am] hyunjin: come over

[10:52am] you: look i know i’m hot and all but

[10:52am] hyunjin: what [10:52am] hyunjin: OH EW NO

[10:53am] hyunjin: why would u ever say that 🤢 [10:53am] hyunjin: i’m out of ur league pls

[10:54am] you: u mean I’M out of UR league

[10:54am] hyunjin: no i said what i said

[10:55am] hyunjin: but NO this is not why i texted u [10:55am] hyunjin: some of the guys r coming over so u should come 2

[10:56am] you: can’t, have 2 study

[10:57am] hyunjin: it wasn’t a question

[10:58am] hyunjin: cmoooon y/n you’ve literally been killing urself over midterms [10:58am] hyunjin: pls. i haven’t seen u in like a week :(

[10:59am] you: yea cuz unlike u i actually want to PASS [10:59am] you: shouldn’t u be studying too??????

[11:00am] hyunjin: pfft, studying is for losers [11:00am] hyunjin: when was the last time u left ur apartment anyways

[11:01am] hyunjin: ur brain is gonna liquefy soon!!!!! [11:01am] hyunjin: pls :((((( i think u can take a break for an hour at least :(

[11:03am] you: srry can’t hear u over the sound of archeomagnetism and dendrochronology

[11:04am] hyunjin: did i mention jisung is gonna be home

At the mention of his roommate, you tense up.

Because here’s the thing—his roommate, Han Jisung? You’ve known him almost as long as you’ve known Hyunjin, and there are a few undeniable facts about him.

Like how he’s really loud, kind of annoying, maybe even a little bit of an idiot. But if he’s an idiot, you must be an even bigger one, because you’ve had a big fat crush on him for a long time.

A really long time.

On the upper side of 2 years kind of long time. And the thing is, you aren’t even the kind of person who’s good at hiding these kinds of things. You think the only reason he hasn’t figured out is because of how oblivious he is, because you aren’t very discreet. Hyunjin caught on over a year ago, and he never fails to use it as emotional blackmail.

But you’re not so whipped that you would drop everything at the chance to see him, okay... You’re not!

Still, your heart beats a little faster as you fumble to type out a response.

[11:08am] you: okay, and?

[11:09am] hyunjin: oh, nothing~

You can hear his teasing singsong in your ear, like a tick you can’t shake off, and you’re not sure whether you want to smack him over the head or kick him in the shin more—probably both.

[11:11am] hyunjin: listen, i know ur stressed over this archaeology midterm [11:11am] hyunjin: but i need my weekly y/n fix sooo

[11:13am] hyunjin: if ur not here in half an hour i’m gonna beat ur ass

[11:16am] you: u think that scares me? [11:16am] you: i’d like to see u TRY

[11:18am] hyunjin: well if ur not coming... i guess i’ll just... [11:18am] hyunjin: tell jisung all ur embarrassing secrets

[11:19am] hyunjin: maybe i’ll start with the waffle house incident from freshman year?

[11:20am] hyunjin: pls come over :((( we can play mario kart :((( [11:20am] hyunjin: i’ll even play toad h- 🤢toad harbo- 🤢

[11:21am] you: Mrssage read at 11:21am ✓

[11:22am] hyunjin: BITCH IS THAT A TYPO [11:22am] hyunjin: TOAD HARBOR IS DISGUSTING I’M WILLING TO SACRIFICE A LOT 4 U

[11:24am] you: Message read at 11:21am ✓

[11:25am] hyunjin: ITS NOT EVEN 11:21 ANYMORE???

[11:27am] you: Message read at 11:27am ✓

In the end, though, it doesn’t take much for you to cave.

You would like to make it expressly clear that your decision to take a break has absolutely nothing to do with Han Jisung, and instead has more to do with the fact that Hyunjin (as infuriatingly annoying as he is) was right when he said your brain would liquefy soon if you don’t leave the house.

After all, you have been studying your ass off for the past two weeks, and maybe a little break would give you a chance to refocus. And, although you aren’t going over in the hopes of seeing Jisung... Well, it couldn’t hurt, right?

So, with the intent to stay for two hours, max (you do have a little self control, after all), you find yourself at Hyunjin’s building.

The building that he lives in has thin walls, and the moment you step onto the landing of their floor, you can hear the faint sound of the Mario Kart theme and some very aggressive yelling echo down the hall.

It gets louder as you round the corner, and you can vaguely make out someone telling Hyunjin to “suck it, frogface!” by the time you arrive at his door. Shaking your head slightly, you lift your hand to knock, but before you get too far, the door swings open.

“Y/N!” Hyunjin exclaims brightly, the grin on his face faltering as he looks you up and down.

“Wow. You look...”

“Amazing?” You respond dryly. “I know.”

He raises a brow. “I was going to say like you haven’t showered in a week or slept in two, but okay.”

You narrow your eyes and then punch him—because, yeah, it’s true, but that doesn’t mean he should say it anyways.

“Yeah, well, whatever,” you grumble. You can’t help but feel a bit jealous as you take in his appearance: clean and fresh and like he’s actually slept in a bed recently.

You and Hyunjin are both anthropology majors—it’s how you met, actually. Freshman year and he was one of the only people you could stand, mostly because of your shared love for dinosaur bones and aversion to large groups of people.

And yet, despite carrying the same course load for the past two years, he always seemed to manage it better than you ever could.

You don’t really understand it, like... At all. It’s like one of the mysteries of the modern world—how Hwang Hyunjin manages to ace his classes with flying colors while simultaneously not knowing the difference between Paris, France and Paris Hilton.

“Are you going to let me in?” You ask pointedly and he opens his mouth, probably to say something snarky back, but promptly shuts it when you shoot a glare at him.

Wordlessly, he holds the door open for you, and you step into the apartment.

“Guys,” he calls out and your eyes land on Jisung and your two mutual friends, Felix and Seungmin, as you walk into the living room. “Guess who finally decided to show up!”

“Hey Y/N,” Seungmin smiles slightly as you flop onto the couch next to him with a sigh. Felix and Jisung both grunt in your general direction, but they seem too consumed with what looks like an intense game of Mario Kart to do much more.

“Hyunjin threatened you into coming over too?” You ask as you shrug off your sweater, and Seungmin snorts. 

“Yeah, something like that,” he says back lightly. “Were you studying?”

“Yes,” you wallow, “but... Here I am despite my better judgement. What about you?”

“I don’t really have much work this weekend,” Seungmin replies. “Other than, you know...”

He holds up the worn book in his hands and you groan.

“Lucky... I wish I was a literature major.”

“Jisung, did you just red shell me?!” Felix exclaims, aghast, and your attention shifts to the TV.

“And if I did?” Jisung responds smugly, his eyes trained on the illuminated screen.

Felix narrows his eyes. “I mean, that’s what this blue shell is for, I guess.”

“Fuck,” Jisung curses as he—playing as baby Peach—gets bombed, and Felix (baby Daisy) speeds past.

“Language!” You chide instinctively. “There are children here...”

“Sorry!” Jisung spares a glance at you, a cheesy and apologetic grin stretched across his face, and your heart skips a beat.

Your cheeks heat up and he tilts his head curiously to the side, as if he’s about to say something more—and then the moment passes as Hyunjin chimes from the kitchen, “don’t talk about Felix like that.”

You turn in his direction and try your best to deadpan, but your face still feels warm and the words almost catch in your throat.

“I was talking about you,” you childishly stick out your tongue, and felix reaches over for a quick high five without looking away from the screen.

“Y/N,” Jisung complains distractedly. “You can’t take Felix’s side. You were my friend first!”

“Sorry,” you say as nonchalantly as you can. “Maybe if you were winning, but...”

“You’re not,” Hyunjin pipes up helpfully as he slouches down in between you and Seungmin, and you nod in agreement.

“What he said.”

Jisung sticks up his middle finger at the two of you. You and Hyunjin, ignoring him, fist bump.

It takes a few more minutes (precisely three more courses, including Moo Moo Farm and Yoshi Falls—seriously, who gets 12th in Yoshi Falls?) before Jisung throws down the controller in defeat, a groan leaving his lips.

“You’re cheating anyways,” he scoffs, crossing his arms as he turns away from Felix stubbornly.

He looks like a child, and you and Hyunjin burst into laughter as Felix ignores him, breaking out into a very... interesting victory dance as he chants “I beat you!” over and over again.

Seungmin rolls his eyes at their childish antics and Hyunjin keels over, almost falling off the couch as Felix begins doing something reminiscent of the chicken dance. You pull out your phone with no hesitation and open Snapchat, unwilling to pass up the opportunity for blackmail material.

“I won,” Felix crows, and Jisung waves him off, annoyed. 

“Yeah, we know.”

Felix jumps back on the cushions next to him and looks at him expectantly. “So, ‘fess up. What have you been hiding from us?”

“What, did he feed Minho’s cats fish food again?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, that was one time,” Jisung complains immediately, “and you know how confusing the label is! Both of them have pictures of fishes on them, how was I supposed to know the difference between the cat food and the fish food?”

He pouts, and you look away quickly—even when he’s upset, he still looks cute.

“By reading the label,” Hyunjin says plainly. “You know, like an actual functioning adult.”

“Bold of you to assume he’s functioning. Or an adult,” Seungmin pipes up.

“Okay,” Jisung scoffs. “Is it, like, national bully Han Jisung day?”

“It doesn’t have to be when you make it so easy,” Felix shrugs.

Jisung looks around helplessly, and when his eyes meet yours, you just purse your lips.

“Look, I’m not saying he’s right,” you begin,” but if the shoe fits...”

He pouts again, and you cough as your breath gets caught in your throat.

“Okay, but seriously—“ you begin, desperate to change the topic before he does something even more adorable and you just spontaneously combust on the spot.

“—What are you hiding? If it’s a dead body, I can help, but you’ll have to give me a few hours.”

“It’s not,” Jisung shudders, “but the fact that you are so prepared for that possibility makes me absolutely terrified.

You grin at him sweetly. “As you should be.”

“Y/N, please don’t kill anyone,” Hyunjin begs. “Please, not again.”

“Again?” Jisung coughs, aghast. The four of you collectively ignore him.

“Okay, so if it’s not the fish food thing, or a dead body, then what did he do?” You ask Felix.

“Hmm, I wonder what it could be?” Felix says sarcastically, turning to pointedly stare at Jisung. “Would you like to, I don’t know, share with the group?”

“Share? W-What?” Jisung asks, suddenly nervous. HIs ears are flushed, and you can see the sweat forming on his brow. “I have nothing to hide!”

Any semblance of conviction vanishes when his voice cracks on the last word, and you snort.

“Well, now we definitely believe you,” Seungmin says dryly.

Felix rolls his eyes. “According to Yuna, that’s not true.”

“Yuna?” You interrupt, slightly confused. “Like... Yuna, my roommate Yuna? Changbin’s cousin, Yuna?”

“Yes, Y/N,” Felix sighs. “Do we know any other Yuna?”

“Oh.” You pause for a moment. “I suppose not. Well, you can continue.”

“W-who’s Yuna?” Jisung stutters and his voice pitches upwards. Much to your chagrin, you can’t help but note once again how cute he looks...

“Jisung, you’ve literally been friends with Yuna since you were kids,” Hyunjin deadpans.

“...I don’t have friends!”

“You won’t after this...” Felix sighs again, exasperated as he turns to you.

“Y/N, you said something about knowing how to hide a dead body?”

You raise a brow. “Are you doubting me?”

“...No.”

“That’s what I thought,” you nod smugly.

“Whatever Yuna told you, she’s lying,” Jisung declares finally, after a moment of silence.

Felix scoffs.

“So you’re saying that you didn’t tell Yuna about some secret girlfriend you have, that you conveniently forget to tell any of us about?”

You must be really tired from all the studying earlier, you think to yourself,, because if you didn’t know any better, you would swear you just heard him say Jisung and girlfriend in the same sentence, unironically...

Jisung, the idiot who after a year and a half of pining, still hasn’t realized how you feel about him. Jisung, the thick headed dummy who literally can never take a hint, and somehow has the worst track record with girls despite how attractive and funny he is.

Hyunjin snorts, voicing your thoughts. “Girlfriend? Who would date Jisung?”

Well, you would, but you’re not about to say that out loud...

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out!” Felix hisses as he turns to glare at Hyunjin, who’s jaw drops open in response.

“Wait, you’re being serious?”

There’s a strange feeling that starts to rise in your throat. It’s almost like a bitterness—but the kind that burns, and a knot tightens in the pit of your stomach. Your body feels hot, almost as if fire is coursing through your veins.

Is he being serious?

“Yes, Hyunjin, obviously,” Felix groans.

His words are like a knife in your stomach, and you almost forget how to breathe.

“Well... I mean...” Jisung begins slowly, his eyes flitting around the room, and Felix punches him.

“I will call Yuna right now.”

That shuts Jisung up, and he sits that, pouting like a wounded baby.

But he doesn’t deny it, and your throat tightens. Your body feels like its overheating and you think you might vomit—is this what jealousy feels like? You swallow, and your tongue scrapes against the roof of your mouth like sandpaper.

“So Yuna doesn’t know who it is?” Hyunjin asks skeptically.

“No,” Jisung rolls his eyes, “because there is no one. She must have heard wrong.”

And he sounds convincing—partly because his voice stays steady as he says it, but also because you want it to be true. But you know Yuna. She’s blunt and straightforward and sometimes a little mean, but as long as you have known her, she’s never told a lie. SHe hates bullshit, so you know Felix is telling the truth.

“How could she have heard wrong?” Felix cries. “Nothing rhymes with ‘I have a girlfriend!’“

“Not nothing,” Jisung reasons, but he’s quickly shut up by the pillow Hyunjin snatches from your grasp to throw at him.

“We’re going to find out one way or another,” Seungmin reasons, “so you might as well tell us now.”

“Well—I mean, there’s not—“ Jisung splutters, and you can feel how frantic he is. How much he doesn’t want to talk about this.

Well, that makes two of you.

Felix opens his mouth, looking like he is about to protest, but you can’t take it anymore—you have to change the topic, and quick.

“Okay ladies,” you clap your hands together dramatically and all attention turns to you temporarily, the words dying on Felix’s tongue. “This has been fun and all, but can we wrap this up? If he says he’s not dating anyone, then he isn’t. Plus, I have 30 minutes left of my break, and I believe someone promised me some Toad Harbor action.”

“Are you challenging me?” Hyunjin quirks a brow, and any thoughts of Jisung and his mysterious girlfriend are forgotten.

Bless boys and their short attention spans...

“And if I am?” You throw back half-heartedly.

He scoffs, flexing his fingers. “Oh, you’re on.”

“Well, would you look at the time!” Jisung glances down at his bare wrist, tapping it as if a watch is there. “I should be going now...”

Felix scowls at him. “What do you mea—”

Jisung catches your gaze, mouthing a quick “thank you,” before he jumps up from where he is sitting and makes a break for his room. He manages to get inside and slam the door shut before Felix gets the chance to wedge his way in, and there is a distinct click of a lock as Felix bangs on the door angrily.

“Han Jisung, this is not over,” he says murderously.

Jisung doesn’t respond, and Felix, glowering, slinks back to the couch.

Hyunjin, who seems to not give a fuck about it, throws you the spare controller and willingly selects Toad Harbor (the worst course, in his opinion, but his opinions are often wrong.) You finish the race in first place—obviously—but the entire game,  your head swims with thoughts of Jisung and his mystery girlfriend.

You’re not sure when or why you started liking Han Jisung. Your feelings for him weren’t something you expected—there wasn’t one grand gesture that captured your heart or one particular instance you can remember that decided it for you.

It’s just, one day you started to notice the little things—like, how when he laughs, he has a habit of hitting whoever is nearest to him because he laughs so hard. How when he tells a joke, he tells it with his whole body: his words, his hands, his face. How when he’s out eating with anybody, he always makes sure everyone else has started eating before he does. How he’s not the best at putting his emotions into words, but while he might be boisterous and loud, when it comes down to it, he’s a really good listener.

And then, you started to realize other things too. Like how you unconsciously look for him everywhere you go—how your heart beats a little bit faster when he’s around, and when he’s not, an unshakeable pit of disappointment weighs your stomach down.

That’s when you knew you were absolutely and totally fucked.

Developing feelings for Jisung wasn’t very memorable, but meeting him for the first time... That’s a different story.

It happened a little more than halfway through the first semester of your freshman year, on one fine Wednesday night when Hyunjin happened to forget his lab notebook in his dorm (like the absolute dolt he is) twenty minutes before said lab began.

He calls you, panicked, begging you to get it for him. He doesn’t have time to make it to his dorm and back in time, and his TA is an ass who’s policy is that every lab session you show up late to, your grade drops a letter. He’s near tears on the phone, blubbering on and on about how much he’ll owe you if you do this one thing for him—so of course, out of the kindness of your heart, you begrudgingly agree to bring his notebook to him.

“Yes, Hyunjin,” you sigh into the phone that is wedged between your shoulder and your ear as you pull your sneakers onto your feet. “I know where your room is. Yes, I know from the—I don’t know, hundreds of times I’ve come over?”

You pause.

“Yes, I heard you. The blue one. Yes, okay, I got it. Can you stop stressing? I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay?”

He starts to say something more, but knowing him, it’s probably just more complaining, so you hang up before he can give himself another panic attack. The line disconnects with a beep and you step out of your room, heading towards the nearest stairwell.

Hyunjin is just lucky that you both happen to live in the same dorm building, you think to yourself wryly as you begin to hike up from the 2nd floor to the 5th, where he lives.

It’s only 3 floors, but you’re still winded by the time you make it up, and you take a moment to catch your breath and curse your weak lungs before you continue down the hall towards Hyunjin’s room.

The two of you are so close that you spend almost every waking moment together, but despite it, you never really spend much time in Hyunjin’s dorm. It’s a combination of the facts that he has a bit of a cleanliness problem, and that your dorm happens to be less stairs to climb—which sounds like an absurd excuse, but when you consider that the elevators seem to be out of service every other week, actually makes quite a bit of sense.

As such, you haven’t met his roommate yet. You’ve heard stories of the elusive Han Jisung from Hyunjin, as well as your other mutual friends Seungmin and Changbin, but he might as well be a ghost for how many times you’ve actually seen him.

When you arrive at room #5014, decorated with cute little postcards by Hyunjin’s endearing RA, Chan, you don’t hesitate before grabbing the handle and swinging the door open. You might not spend much time in his room, but you’ve definitely visited on enough occasions to know that (despite your best efforts) Hyunjin has a bad habit of leaving his door unlocked.

You can’t count how many times you’ve scolded him for it, but his reasoning is that nobody wants to steal from a broke college student and, well, you can’t really argue with that.

You’ve barely taken a step into the room before a high pitched shriek pierces your ears, and you jump in fright when you see a tall and very blond figure cowering on in the left corner of the room.

It’s only when your eyes meet his wide and terrified gaze that you match his scream.

“Who are you?!” You demand immediately, your hands fisted and thrown out defensively in front of you. “What are you doing here? Are you trying to steal from Hyunjin? He doesn’t have anything worth stealing, if that’s what you’re trying to do!”

“Who am I? Who are you?! And why would I want to steal from Hyunjin?”

“Why should I answer you?” You challenge. “You’re the one trying to steal from a poor, unsuspecting college student!”

He gapes at you.

“He doesn’t have anything worth stealing, anyways! Just... this?” You trail off, confused as you pick up a small metal frying pan from the mess of his desk.

“I—“ The boy begins, but you thrust the frying pan in his direction threateningly.

“Who are you?” You repeat. “And before you answer, you should know I have pepper spray and I am not afraid to use it.”

“Woah there, Rapunzel!” He throws his arms up in surrender. “I’m Jisung! Hyunjin’s roommate.”

You pause, slowly lowering your arms.

“Oh.” Then, as realization hits you: “Oh.”

A wave of embarrassment washes over you, and you clear your throat as you try to play off your fighting stance as a really, really awkward hair tuck—which turns out to be even more challenging than you anticipated, considering the fucking frying pan in your hands.

“Yes. Well, that would make sense.”

He stares at you, his eyes narrowed, and you roll your bottom lip anxiously between your teeth.

“Well. Um, I’m Y/N.” You offer awkwardly as you try to set the frying pan down as inconspicuously as you can.

Even as you do, his bewildered gaze never leaves you, and you wince at the loud clang the pan makes as you set it down.

“Oh,” he says a bit lately, and you see recognition flash across his face. “Y/N, you’re Hyunjin’s archaeology friend. Right?”

“Yup,” you say, popping the p and immediately regretting it afterwards. “That’s me.”

His mouth forms a small, soundless ‘o’ but doesn’t say anything more, which you take as your cue to continue.

“I, um, didn’t mean to barge in like this. I just thought, you know, that you wouldn’t be here... I swear I don’t just randomly barge into people’s rooms! Hyunjin just left his lab notebook, and he needed someone to get it for him, so... here I am,” you ramble.

“Of course he would forget to mention that his roommate would be here,” you mutter to yourself.

“Huh?” He asks, confused, and you perk up.

“I was just saying that again, I’m really sorry for barging in on you like this.”

You pause.

“Oh, and, um, for accusing you of being a thief...”

“It’s alright?” He says awkwardly, unsure how to proceed. “I mean, it’s not the first time someone has come in randomly, so I guess... Don’t worry about it.”

You nod and another moment passes. The discomfort is palpable.

“So...”

“So!” You repeat, wincing as your voice comes out a little too loud.

You aren’t sure what to do in this painfully uncomfortable situation.

“Um,” your gaze flits around the room as you search for something—anything to say and break the tense silence. When your eyes land on his desk, you light up.

“Oh, are you into music production?” You ask, genuinely curious as you take notice of the mic and synthesizer he has set up and plugged into his laptop.

“Huh?” Jisung splutters for a moment, his eyes wide as his composure slips. “W-What would give you that idea?” 

His eyes flit nervously around.

“D-Did Hyunjin say something to you? Because, I mean, wh-whatever he said, it was just a joke!”

You give him a weird look and he flushes to his ears.

“Um, no, Hyunjin didn’t say anything.” An awkward pause.

“I just was asking because of all... that.” You motion at his desk.

“O-oh,” Jisung winces. 

“W-Well, the thing is...” he stutters, grasping for words that don’t seem to be there. “It just an, um—“

You don’t give him the opportunity to explain.

“No, it’s okay!” You exclaim hastily. He looks even more flustered than earlier, and you can’t help but feel bad. This—whatever it must be—seems to be a touchy subject.

“I didn’t mean to pry!” You say quickly. “Hyunjin keeps telling me I have a problem with running my mouth and butting my head into other people’s business, so really, you don’t have to explain! Just... Forget I said anything, actually!”

You walk as you talk, blabbering as your head towards Hyunjin’s mess of a desk. His blue lab notebook is glaring at you from on top of a stack of miscellaneous assignments, and you waste no time as you snatch it up.

Jisung just watches you wordlessly, absolutely dumbfounded.

“Um,” you hesitate for a moment as you turn around to face him. “Well, again, sorry for... literally everything that just happened. I’ll—I think it would be good if I left now...”

It’s so awkward that you half-wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole, and your only consolation is that it seems Jisung feels the same way too.

You grab the doorknob and twist, speed walking out of the room and down the hallway without another word.

It’s only once you’ve rounded the corner that you pause, barely refraining from banging your head on the wall in frustration. That was a fucking disaster.

Oh, you are definitely kicking Hyunjin’s ass for this later.

With a deep breath, you make it to the stairwell and take the steps two by two until you reach the ground floor. You’re only slightly winded as you pull out your phone to check the time. There are still thirteen minutes until Hyunjin’s lab begins, and yet you’re not surprised to see eight unread text messages from him.

[7:40pm] hyunjin: it’s the blue one!!! pls get the right one omg

[7:41pm] hyunjin: y/n are u getting it [7:41pm] hyunjin: my dorm is unlocked u know that right

[7:43pm] hyunjin: y/n [7:43pm] hyunjin: y/n why aren’t u reading my msgs

[7:45pm] hyunjin: y/n!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[7:46pm] hyunjin: o yeah i forgot to mention.... jisung might be in the room

[7:46pm] hyunjin: oops

You quickly type out a message

[7:47pm] you: yeah thanks for the heads up 😐 [7:47pm] you: i’ll be there soon now stop bothering me

Four minutes and a very furious scooter ride across campus later, you are met with a very frantic Hyunjin outside the life sciences building, who tackles you the second you prop the kickstand of the scooter and step off of it.

“Y/N!” He throws his arms around you and squeezes you so tightly that you choke. “Oh my god, thank you. Have I mentioned I love you? Because I do. I love you so much!”

“Yeah,” you flip your hair over your shoulder as you hand him his notebook. “I know.”

“You literally have saved my life tonight,” Hyunjin’s eyes sparkle with tears and you roll your eyes. Why is he so overdramatic?

“It’s what I do,” you shrug in response. “You owe me dinner though. Friday night, no excuses! I want sushi. That expensive place we always pass on the way to the convenience store.”

“Anything for you,” he says seriously and you grin.

“I met your roommate, by the way,” you tell him.

“You did?” Hyunjin glances up. “And?”

“And?” You parrot, glaring at him. “And I’m going to kill you! I can’t believe you never told me he was hot, and now I’m pretty sure he hates me!”

“What did you do to him?” He asks wearily.

“Nothing!” You exclaim quickly. “I swear. I mean, I might have accused him of trying to steal from you, and also maybe, um, embarrassed him when I asked about his whole music set up, but...”

“He told you about 3racha?” Hyunjin gapes.

“No.”

A moment passes.

“Wait, 3racha?” You backtrack, baffled. “You mean, the rappers that you’re always playing that are, like, internet famous? That is what your roommate does? I thought he was just an audio engineering major like Chan!”

You watch as an expression that clearly reads oh shit passes over Hyunjin’s face before he tries to hide it and fake confusion.

“What? Noooo...” He says nervously. “W-What are you talking about?”

“No wonder he was super weird when I asked about it. But 3racha’s stuff is like, really good.”

A moment passes. “Does this mean your roommate is famous?”

“W-What?” He stutters. You glare at him, and a moment later, he lets out a heavy sigh.

“...Yeah.”

“Does this mean you’re friends with the rest of 3racha, too?” You ask.

“Well...” He says slowly. His eyes are too guilty, so you know it must be true.

Then, you gasp and your knees start wobbling as something clicks in your head. 

“Chan?!”

He breaks.

“Okay, yeah, Chan, and Changbin too.”

This time your knees really do almost give out.

“Seo Changbin?” You choke. “And he enver told me?”

“Yeah, well, you can’t tell anyone,” Hyunjin grumbles. “Technically, I’m not even supposed to talk about it. Nobody knows except me, Chan’s roommate, and you know.”

“Nobody?” You gape. “Not even Yuna?”

“Especially not Yuna,” Hyunjin says solemnly. “It’s a really sensitive topic for Jisung... His one condition for joining Chan and Changbin was keeping a low profile, and well... People really eat up the whole secret identity thing.”

“Oh.” A moment passes. “Okay.”

He looks at you expectantly.

“Oh, yeah, I promise I won’t tell anybody. My mouth is shut,” you mime a zipping motion over your lips and Hyunjin lets out a sigh of relief.

“Okay, good.”

He glances down at his watch and lets out a wheeze.

“Oh shit, I have to go!” His eyes widen comically and he doesn’t waste a moment before turning on his heels and running towards the science building.

“Okay, bye sweetie! Have fun in class. I’ll come pick you up after soccer practice!” You call out like the obnoxious friend you are.

Predictably, he flips you off, and you laugh.

A week after that Saturday that you find out that Jisung has a girlfriend finds you finally through with all your exams. You are stuck in the library, struggling through your last essay before you’re finished with this midterm period, and the freedom tastes so sweet that you are having a hard time focusing.

But, somehow, by some magical stroke of luck, you make it through your essay. You’re putting the finishing touches on your argument against big pharma when Hyunjin comes barrelling through the bookshelves, nearly slamming into the table you’re sitting at in his haste to reach you.

Surprised, you look up to find your best friend keeled over at the waist, panting loudly as he tries to catch his breath.

“Hyunjin?” You whisper, confused. He has class right now, and you’re not sure why he’s here in the library instead of in the liberal arts building halfway across campus.

“What are you—”

He takes a deep breath, before screeching out, “you bitch!”

You can’t count how many heads turn at his exclamation and you narrow your eyes and yank him down into the seat next to you before he can say anything else.

“Not that I don’t love to be greeted this way,” you whisper, “but can you keep your voice down? We’re on the quiet floor.”

“Keep my voice down?!” You think you see a vein bulge in his forehead and his eyes almost pop out of his face, but he listens and lowers his voice to a very aggressive whisper-shout.

“Still too loud,” you pinch his ear. He winces but doesn’t say anything but before he can say anything, you pin him with a look that shuts him up immediately.

“Now. Why aren’t you in class?”

“Oh, sorry,” He mutters sarcastically. “I seem to have forgotten about it because of bigger things on my mind. Like, I don’t know, my best friend keeping a secret from me!”

You deadpan. “What are you talking about?”

Hyunjin scoffs.

“What are you talking about?” He mocks, his face twisting up. “Stop acting like you don’t know! You’ve been outed, okay, and I just found out from Changbin.”

“I have no idea what your talking about,” you tell him honestly, then pause.

“Wait... Is this about the time Changbin and I went out for ice cream without you? Because in my defense, you were passed the fuck out on the couch after those six shots and Chan said he would take care of you.”

He gasps, outraged. “You went to get ice cream without me?”

“Maybe don’t black out during the pregame next time,” you shrug.

“We’ll get back to the ice cream thing later,” Hyunjin promises you seriously, “but that is not what I’m talking about.”

“Okay,” you say mildly and he glares at you.

“I mean really,” Hyunjin pouts now. “How are you going to let me find out you have a boyfriend from Changbin, of all people?”

There’s a moment of silence, and then you snort, turning back to your essay.

“Yeah, okay. You had me for a moment there.”

He narrows his eyes and kicks you rather meanly under the table.

“Wait, are you being serious?” You double take, but his eyebrows are drawn together, and there isn’t a hint of humor on his face.

“Y-You think I’m in a relationship?” You ask in disbelief, and he nods resolutely.

“I know you are.”

“And pray tell,” you say, trying to stifle the laugh that bubbles up in the back of your throat. “Who exactly am I dating?”

“Jisung,” Hyunjin says simply, and you swear—your heart stops beating in that moment.

“Who?!” You splutter as blood rushes to your face, and now you are the one loud enough to draw the attention of everyone within a 10 foot radius.

He just scoffs.

“And you really thought the two of you could hide it from me, too. Your best friend. Honestly, the audacity!” he rants, but you’re still unable to contain your shock.

Your mouth opens, then closes, opens, then closes again as you search for words that aren’t there.

“O-okay, you can stop joking around now,” you blubber nervously. “What is this really about?”

Hyunjin just stares at you, unimpressed.

“That’s not going to work on me, Y/N. I can see right through you.”

“T-Then Changbin must be pulling your leg,” you mutter as you start drumming your fingers against the table nervously, “because I am most definitely not dating your roommate.”

You say it, and you know it's the truth—it’s so painfully the truth, but by now your cheeks are flushed and warm, and your eyes are shifty. It doesn’t take a genius to tell that Hyunjin thinks you’re lying to him.

And you aren’t, but he’s so stubborn that you know he won’t believe you no matter what you say.

But—you aren’t dating Han Jisung. You’re pretty sure you would know if you were, and you definitely wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret, much less from your best friend.

“He’s not,” Hyunjin says, exasperated.

“A-And how do you know that?” You ask him.

He raises an eyebrow. “Because Jisung is the one who told Changbin about your relationship.”

“He did what?” You shriek. You’re so loud that you are probably two minutes away from being kicked out, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You feel like you’re in an alternate universe, one where things don’t make sense and everything is opposite of what is should be. You must be, right? Or maybe you’re dreaming. Yes, that would make so much more sense.

“I mean, I don’t care that the two of you are dating,” Hyunjin sniffs, “but you could’ve at least told me. I mean, my best friend and my roommate. Hiding it from me! I can’t believe…”

He keeps rambling on, but the blood rushing through your ears muffles his voice, and you take two fingers and pinch yourself—hard. This fever dream must be because of all the coffee you drank yesterday, you think.

Except when you pinch, you actually feel it.

“What?” You mutter yourself, your heart beating a mile a minute as your brain struggles to comprehend the fact that you are, in fact, awake. Which would mean…

“Hyunjin,” you interrupt him, feeling a little bit crazed. “You’re saying that Jisung told Changbin that his secret girlfriend, the one he’s keeping from all of us, is… me?”

Your best friend scoffs. “Yes, Y/N, obviously. We all know now!”

You look at him, your head swimming with many thoughts (none of which make sense) and he stares right back.

And then—you can’t help it. You burst out laughing.

“Y-Y/N?” Hyunjin asks uncertainly, concerned when your cackling starts to border on maniacal.

Your chest hurts and you reach a hand up to wipe away a tear—it’s just that funny. It’s funny that Hyunjin thinks you’re dating anyone, let alone Han fucking Jisung, the guy you’ve had a big fat crush on for who knows how long. It’s just funny.

It takes a moment for your laughter to subside, but you can’t shake the crazy grin that seems to have taken up residence on your face. You’re more than aware how fucking mental you must look, but—well, you feel like your brain might melt into goo soon, so you can’t really help it.

Hyunjin looks more than a bit frightened, but you pay no mind as you close your laptop (probably a bit more forcefully than you should have) and then shove it into your bag.

“Where Jisung is right now?” You ask him with a sweet smile, but your tone is cutting and sharp, and he shrinks back into his seat a little.

“He’s a-at Banana Tree,” Hyunjin stutters out, mentioning the local café on the outskirts of campus, and you jump up from your seat.

“Great. I’ll see you later.” And before he can process it, you’re gone.

It’s a ten minute walk from the library to Banana Tree, but with the amount of adrenaline rushing through your veins, you manage to make it there in six.

The café is cute and quaint and is like a little slice of heaven for you. It’s been your favorite place on campus since you discovered it your second semester of freshman year, and you can’t count how many times you’ve been since. It’s so adorable and—most importantly—affordable, which is why you’re a bit surprised to find that it isn’t as crowded as it usually is.

On most days, the line is long and winding and it’s more than a little difficult to find a place to sit, but today you find that the line is considerably short and only a few people are scattered throughout the coffee shop.

Usually, you would be ecstatic; the short line means instant gratification for your coffee addiction, but today—you don’t hesitate before breezing past the cashier and heading straight towards the back, where you immediately spot Jisung hunched over his laptop in the corner.

His eyebrows drawn together in concentration beneath his wire-rimmed glasses, and he’s looking good in his hoodie and skinny jeans, but you’re here on a mission and you refuse to let the way your heart skips a beat distract you from it.

“Wha—Oh!” Jisung yelps, looking up and almost falling out of his seat in surprise as you slide into the empty chair opposite of him.

“Y/N! Jesus, you gave me a heart attack,” he breathes out, as he clutches his chest, and you raise an eyebrow.

“You’re still alive,” you say mildly. “I think you’ll be fine,”

“Well,” he clears his throat as he straightens up in his chair. “Yes, but…”

He isn’t sure what it is, but the way you’re eyeing him, like you’re trying to figure out the best way to kill him, makes him nervous.

Which is funny, because in your head, you actually are running through places you could hide his body without being caught…

You know, just in case.

“So…” He says slowly. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing much,” you respond conversationally as you snatch his iced coffee away from him before he can protest and take a nice, long sip.

You watch as the frothy liquid travels up the straw as you try to convince yourself not to stare at him, because you know the longer you look at him, the quicker your anger will escape you.

Even now, looking half-scared and half-confused, he still manages to look good. With those glasses, he’s giving off those “hot TA that you might hook up with at a frat party” kind of vibe, and you know if you stare too long, you’ll forget why you’re here in the first place.

“What’s up with you, boyfriend?”

That one word is almost like an arrow with how sharp you throw it out, and from the way Jisung’s expression slowly melts from one of confusion to one of grim understanding and dread, you can tell that it hits right on the bullseye.

“Look,” he says quickly, his face heating up. “I can explain, I promise!”

“Well,” you drawl. “By all means, go ahead.”

You’re shorter than Jisung, but from the way he seems to shrink under your gaze, you might as well be towering over him.

A moment passes, then another, almost as if he’s trying to figure out how to begin, and then:

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

You wrinkle your nose at the unexpected question.

“Well, actually I’d rather like to forget the whole accusing you of being a thief part, but yes.”

“Yeah, understandable,” he nods. “It was really awkward.”

That is an understatement.

“But I’m not talking about you threatening me with a frying pan,” he continues.

“You said you forgave me for that!” You protest, and he deadpans.

“I lied.”

You open your mouth, not sure whether or not you’re going to insult him or just kick him under the table.

Instead, you opt for saying, “well then, which part are you talking about?”

“The, um, well,” he looks around, suddenly awkward as his voice lowers to a mumble that is so soft you can barely make out what he’s saying.

“What?” You ask, your ears straining.

“Well, you know… When you found out about, um,” he gesticulates randomly in the air, and you squint.

“Jisung, I have absolutely no idea what you’re trying to say,” you tell him exasperatedly. “Can you use your words?”

“3racha!” He finally explodes. “You found out about it when we first met.”

You stare at him, confused. “Okay?”

“And, it’s just that… You know how it’s a secret right? The whole ‘nobody knows who they are’ kind of thing. I mean, now it’s really big all over campus and people like the whole mystery… Say it’s part of the listening experience or whatever… But even from the beginning, I never really wanted people to know it was me,” he rambles on, and it’s like a dam has broken. The words pour out of his mouth and he can’t seem to stop them.

“Which is why it’s kind of ironic that, like, the entire time you’ve known me, you’ve also known my biggest secret. Actually, it’s a bit unnerving, if I’m being honest. I’m surprised Hyunjin managed to not tell you even before you met me, actually but it’s just that—” He takes a deep breath, cutting off his tirade when he notices the glare you have focused on him.

“—Well, what I’m trying to say is, you know, the reason we don’t go public isn’t because we think we’re above it all.”

You stare blankly at him.

“Yeah, I understand that,” you tell him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and he balks at you.

“What I don’t understand,” you continue on, “is what exactly 3racha and your underground rapping career have to do with the fact that our closest friends now seem to think we’re in a relationship.”

“Well,” he begins sheepishly. “It’s actually kind of a funny story.”

You glare at him.

“Okay!” He’s quick to say. “Well, basically, Yuna might have suspected I was hiding something from her, and when she was, like, two seconds away from figuring out about 3racha, it might have just… slipped out?”

Jisung pauses and the air is thick with anticipation, as if he thinks you might smack him right then and there.

“Slipped out,” you echo in disbelief. “That you have a secret girlfriend, and that girlfriend is me?”

“Yes,” his voice is small.

“But… Why me?” You ask after a moment, lost.

“I-I mean, you were the first person to come to mind,” he mutters as his shifty eyes avoid yours. “You know about 3racha, and I panicked, and then I had already said your name and it was too late...”

You narrow your eyes and he lets out a sigh.

“Look,” he begins solemnly. “I know it’s out of the blue, but you know how Yuna is… Well, actually, you know how all of our friends are. They don’t give up easily, and I swear it wasn’t my intention to drag you into this, so I’m really sorry.”

Jisung hesitates.

“And I’m really sorry to have to ask you this, too, but…Would you mind going along with it? Just for a little while! I know it’s a lot to ask, but you would be saving my life.”

He looks you dead in the eye. “Like, literally saving my life. I think Yuna and Felix might murder me if they find out the truth.”

A moment passes, then another as you scramble to find words. You’re not sure what so say, how to respond to… that, and the longer you wait, the more worried he becomes.

“Wait, you don’t have a boyfriend right now, do you?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed.

Your reaction is instantaneous and you scoff a little. “No, I definitely do not.”

Jisung sags in relief, but his eyes stay trained on you, and you can’t help but feel a little nervous. The earnesty of his gaze is piercing, and it makes you flush.

“So, you actually want to do this?” You ask him for confirmation. “Lie to our friends and pretend like we’re dating?”

“Yes?” He winces.

You look at him for a moment, watching as he braces himself as if he’s expecting the worst, but the truth is—you already know your answer. Hell, he could ask you to jump off a cliff and you would probably say yes to that too.

“Okay.”

“Wait—really?” He asks in disbelief, and you nod.

“Yeah, I mean… I wouldn’t want you to have to tell everyone about 3racha because of me, so… I guess there’s not much of a choice, anyways.”

“Oh, thank God,” He blurts out, looking like he’s only seconds away from bowing down to you and kissing your feet. “Thank you so much. I really owe you.”

“I just have one question,” you say after a moment.

“Yeah?” Jisung replies, distracted, as if nothing could bring his mood down.

“Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“What?” He cocks his head to the side.

“I mean,” you say slowly. “Why didn’t you just ask me to pretend to be your girlfriend? I would have said yes.”

“Oh.” He pauses, and a look of realization passing over his face.

“You know… I didn’t even think of that.”

You have to refrain from smacking yourself in the head. Of course you had to go and fall for an idiot.

Of course.

You are spiraling.

“Jisung, I don’t think I can do this.”

You are spiraling, and there is literally nothing anyone can do about it because, oh my god, you are an idiot for agreeing to a plan so idiotic that it has already started to fall apart.

It’s currently two days after you agreed to lie to all of your friends and fake date Jisung, and the two of you have been sitting in the student activity center for the past thirty minutes working through the details of your “relationship,” because like the idiots you are, you both managed to forget you had to figure these things out if you hoped to convince anyone that you are in love.

Great.

Except—when you wake up this morning, the day starts off bad, and only continues to get worse. It’s almost as if Murphy’s law chooses you as it’s sole victim today, because anything that can go wrong is most definitely going wrong right now.

First, you almost sleep through your British literature lecture in the morning when you’re alarm decided to conveniently stop working (and by stop working, you mean completely fall apart, most likely because of the way Hyunjin had thrown it at the wall last Thursday when the two of you decided to unwind with a bottle of wine... Each.)

After stumbling into the giant lecture hall still in your pajamas, you manage to make it to you next class—Stats—on time. Until you realize you somehow managed to forget about the quiz that your TA sent fifty emails out about.

Then, after that ordeal, you show up at the sandwich shop right next to the Maths building in hopes of grabbing a quick bite to eat, only to find the line winding and out the door.

It’s as you are about to scream violently into the void because of how crappy the day has been going that you get a text message from Jisung, who asks if the two of you can meet at the student activity center. With a sigh, you quickly type out a reply before dragging your feet up the hill and towards said building…

…Where you proceed to wait for who knows how long because, in true Jisung fashion, he shows up late to a meeting he himself set up.

And then, after you eat half a bowl of soup, he finally shows up, frantic and apologetic—which leads you to now.

“Y/N?” Jisung asks uncertainly, waving his hand in front of your face.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you actually managed to talk me into this,” you breathe out, rocking back and forth slightly in your chair.

The weight of what you are about to do—lie to your friends, pretend to date the guy you have feelings for, all of the above?—hits you like a freight train.

“Like, seriously?” You turn your frantic gaze to Jisung’s face. “You really want to do this? There is no other excuse we can use? Maybe they’ll believe us if we tell them it was just a joke?”

“Um…” He says meekly, but you are on a rant and you barely even hear him as you continue on.

“I can’t believe that out of all the people in the world, it had to be my name that you thought of first... I mean, I don’t even know if I should be flattered or just angry, because oh my god, Jisung I really can’t do this. Hyunjin is my best friend! How am I supposed to lie to him? I don’t think I can lie to him. Like, physically, I think it’s impossible. And then I’m going to have to lie to Yuna, and Changbin too? I live with Yuna, she’s going to see right through me! Who’s going to believe the two of us are dating? Oh my god, I think I’m going to pass out. Why would you—“

“Okay, Y/N,” Jisung interjects, grabbing you by the shoulders gently. “I’m going to need you to stop for a moment and just breathe. Can you breathe for me?”

You look at him, bewildered, as if you’ve never heard of the concept of breathing. Right now, it actually feels like you haven’t. You’re all hot and panicky, and you’re not sure your lungs are functioning correctly—if they are at all. It’s like all eyes are on you, and if you were a little bit less crazed, you would know that’s not true, but right now—right now, all you can think about is how nice it would be if you just dropped dead right here.

“Breathe,” he nods encouragingly. “Yeah, in and out, can you do it with me?”

A moment passes, but he’s looking at you so expectantly, and even ten seconds away from a panic attack you’re still whipped for him, so hesitantly, you nod in agreement.

“Alright, that’s great,” he beams at you.

“Just in,” he breathes in and you shakily follow suit. “And out.”

You repeat once, and then twice, and by the third time you can feel yourself calming down.

“Oh. Okay, yeah,” you shake your arms out. “It’s all good, right…”

Jisung grins and your heart skips a beat—but this kind of nervousness, well, you’re used to it by now. The familiar butterflies in your stomach are almost grounding, and it only takes a few moments before you’re completely calm.

“So,” you clear your throat, embarrassed. “It’s all fine. Lying to our mutual best friends is fine, right. What were we talking about, anyways?”

“Oh!” Jisung starts. “I think we were on what our first date was.”

“First date?” You wrinkle your nose. “Can’t you decide?”

“Hey, I already decided how I asked you out. Our first date is yours to decide.”

You groan, thinking about how Jisung—after a lot of thinking—had come to the executive decision that he asked you out two months ago, after he ended up taking care of you at some frat party you both went to while Hyunjin was home visiting his parents.

The truth is, that weekend you were abysmally sick and could barely get out of bed, and Jisung was studying for the four midterms he had the following week, so neither of you went to that party—but... Nobody needs to know the truth, right?

“Fine,” you say finally. “We’ll just say our first date was the movies and dinner.”

“No, that’s too boring,” Jisung protests, and you glare at him.

“Excuse me?”

He rolls his eyes. “I would never plan a date as boring as the movies and dinner.

It has to be at least a little realistic, right?”

You glare at him.

“Then, pray tell, what kind of date would you plan?”

“Well,” Jisung begins matter-of-factly. “To start off with, dinner is so overrated. I think a brunch picnic is much more fun, especially because breakfast food is like, ten thousand times better.”

“That’s just because you have an unhealthy obsession with french toast…” You mutter.

“French toast is a superior food group!” He tells you adamantly.

“Not a food group,” you sigh. “But fine. A brunch picnic, is that all?”

“Well, the brunch picnic would be at that park next to the Han river, and while we’re there, we would feed the ducks there because they are so cute,” Jisung continues. “And then, I would take you go karting—but I would let you win, because I’m good first date material.”

“Go karting?” You raise an eyebrow and he sticks his tongue out.

“I mean, you’re so competitive…”

A moment passes as you think about it, and then you nod.

“Okay,” you shrug. “But—let’s get one thing straight. I would win because I’m better, not because you let me.”

Jisung scoffs. “As if.”

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow. “I wonder who it is that can’t even win Mario Kart, then?”

“First of all,” he is quick to protest. “That’s just a video game!”

“Sucks that you can’t win at go kart even digitally,” you respond, disappointed.

“Well—“

“Anyways!” You exclaim, pretending you don’t hear his cries of protests. “We’ve figured out how we met, when and where our first date was, how long we’ve been dating… What about why we’ve been keeping this a secret?”

“Oh,” Jisung pales. “That one is easy.”

You furrow your brow in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Um…” He trails off. “Well, hypothetically… Hyunjin and Changbin might have threatened to, you know, hypothetically kill me if I ever tried to make a move on you?”

You narrow your eyes. “They did what?”

Jisung winces, as if bracing for you to yell at him, but after a moment, you just sigh.

“Whatever…” You mutter under your breath, even as you plot. “I’ll deal with them later…”

He lets out a sigh of relief and visibly relaxes, which only makes you want to smack him because—you can’t be that scary, right?

Instead of asking, you clear your throat. “Anyways, is there anything else?”

“Uh… I don’t think so?” Jisung scratches his head as he thinks.

“Well then,” you say. “We should be fine. I mean, we’ll have to tell our friends soon, but with a few more days to prepare, I think we might be able to pull it off…”

You reach up to gnaw on your nail nervously, and it’s as you’re running through the various ways you might actually be able to convince your best friends that the two of you have been secretly dating, Jisung gets a text message.

“It might be rough,” you mutter once again, although this time it’s more to yourself than to him. “But, well, Hyunjin is kind of unobservant, so with our luck, he might just glaze right over it anyways…”

“U-um… About that,” Jisung starts nervously, and you look up at him.

“Yes?” You ask, taking a long sip from your water bottle.

“Hyunjin just texted me that he’s going to meet us here in, like… 5 minutes?”

You choke on the water, barely stopping yourself from spewing it everywhere—and just like that, your hysteria from earlier comes crashing down on you.

“I’m sorry, what?!” You balk, your fists clenched so tight you can feel the crescent-shaped nail marks forming on your palm.

“Okay, in my defense,” Jisung protests immediately when you threateningly wield your blue mechanical pencil in his direction. “I told him not to come, but he has my location on and he said he’s coming here anyways!”

You inhale sharply, and a moment passes.

“Give me your phone.”

“W-What?” There’s a hint of fear in Jisung’s eyes, but you don’t even care as you try to calm yourself.

“Did I stutter?” You ask, your gaze murderous, and he sinks back into his seat.

“N-Now, Y/N, let’s just think about this logically…”

He looks like he’s going to say more, but you’re already up and out of your seat, reaching over the table you are both sat at for his phone. Jisung, a step ahead of you, snatches it out of your grasp.

“Give me your phone, Jisung,” you say stubbornly.

“If I give it to you, are you going to throw it across the room?” He asks.

“…Maybe.”

He pauses, as if he’s actually thinking about it, before telling you plainly: “Mmm, in that case… No.”

“Jisung,” you whine. “Give it to me! All I want to do is turn off your location sharing, okay? I promise I won’t do anything to your phone… Mostly.”

He opens his mouth, but before he can speak something over your shoulder catches his attention. You’re still halfway out of your seat, pouting at him.

“Y/N—“ He tries to interrupt, but you ignore him and continue on.

“I mean, first you decide to go around and tell all of our friends that the two of us are dating without even consulting me first, and then you let me find out from Hwang Hyunjin of all people, before finally coercing me into a fake rel—mmph!”

Panic flashes across Jisung’s face and his eyes widen as he stares at something directly behind you. And then, before you can process it, he’s grabbing your face with both his hands—his left one on your cheek and his right one awkwardly placed half on your chin, half over your mouth.

Then, he yanks you close to him and plants an over-exaggerated kiss on top of the hand that is covering your lips.

“Oh, hi Hyunjin,” Jisung says loudly when he pulls away. “Didn’t see you there!”

Your face is so red and you’re so surprised that you can’t move, not even when Hyunjin lets out a strangled gagging noise as he comes to a skidding halt next to the table you and Jisung are sitting at.

“Were you guys just—kissing?” Hyunjin asks, his face contorted in disgust.

“What?” Jisung says, almost defensively. “Nooo…”

“—You know what… Nevermind.” Hyunjin shakes his head, as if that might remove the image he just saw.

“I guess you two really are dating…” He mutters to himself, repulsed.

“Anyways,” Jisung clears his throat a moment later as you continue to stare, unblinking and stone faced off into the distance. “Why are you here, Hyunjin?”

“What?” He asks. “I can’t visit my best friend and roommate on this random Wednesday afternoon after they kept their secret relationship from me?”

“Um…” Jisung trails off. “Honestly, I’m not sure how to respond to that.”

Hyunjin huffs. “Well, if you must know, my ecology lecture was cancelled, and I have nothing better to do, so I came here.”

You’re only half listening, and your best friend looks at you weirdly.

“What’s wrong with her?” He asks Jisung, waving his hand in front of your face. “Was kissing you really that emotionally scarring?”

Jisung scowls and kicks Hyunjin under the table, and you still don’t respond.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin calls out. “Y/N?”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, his voice registers, but it’s like your brain has shut down and your synapses have stopped firing, because all you can do is stare.

“Y/N,” your best friend sighs exasperatedly, and then reaches out and smacks you across the face.

“Ouch!” You squeal, effectively knocked out of whatever stupor you had been in.

“What the fuck, Hyunjin? That hurt!”

“That hurt?” He mocks.

“You know what really hurts? My best friends hiding their relationship from me for—“

He stops.

“—Wait, how long have you guys been dating for?”

“Two months,” you grumble.

“Two months?!” Hyunjin shrieks. “You imbeciles hid this from me for two months?”

“Yes,” you glare at him.

“Sorry?” Jisung adds helpfully.

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Hyunjin cries out and you roll your eyes.

“Nobody is paying you for this, dummy.”

He pouts. “Well, someone should.”

“Pay you? For doing nothing? This is exactly why the institution of capitalism is detrimental to the function of society as a whole,” you scoff, and Jisung and Hyunjin look at you weirdly.

“What?” You say defensively. “I’m taking a course on communism versus capitalism, and I have a paper due today.”

“Okay…” The weird look doesn’t leave either of their faces.

“Wait,” you start. “My paper! What time is it?”

“It’s 4:24—“ Hyunjin tells you.

“Fuck!” You exclaim. “I have to turn in my paper to my TA by 4:30!”

You waste no time in grabbing your bag and throwing it over your shoulder, and then getting up and practically running out of the student activity center.

“Good luck!” Jisung calls out, but you’re already gone.

“Do you think she heard me?” He asks Hyunjin.

“No.”

A few days later, you’re walking out of your music appreciation class when you get a frantic text from Jisung.

Technically, you aren’t even meant to be taking music appreciation this semester. But when you were registering for classes last semester, the ethnoarchaeology course you wanted to get into was full, and this was your only other option.

It turned out fine, though, because it’s a blow off class, an easy A that gets your fine arts core credit out of the way, so it’s a win win.

[7:01pm] jisung: HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[7:02pm] you: what’s up?

[7:02pm] jisung: OUR COVER IS ABOUT TO BE BLOWN!!!! [7:02pm] jisung: YOU’RE IN THE MUSIC BUILDING RN RIGHT????

[7:03pm] you: yes??? [7:03pm] you: what do you mean our cover is abt to be blown???

[7:05pm] you: jisung????

[7:05pm] jisung: was doing 3racha stuff [7:05pm] jisung: now yuna is coming to visit cb

[7:06pm] jisung: HELP?!

[7:06pm] you: oh lmao [7:06pm] you: u had me worried.. just hide somewhere until she leaves

[7:07pm] jisung: no y/n [7:07pm] jisung: i told her we were hanging out 2nite [7:07pm] jisung: y/n she has my location on

[7:08pm] you: oh [7:08pm] you: oh fuck [7:08pm] you: where r u??? i’ll come 2 u [7:08pm] you: outside practice room #4

You find yourself breaking out into a brisk jog right when you receive the message, turning down the hallway until you find the stairwell and then taking the steps two by two. Three flights later, you come out on the 2nd floor, and it doesn’t take long for you to spot Jisung pacing nervously in the corridor lined with practice rooms.

“Jisung,” you hiss as you approach, looking both ways down the hall to make sure Yuna isn’t here yet.

“Oh my god, Y/N,” he breathes out in unadulterated relief when he sees you.

“Why did you tell Yuna we were hanging out tonight?” You ask, your eyes narrowed.

He shrugs helplessly. “Changbin, Chan, and I had plans tonight, but she knows Changbin is a part of 3racha, and—I don’t know, I panicked!”

You let out a deep sigh, and then square your shoulders.

“Okay, first of all—we need to have a talk about having your location on for all of our friends, because this really keeps fucking us over,” you tell him sternly.

He nods miserably. “I know.”

“Second of all,” you continue, relaxing slightly. “This actually isn’t that bad… If Yuna asks what you were doing here, you can just tell her you came to pick me up from class. It’s the perfect cover.”

“Really?” He asks dubiously, but you can see the weight ease up on his shoulders slightly.

“Yeah,” you shrug. “It’s believable, and she’ll have no reason to suspect otherwise.”

“Okay…” Jisung relaxes. “So, how was your—mmph!”

And then, before he can finish his thought, you’re yanking him by the wrist and all but shoving him through the first door you find.

Which, of course, with your luck, just so happens to be a broom closet.

“What the fuck?”

“Yuna was coming down the hallway,” you hiss. “Now be quiet!”

“Oh,” he mumbles, and silence falls over the two of you.

You’re hyperaware of how close you are to Jisung—the closet is small and dimly lit, and there’s virtually no where to stand with all the space the mops and buckets, and you’re almost chest to chest. He’s staring awkwardly off into the space behind your left ear, and your furrowing your eyebrows as you strain to hear out in the hallway while simultaneously pretending this isn’t the worst situation. Ever.

As you listen, you hear the clicking of heels grow closer—which you assume is Yuna, if her obsession with strappy heels is anything to go by. The rhythmic clacking becomes louder as she gets closer, and then, it suddenly comes to a stop.

“Yuna,” you hear Changbin’s voice, close to the closet you’re currently hiding in. “What’s up?”

“Changbin!” She exclaims. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

“W-What did I do?” You can hear the fear in his voice, and if you weren’t scared shitless that your roommate might find you and turn that anger onto you, you would probably find it hilarious.

“Chan told me everything,” you can practically hear the way her eyes narrow murderously, and you and Jisung share a mutually horrified look.

Being on Yuna’s bad side is something you never wanted to experience.

“H-He did?”

“Yes, you fool! I know that you were passed out last Saturday after going to that Sigma party when I specifically told you that you couldn’t go because we were having brunch with your mom.”

Jisung lets out a snort, and you elbow him in the ribcage.

“What?” he mutters. “I was there. He downed like eight shots in fifteen minutes and blacked after that.”

“Be quiet,” you glare. “They’ll hear us.”

Changbin and Yuna’s conversation continues on, escalating into what seems to be an argument, but Jisung is grinning, his eyes bright, and it takes your breath away to the point that you can’t even hear what they’re saying above the rush of blood in your ears.

Now you’re the one staring off behind his head awkwardly, your palms sweaty as you try to think about anything except how cute he is and how nervous that makes you.

A moment passes, with Changbin and Yuna still talking outside the closet you’re in, and Jisung clears his throat awkwardly.

“So…” He whispers a second later. “Do you come here often?”

You stare at him full on.

“What the fuck?”

He shrugs. “I’m trying out new pick up lines. What do you think?”

You wrinkle your nose in disgust. “That wasn’t even a pick up line. That was like… I don’t even know, but it definitely wasn’t a pick up line.”

“Really?” He raises a brow. “Then what is?”

You scoff. “As if I’d ever use my lines on you.”

“No, now I’m interested.”

“Well that’s too bad,” you stick out your tongue.

“Please?” He asks, and you open your mouth to say no—until you see his wide puppy dog eyes, pleading with you, and you melt.

“Mmm,” you press your lips into a tight line.

Yuna’s voice rises outside, and you turn away from Jisung as you mumble out, “I dunno, something like... Are you a greenhouse gas? Because you’re hot enough to cause global warming... Or something.”

There’s a moment of silence and you cringe at how embarrassing it is, and then Jisung barely manages to stifle a laugh.

“Maybe I should just stick to being straightforward,” he says, pursing his lips to stop the smile from spreading across his face. “Because it seems you have the witty pick up lines covered.”

“Personally,” You wrinkle your nose. “I think you should stick to saying nothing…”

“What?” He pouts. “The classic ‘let me take you out on a date’ never fails.”

“Mmm,” you grimace. “I give it a 5 out of 10 for getting to the point, but 2 out of 10 for creativity.”

“Wow okay,” he says. “I guess I can’t do anything to impress you, huh?”

“Not really.”

He grins. “What a mean thing to say to your boyfriend.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help the way your jaw drops when he says that. Because—it’s one thing to fake a relationship. It’s another thing to actually hear him call himself your boyfriend.

You cough slightly, barely managing to clear your throat before glaring at him.

“Fake boyfriend.”

Jisung chuckles, and he’s so close to you that if you think about it hard enough, you can convince yourself that you can feel his laugh. His breath is minty and warm, and ghosts across your cheek. You think you might melt into a puddle if you spend another moment in this closet with him.

“What?” He says playfully. “Am I not real boyfriend material?”

You deadpan.

“Jisung, I’ve seen you pick your nose.” You snort. “The day I date you is the day you dye your hair blue.”

“Well, I mean—“ He begins, but it’s at that moment that you realize you can no longer hear Changbin and Yuna arguing on the other side of the door.

“Shh!” You hold your finger up towards him, pressing your ear against the door.

A moment passes, and then another, and you still don’t hear anything.

“I think the coast is clear,” you say hushed to Jisung.

Then, you open the door slightly—only enough for you to see out into the hallway through the sliver of space between the hinges of the door.

The hallway is empty, and with a sigh of relief, you swing the door open all the way.

“Oh thank god,” you exhale, and for the first time in the past 10 minutes, you feel like you can breathe again.

“Well,” Jisung says awkwardly, following you out of the broom closet. “Sorry about this… I really didn’t think Yuna would be coming here tonight.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s no big deal. You’re just lucky I actually decided to go to class today.”

“Well,” he says. “Thanks anyways. Can I treat you to dinner to show my appreciation?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Free food?”

“I mean,” Jisung mutters. “It’ll be cheap food, but yeah. I’ll pay.”

You grin. As a broke and nearly starving college student, the cardinal rule is never turn down free food.

“Lead the way!”

The next night, Jisung finds himself at Chan’s apartment in an attempt to complete the song the 3 of them had been working on the night before.

After spending the past three hours mixing and remixing sounds and still being dissatisfied with the product, Chan had decided they needed a little bit of a break from it all—which leads them to now, sitting in the living room around the dingy coffee table that only has 3 functional legs, eating spicy ramyeon like their lives depend on it.

“So,” Jisung starts in between slurps, chewing obnoxiously as he talks. “What d’you think of the new lyrics? I know the old ones were a bit… eh, but I really feel like these might be the one!”

Naruto is playing in the background, and as Jisung goes to take another bite, Chan and Changbin exchange a look.

“Well…” Chan starts wearily, but Jisung—consumed in his food—doesn’t notice his tone.

“Jisung,” Changbin interrupts, shooting a pointed glare at Chan. “We need to talk.”

“We are talking…?”

“We need to talk… About you and Y/N,” Chan clarifies, and Jisung freezes.

There’s a noodle hanging out of his mouth, which is agape, and ice floods his veins as anxiety washes over him.

Y/N? Why do they need to talk about you?

They stare at him, expressions deadpan, and then it hits him.

Oh god, Changbin and Chan found out that you’re not really dating and you’ve been lying to all of them. The ruse is up, the two of you have been found out.

“W-Well,” He sets his chopsticks down hesitantly, his hands shaking slightly as he goes. “I mean, we don’t n-need to…”

“Um,” Changbin gives him a weird look. “Yeah, I think we do. This is kind of a big deal, Jisung.”

“Mmm, no,” Jisung’s voice pitches upwards and he clears his throat. “It’s nothing! Whatever you’ve heard, it’s not like that!”

Chan furrows his brow.

“No, I’m pretty sure it is like that.”

Dread builds up in the back of Jisung’s throat, and he realizes—his death is close. Because if Chan and Changbin have found out his lie… It’s only a matter of time until Hyunjin discovers the truth, and then the rest of their friends…

…Including Yuna.

The thought is so scary that Jisung has to frantically take a large gulp of water to calm himself down.

“Jisung…?” Changbin questions, concerned as he watches the younger boy down his entire water bottle in ten seconds flat.

“Okay,” he sighs, squaring his shoulders as if he’s preparing to fight someone.

“Look, I know it looks bad, but I have a reason okay!” Jisung blurts out.

Chan clears his throat. “Well, yeah, of course you have a reason… But that doesn’t mean you should have done it anyways…”

He shudders and Changbin nods.

“Yeah, dude,” he says, disappointed. “Like come on. I thought you were better than this.”

Jisung runs a hand through his hair.

“Listen, guys, I’m really sorry! It wasn’t supposed to go down like this, I swear…”

Chan sighs heavily. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you should write love songs.”

“Yuna just cornered me, and—wait, what?!” Jisung cuts off when he realizes what Chan has just said.

Chan winces. “Yeah… your new lyrics aren’t, um, bad, but…”

“Please, no more sappy love songs?” Changbin adds helpfully. “Like, you and Y/N are dating, which is kind of cool… gross, mostly… But please. We have a reputation to uphold.”

“Huh?” Jisung continues to just stare at his friends, openmouthed and confused.

Changbin rolls his eyes. “What will people think if the mysterious and elusive 3racha suddenly start writing love songs?”

“Um—I, um, imagine that… Wouldn’t be cool?”

“Exactly,” Changbin nods. “So, we have an understanding?”

Jisung stares, helplessly. “I guess?”

“Great,” Chan affirms. “Now, about that bridge, I was thinking…”

The next few weeks pass in a weird sort of limbo, where you find yourself spending more time with Jisung than you thought you ever would.

After he treats you to cheap diner food that Thursday you almost get caught by Yuna, you two make it a habit of grabbing dinner together every week after your music appreciation class. Jisung somehow manages to convince Changbin and Chan that spending their Thursday nights in the music building is a good idea just so that your schedules can match, and you think it’s kind of cute that he’s that dedicated to keeping up your fake dating ruse.

Soon after that, you end up seeing him everywhere you go.

Like when he shows up with coffee for you after your Tuesday tutoring sessions in the student activity center, or when he saves a seat for you in the library on Wednesday nights because he knows you have weekly quizzes on Thursday to study for.

You soon find that if you aren’t on campus for classes or back at your apartment, you’re usually at Hyunjin and Jisung’s place. You spend so much time there—which you didn’t think was possible, considering your friendship with Hyunjin—to the point that they end up telling you where they hide the spare key.

You’ve known where it was for the past year (under the doormat, because they aren’t very creative) but you let them think that it’s news to you.

It’s weird, because in the span of a few weeks, Jisung becomes so commonplace in your life that sometimes, even though you don’t mean to, you forget it’s all fake.

Okay, well—obviously the friendship part isn’t, because the two of you have been friends (or, at the very least, friendly) for the better part of two years.

But when Jisung casually slips his hand into yours as the two of you walk down the street together, or when he greets you with a hug that makes you feel so warm inside while your friends are watching, it’s easy to pretend—even if only for a second—that this is for real.

When you let yourself believe that (which, you’re ashamed to say is far more often than you’d like it to be) you’re left feeling even worse afterwards, when you come down from whatever cloud 9 he has pushed you up onto and reality sets in.

When you remember that none of it is real, that you’re just friends and you’re a fool for thinking otherwise, well… Let’s just say, it’s not the nicest feeling.

Which, as one can imagine, leaves you feeling increasingly confused. You spend so much time with Jisung that you never get a reprieve from him, which—a few months ago would have been a dream, but now, it just feels like torture.

You end up spending more and more time obsessing over your complicated feelings for him, and sometimes (most of the time) you just want to scream because of how frustrating it is.

You almost do, actually, when you walk into their apartment after your classes end, and Jisung greets you with a tiny kiss on the cheek—something that he’s done before, usually when your friends are around, but still continues to catch you off guard.

“Hey,” he says easily with a grin, and you kind of want to punch the stupid smile off of his stupid face. “How were your classes today?”

You clear your throat, fighting off the heat rising to your cheeks.

“They were fine… Yours?”

“All good,” he responds before frowning. “Although, Professor Moon was kind of a dick today…”

“Well,” you begin as you set your bag down and flop onto his couch. “You’re only taking his class for credit, right?”

He nods.

“Then you shouldn’t stress yourself out about it like you did last time. He’ll always be a dick, no matter how long you spend worrying about his class.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, melting into the seat next to you. “I guess you’re right.”

You scoff. “Of course I am. I’m always right.”

He raises his arms in mock surrender. “Oh, my bad for forgetting, your Holiness.”

You flip him off and he laughs.

“Anyways…” You continue, your eyes roaming across the living room, which looks different than it usually does today. “What is this all for?”

You motion to where there are streamers hanging across one empty wall, and then to a banner underneath that reads simply ‘HAPP’ in big bubble letters.

“Oh,” Jisung’s eyes land on the decorations, and he shrugs. “We’re kind of having a part tonight. Didn’t I tell you?”

“Um.” You stare. “No?”

“Oops,” he mutters. “Well, we’re having a party?”

“Thanks for the heads up,” you roll your eyes sarcastically, and he grins.

“Well, now that you know… Are you going to come tonight?”

You purse your lips. “When you say party, do you mean like, a party?”

“…Maybe?”

You raise a brow. “And what’s the occasion?”

“Nothing big,” Jisung mumbles. “Just, you know, my birthday…”

You choke.

“Your birthday?!”

He winces. “Yeah.”

“What the fuck, Jisung!” You gasp, punching him in the arm. “It’s your birthday today?”

“Yes?” He says it like a question and you smack him again.

“How did you manage to not tell me that?” You exclaim.

He pouts. “I didn’t think it was important.”

“Jisung,” you deadpan. “We’re literally faking a relationship. Of course it’s important!”

“Oh, yeah,” he says a moment later, as if he’s forgotten completely about it, and you want to give him one of slap, just for good measure.

God, when did you get so violent?

“Well… I’m sorry?”

“You should be,” you gripe at him. “I don’t even have a present for you…”

“Oh, I don’t need any presents,” he says bashfully, and you glare at him.

“Now everyone is going to think I’m a bad girlfriend!”

“No they won’t,” Jisung placates, and you let out a groan.

“Well,” you sigh forlornly. “I guess this means I’ll be here tonight…”

“Yay!” He claps excitedly.

“Yeah, whatever…” You mutter under your breath.

At that moment, Jisung’s phone buzzes, and his smile melts into a frown when he  checks the message.

“What’s up?” You ask, curious.

“Oh, Changbin just messaged saying there’s been a mix up with the drinks for tonight,” he tells you slowly. “He needs my help.”

“Are you going now?”

“Yeah,” he gets up, grabbing his coat from the chair across from you. “I’ll be back in like, 30, okay? Don’t destroy my apartment while I’m gone!”

You scoff. “You’re the messy one.”

“I’ve seen you in the kitchen, Y/N,” he calls out, hopping a little to put his shoes on.

“Okay, first of all—“ You splutter, but he’s already out the door with a wink in your direction, and you’re left alone.

“—Whatever…” you finally mutter to yourself, a pout on your face.

Without hesitation, you kick off the house slippers you are wearing and curl your feet underneath you, grabbing a blanket and the remote to the TV as you settle in on the couch and make yourself more comfortable.

That’s how Hyunjin finds you fifteen minutes later, when he arrives with an unholy amount of party decorations in his grasp.

“Y/N?” He asks, his arms overflowing with plastic bags.

“Hey,” you say distractedly, not bothering to look away from the TV as you greet him.

“O… kay…” He says to himself after a moment, setting the stuff down onto the counter.

“Where did Jisung go?” He asks as he grabs scissors from a drawer and begins cutting open the bags of decorations.

“He said something about Changbin… drinks… I’m not really sure, actually,” you reply back.

Hyunjin sighs. “That’s so helpful. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” you snark back.

“So…” He trails off. “Are you going to help me set up, then?”

You roll your eyes. “Do I look like I want to help you set up?”

Hyunjin glares at you.

“You look like someone I’m about to kick out of my apartment.”

With a loud, overdramatic sigh, you pause the show you are watching and then haul yourself up off of the couch so you can join Hyunjin in the kitchen.

“Well… I guess I can help,” you say begrudgingly.

“Thanks,” Hyunjin says blandly. “You can start by finishing the sign.”

He motions to the ‘HAPP’ hanging sadly on the wall, and you snort.

“What, you’re telling me it isn’t supposed to look like that?”

Hyunjin looks like he’s about to smack you, but instead says, “Y/N, can you just do it?”

“Yeah, whatever…” You snatch up the bag of bubble letters and grab a roll of tape before heading to the living room.

It isn’t too difficult to finish the sign, and you’re finishing sticking up the last two letters when Hyunjin joins you with—surprise!—even more streamers.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin says slowly as you finish the sign and step back to admire your handiwork.

“Yes?” You ask, grinning at your best friend.

“…Why does that sign say ‘Happy Birthday Bitch!’?”

You bat your eyelashes innocently.

“What?” You ask. “Am I wrong?”

He sighs. “No… But it’s Jisung birthday. Don’t you think we should be a little nice to him today?”

You pout. “Well…”

He glares at you.

“Fine, whatever! I’ll change it… You’re lame anyways…”

It takes you another ten minutes to take down the sign and replace it with the much more appropriate, and much less fun ‘Happy Birthday Jisung!’ but you do it, and right as you move on to helping Hyunjin hang streamers—because God forbid there be anything less than the hundreds of them already lining the walls—Jisung arrives back, with Changbin and Felix in tow.

Changbin and Jisung are both carrying cases of beer in their hands, and Felix follows with a large tote bag that you assume is full of various bottles of hard liquor, although you can’t see inside the bag because of how big it is.

“Hey, Y/N,” Changbin smiles at you as he passes, and Felix perks up when he notices you.

“Y/N!” He exclaims. “Do you—“

You cut him off before he can finish.

“—And that is my cue to leave.”

Felix scowls. “You don’t even know what I was going to say…”

“You were going to ask me to help you with something,” you scoff. “I’ve already reached my manual labor limit for the day, but nice try.”

The blond boy sulks his way into the kitchen, just as Jisung comes out after setting down the boxes he had been carrying.

“You’re going already?” Jisung pouts.

You pat him on the cheek sweetly.

“I mean… yeah,” you tell him.

“What, do you expect me to stay for a party dressed like this?”

You motion down to your expertly coordinated ensemble of sweats and a ratty t-shirt that you think might be Hyunjin’s.

“Well,” Jisung says reluctantly. “I mean, I think it’s cute, but…”

“Don’t you dare lie to me,” you threaten as you dig an elbow into his side. “Anyways, I’ll be back by 9, okay?”

“Okay…” He mutters sadly.

“Finally,” Hyunjin says at the same time. “She’s leaving!”

You stick your middle finger up in his direction as you grab your bag and shove your feet back into your shoes.

“Bye, bitches!”

And then you’re out the door.

Your apartment isn’t far from theirs—just around the block, and it only takes a few minutes before you’re climbing the stairs up to the 4th floor, where you live.

When you unlock the door, you’re greeted by a dark room, and you’re a little surprised to find that Yuna isn’t home right now.

You flick the light switch on and kick off your shoes, walking into the kitchen to find a post it note stuck to the fridge.

Out buying Jisung a present, it reads. See u tonight! xoxo Yuna

You crumble the note in your palm before dunking it into the trash, NBA style, and you scowl when you miss.

Yuna’s note reminds you again that Jisung didn’t give you any notice about his birthday, and you can’t help the annoyance that rises inside of you—especially because you didn’t have the chance to do the bare minimum and scrape together a present for him.

With a sigh, you drop your school bag on the floor of your room as you head towards your closet, rummaging through your clothes as yo search for something appropriate.

You’re looking for an outfit that says “it’s my (fake) boyfriend’s birthday today and he totally did not just tell me about it 3 hours ago!”

It’s uncertain whether the cropped top and black jeans combo that you finally settle on gives off that vibe, but you think it looks decent (at least, better than your sweatpants…) and so you go with it.

You spend the next hour and a half around the apartment, cleaning up and taking care of small tasks here and there as you try not to think about the party tonight.

There’s a sort of anxiety weighing down on you about it—you’re not sure why, either. You’ve never really had a problem with partying and letting loose before, but you have a sneaking suspicion that the weight in your gut has something to do with Jisung.

It’s as you finish sweeping the living room that you come to the startling realization that its now nearly 9, and you lost track of time as you were cleaning.

You haven’t even started your makeup—because you didn’t want to sweat it off while stress cleaning—and you practically trip over yourself in your haste to get to your room. In a panic, you quickly swipe some concealer and mascara on, before finishing with a little lip gloss, and although it is the simplest makeup routine you could have come up with, it’s already past 9 when you stumble out of your room, hopping a little as you try to shove your sneakers on.

You take a deep breath as you shove your keys in your pocket, and then—just for good measure—you open a kitchen cabinet and pour yourself a shot of vodka from Yuna’s not-so-secret stash.

You down it quickly and it burns your throat, leaving an acrid taste in your mouth and a weird warm sensation in your chest and your head—most likely because you overestimated the amount when you poured it out, courtesy of the Disney mug you’re using as a shot glass.

Go figure.

You find yourself gripping your keys and pepper spray tightly as you make the short trek to Jisung and Hyunjin’s apartment, and by the time you end up outside their door, it’s well past 9:30pm.

The pounding bass of whatever music is playing inside thrums out into the hallway, and you’re not sure if knocking is the right way to go—frankly, you’re not sure they’ll even hear you if you do.

Not even a moment later, the door swings wide open as a drunk couple comes stumbling out, so entangled in each other that they barely notice you or the door that they leave open behind them.

“O…kay…” You mutter. “Kind of early for that, but…”

Shaking your head, you walk in to find the festivities in full swing. It catches you momentarily off guard just how many people have managed to fit inside the small apartment, and the disco strobe lights are disorienting as you search around for a familiar face.

I mean, you knew it was a party, but honestly, you don’t even know half the people here.

Finally, after what feels like forever, your eyes land on Jisung, and you’re so relieved that you sigh.

And then, you notice the giant grin on his face, and the very attractive girl he’s talking to. You watch as he says something, gesticulating with his hands as his eyebrows raise, and your mood sours instantly. The girl lets out a giggle, smacking his arm lightly before tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear flirtatiously, and your eyes narrow.

Something ugly twists in your gut, particularly when you notice just how close they are standing, and your teeth clench.

You know you have no right to feel jealous—you aren’t actually dating Jisung, after all—and yet the ugly pit of emotionsin the depths of your stomach that blazes despite the fact.

A boy with dark hair walks by you at that moment, obscuring your vision—he’s friends with Hyunjin, you think, his name might be Jeongin?—and you zero in on the solo cup in his hand, filled halfway with a dark liquid.

“hey,” you clear your throat, catching him before he manages to walk away. “Where did you get that?”

“Hmm?” He says, his gaze slightly unfocused and a lopsided grin on his face. “Oh, drinks are in the kitchen.”

“Thanks…” You mutter out, barely waiting for a reply before you are stalking off in that direction.

You waste no time in grabbing a cup from the stack next to the drink station that has been set up, most likely by Changbin based on the color coding. The first bottle you see is a giant thing of rum, and you don’t even hesitate before pouring a generous amount into your cup and then topping it off with some Coke.

You take a large swig, still a little astounding by the amount of people here that you don’t know.

Honestly though, you are content hovering in the kitchen and avoiding human interaction for the rest of the night—until you spot Felix a few feet away, heading towards you.

Your eyes widen, and without a second thought, you’re ducking out of the kitchen and back into the crowded living room, pushing through sweaty bodies to get away from him.

The thing is—you don’t have a problem with Felix. Really, you don’t. In fact, he can be kind of funny to be around, most of the time. Except for when he’s drunk—he goes absolutely nuts when intoxicated, and you do not want to be the one taking care of that tonight.

The last time you did… Well, let’s just say you’ll never look at limes or white bedsheets the same again.

Unfortunately for you, it seems you can only avoid one person at a time tonight, because when you finally manage to shake Felix off of your tail by hiding in a back corner where you’re obscured from the view of most people, you find yourself with the perfect view of Jisung.

You find that he’s now surrounded by a gaggle of girls and a couple of guys, and he seems to be telling a very animated story based on his facial expressions.

He looks good tonight, you realize—with his hair slicked back like that, and those dumb black vinyl pants you bought him as a joke because they make his ass look fantastic.

You never thought he would wear them out in public, because he was so embarrassed when you made him try them on, but now—well, you definitely regret that purchase.

It’s almost depressing, watching him from across the room like a lovestruck girl, when it seems just about every other girl in the room is ten times more attractive than you and checking him out too.

It’s unfair, because—really? Jisung, the dork who can barely look a girl in the eye without saying something stupid is the center of attention at this party? You think he must be at least a little tipsy, from the way he seems to actually be able to hold a normal conversation with those girls, and you’re kind of mad that it’s not you over there flirting with him.

Which is stupid. You’re his girlfriend after all—well, fake girlfriend. Whatever, same thing. You’re not sure why you are over here, pouting in the corner, instead of over there by his side. In fact, you’re not even sure why you didn’t just go up to him when you first got here, like a normal person.

Because no, of course you had to be weird and overthink things way more than you should.

“He’s hot,” a voice interrupts your trail of thoughts, and your gaze snaps from Jisung to your right, where you find an attractive guy standing and observing.

“Why don’t you go talk to him?”

He looks vaguely familiar, and it’s only after a few more seconds of staring that you realize who he is—Minho, the guy that Jisung occasionally cat sits for.

“I’m—huh?” You splutter, coughing slightly.

He leans against the wall casually, a smirk dancing across his lips, and he nods towards Jisung.

“Well, I just don’t understand why you’re moping here in the corner instead of just going over there. He won’t bite… Probably.”

“I-I’m not moping!” You protest.

“A-And besides,” you continue, your voice still lacking conviction. “He’s actually—well, you know—we’re… dating.”

Minho raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip from his cup.

“So you’re Y/N?”

“…Yes?” You say back hesitantly.

“You don’t sound very sure about that.”

“W-Well, I am!” You say indignantly.

He tsks you. “Okay… Well, all I’m saying is, that is not the face of someone dating the man of their dreams.”

You turn to look at Jisung, for only a second.

“How… How do you know he’s the man of my dreams?”

He scoffs. “Honey, he’s the man of everyone’s dreams.”

You tilt your head to the side, thinking about it.

“Okay, fair.” You admit.

He grins wickedly, before extending his hand.

“I’m Minho,” he introduces himself finally.

“I know,” you reply back, taking a sip of your now almost empty drink instead of shaking his hand.

He retracts it back with a smirk, not even slightly offended.

Your still watching Jisung intently, and it’s only when one of the girls he’s talking to wraps her hand around his arm and pulls him closer to her that it gets too much for you.

Abruptly, you turn to Minho.

“You want to do shots with me?” You ask, suddenly.

“Shots?” Minho perks up, interest piqued. “Hell yeah.”

“Great.” You down the remaining contents of your cup before setting it down on a side table. Then, you grab him by his wrist and all but drag him with you to the kitchen.

You waste no time in setting up tiny red plastic cups the size of shot glasses—2 for Minho, and 2 for you—and then you’re grabbing the tequila and pouring it into them.

“Tequila?” he asks, surprised. “So you really want to feel something, huh?”

You glare at him. “Shut up and drink.”

He grins at you but complies, and the two of you throw back the shots together.

“Oh, that is absolutely foul,” you say, barely able to stop yourself from gagging. Belatedly, you grab a quarter of a lime and suck on it.

“Want to do more?”

“You’re kind of crazy,” Minho winces as he swallows. “…I like it.”

You shrug, already feeling tipsy, and you waste no time in refilling the cups.

You lose count of how many shots the two of you have taken—five? maybe six?—but it doesn’t matter, because after the 3rd one, your head is already fuzzy and any thoughts of Jisung have successfully been pushed to the back of your mind.

The two of you have been arguing about various things (most of which you forget by the time you move on to the next topic), and you find that you are actually enjoying yourself.

And then, whoever is in charge of the music decides to change things up, and suddenly 3racha is blaring through the apartment and you find yourself thinking about Jisung once again.

You frown, taking a sip from a cup—just Sprite, now, because Minho decided to cut you off a few minutes ago while you could still speak in full sentences.

“Do you like 3racha?” You yell at him over the music, and he nods eagerly.

“Oh, definitely! Their stuff is really good, and it’s so cool that they go to school with us!”

Minho takes a swig from his cup, which likewise, is Sprite.

“Okay, I have a question,” you shout into his ear to be heard over all the noise. “This could make or break our friendship, so you better answer correctly!”

Minho nods solemnly.

“Who’s your favorite?”

“From 3racha?” Minho asks, pondering.

You nod, and his brow furrows as he thinks.

“Hmm… I think they’re all great, but I would probably have to go with CB97.”

“CB97?” You exclaim, aghast.

“I’m sorry, I think…” You say slowly. “I think this is the end of our friendship.”

“What?” Minho pouts. “No! Who’s your favorite, then?”

“Uh, J.One, of course,” you say it like it’s obvious. “That’s the only correct answer.”

He shrugs. “I mean, yeah J.One is pretty cool, but CB97 is just unbeatable.”

You scoff.

“Sure, CB97 is fine, but J.One is obviously the best!”

The two of you continue to bicker back and forth—you’re so heated, you aren’t even sure how long the two of you have been arguing.

And that’s how Jisung finds you: drunk and angry and defending his honor.

“J.One carries the group!” You shout as he enters the kitchen. “I think you should get your hearing re-evaluated. You might be in danger of going deaf.”

Minho opens his mouth, his response ready, but before he can bite back, Jisung has already interrupted.

“Y/N!” He exclaims, barely able to hold back his laugh as he sees you, red in the face with your brow drawn taut as you glare at Minho.

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

At the sound of his voice, you come up short, and a confused look comes over your face as you turn to look at him.

“Jisung?” You ask, bewildered.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he grins. “How much have you had to drink? And how long have you been here?”

“I had 5… 5 shots?” You tell him, holding up 8 fingers, and he narrows his eyes. “And also some rum and coke!”

You pick up your cup of Sprite to take a sip, but Jisung takes it from you gently.

“I don’t think you should drink anymore,” he tells you. “Otherwise, you’ll wake up with a killer hangover tomorrow.”

“Huh?” You say, staring at the cup. “Oh! It’s just Sprite.”

Jisung takes a sniff to confirm, before handing it back to you, embarrassed.

“Oh, sorry…” He mutters.

“It’s okay!” You grin cheesily. “Minho told me I should stop drinking, too…”

You point to where Minho is standing, and he gives Jisung a little wave.

“Did you know tequila is kind of gross?” You whisper, leaning in close to his ear.

“Yeah,” he tells you with a laugh.

“Now,” you declare. “Can you please settle this and tell Minho that J.One is obviously the best in 3racha?”

He raises an eyebrow, amused.

“You think J.One is the best?”

You frown. “Yeah, obviously. I have to stay loyal, after all. I can’t just change my mind mid argument, can I?”

Jisung lets out a laugh, and Minho’s eyes flit between the two of you.

“Well—I’m just going to get something else to drink from, um, over there,” he motions vaguely off to the right, before giving you a long meaningful look that you don’t quite understand.

“See you later!” And then he’s gone, leaving the two of you in the kitchen alone.

“So I’m guessing you’ve been here for a while,” Jisung says a second later, and your gaze snaps to his face.

“Hmm?” You hum distractedly. “Oh. Yeah, probably? I think so…”

“Why didn’t you come find me?” He says, his brow furrowed as he looks you in the eye.

The music is thrumming, the lights are dim, and all you can think about is how hot you feel. Why is it so hot in here?

“What?” You ask, still a little disoriented.

Jisung runs a hand through his hair, and you find yourself staring at him. The top to buttons of his shirt are undone, and you can see his collarbones peeking out as he pushes his hair back. You find yourself mesmerized.

“I-I mean,” Jisung says, a blush rising to his cheeks. “I was waiting for you…”

You’re so blatantly checking him out that you don’t notice how embarrassed he looks at the confession, and you barely manage to catch what he says.

“Oh,” you murmur, your eyes now focused on his hand. “Well, I mean, you looked busy when I got here and I didn’t want to be a bother.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, confused.

You stare, thinking it’s obvious enough.

“Well, first it was that really tall girl, with the highlights,” you begin listing, counting on your fingers as you go. “Then it was that guy in the muscle tee… And then it was the other girl, in your econ class. I just didn’t want to interrupt…”

“You wouldn’t have been interrupting,” Jisung mutters. “I mean, you’re my girlfriend.”

“Fake girlfriend,” you chime helpfully.

His expression falls, almost imperceptibly.

“Right. Of course…”

You’re oblivious to it all, too intoxicated to notice the slight shift in his mood.

“So, how has your party been so far, birthday boy?” You grin, nudging him slightly with your shoulder.

“It’s been nice,” He responds distractedly.

“Did Hyunjin make you do shots with him?” You ask curiously. “He was, like, really excited about making you do that.”

Jisung wrinkles his nose.

“Ugh, yeah,” he groans. “That was not fun. My liver is going to be gone before I even graduate.”

“Boo, don’t be such a wimp!” You exclaim. “Shots are fun.”

Jisung opens his mouth, about to bite back a response, but before he can—someone comes barreling in your direction, tackling him in a hug that leaves him stumbling a few steps back.

“Jisung!” It takes him a moment to realize the person who’s hugging the life out of him is Yuna.

“Yuna,” he chokes out, startled with his hands hanging by his side awkwardly.

“So?” She says, grinning as she pulls back. “How’s your day been? Excited to finally turn five?”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “If I’m five, that must mean you’re four, huh?”

“Touché.” She throws back. “But seriously, happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” he says back, almost shyly.

“Yuna!” You exclaim belatedly, finally realizing who she is.

She turns to look at you, and Jisung swears her eyes light up as she launches herself at you.

“Y/N! I’ve been looking for you! I missed you,” she says as she wraps her arms lovingly around you—very unlike the anaconda chokehold she had held Jisung in only a few moments before.

“I missed you too,” you pout as you return the hug.

Jisung’s face scrunches up in confusion.

“Don’t you guys live together?”

Yuna waves him off. “Yeah. Your point is?”

“…Nevermind,” he mutters wisely after a few moments.

“So,” Yuna says, raising an eyebrow. “how have the two of you been?”

“Good!” You say cheerfully, your voice pitching up a little bit higher than you mean for it to.

Yuna’s gaze is one that can kill, and the way she’s looking at the two of you—a mischievous smirk on her face… It makes Jisung uncomfortable.

“Y-Yeah,” Jisung stutters, his hand finding yours and gripping it tightly. “You know… Doing couples stuff, being a couple… All of that.”

Your roommate raises an eyebrow, amused.

“Really?”

“Oh, definitely,” you nod seriously, and she lets out a short laugh.

“You two really are perfect for each other,” Yuna says, shaking her head. “I just can’t believe it took you both this long to realize it.”

You frown at the implication of her words, focusing so hard on the part where she says the two of you are perfect for each other, that you miss the way Jisung clears his throat awkwardly and stares daggers at Yuna.

“I guess…” you say slowly, your brows knit together.

“Well!” Yuna exclaims, clasping her hands together. “I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, but there’s a dance floor that is calling my name. Hyunjin bet me that I couldn’t out dance him, and you know I never back down. I’ll see you guys later!”

She waves as she goes, and the two of you watch even as she disappears into the crowd.

“So…” Jisung begins jokingly a few moments later.

“I guess we’re just perfect for each other, huh?”

You’re drunk enough that you can’t tell whether he meant for his words to come out sounding so bitter, and if you had been more sober, you probably would have questioned it.

But you’re not, and so your mind passes over it onto the next thought: namely, the one that has been running through your mind the entire night—how attractive Jisung looks right now.

You don’t know why, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop yourself from staring. Granted, you aren’t really trying all that hard.

And, if you’re being honest, it’s his fault for looking so good…

“Y/N?” Jisung waves his hand in front of your face when you don’t answer.

And then, against your will, your mind flashes to all the pretty girls he was talking to tonight—first, the one he was talking to when you walked in at the beginning, who he was grinning at like she was the funniest girl in the world. And then, later, when he was surrounded by a whole harem of them, all flirting with him.

At those thoughts, something ugly rears its head inside your heart. You didn’t really think you were the type to get jealous before tonight. Frankly, you don’t even have a reason to be jealous.

He’s not actually your boyfriend, what right do you have to care about who he talks to and flirts with?

“Are you okay?” Jisung asks, concerned as you stare off into space.

And then another thought occurs to you—why is he so dense? For two years, you’ve had the biggest crush on him, and not once has Jisung noticed. You’ve been pining after him hopelessly, and when he finally makes a romantic advance—it’s to fake a relationship for his convenience?

“Y/N?” He repeats your name once more, and this time, your gaze snaps to his face.

You’re not sure what it is that spurs you into action. Jealousy, exasperation, maybe even just plain anger at him and the circumstances he’s put you in.

Although, if you’re being honest, it’s probably mostly the alcohol that’s rushing through your blood that makes you do it, but before you can second guess yourself, your hands go to cup Jisung’s face, and then you’re yanking him down to your height and pressing your lips firmly against him.

At first, you meant for it to be chaste and short. Just a simple and impulsive peck that is meant for—closure, maybe? You aren’t really sure. It’s not supposed to be anything more than a small playground peck, mostly because he’s so infuriating and you can’t focus on anything but his lips, and you just need to get it out of your system.

But then, you’re close enough to feel his breath, hot and light against your lips. He smells like cotton and lemon with a hint of vodka, and his eyes—when you look into them, they are dark and confused and even a little concerned too, and before you know it, you’re throwing all caution to the wind and kissing him.

You’re really, truly kissing him, the way you’ve dreamt of so many times.

It’s frenzied and sloppy, and really not that great because you are both too drunk to focus on accuracy, but your hands snake around the nape of his neck and you find yourself lacing your fingers through his hair as your eyes slide shut. You hate yourself a little bit, because you enjoy it so much.

But the worst part of it?

The worst part is that Jisung kisses you back. It takes him a few seconds to react, but then his hands are on your waist, gripping tightly as he pulls you closer and melts into your lips. You don’t even know how long the two of you stand there, completely absorbed in each other.

Even as you break the kiss, your hands stay wrapped around his neck, just as his hands stay firmly on your waist. Your foreheads are pressed together, and there is this dumb little grin stretched across his face.

It takes you both a moment to process. But then, Jisung is whispering to you, almost breathless, “what was that for?”

You look up into his eyes to find them wide and curious, anticipating your response.

It’s then that you realize what you’ve just done.

“Um,” you breathe other a moment later, your voice thick and your head swimming with confusion. “Happy birthday?”

“Thanks,” he grins a little, but then his expression drops when he sees the panic in your eyes.

“Yeah,” you say awkwardly, stepping back from him even as your throat closes up.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, you just kissed him.

“I’m—I have to go pee,” you say dumbly.

“Okay,” Jisung tells you softly.

And then you walk out of the kitchen, to the bathroom—where you pause for a moment, before continuing past it, to the door and out of the apartment.

You don’t stop until you get home.

You spend the next week avoiding Jisung.

It’s not easy, mind you—but you still manage to do it. In between the texts and phone calls from not only him but various members of your friend group, you somehow are able to hide, almost as if you don’t exist at all.

That’s not the hard part though. No, the hard part is avoiding Yuna. You leave for your classes early in the morning and come home late at night in a desperate grab at not running into her. The ‘Do Not Disturb’ setting on your phone is permanently set to on, and you go out of your way to study only in the archaeology library, despite how far away it is from your apartment.

You’re like a ghost in the wind, the way that you make yourself scarce, and the only person you speak to is Hyunjin—mostly because he’s the one person you can’t seem to avoid.

He is your best friend, after all, and when the two of you share almost every class, it makes it impossible to avoid him.

But, to your surprise, you find that he doesn’t press you at all. Over the course of the week, not once does he bring up Jisung or the party on Friday, and you would think that he hasn’t noticed anything out of the blue if it wasn’t for the way he strategically avoids mentioning any of your friends.

You can’t help but love him for it. He doesn’t ask for answers, even once, and you are reminded once again why he’s your best friend.

You are a wreck for so many reasons that you can’t help but wrap your head around, and the only thing that keeps you together is that Hyunjin continues to joke about the stupidest things as if you both don’t know that you are seconds away from falling apart.

But, come Friday, it seems your luck has run out.

When you arrive home in the early evening, you find Yuna sitting in the living room, her arms crossed as if she’s waiting. Well, obviously you know that logically, she’s waiting for you. But hey… It could be something else, right?

Wrong, if the pointed glare she pins you with is anything to go off of.

“Sit,” she says shortly.

Timidly, you listen. Really, all you want to do is run back into your room and lock the door but—well, she’s scary and you think she might bust down your door right off its hinges if you do that.

“S-So…” You stammer awkwardly. “What’s up?”

You wince right as the words leave your mouth. Why are you like this? It’s like recently, you can’t do anything right. With school, with your friends… With Jisung.

She stares at you pointedly.

“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?”

“There’s nothing up with me,” you say, trying to keep your face blank as your head turns downward and you pick at the loose thread hanging from the hem of your shirt.

“Really?” Yuna asks, an eyebrow raised. She doesn’t sound convinced at all, but you pretend you don’t notice.

“Nope,” you respond again. “Why? Is there something wrong?”

“Yeah, actually,” she says calmly. “It’s just that there is this girl I know who seems to be avoiding all her friends and her boyfriend without any explanation, and nobody can figure out what’s wrong.”

“Oh? Well, maybe she’s fine and doesn’t need anyone to worry about her. She could be just a little tired after a long week, don’t you think?”

“Tired doesn’t mean ignoring everyone she knows,” Yuna points out.

You look down, examining your fingernails. They are short, bitten stubs—a product of your recent spike in anxiety. You pick at a hangnail on your thumb before you answer.

“Maybe tired to her means socializing less to conserve energy.”

A moment passes, and you can feel her glare burning into the side of your head, but you don’t look up.

“Y/N.” She says finally, breaking the silence. “Please. Talk to me.”

“I am talking,” you say shortly.

“That’s not what I mean,” Yuna emphasizes firmly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is,” you repeat. “Everything is fine and dandy. I’m doing great. Couldn’t be better, in fact.”

She sighs heavily.

“What happened with you and Jisung?”

You still.

“Jisung?” Your voice wobbles—barely, but you know it’s enough for Yuna to notice. “Why would you think something happened with Jisung?”

“Because he’s been a wreck since his birthday, and you’ve been avoiding everyone, and there is something weird about it all.”

Your breath catches in your throat when she says that. The first thought that pops into your head is, is he okay?

It’s followed quickly by why is he a wreck? and did I fuck up so badly that I broke him?

“Hasn’t he said what’s wrong with him?” You ask, trying to be nonchalant even as you can feel the panic rising in your throat. “Because I think he’s the only one with an issue right now. Not me. Definitely not me.”

“Y/N,” Yuna sighs again. “He’s your boyfriend, and there’s something up with both of you. Did he do something? Please, tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”

Boyfriend. The word echoes in your head, bouncing around until it threatens to engulf you completely. It’s parasitic, the way it burns through you.

A moment passes, and you’re frozen.

Then,

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

Your voice is heartbreakingly soft, and Yuna is surprised to find that when you look up and your eyes finally meet hers, they are glassy with unshed tears.

“What?”

“I said,” you choke out. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

And then you’re crying.

“Oh, Y/N,” Yuna says soothingly, pulling you closer and wrapping her arms around you.

You turn, burying your face into her shoulder as hot, scalding tears run down your face. She runs a hand down your head, smoothing your hair in a calming and repetitive movement, and you let go of the emotions you have been holding back for the past 7 days.

You cry and you cry and you cry until you feel like you have nothing left to give, and then you just let Yuna hold you for a moment.

And then, you pull back after what seems like forever, and tell her about everything.

Okay, so—not everything. You definitely don’t tell her about Jisung and 3racha, but you tell her everything else. How you’ve had a crush on him for forever, and how you both ended up somehow faking a relationship, and how you’re feelings for him only continued to grow throughout it, and then you tell her about the party, and how you kissed him and fucked everything up, because there is no way he feels anything for you—especially because he’s been avoiding you the same way you have been avoiding him.

Yuna listens attentively and doesn’t interrupt once, and when you finish speaking finally, your tears have mostly dried.

“You don’t hate me… Do you?” Your voice is small and vulnerable.

“No,” she says decidedly. “I could never hate you for something like this.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, a watery smile barely present on your face as she hugs you again.

“Do you… Do you think I fucked it all up?”

Yuna shakes her head firmly. “No. I know you didn’t.”

You aren’t too sure if you believe her, but the words are comforting either way.

“You know what?” Yuna says determinedly after a moment. “I think you need something to get your mind off of this all. To clear your head, you know? It’ll make you feel better.”

You look at her skeptically, your eyes already beginning to puff up.

“Yes,” she nods excitedly to herself. “Tomorrow, I’m taking you on a date so you can stop thinking about him!”

“Oh, Yuna, I don’t—“ You sniffle but she cuts you off.

“Nope! I’ve decided already! You’re heartsick, and this is just what the doctor ordered.”

“…Okay?”

“Great!” She grins at you. “Now, why don’t you take a shower and go to sleep? You look like you’re about to pass out any minute.”

“Yeah,” you say faintly as she drags you up from the couch and pushes you in the direction of your bedroom. “Okay.”

After a quick, scalding shower, you lay in bed and fall asleep quickly. You sleep fitfully and contently the entire night through, and when you wake up the next morning, it is to Yuna packing up a wicker basket in the kitchen.

“You’re awake!” She exclaims when she notices you come out of your room.

“Get dressed,” Yuna singsongs, folding a giant gingham sheet. “We’re going on a picnic! I put a lot of effort into this so you better put on something cute or I’ll murder you.”

You find that, against all odds, you somehow feel better than you did last night, even if only marginally.

Crying it out of your system will do that to you, you suppose as you head back into your room to pick out an outfit that will pass Yuna’s inspection.

It doesn’t take long for you to settle in a simple white cotton dress. You tie your hair back with a matching ribbon, and put on a bit of concealer under your eyes to hide any evidence of what happened last night.

When you emerge from your room, you find Yuna waiting eagerly at the door, a giant floppy straw hat on her head.

“Let’s go!” She says excitedly. Despite yourself, you find a small smile creeping onto your face. Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea, after all.

You don’t really know where you are going, because Yuna has planned it all out to the tee, but she chats the whole bus ride there, and for the first time all week, you feel like you can breathe.

30 minutes later, the two of you find yourselves on the banks of the Han river, spreading out a blanket to sit upon.

Then, you’re reaching into the wicker basket Yuna has brought along, pulling out small boxes full of comfort food—rice cakes, fried rice, noodles… Your heart warms as you think of her in the kitchen, cooking all of this food for you.

You really love your friends.

“Rice, japchae, beef…” Yuna mutters to herself, doing a tally of everything that has been laid out.

“Is there nothing else in the basket?” She turns to you, hopeful. You look inside, and then shake your head.

“No, it’s empty.”

“Fuck, I forgot water…”

Then, her eyes light up.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’m just going to the convenience store to get something to drink.”

“Okay,” you nod to her.

And then she’s running off, her hat wobbling in a hilarious way as she goes.

You pull your knees into your chest and observe around you as you wait for her to come back. A small toddler runs past you, with his mother close behind, begging him to slow down. A few feet away, 3 middle school boys are riding their bikes and eating ice pops as they go. An elderly couple are resting on a bench that overlooks the river.

Then, your eyes fall onto the ducks. You light up immediately, searching the wide picnic spread until you find what you were looking for—bread.

You’re overly excited as you grab the bag of bread and practically skip over to the ducks. They watch you curiously as you bend down a few feet away from them. You start to break off small pieces of the bread and throw them down in between you and the ducks, and they happily swarm the food you offer.

You giggle as you watch a mother duck push her chick towards a small piece of bread that you have thrown out. The baby ducks are always the cutest, you can’t help but think.

“They’re adorable, aren’t they?” A familiar voice says from behind you, and you freeze. Your blood turns ice cold, and your head snaps around.

And there he is, in the flesh—Han Jisung, standing awkwardly only a few feet away from you.

You stare. He’s dressed casually, in a loose white shirt and black jeans, and it’s crazy how he looks the same as you’ve always seem him, and yet so different at the same time. His hair is brushed back, and to your surprise—a deep, berry blue, but what shocks you the most is the timid, almost unsure expression on his face.

A moment passes, and then—you’re pushing yourself up and briskly walking past him without a word, trying to get as far away as possible.

“Wait, Y/N—wait!” He calls out, but you ignore him.

“Y/N,” he jogs, and it doesn’t take long before he’s in front of you, effectively cutting off your escape route.

You stop in your tracks, but continue to stare off behind his head, as if you can’t see him at all.

“Can we talk?” He asks.

“We don’t have anything to talk about,” you say stiffly.

“Um, I think we have a lot to talk about,” he disagrees, his brow furrowing.

You think it’s cute—at least, you would, if you were looking at him. But you’re not, and so you don’t.

“Well I don’t have anything to talk to you about,” you say, tone short and sharp.

“That’s fine,” Jisung sighs. “That’s fine, because I can do the talking. But will you listen?”

You stare off in the direction Yuna had run off in, desperately hoping for her to appear. Predictably, she doesn’t, and so instead of answering, you continue to stare pointedly at anything but the boy in front of you.

He takes that as a yes.

“Look,” he looks a little exasperated as he runs a hand through his hair. “I know that we started this whole thing so we could, I dunno, keep up a lie that I got us wrapped up into. And I know you got all freaked out last week when—well, when that thing happened, which is why I’ve been giving you space…”

You still refuse to look at him, but your eyes trail from a giant light pole behind him to where a family of four are sitting under the shade of a giant tree.

“I mean,” Jisung continues on. “I thought space is what you needed, for a bit. But you’re still ignoring me and freaking out, which is why I’m here to tell you that—well, to tell you that I like you.”

He says it so sincerely that it’s enough for you to finally look at him.

“Ha, ha,” you say sarcastically, finally speaking. “That’s funny. Now, are you done? I’m kind of busy right now.”

“What?” His nose scrunches in confusion, and your heart skips a beat, which you promptly ignore.

“No, Y/N. I like you. A lot.”

The familiar feeling of panic starts to well up in your stomach, and your gaze hardens.

“You like me?” You say, your face twisting cruelly as you look at his earnest, pleading eyes.

“Yes,” he says solemnly. “I do. I have for a long time, actually…”

Your throat burns. “Jisung, stop it.”

“Why?” He asks, bewildered.

“Because!” You hiss. “I know you’re doing this for 3racha and to keep it a secret, which is fine, I know you are. It’s what we’ve been doing since the beginning, of course I know you are, but… But you’re being mean right now.”

“How?” His frustration bleeds into his words. “Y/N, I’m telling you that I like you! This has nothing to do with 3racha.”

You scoff.

“You don’t believe me?” Jisung demands. “I’m serious. I’ve already told Yuna everything! I literally have nothing to lose,” he laughs, and it borders on maniacal.

“Except you, of course, because my feelings for you are so real it’s kind of starting to hurt!”

“What did you say?” You whisper faintly.

He sighs. “On Monday, when it became obvious you were avoiding me, I went to Yuna, and—well I told her about 3racha, and what you were doing to help me keep that secret, because I wanted her advice on how to…”

He trails off, suddenly nervous. You stare foggily at him, half unsure if you’re breathing still.

“How to what?” You ask after a moment.

“How to ask you out, for real.”

“You told Yuna?”

He nods. “That’s why I’m here... I asked her to set this up.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he echoes. “Oh.”

A moment passes. You feel warm all over. He told Yuna the truth… Does that mean…? He’s telling the truth?

“So,” you start. “Let me get this straight. You told Yuna the truth about your biggest secret, and… You like me?”

“I do, like you. A lot. A lot a lot.”

His eyes bore into yours.

“Okay,” you say weakly.

“Okay?” He asks. “I was… Kind of hoping for something more than okay.”

Instead of responding to that, you find yourself staring at his hair.

“It’s very blue,” you tell him, reaching out to touch it.

“What?” Jisung says, as if he’s forgotten. “Oh, yeah. It is.”

“You look like a blueberry,” you murmur, still entranced by how soft his hair is. “Why did you dye it?”

A blush rises to his cheeks, and he looks away quickly as he murmurs something inaudibly.

“What? I didn’t hear what you said.”

“Well,” he begins bashfully, his entire face red at this point. “You had said… The day you date me is the day I dye my hair blue, so…”

You retract your hand, your mind going back to that Thursday in the closet, when the two of you had been hiding from Yuna.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” You muse.

He nods.

“So?” You ask, expectantly.

“What?” Jisung is quick to get defensive.

“Aren’t you going to ask me out?”

“B-But,” he begins cluelessly. “You don’t… Like me back, do you?”

It takes a moment to process the words, and your jaw drops open slightly. You don’t know how to react to that—you don’t know what to do, or what to say. A flurry of emotions overcome you, but it’s easiest to pick out anger, and so you do the first thing that comes to mind.

You punch him.

“Ow!” Jisung yelps, pouting as he rubs his shoulder.

“You absolute buffoon!” You explode in anger. “Who initiated that kiss on your birthday? Was it you? No, I don’t think it was. Of course I like you! I’ve liked you since I met you, you fucking idiot! Why would you think I don’t like you? You are quite possibly the stupidest person to exist. It takes a special kind of person to be so oblivious you don't notice someone crushing on you for two years! I was so obvious too!”

He stares at you, flabbergasted.

Now it’s his turn to parrot you. “You like… me?”

You glare at him.

“Ask me,” you demand.

“Do you like me?” He repeats, and your eyes narrow.

“Wrong question,” you grit out.

His eyes widen as his mouth forms a silent ‘o.’’

“Do you…” He begins.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Jisung asks finally, voice soft as he stares at you in wonder.

“Yes, you dummy!” You yell.

You want to smack him for being stupid, but you decide to kiss him instead—and this time, you find it’s everything you remember it to be and so much more.

“For the record,” Jisung says when the two of you break away, a stupid grin on his face as he slips his hand into yours. “I’ve liked you since I met you, too.”

“Really?” You look at him weirdly. “I threatened you with a frying pan.”

“Yeah, you looked kind of crazy,” he nods. “But it was hot, like, in a psycho kind of way.”

A look of disgust passes over your face, and you push him away.

“You’re disturbed,” you tell him. “I don’t think I want to date you anymore.”

“Hey!” He protests. “It hasn’t even been five minutes!”

“I didn’t know you were so weird, though,” you mimic vomiting, but don’t resist when he grabs your hand again.

The two of you head back to the picnic blanket you had been at before, only to find Yuna sitting there with at least ten water bottles surrounding her.

Her eyes flit to your linked hands as the two of you approach.

“So,” she says mischievously. “What did I miss?”

“Jisung,” you sigh. “Just show me the picture. I’ll see it sooner or later!”

He pouts as he holds his phone away from you. “No, I look bad.”

It’s currently a Saturday afternoon, with winter break just around the corner, and you and your friends are hanging out at Jisung and Hyunjin’s apartment.

“Babe,” you soothe him. “I promise, you don’t look bad.”

“Yes I do.”

“Han Jisung, give me the phone.” You frown.

“No,” he says stubbornly, shaking his head, and you grab his ear.

“Ow, ow!” He yelps, but you just twist ruthlessly.

“You’ve seen my ugly baby pictures,” you tell him, “so show me yours.”

“Okay, okay, fine!” He relents, and you let go of his ear, satisfied.

“But… You have to promise not to laugh.”

“I promise,” you say solemnly, and a moment later, he’s handing his phone to you hesitantly.

Excited, you snatch it from his hand, and he buries his face in your shoulder, embarrassed.

You’ve barely even glanced at the photo before you have to resist the urge to snort, but Jisung feels the vibration in your chest, and he lifts his head up to glare at you.

“You promised you wouldn’t laugh!”

“And I didn’t,” you clear your throat, pressing your lips together to suppress the smile from creeping onto your face.

“I told you I look bad, I shouldn’t have even let you see,” he whines and tries to snatch his phone back from you, but you hold it away from him.

“No!” You tell him. “I think it’s… cute.”

“You’re lying,” he accuses, and you can’t resist cupping his cheek with your free hand. He always looks so cute when he pouts.

“Well…” You say slyly. “I’ve always had a think for you in glasses.”

He groans, flopping backwards onto the couch, and you finally let out a laugh.

“It’s not that bad, Jisung, I promise!” You coo. “I think you’re adorable, even as an awkward preteen with a really bad haircut.”

“Don’t talk to me,” he grumbles, his words muffled as a result of being smushed face-first into the couch, and you continue to fawn over him.

Opposite to the two of you, Hyunjin and Yuna watch on in a sort of disgusted fascination, absolutely appalled by the romantic display and yet wholly unable to look away as you give Jisung a smooch on the cheek.

“This is so gross…” Hyunjin whispers to Yuna.

“Maybe it was better when they weren’t dating…” Yuna mutters back.

You’re now scrolling through Jisung’s camera roll as he tries to take his phone back from you, and Hyunjin can’t help but nod in agreement.

“You know… If you think about it, this is all kind of thanks to you,” he says to Yuna, and she snorts.

“Kind of?” She raises an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m definitely taking credit for this.”

“What?”

“You think all of this just happened by chance?” She gestures to you and Jisung. “I mean, I didn’t think Jisung would take it this far, but… Well, let’s just say he’s never been good at hiding things.”

She smirks. “His feelings for Y/N… Or his identity as J.One.”

Hyunjin gapes.

“Jisung has a habit of leaving his SoundCloud logged in when he lends me his laptop,” she explains.

“…Please, remind me to never keep secrets from you,” Hyunjin mutters under his breath, only slightly terrified.

On the couch across from them,  Jisung has finally managed to take his phone back from you. You wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest as you let out a sigh.

Lazily, his arm wraps around you and he pulls you closer, his nose in your hair.

“What?” He mumbles, the words muffled by your head.

“Mm, s’nothing,” you say.

A moment of silence passes, and muted voices from the TV echo. Your face warms, and impulsively, your arms tighten around his torso as if trying to snuggle further into him.

“What is it?” He asks again, his tone playful.

There’s a beat of silence. You turn your face away from his so he can’t see you, and then:

“You’re so skinny.”

“Yeah,” he says sarcastically back. “I know. You’re always calling me a noodle boy, after all.”

You grin.

“Yeah, but you’re my noodle boy,” you say affectionately, and Yuna almost gags.

“Okay,” Hyunjin announces, horrified. “That’s enough PDA for one day!”

You stick out your tongue at him, and Jisung shows him his middle finger.

“You’re just jealous,” you tease.

“It’s okay, Hyunjin,” Jisung says solemnly. “Maybe one day someone will get past your annoying personality and catch feelings for you, too.”

Hyunjin lets out a strangled groan.

“Can we leave? Please?” He begs Yuna.

“Already two steps ahead of you,” she mutters, slinging her bag over her shoulder before waving to you and Jisung.

“Bye!”

And then she’s walking out the door.

“Yuna!” Hyunjin scrambles after her desperately. “Wait for me!”

(in case you were wondering what the picture of jisung looks like: see below)

#skzwritersclub #inkidz #han jisung fluff #han jisung scenarios #han jisung imagine #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz college au #college au #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #fluff #han jisung #stray kids #m:jisung #w:heart drive #g:fluff #g:angst #g:fake dating au #g:idiots to lovers au #jeonginify.txt

[enhypenwriters]

Who are you?

☆Pairing: Sunghoon X Reader

☆Genre: Fluff

☆Warnings: none

☆Word Count: 394

☆Synopsis: Is this really your boyfriend?

•••••••••••••••••

After a long day at work you couldn’t wait to kick your shoes off and relax. Your body shifted as the bus drove along its usual route. You started thinking about your wonderful boyfriend, Sunghoon. He had texted you earlier that day that he had a couple days off, so he would be coming over. You wondered what you guys were gonna do. You absolutely loved Sunghoon but dating an idol could have its difficulties. There were many things you guys couldn’t do that normal couples did because of his career. But that didn’t stop you two. After a little bit the bus was at your stop. You thanked the bus driver and walked to your apartment.

You punch in the numbers in your keypad. You open the door and take your shoes off. You make your way to your bedroom to change into more comfy clothes. You plop down on the couch and sigh. Finally peace and quiet. You were so tired, that you drifted off to sleep without even realizing it.

You wake up to the sounds of your keypad. You stretch your arms and realize it Sunghoon. “Hey Y/N.” You hear him say from the doorway. “Hey, I’m in the living room.” You reply. When Sunghoon comes in, you back in turned because you were putting something away. You turn around, “I miss-…AHHHHH!!” You cover your mouth. Sunghoon stands confused, “What’s wrong?” Your eyes are widened and you’re completely stunned. “Oh my gosh…who are you and what have you done with my Hoonie?” You say. “I’m right here.” He says. Then he remembers he dyed his hair, “Is it the hair?” He says pointing to his head. You smile and decide to tease him a little, “Have you seen him, he’s about this tall, eyes like a dream, smile that melts your heart, hair as dark as the midnight sky?”

Sunghoon smiles when he realizes what you’re doing. “It’s me. Do you like it?” You nod and sit him down. You stand in front of him, “But are you sure you’re my Hoon?” He pouts cutely, “Yesss…” You seat yourself next to him. You stare at him. “What?” Sunghoon asks. “You know I didn’t think you could get even more handsome.” Sunghoon blushes. “But a little warning would have been nice. I mean…I was just visually attacked.” “Stoppp…” He says shyly.

#enhypenwriters #enhypen scenarios #enhypen sunghoon #m:sunghoon #g:fluff #t:drabble

[whattodowithace]

Scary Movie (ACE)

Title: Scary Movie

Paring: A.C.E x reader

Genre: Fluff with hints of Spice

Word count: 886 words

Writer: Whattodowithkpop [Lio]

Summary: What A.C.E would do when they encounter a scary movie.

*****

Donghun- Donghun and I rested on the bed. The tv played a thriller, the sound engulfing the room. Donghun laid on his back, his chest bare as he laid with his shirt off. His skin was warm as I laid on top of his chest, my hand rested on his peck as my head laid against his collarbone to view the tv better. His heartbeat was calm as we watched, but I could feel mine beating out of my chest. My hand rubbed his chest gently, but when a jump scare appeared on screen my menstruations would stop, causing Donghun to let out a deep chuckle.

"You may want to close your eyes, princess." Donghun tells me as his lips rest against the top of my head, his voice a deep whisper.

As his sentence finishes, a scream comes from the tv as the murder appears on the screen. I gasp as I turn my head, my face against Donghun's chest as I breathe heavily from my rapid heart.  Donghun pulls me closer to his body with his arm, his squeeze comforting.

"It's over now." He tells me as I lift my head back up to watch the movie.

Jun- We had built a blanket fort, one that filled the living room, giving us plenty of room to roll around in as we watched the movie. It was my idea to watch the scary movie. Jun protested severely, but when I promised him a pillow fort and lots of kisses to distract him he, reluctantly, agreed. When the music became suspenseful, Jun would scooch over to my side of the fort. He would cuddle me quickly, burying my face into his neck to shield me from the scariness. He wanted to hide himself too, but his care was more concerned for me. I lift my head to look at him, grabbing his face in my hands. I pull his lips to mine, our eyes closing as the music increases in intensity. I could feel Jun's heartbeat through his neck, it pulsing in fear. I keep his lips on mine until the music calms.

"There is no point of even watching the movie." Jun states with fear still in his eyes.

"I promise you wont see anything scary." I tell him with my forehead touching his, leaning back in when the music came back in.

Byeongkwan- It was his idea, mostly because he admitted to wanting me to cower into him. He picked the scariest movie he could think of just to have me on top of him.

When the antagonist appears on the screen, I scream hiding my face in my pillow.

I hear Byeongkwan chuckle. "Baby, you can come over here, I'll protect you."

I contemplate his offer, wanting to stubbornly stay away from him cause I knew that's what he wanted. But my heart was was palpitating  making his offer seem desirable. Suddenly, a screech came from the tv, making Byeongkwan jump. I laugh as I continue to hide my face.

"Baby, let's protect each other." Byeongkwan whines as he crawls over to me.

"I think you're the baby now, baby." I giggle as he lays his head on my lap.

He bites my thigh, making me screech.

"it distracted you from the movie." He winked.

I pull his hair, making him groan out in pain.  

"It distracted you from the movie." I mimic back. Byeongkwan smirks as he lifts up to continue distracting me from the movie.

Seyoon- It wasn't a movie we realized was scary, but as it kept playing the scarier it got. we had started on opposite sides of the couch, but as it progressed I continued to scoot closer to Seyoon, crawling onto his lap.

"We can turn it off, Honeybee." Seyoon whispers as he goes tp grab the remote.

"No." I tell him grabbing his arm, looking up at him. "It's fine."

Suddenly, the tv screen flashes, illuminating the whole room. I gasp and bury my face into Seyoon's neck.  He wraps his arms around me, pulling me fully into his body to where my head could rest in his neck for the remainder of the movie.

Chan- The rest of the boys had been watching the movie when Chan and I returned from our date. We sat down next to Donghun, cuddling into each other. I hear Donghun snigger, making me look at him. His eyes trained on the tv, but his lips were in an amused smile. I shrug it off, going back to Chan. I look over to Jun, seeing his worried expression as he looked at the screen. Fear ran through my body as I worried about what movie was being played.

“What movie is this?” I ask Donghun in a whisper.

Suddenly, a man comes at the screen, making Jun, Chan, Byeongkwan and I let out screams. Chan and I screaming louder, because we didn’t realize we had walked into a scary movie.

“Why didn’t you warn us?” Chan screeches as he covers him and I with a blanket to hide us from the screen.

Donghun bursts into laughter. “You two are peas in a pod.”

“Pods being protection from scary things.” I shoot back quietly as I cuddle further into Chan as the scary movie floods our ears but not our eyes.

MASTERLIST

#m:donghun #m:jun #m:seyoon #m:chan #m:byeongkwan #g:fluff #g:spice #wc:short #a:lio #ace #ace x reader #a.c.e #a.c.e x reader #yuchan x reader #seyoon x reader #byeongkwan x reader #donghun x reader #jun x reader

[kakagaifanfiction]

hell of a shinobi

title: hell of a shinobi 

author: kakashienthusiast

pairing: Kakashi/Gai

word count: 708

rating: teen and up audiences

genre: domestic fluff

warnings: none

status: complete

summary: kakashi thinkin back on being a shitty prodigy kid while gai makes curry.

impressions:

A short story about Kakashi thinking about about moments with Sakumo and Dai, wondering if he lived up to their expectations, and having some banter with Gai over a meal. Very cozy and casual.

#KakaGai #Kakashi Hatake #Maito Gai #Maito Dai #Sakumo Hatake #au:canon #au:domestic #g:fluff #l:oneshot #r:t

[chilligyu]

info: lee seokmin/reader, general audiences, idol/established relationship au genre: fluff | word ct: 1k warnings: none summary: after touring for months, all seokmin wanted was to be home with the one person that gave the word meaning.

“All flights departing for South Korea have been delayed, we apologize for the inconvenience. Have a good day.”

Staring up at the departure log, Seokmin can slowly feel his lifeforce drain from his body. It’s been weeks, almost months, since he was home. It’s been weeks since he felt his own bed beneath him, weeks since he showered in his own bathroom, weeks since he’s been back in the city that holds his heart. For the longest time he lived for international concerts, he loved performing for people who despite not knowing his language, were singing along to every word. He used to get such a rush from being on stage.

But now, he hates them.

“Dokyeom, I’m sure the delay won’t last long.” Seungkwan says in an attempt to stay optimistic, a reassuring hand on his back.

“I’m about ready to walk back to Korea…” Seokmin mumbles underneath his breath.

The rest of the group is completely aware of how their happy virus has been feeling for the past few days. If it had been a short tour, he’d be fine. But he’s been itching to get back since the moment they left. He tried to be his usual sunshine self for the others, they just know him too well to be fooled by the act.

Throwing his bag into a random seat, he plops down and pulls out his headphones, signalling the others to leave him alone for the time being. Unlocking his phone a sad smile creases his lips.

17:09 LOML: text me before you get on the plane!! 17:09 LOML: I miss you lots!! 17:09 LOML: woojoo misses you too!! 17:09 LOML: 🐶 17:09 LOML: can’t wait to see you tonight!!

Chuckling at his girlfriend’s excessive use of exclamation points, and her excessive cuteness, he dials her number and puts his phone to his ear. One ring, two—

“DK!” She practically beams, clearly not expecting a call.

“Hey babe,” He starts, his entire presence softening at the sound of her voice, “how is everything at home?”

“Good, good!” She exclaims. “It’ll be better once you’re back, though. It’s lonely here without you and the boys. But mostly you.”

Seokmin shakes his head and sighs. “I know, and that’s partially why I called you.”

“Why does that—oh no.” She mutters in realization. “How much longer?”

“I don’t know.” He admits honestly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “All flights to Korea are delayed. There’s nothing I can do.”

Clearly just as unhappy as he is, she whines at the news. “Will this is what I get for dating a rockstar. Busy, busy, busy.”

“I know, baby, I’m sorry—"

“It’s not your fault, DK.” She reassures him. “I don’t mind you coming home late, so long as you come home healthy.”

“I don’t deserve you.” He admits with a smile.

“Wrong.” She states plainly. “You deserve the best. And I’m definitely the best girlfriend. Wanna know why?”

He decides to play along. “Why?”

“I bought us matching sweaters!” She exclaims, proud as can be.

Seokmin couldn’t help it as a sincere laugh bubbled past his lips. “I can’t wait to try it on.”

“The boys are going to be so jealous.” She practically cackles.

“They better be.” He snickers just as he catches her yawning from the other end. “Baby, it’s late. Get some rest.”

Still yawning, he can hear her whining again. “But I don’t want to go…”

“Neither do I, but you need to stay healthy too.” He says. “What if you get sick before I come back? You don’t want me to worry, do you?”

“Mmm… no…” She admits, obviously tired. “Okay, if you insist. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Definitely.” He states. “Even if I have to swim back.”

“Oh DK.” She giggles. “Don’t do that.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay. Goodnight, DK, I love you, come back soon!”

“I will. I love you too.”

Click.

The delay lasted for four hours. Four. Whole. Hours. And to Seokmin it felt like an eternity and then some. When he finally got off the plane, it was five in the morning, everyone was exhausted and ready to go to bed. And instead of hopping in the van back to the dorms, a mere 15 minutes away, he got a cab and went straight to his apartment. Despite the manager's attempts to talk him out of it. By the time he pulled onto his street, the sun was just starting to rise. Getting out of the cab, his suitcase dragging behind him, he inhaled as deeply as he could.

Finally, finally, he’s home.

Leaving his luggage inside the front door and kicking off his shoes, Seokmin quietly ascends the stairs. Coming to the main level, a familiar scent of citrus soothed his senses, he’s missed all this. As carefully as he could manage, he starts to tiptoe over to the bedroom. Getting closer, he can already hear the charming snores of his favorite puppy and his beloved girlfriend.

With Woojoo at her feet, she’s got the comforter all wrapped up in her arms all while she’s curled up into a little ball. She looks absolutely adorable. Woojoo wakes up first, blinking, yawning, and shaking his head. It takes every ounce of strength that Seokmin possesses not to coo over the cuteness.

“Morning Woojoo.” He whispers, scratching him behind the ears. “Thank you for keeping mama safe.”

Letting out a small yip of happiness, Woojoo starts licking Seokmin’s hand before jumping down and trotting over to his water bowl.

“Dammit, Joo!” Seokmin hisses quietly through his teeth. “Don’t wake her up!”

“Hmm…” She stirs suddenly, causing Seokmin’s heart to stop beating.

He realizes it’s a false alarm as she rolls over and releases the comforter. Sighing in relief, he starts pulling off his clothes so he can change into something more comfortable. Careful not to wake her, he stealthily pulls a pillow from the bed and starts tiptoeing back out into the living room. Unfortunately for him, he’s not that stealthy.

“Seokmin?” A sleepy voice asks, rubbing her eyes.

Shoot. He curses silently. “Go back to sleep, baby, it’s still early.”

“Okay…” She mumbles, laying back down.

Once her head hit the pillow, Seokmin tries to leave again.

“Wait, where are you going?” She protests, lifting herself onto her elbows.

“I didn’t want to wake you, I was going to sleep on the couch.” He admits quietly.

Her cheeks puff out as she pouts. “Well, I’m awake now.”

Sitting up, she extends her arms towards him. Which Seokmin has learned over the years to mean “come hold me”, and what kind of boyfriend is he if he denies her? Chuckling, he puts the pillow back and leans down to kiss his beloved, something he’s been dying to do for weeks. As she hums happily, he climbs into bed beside her, lifting the comforter over both of them before wrapping his arms around her.

Feeling her body against him for the first time in a long while, Seokmin unconsciously nuzzles into her neck, inhaling the familiar scent of her vanilla lotion. Holding her close, he can feel the lethargy start to kick in. The jetlag plus the fact that he got absolutely zero sleep on the plane is enough to knock anyone out. He just wants to hold her for a bit longer.

“Welcome home, Seokmin…” She whispers.

Kissing her bare shoulder, he laces their fingers together, a blissful smile creasing his face. For the first time in a long while, he’s really truly home.

#thesvttown #kpopscape #ficscafe #seokmin fanfic #dk fanfic #seokmin scenarios #dk scenarios #svt scenarios #svt fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #m:lsm #g:fluff #w:1k #r:g #t:oneshot #tw:none #s:reader #p:3rd #fic:svt #lex writes #chilligyu #*resides