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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 18 days

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Wingwoman (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: You take your good friend/coworker, Spencer, out to the bar to find him a girl to hook up with. Things do not go as planned.

Word Count: 5107

Warnings: Romantic/sexual tension! Mentions of drinking / sex

A/N: Hi! I haven't written posted fanfic in like, 8 years, please be nice xD I would love to know your thoughts - if you have any requests or anything, I'm happy to oblige. ALSO -- I have only seen up to Season 7 of Criminal Minds because I'm a fckn loser. Anywayyyyy enjoy! Not my gif btw, all credit to the owner :)

———————————

It was kind of your fault, now that you were thinking back on it.

Actually, it was definitely your fault, now that you were thinking back on it.

It had been your suggestion to go out. It had been your idea to act as Spencer’s wingwoman, some last-ditch effort to try to get him out of your mind. He was your coworker, for Christ’s sake. And your best friend. And you’d thought about him desperately for eight of the nine months that you’d known him.

Emily, Derek, and Penelope had all agreed to tag along, but as the work day went on, each of your coworkers had found some kind of excuse to opt-out. Derek’s niece wanted to Facetime. Penelope forgot Kevin’s birthday was next week and needed to go shopping for a present. Emily had a headache.

Finding Spencer a romantic prospect on your own was certainly not the plan, but, stupidly, thoughtlessly, you’d decided to go along with it. You could do this. Just one night in a bar, chatting up women for the man you’d slowly been falling for the past eight months. As good of an idea as any, right?

You and Spencer took an Uber to the bar the group frequented. Ski-ball and pool in one corner, a vintage jukebox and small space set aside as a makeshift dance floor in the other. But the best part - half-off drinks for federal agents. You’d never been one to abuse the badge before, but…

Three Jack-and-Diet-Cokes later, your moral code had a bit of a crack in it.

Spencer stood next to you - towered over you, actually, because that man was a fucking beanpole - and you felt his eyes on you as you scanned the crowd. “What about her?” you suggested, jerking your chin to the woman at a high-top table against the wall. She had her nose stuck in her phone and an untouched martini on the table in front of her.

“She’s clearly waiting for someone,” Spencer pointed out, and you realized he was right just as the woman looked up from her phone and towards the door for the third time in the past minute. “I also don’t understand why you’re so dead set on finding someone to hog me up with.”

You snorted into your drink. “Hog you up with?” you repeated, turning in your barstool so you faced him. Your knees brushed his thighs.

“Yeah, is that not…” realization dawned on Spencer and he grimaced. “That’s not the phrase, is it?”

“Hook,” you corrected, but not impatiently. You made a little hook with your index finger, like a pirate. A little giggle escaped you. “And I’m not dead set on it,” you argued. “I just didn’t want to be the only one leaving the bar with someone.”

Your eyes flickered up to Spencer’s to gauge his reaction. He seemed surprised by this implication that you planned to leave with someone - someone who was not him.

“Yeah? Who are you leaving with, matey?” Spencer countered, arching a brow and pointedly looking at your index finger, still in its hooked position. You dropped your hand.

“It doesn’t matter right now,” you blushed furiously, desperately trying to drive the conversation back to his romantic conquests. Your thought process was that if you actually saw Spencer with someone else in any sort of romantic capacity - dancing, flirting, kissing - you’d finally hurt yourself enough with the sight for those stupid feelings for him to dissipate. “We’re looking for you.”

Spencer merely hmm-ed in response, an indecisive non-answer, and you noticed he shook his head. Like he was annoyed, but trying not to show it. You swallowed the lump in your throat and polished off your drink before returning to examining the patrons in the bar. You nudged Spencer’s elbow with your own and your gaze landed on the group of three women giggling around one of the tables. “Any of them? The blonde is cute,” you pointed out.

“Not really into blondes,” Spencer muttered, and you glanced back at him. You could have sworn his eyes were locked on your brunette hair. You opened your mouth to say something, but Spencer cut you off. “But, sure, if watching me strike out will amuse you, Y/N.” Before you could protest, Spencer set his glass down on the bar and started towards the trio of women at the table.

You leaned down to sniff his glass, curious as to what he’d been drinking. Clear liquid. No smell. Was he… totally sober?

You watched with narrowed, studious eyes as Spencer approached the women. You could only see the back of his head, but the three women’s faces were perfectly visible. They smiled, friendly, unassuming, and then something came out of Spencer’s mouth that changed their expressions. The blonde in the middle furrowed her brows, and the two women on either side cocked their heads slightly. Spencer’s hand tapped the table and he earned awkward smiles as a goodbye was bid, and when he turned around to head back towards the bar, he just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, like what are you gonna do?

“What happened?” you asked as he returned to you.

“I blew it,” Spencer said matter-of-factly. Too accepting of his defeat. Further supporting your theory that he’d gone over there and purposefully botched it.

“Right,” you flagged down the bartender to order another drink.

“You’re getting another one?” Spencer asked.

You whirled your face to meet his and didn’t see judgment, but rather, concern. “Why does it matter?” you asked, no, dared.

Spencer shook his head, defeatedly. “It doesn’t,” he grumbled.

“What about that girl you were talking to earlier by the jukebox?” you asked, nudging his shin with your foot. “The grabby one. She seemed really into you.”

Spencer visibly gritted his teeth. “I’m not interested.”

“Are you interested in anyone in this bar tonight?” You asked. The words came too quickly for you to stop them. They were too real. Especially as Spencer’s frown hardened just slightly and you watched him look away from you.

You took in a sharp inhale, the realization hitting you, the possibility that Spencer might actually feel the same way about you. And that you’d dragged him out here tonight to try and set him up with someone else. You were selfish and thoughtless and stupid.

You hopped off the barstool, your feet wavering beneath you. “I’d better go home,” you said suddenly, grabbing your bag. You had to leave. You had to go home before you said something stupid, something irreversible.

You stalked out of the bar and onto the brisk, late-autumn sidewalk. You’d forgotten your coat at the office and insisted you’d be fine. The chill smacked you in the face and you tucked your bag beneath your shoulder so you could cross your arms over your chest and hug yourself for any semblance of warmth.

Thirty seconds hadn’t even passed before the door creaked and Spencer appeared at your side, throwing his coat wordlessly over your shoulders. “What did I do?” he asked. You looked up at him and saw his eyes - hurt, frustrated, confused.

Your lips parted and there was a small shake of your head. “No,” you breathed. He furrowed his brows and you explained further. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why the hell have you been so weird around me lately?” Spencer asked, scuffing his shoe against the sidewalk. Like a temperamental first-grader.

“Weird how?” You asked, trying to pretend like you had no idea what he was talking about. Like your stomach didn’t flip every morning when you saw him.

“Like you’re… like you’re mad at me. Like you don’t want to be around me,” Spencer looked at the street ahead of the both of you rather than at you. “You always find an excuse to leave the room when it’s just the two of us. You pull Derek or Emily or Penelope into the conversation so you don’t have to interact with just me. You’re out here trying to find me someone to hook up with?” he phrased the last sentence as a question, shaking his head. Your heart lurched. He let out an incredulous laugh. “It’s either you’re trying to shrug me off as a friend entirely, or -”

He stopped himself. His eyes were fixed on the streetlamp a few feet in front of you. They widened and you felt your heart pound as he slowly met your gaze. The realization hit him, the second half of his sentence lingering, heavy and palpable between the two of you.

“Or,” you repeated, not phrasing it as a question. Your voice was soft as you said it, your tone anything but a question.

“Or?” Spencer asked, and you could see his chest start to rise and fall more slowly.

“Or,” you confirmed, taking in a sharp breath.

Spencer’s throat bobbed as he looked at you, his gaze piercing and soft, studious and lazy, hungry and satiated all at once. “Oh.”

Oh.

“How long?” he asked, turning his feet towards you.

Your face went red and you lifted your chin, refusing to make yourself feel ashamed of it anymore. There wasn’t any point, not when he knew now. “Since March,” you admitted. Your voice was squeaky.

“March?” Spencer repeated, incredulous. It was early October now.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, shrugging his jacket off your shoulders and bunching it up by the middle. You handed it to him. “You don’t have to say anything,” you said. Your body felt like it was on fire. “You don’t have to-”

“I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met.”

You thought maybe you were hallucinating for a second. Your mouth fell open and despite your three drinks, you remembered clearly that Spencer had been drinking water. This was not some drunken confession, not for either of you, because the second he’d asked you why you had been so weird lately, you had instantly sobered up. “Oh,” was all you managed to choke out.

Oh.

“Yeah, oh,” Spencer’s mouth twitched up into a smile. That playful, friendly, teasing little smile you’d learned to love on him. He stepped towards you.

You let out this little half-garbled laugh. Spencer reached for your hand, and you let him. Your fingers spread, allowing his in the spaces between. You looked up at Spencer and little fires shot up your hand. How could merely holding hands feel so monumental?

“What do we… what do we do now?” You asked, your mind in a haze, like a computer awaiting command.

Spencer let his jacket fall to the concrete and used his other hand to slowly, almost hesitantly, cup your cheek. He looked down at you and your entire face reddened. “Well,” his voice was soft, crackling, like a fireplace, and he met your gaze with searching eyes. “I’d like to kiss you now, if that would be okay,” he said finally. Your lips turned up into an idiotic smile.

“I think that would be okay,” you whispered.

His hands were so soft, you realized. His grip on your hand loosened and he was now cupping your face on both sides. And every nerve in your cheeks was firing off signals - Spencer is touching my face, Spencer is touching my face. Like it was some forbidden thing. But then, as if in slow motion, he ducked his head down and his lips touched yours. Gently, at first, tentative and wobbly like a foal taking its first steps. Your hands rested on his torso - taut beneath that stupid little sweater vest.

He pulled back after just a moment. It was really only five or six seconds at the most, but you were red-faced and breathless by the time your eyes fluttered open, into his. Spencer’s smile was now a full-blown grin, and your expression mirrored his. “Yeah?” He asked, the word carrying more meaning. You’re into this, right?

“Yeah,” you exhaled as Spencer dropped his hands from your face, but your hands remained on his torso, not wanting to step away just yet. The syllable meant more coming from you, too. I’m really, very much, super into this. Please, for the love of god, kiss me again.

Spencer arched a brow ever so slightly, and you nodded your head.

Just like a dance, Spencer’s hands moved to your waist, and at the same time, you slid yours around his neck. He backed you up, completely disregarding his jacket on the sidewalk, until you were flush against the brick wall belonging to the bar. The brisk October breeze ruffled through his hair and yours, yet, suddenly, neither of you were terribly concerned about the weather.

He kissed you again, and this time it wasn’t as timid. Slowly, at first, his lips pressed against yours, and then his tongue darted out. It teased your lips in silent invitation, and you opened them to grant him access. His hands were everywhere, your hips, your hair, your face. You had moved your own down to his torso again. He coaxed the tiniest little mewl out of your throat, a completely uncontrollable and inevitable noise.

Spencer’s low, gravelly groan reverberated through your mouth. Your hands gripped the bottom half of his shirt, balling it up in tight, white-knuckled fists. An unmistakable hardness brushed against your thigh. You were perfectly content to stay right there, pinned against the exterior wall of a D.C. bar, but the sound of a car honking its horn peeled Spencer off of you.

His face was flushed and you released his shirt from your grasp. He let out a small grunt, stepping away from you to grab his jacket off the ground, wrinkling it haphazardly in his hand, holding it strategically over his middle.

Oh, he liked you a lot.

“You okay, Spence?” You asked all-knowingly, cocking your head to the side, leaning against the wall, lifting a foot to plant against it.

Spencer shot a set of narrowed eyes at you, as if noting your smirk and storing it for later. “Yeah, I’m great,” he said, obviously struggling a little bit. His eyes quickly left yours and looked everywhere but at you.

You didn’t want to embarrass him too much. So you just crossed your arms over your chest and looked at the sidewalk. But the smirk on your face wasn’t going away quite so easily. You considered briefly trying to talk to him about baseball or something to try and help him out, but you decided pointing it out would just humiliate him. Plus, it was a nice little ego boost, knowing you could get him like that with just a simple touch.

He took a second, but he finally cleared his throat and met your gaze. You sucked your front teeth with your tongue and then bit your lip. “Want me to call an Uber?” You asked.

Spencer just nodded, and you pushed yourself off the wall, stepping over to join him, digging your phone out of your pocket to order the car. “You okay?” You asked him again after submitting the request on your phone. Spencer’s face was still flushed, but he just nodded and reached for your hand. “Careful,” you warned, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him. “Don’t want you having an-“

“Shut up,” Spencer cut you off, and you snickered.

——————————————————

You had never been in Spencer’s apartment before. It was unmistakably his, with stacks upon stacks of books in lieu of furniture.

There was a sofa in his living room, along with a coffee table, a couple of lamps, and a television on a stand. The remaining space, besides a few spots here and there and a clear path with which to maneuver the room, was filled with books.

You had never seen so many books in someone’s possession before. And sure, you were an avid reader yourself. But nothing like this. Your heart fluttered at the sight, not only because books simply just made you happy, but because it was an incredibly endearing detail about Spencer. Your Spencer.

He shut and locked the door after you stepped inside, looking around with a childlike, awestruck grin. The TV had a thin layer of dust over the screen - he clearly didn’t use it often. And as you trailed a finger along the top of the nearest stack of books, you felt a pair of eyes watching your every move.

You and Spencer had both been quiet in the Uber ride here. He had simply held your hand, swiping his thumb across the back of your palm every few seconds. You would occasionally meet his gaze, but then quickly, bashfully, look away, like the two of you were teenagers.

It was so strange to think of what he had said to you - I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met. How had you not figured it out before now?

You supposed you had been hiding your true feelings as well, so he was allowed to, too.

There wasn’t any point in wishing to change the past, you reminded yourself. All you should be focusing on is right now.

And right now, the street lamps peeked in through Spencer’s living room window, glinting off of his endless brown eyes and making them look like he had the moon in his irises.

“So,” you said softly, not nearly as wicked as you had been when you were teasing him on the street by the bar. “This is where you live.”

“Uh-huh,” Spencer bobbed his head, that awkward, straight-line smile crossing his face.

“Lot of books,” you pointed out.

“Yep.”

You arched a brow, a teasing smile crossing your face once again. “What’s with the monosyllabic conversation?”

Spencer clenched and unclenched his fists at his side. “It’s just… really difficult to just stand here and not touch you,” he admitted, a sheepish smile crossing his face.

You grinned. “You can touch me,” your voice dropped an octave, without you even really thinking about it.

Spencer licked a canine with the tip of his tongue. God, that tongue. You remembered how he’d teased you less than an hour ago outside of the bar. “Maybe I will,” he shrugged, and you rolled your eyes.

“You can’t really play it cool, right now, Spencer. Not when I just gave you a-“

“Please stop talking,” Spencer laughed, crossing the room and cupping your cheeks in his hands all in the same movement. You snickered and he kissed you and anything you might have been wanting to make fun of him for was forgotten about.

You pressed your hands against his chest - holy pectorals, Batman - and craned your neck up so you could reach him. Spencer slid his own hands down your arms and to your hips, and you looped your arms around his neck. One palm flattened against the back of his head, holding him in place, fingers curling around pieces of his soft hair.

Your heart was hammering away, and there was this aching, hot feeling that was pooling in your core and you all of a sudden felt hungry. Starving for Spencer, for every piece of him, for fully and finally crossing that line from friend to lover. An insatiable hunger for nearly every moment since you’d known him.

Finally you broke away from him, simply because oxygen was a necessity, and he rested his forehead against yours. Your eyes were still closed and your fingers ground into his scalp. “Look at me,” he requested, his voice low.

Your eyes opened obediently and one of Spencer Reid’s hands curled under your chin. His face moved away from yours but his gaze was locked on yours, a pinpoint, a Northern Star.

And when Spencer spoke again, your knees buckled.

“I want you.”

Your mouth fell open, ever so slightly, and you nodded. “I want you, too,” you whispered.

“Are you still…?” He asked, his eyes searching yours. You’d had three drinks earlier that evening, after all, but you’d polished the last one off nearly an hour ago. Maybe not fully sober, but sober enough to know what you wanted.

“I’m fine,” you assured him.

Spencer inclined his head to the side. “You’re sure? Can you pass a sobriety test?”

You narrowed your eyes at him before you realized he was being sarcastic. You stepped back from him, shrugging off his hands, and extended your arms, touching your nose with your left hand, then your right. Spencer just laughed, and reached out for you, tugging you back to him. “Okay,” he chuckled, planting a kiss on your neck. You let him. “You’re fine, then?”

“I’m fine,” you agreed, shrugging him out of his sweater vest, and then reaching for the buttons on his shirt underneath.

Spencer kissed your neck as you fumbled with the buttons - how were buttons suddenly impossible to undo? Your head craned back just slightly on instinct, wanting - needing - to allow Spencer more access. Your dexterity had become abysmal at this point, and Spencer’s lips were kissing your neck, down your throat, teasing at your collarbone. “Spencer,” you managed to groan out, a wave of annoyance present in your tone.

“What?” he asked, pulling back, concern filling his face.

You realized you had actually worried him. “Oh, no, no,” you waved it away, and he visibly relaxed. “I’m just really frustrated, because… because your shirt,” you stammered, and Spencer’s mouth twitched up into a smirk.

“My shirt,” he stated.

“That one, right here,” You laughed softly, curling your fingers around the buttons. You managed to wiggle one free, then another. Spencer leaned forward to continue kissing your neck, but you held a hand up to stop him. “Hang on,” you murmured, working through another button, and one more. “I’m concentrating.”

“You’re sticking your tongue out,” Spencer snickered. Your eyes met his and your cheeks flushed.

“I’m concentrating!” Your voice rose slightly in self-defense. Spencer’s hands went to your hips.

“It’s adorable,” he told you. “You make the same face at work. When you’re in the middle of filling out a form or trying to open a new bottle of coffee creamer without spilling it,” Spencer rubbed circles in your hips and your fingers stopped working again.

“You noticed that kind of stuff?” You asked softly, looking up at him with doe eyes.

Spencer just nodded. “All the time.”

I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met.

You inhaled sharply, finally undoing the last button.The skin beneath the shirt was pale, smooth, and perfect. And when he slid his arms through the sleeves and the shirt fell to the ground, you bit your lip, unable to help it.

“Y/N?”

You met Spencer’s gaze and let out this awkward little laugh. Embarrassing, really, if you hadn’t been in the company of your best friend. “You okay?” he asked, and you felt a little giddy as you nodded, moving your hands to his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him again.

You didn’t know which direction the bedroom was in, so you just took a guess, pushing him back towards one of the doors. He kept his hands on your hips and his lips pressed against yours as he guided you, walking backwards, to the right door. You entered the bedroom and could not possibly be bothered to look around right now, not when Spencer was guiding you in a circle by merely touching your hips, not when the back of your knees hit what was unmistakably a mattress, not when you fell back against it.

Your eyes were shut, unwilling to take in your surroundings as Spencer guided you onto your back. You toed off your shoes before lifting your legs, and Spencer hovered over you. Your lips were locked with his the entire time. And when you finally opened your eyes and you saw only Spencer, you grinned like a fool.

Spencer’s fingers were like taking a shower. They were all over you - your hips, first, then your stomach, and you had to resist the urge to giggle because they tickled as he teased the bottom hem of your shirt up. You sat up slightly to get the blouse over your head and you watched him discard it onto the floor. And then his hands were over your chest, thumbs teasing under the wire of your bra, outlining the shapes of your breasts.

Your breathing had gone heavy and staccato by this point, your body sinking into the mattress, shipwrecked as Spencer touched you. His eyes wandered over your and that little smile on his face was enough for you to know that he was immensely enjoying himself.

“Can I…?” Spencer’s hands wandered down and gripped your pants as he looked into your eyes, a brow arched.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and your blush appeared over your cheeks at the same time as his. “Yeah,” you whispered, and Spencer helped you wiggle out of your pants - black slacks, since you had gone straight from work to the bar. They were soon tossed to the floor, and you were only in your underwear and your bra. And Spencer’s brown eyes did not make you feel objectified or embarrassed, but safe.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he told you, seriously, and your breath hitched in your throat.

“You-”

“I’m not done,” Spencer cut you off, lifting a hand to run his thumb down your chin. “You’re so beautiful. And you’re so kind, and smart, and funny. And I’d really like to show you how much I care about you,” he looked into your eyes as a sort of request.

“I’m not on birth control,” You breathed out in response, feeling your cheeks redden for even bringing it up. Way to damper the mood. Still, you wanted to be responsible. “Do you have a c-”

Spencer’s soft smile turned into a wicked grin and he shook his head. “We’re not going to need one,” he promised, and after looking into his eyes for a moment, you understood.

________________________________________

Spencer had thoroughly worshiped you, until you quaked and cried out with absolutely no thought to how thin his apartment walls might be. Usually, you didn’t allow yourself to be the center of attention for too long, but Spencer had insisted, and, well, you couldn’t very well deny him what he wanted, right?

Covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your hair matted to the back of your neck, Spencer finally lay down beside you. Your breathing was just starting to come back to you as you turned on your side to face him. Spencer’s body mirrored yours, the tips of his fingers - those fingers - trailing up the side of your arm. “That was…” his voice was soft, gravelly, and he looked at you like you had anything to do with it. It was literally all him. “Incredible.”

“Yeah,” you managed to breathe out, unable to really focus on anything besides the curve of Spencer’s lips, the way the apples of his cheeks appeared when he smiled like this. Spencer kissed your lips, unlike any way he had before. All the other kisses tonight had been hungry and excited, exploratory and new. This one was lazy and slow and you let his tongue dance across yours, and when he finally pulled away, your nose scrunched up in delight.

Your eyes traveled from his lips, down his neck, his collarbone, then back up, taking him in. The glow of his skin, the tired yet exhilarated look in his eyes. So different now than at the beginning of the night, when he’d looked at you with that slightly annoyed expression as you had tried to set him up with other women. You recalled how he had gone off to that group of three women right before you’d abandoned the bar, how he had struck out on purpose just to satiate your nagging. “What’d you say to those women tonight?” You asked him curiously, furrowing your brows at him.

Spencer, in turn, arched his brows at you. “Why?”

“Because I’m curious,” you said as his fingers continued to trail, feather-light, up and down your arm. You traced your thumb along his jawline, stopping at his chin. “You were obviously blowing it on purpose.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I actually do have some game, despite what Morgan might say,” he said, his tone defensive.

You snickered. “Sure you do, Spence. Took you, what, eight months, to get me in your bed?”

Spencer shot a playful glare at you and pinched the skin on your arm. You squeaked in response and he just laughed. “I just asked them how they were doing tonight,” he said finally, and you knew just from the look on his face that he was lying.

“You did not,” you pushed back. “Come on, Reid, spill it.”

“Ok, fine,” Spencer heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes, sitting up in the bed, his back against the headboard. You sat up, too, looking at him with concern. Why was he so embarrassed? “I told them… Jesus.” Spencer rubbed the space between his brows with his thumb and his forefinger. “I told them I was here with a coworker that I had a massive crush on, and that you were trying to set me up with someone else,” he began.

You started to smile.

Spencer continued. “I told them that I had absolutely no interest in going home with anyone tonight, and that I had been purposefully striking out all night long because I couldn’t stand the thought of even trying to look at someone the way I look at you.”

Your smile grew and you moved to sit on your knees, inching closer to Spencer and throwing one leg over him, effectively straddling him against the mattress. “So I asked them,” Spencer continued, his lips turning slowly from an exasperated frown to a small smile. “I asked them if they could just look at me like I had said something stupid, and then I would leave them alone.”

“Did they say anything to that?” You asked as Spencer’s hands found your hips, contouring to match the curves into the small of your back.

Spencer’s voice got slightly lower, more serious, when he said, “The girl in the middle did. She said ‘that girl definitely has feelings for you, too’. And then they did what I asked, and I walked back over to you.”

“She did not say that,” you rolled your eyes, just as Spencer kissed your lips.

“I have an eidetic memory, Y/N,” he reminded you in a low whisper, as his lips lingered against yours. “Would I lie to you about that?”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfics #spencer reid x you #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader

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landograndprix · 1 month

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ xi

part ten - part twelve

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ charles finally realizes things between you and lando are in fact serious.

➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ sorry this took so long :') charles needs professional help <3

➽────────────────────────❥

milliexoxo

liked by y/nusername, logansargeant and 5,784 others

milliexoxo okay but my mom speaks italian

tagged: landonorris, y/nusername, carlossainz55

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norrizz NAH MISS ZOE LECLERC SIT DOWN IM NOT READY FOR YOU TO STAND

↳ yukisan HONESTLY WHATS NEXT WALKING?!

bott_ass HAVE Y'ALL NOT SEEN MILS LATEST VLOG SHE DOES WALK ALREADY

norrizz NAH SEDATE ME IM NOT READY FOR THIS

norry4 Y'ALL FORGOT ITS HER 1ST BIRTHDAY IN LIKE 2 WEEKS?!

landoscar look at mom and dad :(

julieeeexo refuse to believe that's zoë, why is she growing so fast?!

carlandooo carlos and zoë?! 🥺

↳ sharl16 charles punching air rn 😂

charliecharlie aw I'm becoming the biggest y/nlando shipper 😩

logansargeant love the new haircut. 🔥

↳ hamilt44n asjklmsks arianna what are you doing here?!

grussell63 @.y/nusername help your kid out 😭

landonorizzzz pls @.y/nusername adopt logan as well 😭

landofourr wait is this considered a y/nlando hard launch?

↳ chilisainz girl they don't need a hard launch, it's so obvious with everything they do 💀

versainz155 carlos casually hanging out with lando and his little family is what I'm living for <3

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y/nusername posted to their story

charles_leclerc replied to your story

charles_leclerc

Where's zoë?

y/nusername

with millie

charles_leclerc

What hotel are you staying in?

y/nusername

we rented a place, zoë is not stuck in a hotel room if that's what you're hinting at, she's able to crawl and walk around all she want.

charles_leclerc

You go on a lot of dates with lando and leave zoë with someone else

y/nusername

you're joking, right?

you're becoming a real asshole, Charles

get a grip

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 768,523 others

y/nusername quando in Italia 🧀 🍝 (when in italy)

tagged: landonorris, milliexoxo

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norry4 not the bucket hat, my girl has been hanging around with lando to much 😩

milliexoxo I told y'all my mom speaks Italian

↳ charlesgirlies your 'mom' speaks Italian because her baby daddy is half italian

oscarpastry charles is not half Italian 💀

charlesgirlies girl, he is in spirit lmao

bobnorriz lando and zoë content y'all 🥰

norstappen not really sure if I like the fact zoë is walking but okay..rude :(

el645 when are you going to admit you cheated on charles?

↳ hamilt44n oh god the stalker made its way to insta 💀

yukisan when is charles going to admit he cheated on y/n?

el645 aren't yall curious why they broke up?

charlescharles dude we don't need to know why they broke up? 🤡

landonorris been cooking with my best friend 💜

↳ hamiltonh SHUT UP 😭😭 😭

milliexoxo close to turning a year and still a better cook than you

bott_ass girl you're never going to get along with your stepdad if you keep bullying him like this

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y/nusername

📍 Nice, France

liked by milliexoxo, maxfewtrell and 675,458 others

y/nusername a year ago the tiniest little girl changed my life for the better, happy 1st birthday to our silly little bear ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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bott_ass happy birthday zoë!

maxfewtrell happy 1st birthday to my best friend ❤️

riabish happy birthday pretty girl! 💜💜

logansargeant happy 1st birthday zoë!

↳ hamilt44n I love this, I hope y/n adopted Logan 🥺

milliexoxo my silly little girlfriend, hope you have the happiest of birthdays! <3

carlossainz55 happy birthday to the funniest girl ❤️

norrizz this girlie is so loved 😭 happy b-day little princess! 😍

el645 funny for someone who didn't want a kid in the first place

↳ chilisainz Noelle get your ass out of here

norry4 man's must be blind, this woman LOVES her daughter

lando happy birthday to our little bear 🐻

↳ y/nusername ❤️❤️

landonorris ❤️❤️

yukisan everyday I come on this app and cry :(

charles16 Monaco gp week? Nah, it's been Zoë her week ❤️

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y/nusername

liked by milliexoxo, maxfewtrell and 698,452 others

y/nusername the bestest company. <3

tagged: milliexoxo, logansargeant, landonorris, liamlawson30

yukisan Logan had been officially adopted 😭

↳ grussell63 and Liam & his girlfriend?! 😭

lewisham Liam and y/n gave little brother big sister vibes back when Liam took dr3 his seat for a while, I'm not surprised!

norrizz I don't think y'all realize y/n started socialising way more after she left charles, I wonder with who she's hanging out with 👀

landoscar lando and oscar content thank you queen!!!!

norry4 mom and dad with their kids <3

chilisainz wonder where the die hard y/ncharles shippers are right now..

↳ yukisan probably still skipping around in delululand

mcnorris lads, she's still dating charles, lando and y/n are just friends...duh 🤪

yukisan if that's what it's like to have lando as just a friend, can I have him as a friend as well 😭

lawsonbaby LIAM?! CANT WAIT TO SEE THE VLOG

carlando they're insta official 🥺

maxfewtrell cute but where am I?

↳ milliexoxo this post is meant for the cute people..

landonorris and yet you're in it..

milliexoxo 😲

y/nusername contrary to popular beliefs, I'm actually nice and didn't want to turn you into another meme

maxfewtrell I appreciate that, thanks mate ❤️

nortrell MATE?! Best buds these two 😭

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Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-cm @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @devineendevers @celestialend

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #lando norris #charles leclerc #lando norris smau #charles leclerc smau #lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #lando x reader #charles x reader

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hyunverse · 1 month

Text

wherever you are ☆ hwang hyunjin.

hyunjin x fem!reader. childhood best friends to lovers. slowburn, pining. fluff, angst. suggestive. a hyunjin birthday special.

wc: 12.9k words.

warnings: reader often referred to as "girl," suggestive. mentions of sex.

note: this fic is my baby. it might be one of my favourite things i've ever written so far, please treat it well <3 feedbacks are very much appreciated.

playlist.

Hyunjin promised you that he'll be wherever you are. What do you do when your best friend of years — the only person you've ever loved disappears without saying goodbye? Especially when you've spent your entire life with Hyunjin, you didn't know of life without him.

one.

“Happy Birthday, Hyunjin.”

It was Hyunjin’s 10th birthday.

Despite already singing him a happy birthday song, you muttered the wish once again in the comfort of his tree house. He sat adjacent to you, feet dangling over the platform, the large leaves hovering over the tree house’s roof providing shelter from the blinding sunlight.

He hummed in gratitude, eyes busy watching Kkami running around below the tree house. Afternoons with Hyunjin were often spent like this — hanging out in the tree house as Kkami played around on the grass, its barks mirroring its happiness. For years, you’ve spent enjoying the fact that your afternoons were spent like this — were spent with Hyunjin, in childish innocence.

After letting the silence take over for a while, Hyunjin turned his head towards you, a little surprised once he saw that you were already looking at him. He tried his best to not let his surprise show.

“Why did you want to come up here? I thought you were enjoying the party inside.”

Indeed, you were enjoying the birthday party, a little too much for Hyunjin’s liking. The boys from Hyunjin’s school came to the party, and you seemed to get along with them quickly, despite being the only girl at the party. Hyunjin hates to admit it but he was a little envious. He told himself that he’s jealous because he’s your number one best friend, so you should pay more attention to him. It was true, but only partially — he was jealous because they were all boys. Not that he would ever admit that to himself.

To Hyunjin’s question, you responded by extending your arms to him, revealing a white box in your palm. He took it, quickly recognizing it as a jewellery box. He’s received one of them after purchasing a Mother’s Day gift. Quietly, he examined the engravings on the box, and the pristine look of it. Honestly, he was impressed by how clean you have kept it. You had always been one to dirty your white clothes.

“What’s this?” he asked, answering his own enquiry by opening the box with you sitting close, peering over his hands.

Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat.

In the box laid two necklaces, black strings with Lego pieces as pendants. They were matching necklaces. The Lego piece of each necklace formed a heart when joined together. His brown eyes widened, in disbelief of the gift. He’s never received something like this — something matching. It made his heart flutter — no, it beat faster than it does while playing soccer. Hyunjin turned to look into your eyes, and it was as though he had found a new revelation in yours. The more Hyunjin looked at you, the more the realization seeped in, until it overtook his senses.

You’re a girl.

You weren’t just the kid from next door, you weren’t like his other friends — you’re a girl. You like Disney princesses, you have a pretty face, you like Sanrio characters, you have soft hair, you like painting nails, you have pink lips from your strawberry lip balm, you like matching necklaces — you’re a girl.

A very pretty girl.

It felt like a revelation after having been friends with you for over five years. As though the necklaces in the box held some sort of power to snap one from a trance. Hyunjin realized that you were different from his other friends. For one, you have softer hands. Moreover, you’re someone he can develop a crush on — or whatever girls call it.

His finger traced the pendants, feeling the bumps of the Lego pieces. He smiled, one that reached his ears. You felt yourself releasing the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I love it soooo much. Thank you.”

Unlike other boys (the stinky ones from your school), Hyunjin didn’t cringe at the gift. The way he gently examined the necklaces mirrored the appreciation he felt towards it. If he was any other boy, he would’ve probably laughed at the gift, then poked fun at you.

Then again, Hyunjin had never been like the other boys you knew.

He was different in the way he spoke softly to you (softer than he would to his guy friends), and how he would let you change the TV channel from Snoopy to Totally Spies. He had always been different, that being the reason why you were so fond of him.

“You like it? Really?” you queried, staring at him. You watched his expressions carefully, trying to sense for any lies.

“Really! Which one do you want?” he answered, absolutely no hesitations. He wasn’t lying.

Hyunjin panned the box towards you, prompting you to pick which necklace. One was in black, the other in white. As always, he gave in to you, letting you be the one to choose.

“White!”

The sun was setting when you both swayed your legs, wearing the matching necklaces. Hyunjin was genuinely happy, one of his hands wouldn’t stop fiddling with the pendant. The party was still lively inside, but he much preferred sitting with you — his one and only best friend.

“Yn,” your best friend’s voice broke you from your trance. “What do you want for your birthday?”

“Hm,” you pondered, tapping your pointer on your chin in a cartoonish manner.

He was looking at you, an expectant expression on his face. You pulled up your legs to cross them as you thought.

“I think…” your voice trailed, “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “at least make it something I could give you!”

You pouted, “but that’s what I want!”

The boy sighed, laying back on the rough surface of the tree house. He looked up, observing the little glow-in-the-dark stars plastered onto the tree house ceiling. He recalled putting them up with you. You were impossible to deal with. Hyunjin desperately wanted to know your wish — something he could give you for your birthday. Your gift to him made him really happy, and he wished to return the favour.

“Then, I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris with you.”

It was such an innocent, child-like answer — straight from a 10-year-old’s desire. Untainted by the boulevard of broken dreams. As if anything in the world was possible, and that the universe was kind all the time.

“Really?” you chirped, looking at him with disbelief in your eyes. You giggled in glee and plopped yourself down beside him. “Really really? You really really really mean it, Hyunnie?”

At that point, Hyunjin could only giggle and nod. “Of course! I’ll be wherever you are.”

The manner in which you hugged him expressed your excitement. You were practically suffocating him, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing tightly.

“You’re my best friend in the world!”

Hyunjin felt like he could die.

His heart continued beating rapidly, worsened by you nuzzling your face into his neck. Hyunjin knew, it was just you being your usual self. However, the revelation he experienced minutes earlier made the tips of his ears turn red.

“Hyunjin! Come down here! Your friends are about to leave!”

At that very moment, Hyunjin silently thanked his mother for saving him.

two.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

A question which had you staring into space — the walls of Hyunjin’s bedroom for a while. The blue walls were plastered with posters of numerous musicians and self-made artworks.

It wasn’t that you didn’t know the answer. You knew. Ballet had been a part of your life since small, it was your everything. It wasn’t that you were unsure if you wanted to do ballet, you were unsure if you should be doing ballet.

Uneasiness settled into your stomach, but you tried to keep them in. You were in no mood to be going through an identity crisis.

“Ballerina,” you stated, matter-of-factly. Your eyebrows furrowed when Hyunjin chuckled.

“What?”

“Your answer hasn’t changed,” Hyunjin laughed, but not in a humorous way. Rather, it was in an expectant way, as if he knew that’s what you would answer.

You straightened your posture and tilted your head. Hyunjin laughed even more, making a comment that you looked like Kkami.

“Have you asked me the same thing before?”

He nodded, “sort of? Kind of. On my tenth birthday, I asked you what you wanted.” Hyunjin cleared his throat and took a deep breath, mimicking the voice of younger you. “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!”

“Oh, shut up!” you rumbled, hitting him with his bolster repeatedly. “That’s not how I sounded like!”

“It so was!”

Truthfully, you couldn’t quite recall the memory. You didn’t doubt Hyunjin though, it did sound like something you would’ve said.

You queried again.

“What did you answer then?”

Hyunjin turned silent. He didn’t like where this was going, not fond of recalling the cheesy answer he gave you. As he looked away from your gaze, you pressed him further. Even threatened to dog-nap Kkami.

“Fine. I said… I said I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris too…” his voice trailed, getting smaller, “said I’ll be wherever you are…”

Your eyebrows raised, scooting closer to him in mock confusion. “Sorry? Didn’t hear you.”

A pillow hit your head, and you burst out into peals of laughter. It was hilarious, the cheesy answer little Hyunjin gave, but what amused you even more was his face turning red.

Touches of laughter echoed in the room, and Hyunjin found himself praying the moment would last forever. The conversation quickly escalated into a pillow fight, ending up in Hyunjin leaning against his headboard, exhausted, and you laying on his lap.

You looked up at him, eyes fleeting to the stubble growing. Mindlessly, you grazed his cheek, feeling his sideburns prickling against your thumb.

He was growing, you realized it then. You were growing too. Neither of you were little kids anymore.

A fact you didn't want to accept.

It’s the softness of your fingers that froze Hyunjin in his tracks. He held his breath, as if you would stop if he moved. He didn’t want you to, wanted to let your fingers linger, to etch the sensation into his memories.

In a soft tone, you spoke, “Did you really mean it?”

“Hm?”

“Would you be wherever I am?”

Hyunjin’s breath hitched, a lump growing in his throat. If he spoke, he feared his feelings would become too real. For as long as he could, he wanted to bury his feelings deep down. Life was already risky as it is, he didn’t want to take any more.

It’s platonic. It’s platonic. It’s platonic.

They repeated in his brain like a mantra. Maybe if he chanted it, it’ll manifest to life.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin swallowed, “of course I will. You’re my best friend.”

Like magic, your worries about the future disappeared into thin air. Would it be foolish to trust Hyunjin so much, that you believed life would be fine as long as he was with you?

Dear universe, be good to me.

You smiled, one that Hyunjin swore could light up the entire sky. The stars must envy you, for the way you could brighten up darkness effortlessly.

“I’ll be wherever you are too.”

Yeah, Hyunjin would love it if time froze.

three.

Don’t be a coward.

Four words Hyunjin told his reflection as he got ready. He was dressed in a basic tee and a pair of jeans, hair slicked back like the one time you told him it looked good. He spritzed his cologne behind his ears, on his neck, and on his wrist before repeating the four words again. This time, he whispered it, letting it soak into his brain, in hopes his heart would have courage.

It’s been too long. The feelings he harboured for you piled overtime, the crush he once thought was temporary transforming into fondness. It was becoming too much for Hyunjin’s heart to bear, he needed to let it out. If he didn’t, he felt like his heart could burst. And if it did, it would be confetti-shaped memories of you.

Chatters echoed outside your ballet academy, Hyunjin watched through the lowered window for your face among the sea of people. He had a plan in mind — he’d open the door for you, put the seatbelt on for you, and tell you about his feelings. In front of your academy wasn’t the most ideal place for a confession, he knew, but God — he couldn’t bear sitting in silence with you as a storm raged in his head. He couldn’t do it. He wanted to say it as soon as he could.

Hyunjin’s eyes were still busy looking for you when suddenly, your face came in his peripheral vision, along with another face. The other person was lean, jet black hair with bangs and puppy-like eyes. The boy opened the door for you before Hyunjin could.

Okay, step number one failed.

“Hey, Hyunnie!” your voice chirped, getting into the car. Your hand moved to buckle your seatbelt before Hyunjin could. He was too busy analysing the stranger in front of the door.

“Hey,” Hyunjin replied nonchalantly, looking at the boy from head to toe. “And this is…?”

“Seungmin. And you?” the boy said, tilting his head. To Hyunjin, he was being challenged. Seungmin’s tone was more daring than he liked, so he felt an urge to one-up the guy.

“Hyunjin. Been friends with Yn since were in diapers.” he replied, the extra detail a pathetic attempt at one-upping Seungmin.

Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows, nodding as he shut your door, “Uh. Cool? Bye, Yn. And the friend since diapers.”

Oh, Hyunjin really didn’t like him.

“Wait, Seungminnie!” you called out just as Seungmin was walking away. He looked back at the car, raising an eyebrow. You turned to Hyunjin with puppy eyes. “Can you give Seungminnie a ride? He takes the bus and I think the next one’s in an hour.”

Hyunjin clenched his jaw, eyes fluttering from your pleading eyes to Seungmin’s figure outside the car. If it was all up to him, he would probably run the guy over. But God knew how much he cherished you, how he would rather cut his tongue than tell you “no,” so he agreed.

“Mm. Sure,” he replied, swallowing back a scoff.

Your eyes brightened, “Seungminnie! Come, we’ll give you a ride!” you yelled, tempting Hyunjin to mock the nickname you’d given him.

It was going to be a car ride straight out of hell.

Hyunjin’s knuckles were white against the steering as he pulled up to Seungmin’s residence complex. The building standing in front of him definitely belonged in a gated community, ritzy and luxurious. Somehow, that pissed Hyunjin off even more. He glanced at the unwanted guest sitting in the back seat through the rear-view mirror.

“Want me to drive you to the lobby, or what?”

Seungmin looked back into the mirror, peering at the reflection through his bangs. “Nah. They don’t let random cars in. Here’s just fine,” he mumbled, unbuckling the seatbelt. “Thanks, dude. Appreciate it.”

The car door closed behind Seungmin, leaving the two of you in the car. Hyunjin sighed, feeling the nerves creeping up him again. Now that it was only the two of you, it was time for Hyunjin to confess his feelings.

Before he could, you spoke, “Seungmin’s my friend in the academy. He’s really smart,” your eyes didn’t leave the crossroad before you, watching as Seungmin walked.

Hyunjin had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He tapped on your thigh, trying to gain your attention. It worked as you looked at him, batting your eyelashes. “Hm?”

He licked his lower lip, mustering all the courage in him. It was now, or never. “Look, I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

You shuffled in your seat, tilting your body slightly towards his way. Now that you had your full attention on him, Hyunjin felt even more nervous. He scratched the skin around his thumb, tongue-tied as his brain tried to form coherent words. He’s never done this before, always made fun of his friends for struggling to express their feelings but now that he was in the same place, he wished he could take back all the insults. The brown eyes looking deeply (and anxiously) into yours were profusely blinking, as though he was at the brink of tears. You grew worried.

“Hyunjin, what’s up?”

He scratched at the back of his neck. Why did his tongue feel so numb? Why did his brain feel empty yet so full at the same time? His heartbeats were so fast, he couldn’t quite catch up. Hyunjin was on a rollercoaster — you were waiting at the end of the ride.

Finally, he managed to muster words. “Look, I’ve pondered over —”

Two knocks on the window at the back. They’re followed by the door opening, an exasperated Seungmin popping his head into the car. Immediately, you both looked back, utterly bewildered.

“Sorry. I left my bag. Thank God you’re still here,” Seungmin said, grabbing his messenger bag and slipping it onto his shoulder. “Thanks and sorry!”

The door closed, thus silence blanketed the atmosphere once again. This time, with unresolved tension. You looked back at Hyunjin, tilting your head in curiosity.

“You were saying?”

Dazed, the raven looked at you. His face was a mixture of exasperation and confusion. His head? There was a storm raging, along with curse words aimed at Seungmin.

“Um…” He licked his lower lip, racking his brain to find back the words he wanted to say. They were all lost. He was already at the end of the rollercoaster, the bumps along the way forgotten, and the thrill subsided. All that’s left was the remnants of anxiety. He couldn’t do it anymore, not when he’s forgotten the things he wanted to say, and the moment disturbed by your dear friend Seungmin.

So, he put the gear on to drive. He shook his head and made up a white lie.

“I think I want to try a new ice cream place today.”

four.

The taste of cookies and cream could not beat the bitterness on Hyunjin’s tongue.

It may be because the bitterness has seeped into his head.

“I’m going to your room,” you announced, swinging the front door of his house open. “Hi, Mrs Hwang!” you cheered, running up the stairs after.

“I’m going to talk to my mom a little bit,” Hyunjin said, hanging both your coats on the coat hanger.

Nothing could’ve prepared Hyunjin for what was to happen next.

Both his parents were crowding the kitchen countertop when he walked in, skimming through a piece of paper. They were beaming, eyes crinkled as they smiled. A reminder that Hyunjin resembled both his parents. He blinked in confusion as to why his parents looked so happy. He didn’t think he'd seen them this happy before.

“What’s going on?” he questioned, peering over their figures to look at the paper.

On the paper were words he’d only seen in his dreams. Never in a million years he would’ve thought it’d manifest to life. His heart skipped a beat as he read the words over, and over.

“You made it, sweetheart,” his mother’s soft voice spoke, confirming his suspicion. “You got accepted. Beaux-Arts de Paris.”

“Eomma,” he mumbled, as if he was pleading. Pleading for this dream to stop. Somebody’s got to wake him up from this nightmare of a day. “There’s no way.”

Hyunjin picked up the letter, inspecting it closer. As though if he looked any closer, the words on the pristine white paper would change. Reject him. Or maybe, the logo of the prestigious school would magically transform into a logo of a school in Seoul. Anything, anything, that would keep him here. In Seoul. With you.

“You did it, sweetheart. Your dreams are coming true,” his mother keenly said, pulling him into a side hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

His dream? It was his dream, and, yours. No, scratch that — it wasn’t truly his dream. It was yours. His dream had always been to be wherever you are.

He didn’t think he would be accepted. When you told him you were rejected from the Paris Ballet School, he told you that he was rejected, too. He didn’t tell you that he was waitlisted, under the impression that he was never getting out of the waitlist. What was he to tell you now?

Hyunjin hid his sadness, wanting to make his parents proud, “Yeah. I did it. I’m so happy, eomma, appa.”

A series of praises left his parents, and he allowed for them to engulf him in a hug.

“Don’t tell Yn, ‘kay?” he muttered, before excusing himself to go upstairs. The acceptance letter was neatly folded, tucked into his pocket.

When he swung his bedroom door open, you were standing in front of his full-length mirror. Clad in only his t-shirt, you inspected yourself.

“Hey, Hwang Hyunjin,” you muttered, turning your body. “Your clothes are bigger than me now. You used to be so small.”

You looked at him, mock dismay in your face. “I was so much taller than you before. You were a dwarf.”

How was he meant to tell you about Paris?

“I was never a dwarf. You were just too busy looking down on me.”

Giggles left both of you. Silently, he observed the way you were examining yourself. You had the mannerisms of a ballerina, each gesture as gracious as your dance. Hyunjin adored the curves of your body, but God knew he loved that of your smile even more.

Later, you were both laying on his bed, you in a starfish position. Hyunjin was at the edge of his bed, trying his best to not fall.

“Ballet was so hard today,” you sighed. You turned your body sideways, burying your face into Hyunjin’s chest. He could smell you in this closeness.

“Are you wearing my deodorant?” he queried, bowing to clasp his nose onto your shoulder. It felt like a kiss to him. “This is literally the smell of my deodorant.”

You shrugged. “Yeah? What about it? You should’ve gotten used to me taking your things by now, Hwang Hyunjin. I’ve been doing this our whole lives.”

Touché. The boy sighed, letting you fill in the silence with your babbles. Wordlessly, he listened to your words, letting it be the white noise to his thoughts.

His head was clearly not there. Unbeknownst to him, you knew of this. He’d been off all day. You’ve picked up on each signal, knowing him like the back of your hand. As much as you wanted to know what was wrong, you knew not to pry. You resorted to comfort instead.

Your fingertips met at the back of his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He was never one for physical touch but sometimes, it helped. You leaned your head into his neck.

Gingerly, you whispered the words you thought he would need.

“You’re always here, around me. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

The exact words he did not need to hear that day.

How was he meant to tell you of his feelings now?

Especially when he was leaving — oceans away.

five.

Hyunjin had always loved soccer.

Whether it be being in the bleachers, or playing in the field. He loved doing both. There was something about the thrill of watching people play, and the adrenaline as he chased around the field.

Sitting in the bleachers, Hyunjin watched as his soccer team played. The sounds of his teammates laughing made the blazing sun a little more bearable. He lowered his cap to prevent the sunlight from getting in his eyes, chuckling when he saw Beomgyu falling face-first onto the grass.

He loved his soccer team. Every time he observed them play, Hyunjin’s heart always got overwhelmed with pride and joy. At that moment, he felt melancholy taking space too — the thought of not being able to play with them anymore hurting him more than he thought it would.

Hyunjin allowed for the melancholy to take space, allowed himself to feel — so much so that he didn’t feel Minho’s presence. Not until the older cleared his throat.

Minho sat beside him, “Why the long face, Hwang Hyunjin?”

“Huh?” startled, he looked up, face softening when he saw Minho. “Oh. Nothing. You’re not playing?”

“Nah,” Minho replied curtly. He silently analyzed the younger’s facial expressions before speaking up again. “For someone who’s going to Paris in two weeks, you sure don’t look too happy.”

Of course, Minho out of all people would notice the change in his mannerisms. Always the analyzing one, quick to notice changes in demeanour. There was no point in lying, not with Minho — so he let out the sigh he didn’t realize he was holding.

“It’s bittersweet, you know?” he mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.

“It’s Yn, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“You don’t want to part ways with her. It’s what’s holding you back.”

Right on. It was as though Minho was a mind-reader. A heavy weight pulled on Hyunjin’s heartstrings, made his heart even heavier than a few minutes prior.

“Yeah,” he didn’t lie, again. He looked at Minho, and the older could clearly see the uneasiness written all over his face. “If you were me… would you tell her about your feelings?”

“The fact that you like her?”

“Yeah.”

Minho fell silent. He pondered over the question, looking at the sight before him. The sun was setting, orange hues painting the sky. Hyunjin wondered if Paris sunsets would look the same.

“I think…” Minho turned towards the younger. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t tell her.”

“Why?”

“Won’t benefit you, I don’t think.” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Listen. If you were to tell her, and she accepted, do you think you could get into a relationship with her?”

“I mean —”

Minho cut him, “Realistically, do you think the relationship would succeed? I mean, the time zone between Seoul and Paris is pretty big. The distance, too. I don’t think it would work out. And that’ll be bad, you know? You’ll both be left wondering what could have been.”

The truth hurt. The distance, the time — none of them were on Hyunjin’s side.

“And, if, God forbid, if she were to reject you… do you really want your last memory with her to be the hurt you’ll feel?”

Hyunjin shook his head. The other sighed, and patted him on the back.

“There are things better left unsaid. You should take her out. Spend your last time with her nicely.”

Despite Hyunjin’s stubbornness, he took Minho’s advice. It took him a lot of contemplating (and crying), but he followed it anyway. Whether he liked it or not, Minho’s advice had a lot of truth in it.

Bitter truths, but true regardless.

six.

“Where are we going?” you whined, trailing behind your dear friend. The sun was setting in two hours, orange hues were beginning to paint the sky. “Hyunnie, if you don’t tell me where we’re —”

“Please, stay patient. Will you?”

Hyunjin looked behind. He was wearing a blue knitted vest. In one hand, he held a picnic basket. The other, is your handbag. You never have to carry your own with him.

“But we’re literally in the middle of nowhere!”

“Please just trust me,” he pleaded. One hand was stretched towards you, a silent offer to hold his. “Come. If you’re too tired, I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

Ever the opportunist, you took up on the offer. Alas, Hyunjin was left walking the remaining distance, you happily singing road trip songs while clinging onto his back. To butter him up, you told him that he must’ve been a blessing sent to you by God. Although he groaned at the remark, you couldn’t see the small smile on his face.

After a few minutes, you understood why Hyunjin was adamant about going out that day. Before you, green plains stretched as far as your eyes could see. Scattered across viridian shades were wildflowers. Some yellow, some pink.

Hyunjin had brought you to a flower field.

The picnic basket, and the Polaroid camera finally made sense.

Without any more words, you jumped off his back and ran into the field. The yellow sundress you wore matched that of the wildflowers. In Hyunjin’s eyes, you blended right in.

You were as pretty as the flowers.

“Careful, Yn! Don’t fall!” He called out, his voice echoing in the space. He watched you from afar. There was an urge to run among the flowers too, but he was much more content with watching you.

From a distance, in silence, he observed your every move. He couldn’t help the giggles that left his lips. The smile that lingered on his lips. He wanted this memory to last, to be ingrained in his brain forever. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to witness your happiness.

“Hyunnie, you need to come here! It’s so nice!”

Chuckling, he carefully placed the picnic basket on the ground. Hyunjin was done with setting up the picnic spot. He ran towards you, lifted you off the ground and twirled you around. You broke out into giggles and held onto his arms.

Among the flowers, two silhouettes danced with each other. Swaying to the same melody as the peonies. Despite being a ballerina, you kept stumbling onto Hyunjin’s feet, giggling each time he elicited an “ow.”

Like a scene from a movie.

Like he wasn’t going away soon.

Before the sun could set, Hyunjin convinced you to sit on the picnic blanket. He wished to dance with you longer, but alas, time awaits for no mortal.

“How do you want me to pose?” you asked. You were facing him, legs tucked sideways.

Hyunjin scooted closer to you, and wiped breadcrumbs off your lips. He commented on you eating messily. “You can pose however you want.”

You nodded, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Okay. Make sure you get my good angles, yeah?”

“You look good from any angle.”

Crimson crept up your face. You hadn’t expected that remark. You hoped he wouldn’t see you blush, you would just tell him it’s the sun then.

“Okay…”

Two clicks, then a flash went off. Your eyes widened, caught off-guard.

“You didn’t even count to three!”

Your whines were responded to with a giggle. The camera whirled, apprising you of a Polaroid developing. Hyunjin took it, fanning the Polaroid with a grin. He was excited to see it.

“I wasn’t ready!”

“Candid photos are better,” he sighed. “Don’t you know? Everything’s prettier when it’s genuine.”

“So you’re calling me pretty?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Have I ever said you’re ugly?”

Right. He has never.

You prayed to God the heat on your face was from the sun and not from blushing.

Once the Polaroid fully developed, Hyunjin made sure he was the first to see it. To your dismay, he held it close to his face, shielding it from you. His cheeks dimpled, illustrating his happiness. You looked so pretty, the sunlight on your face giving you an angelic glow. If he looked closer, he was sure he’d see a halo.

Hyunjin wanted to keep this forever.

If he couldn’t freeze the time, he figured he’d trap the memories in photographs.

“Let me see!” you whined. “It’s a picture of me! I have the right to see it.”

Scampering towards him, you waved your hands, trying to get the photograph off his hand. To no avail, Hyunjin had quick reflexes much thanks to his soccer experience.

“No! You can’t — it’s for my eyes only!”

“Ridiculous! That’s my face, Hyunnie!”

“It’s my camera film. So it’s mine!”

Neither one of you would let up, legs entangling against each other as you fought over the photograph. He was determined to not let you even see the picture. One of your palms pressed against the picnic blanket, the other reaching up towards his hand. Hyunjin used his free hand to push you gently but alas, he underestimated his own strength. In one swift move, you lost your balance, toppling over him.

“Ow,” he fell back and winced in pain. He looked up, and all the back pain was suddenly replaced by shyness. There you were, on his lap — face just as flushed as his.

Hyunjin didn’t know what to do now.

Pathetically, he just stared into your eyes, finding himself getting caught in them. He could feel your hitched breaths against his chest, he was very aware of your trembling fingers on his arms. There was a strong urge to kiss you as his eyes fell onto your lips. He wondered how they’d feel on his lips. He imagined it in his head — missing the way your eyes stared at his lips too.

If you were a flower, Hyunjin would be a bee. He desired you, eyes tracing the shape of your lips. Over, and over. If he kissed you, would your lips taste like honey?

He ought to find out. Hesitantly, he inched his head closer to yours. The warmth of your breath against his skin marked the closeness between you.

Numerous scenarios flashed in Hyunjin’s mind. Of him kissing you senseless, then whispering a love confession in your ear. Of your cold fingers pressing into his skin as he tells you each perk of yours that he loved endlessly. The more he imagined, the closer he was. You shut your eyes, waiting for his lips to finally press onto yours.

Paris. The one-way plane ticket to Paris.

Against his heart’s desire, his fingers cupped your chin instead. Subtly, he pulled back, eyes trailing back up to your eyes. He ignored the look of confusion in your eyes.

Reaching down, he pocketed the photograph. His heart clenched as he spoke, but he did anyway.

“I win.”

The two words pulled you from your trance — they tore off your heart like paper. You blinked, watching the playful smirk that graced Hyunjin’s porcelain face.

“Oh.”

The whole journey home, bitterness sat on Hyunjin’s tongue like the aftertaste of tangerine pulp. Did you want the kiss too, or had his libido fabricated things?

Nevertheless, he couldn’t kiss you. Not when he had suitcases packed for Beaux-Art de Paris. Not when it’s all his parents could talk about.

Minho’s words played in Hyunjin’s mind like a broken record. They served as a reminder of what could not be. For the sake of his heart, he told himself that it had all been a figment of his imagination.

Tension cloaked the front door of your house. Neither of you made a noise, save for the jingling keys in your carabiner. You observed Hyunjin, who was busy looking at his shoes. Once again, his mind wasn’t in his head. It had been that way for a few weeks.

“See you soon?” you mumbled.

Hyunjin looked up, nodding at your words. He pulled you into a hug, one that almost crushed your bones. Shakingly, he nuzzled his head into your neck, burying his face into the skin like you would dissolve if he didn't. It must’ve hurt his back but you made no comment, instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, in hopes it'll give him solace. By the front door you held him, so tight that it was as though the two of you were one, the curves of his fingers burning through your skin.

You didn’t know that it was a goodbye. It had to stay that way.

Once more, his heart clenched in his chest. Two hands cupped your cheeks, as gentle as he could be, like you would break. He engraved this version of you into his memory — kind eyes boring into his with a soft smile plastered across the face he'd grown to adore. He vowed to always remember this face.

Deeply, he inhaled his breath. Preparing the next words — lies to say to you, no matter how tight his chest felt.

“Yeah, see you soon.”

The last words Hwang Hyunjin muttered to you.

seven.

One day before your birthday.

It had been two days since Hyunjin brought you to the meadow. You hadn’t seen him much, just glimpses of him as he played around with Kkami in his backyard. You figured that he was busy.

“Hello, I’m home!” you said in a sing-song voice as you stepped into the Hwang household. Kkami who’d usually greet you wasn’t in his usual spot, so you trudged straight to the kitchen, where Hyunjin’s mother was sitting. “Hi, Mrs Hwang.”

She looked up, lips twitching into a smile, a cookie-cutter of Hyunjin’s. Under the kitchen light, you don’t miss the dried tears by her eyes. You pursed your lips, wondering if she was watching a sad drama. Hyunjin inherited his trait of easily crying from his mother, after all.

“Hi, sweet girl,” she looked at your outfit from head to toe. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“Oh,” you muttered, giving her a little twirl. “My birthday outfit! Is it pretty?”

“Of course.”

You smiled at her, fiddling with the hem of your blouse. Keenly, you looked around the kitchen for any traces of Hyunjin. You realized that the house seemed much quieter than usual, emptier than normal.

“Where’s Hyunjin?” you asked. The reason why you’d come over was to show your best friend your birthday outfit. Now that you were there, he was nowhere to be seen. “Is he home?”

Sympathy materialized in the mother’s old eyes. She tilted her head at you, lips pursing as she thought of the correct words to say.

“My girl, did he not tell you?”

Confusion would be an understatement. Hyunjin told you everything, everything — from pointless thoughts to his deepest, darkest secrets. You were his secret keeper, his companion — there was nothing he wouldn’t tell you.

Was there?

It had to be something unimportant, right? Perhaps he was off to an art workshop and forgot to tell you. But looking at his mother, it felt like something big. You grew anxious under her sympathetic gaze.

“Tell me what?” you questioned, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“We just came back from Incheon Airport. He’s on a plane to Paris,” the lady replied. She stood up, inching closer towards your trembling figure. “Did he not tell you, Yn? I thought he did.”

“Paris?” you asked, blinking. “Like. For a vacation?”

“No, sweetheart. Beaux-Arts de Paris. He got into the school.”

The words felt like bullets on skin, penetrating and chagrining you deeply. It felt unreal — a hoax.

You scoffed, “What? He wouldn’t go without telling me.” Your eyes searched for humour in his mother’s eyes. “Is this like, a birthday prank?”

Her eyes saddened even more. “No, sweetheart. He really went.”

Another betrayal came in the form of tears cascading down your eyes without warning. The emotions hit you faster than your brain could process things. Speechless, you took steps back from his mother, before running up the staircase to his room.

He had to be there. Sitting in his swivel chair and laughing at your face. He’ll tell you it was a prank and wipe away your tears.

Hyunjin was your best friend of a lifetime. He wouldn’t do this to you. He had to be there.

When the door to his room swung open, a sob was knocked out of your mouth.

All traces of life in the bedroom were gone, save for the soft purrs of Kkami sleeping on the bed. The bed was stripped of its bedsheets, and the towels hanging behind the door were gone. The laundry bag was empty.

All traces of Hyunjin were gone.

The realization hit harder than his mother’s words. If the words hurt like bullets on skin, the sight of Hyunjin’s lifeless room felt like a knife twisted in your gut. It felt like sanguine dripping from wounds, and Hyunjin’s holding the knife. It felt like a betrayal.

“Hyunjin,” his name slipped from your lips like a plea. “Hyunjin.”

More choked sobs escaped your windpipes as you searched around the room. First, it was his wardrobe. The oak material was practically empty, all that remained were a couple of sleep tees and the shirts you’ve left over the years. You rummaged through the hangers, finding that he had brought one of your sweatshirts along.

The confirmation of his departure was the emptiness of his study table. Each nook and cranny of his table used to feel like Hyunjin, from the stacks of sketchbooks to eraser dust. Everything was Hyunjin — but at that moment, there was nothing. There was only a void — that of his desk and your heart.

Your best friend was truly gone.

“Hyunjin,” the name wrestled its way past your lips again. This time, it was out of longing. “Hyunjin.”

The manner in which you walked to his bed echoed your feelings. Quivering, like a toddler’s first time walking. Your body fell onto the bed, earning a soft whine from Kkami. Gently, you held Kkami in your arms, letting a stream of tears cascade down your cheeks. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to cry, to feel, to mourn.

If someone were to tell you that Hyunjin out of all people would make you cry that much, you would’ve laughed. Never in a million years, you’d say. The only times he had made you cry were from laughter.

“Kkami,” you cried. The chihuahua nuzzled its head into your arms, as though it could feel your sorrow. Perhaps it could. “I miss Hyunjin.”

The dog whined. It looked up to you, placing its paw onto your arm. You cried even more.

“I wanted to tell him about how I feel today,” through sobs, you managed to speak. “How could he make me feel so many things in one day and disappear the other? He didn't even say goodbye.”

It felt like the chihuahua was mourning with you — the way it nudged its head onto your arm, letting out soft whimpers. As though it was telling you that things will be okay.

You weren’t sure that it would. You spent your whole life with Hyunjin by your side, you had never known life without him. Now that he was ripped from your grasp, you didn’t know how to go on. No — he voluntarily released himself from your grasp, without warning. It was worse.

Physical traces of Hyunjin in his room were gone. There was only his scent — the smell of his shampoo, and his cologne. It lingered in the room, mocking you.

In your melancholic state of mind, you could only weep.

eight.

“Coffee, or tea?”

A female voice broke Hyunjin from his trance. He looked up at the stewardess standing by his seat, the sweatshirt doused in your scent crumpling in his tight grip.

“I want to get off this plane,” sat on his tongue and dissolved. He took a deep breath.

“Um,” he looked at the cart, “Plain water, please?”

Coffee would only force Hyunjin to stay awake, forcing him to listen to his own brain’s torments for 14 hours straight. Tea reminded him too much of you, of the times when you were little and would make him play tea party with you. He’ll think about the times you’d cheekily kiss his cheek, an attempt to woo him into playing with you. It worked each time.

The stewardess nodded, handing him a water bottle branded with the aeroplane’s logo. He muttered a thank you, yet the stewardess still didn’t walk away. She looked nice, her eyes analyzing Hyunjin told him that he must’ve looked like the epitome of a wreck.

“First time flying?” she questioned. It wasn’t his first time, having gone on many vacations before yet he nodded. “I see. It’ll be fine, just sit back and relax.”

The woman, whose name tag said Chaewon flashed Hyunjin a hospitality smile — one he didn’t think he deserved — then walked away. Hyunjin pursed his lips, wishing that she hadn’t walked away. He didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts, he didn’t want to be awake, he didn’t want to be in this plane — there were a lot of things he didn’t want to do, but had to do.

Hyunjin wanted to turn back.

Silently, he looked out the window, watching as the landscapes of Seoul grew smaller, slowly becoming covered with clouds. He desperately wished to get out, praying to God that the plane would miraculously turn back and the tableau of Seoul would become bigger. Had he told the stewardess named Chaewon he wanted to get off, would they have let him? Had he told his parents he didn’t want to go to Paris, would they have understood?

If he tells you he’s sorry, would you forgive him?

Regrets and memories clouded his mind, tears making their way down his cheeks. Each thought strangled his heart, and he could feel it physically aching. In a melancholic state of mind he sat, clinging onto your sweatshirt like it was his lifeline, allowing slumber to slowly take over.

The break from his own thoughts did not last long enough.

Seven hours later, Hyunjin woke up to dried tears on his cheeks. He straightened his posture and glanced at the window, feeling a wave of emotions at the change of landscapes. Hyunjin wasn’t sure in which city they were flying over, but he could say with certainty that it did not look like Seoul. It did not feel like home, it did not feel like you.

Unable to fall back to sleep, he couldn’t help the thoughts that poisoned his mind. Looking over the landscapes, he came to a realization much too painful for his heart to bear.

You and him — you were the Sun, and he was the Moon. Two people of different circumstances, who’ll never meet, ripped away from the merciless hands of time. For your timezones were different — horizons even more.

As a wave of new tears descended, Hyunjin wondered if he would ever forget about you.

The answer came to him one afternoon three years later, as he laid on the couch in his Parisian apartment.

No, he’d never forget about you. At least not in three years. Maybe not even in five.

Sunlight seeped in through the balcony, providing Hyunjin the warmth he wasn’t able to receive from a person. His roommate was a French guy who was always out and about, leaving Hyunjin to soak in his own company for hours on end. Sometimes, for days. Hyunjin loved and hated it at the same time.

His limbs stretched across the burgundy couch, a yawn eliciting past his lips. Brown eyes stared at the canvas in front of him, black and white hues scattered on white, forming a half-finished painting of you.

Years later, and you remained at the back of his mind — his muse.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

nine.

There are five stages of grief.

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, then acceptance. Denial was the hardest for you, having spent your entire birthday staring at the front door of your house, praying Hyunjin would walk in. When your friends sang you a Happy Birthday, it sounded like a morose ballad playing from a broken record. Without Hyunjin, gloom sat at the centre of even the happiest things.

Then came a sixth stage — one that seemed to exist for you.

Motivation.

After coming to acceptance that your best friend had gone, without any farewell, you spent many hours a day in the ballet studio. Pirouette, arabesque, plié — you managed to polish each move with the amount of time you spent cooped up in the studio. You weren’t born with ballet feet, but the times spent in pointe shoes had somehow moulded you into having them.

Perhaps, it was distraction, disguised as motivation.

Nevertheless, the tireless hours of practice granted you a position in the Paris Ballet School.

Paris felt bittersweet when you first landed. It was the city of your dreams, but the reminiscence of the person it took from you made you loathe it.

Withal, life had to go on. To cope with the Parisian lifestyle, you managed to get a job at a cafe near your academy — Desir Cafe. You worked night shifts as a kitchen crew but if traffic was overwhelming in the afternoons, your shitty excuse of a boss would make you come in anyway.

Unfortunately for you, it was one of those days. Clinks and sizzles reverberated in the kitchen, the peg board overwhelmed with sticky notes of orders. You were everywhere in the kitchen, from piping icing on cupcakes to sprinkling chocolate rice on pastries.

“Yn,” the main baker yelled, “Tell Double C’s we can’t stock up on macarons! We’re out of almond flour!”

The Double C’s — Charlotte, and Colette. They were a duo who worked as waitresses, always gossiping. Birds of the same feather, attached by the hip.

Exasperated, you headed to the front, swinging the kitchen door open to see the duo gossiping. Charlotte was leaning in towards Colette, whispering into her ear, earning giggles from the other. You sighed, wondering what the topic was that afternoon. Curious as to who they were gossiping about, you looked towards the direction they were looking.

Seated alone at the corner of the cafe was a guy, blonde hair gleaming golden from the sunlight seeping through the big window. His utmost focus was on the sketchbook in front of him, frail fingers dancing across paper, entrancing any eyes which fell upon him. You couldn’t help but stare, your face gradually contorting into disbelief.

He resembled too much like Hyunjin — your Hyunjin.

Your gaze lingered on the man, analyzing each crease of his face, matching it with the one you had in mind. He looked just like Hyunjin, from the shape of his nose to the mole under his eye. The only difference was the hair. Hyunjin’s hair was raven black, but the person in the cafe had golden blonde hair. You felt your throat tighten. If the man sitting at the corner was him, then time had done good on him. He was beautiful, face sculptured beautifully by time’s gentle hands.

“Ooh, look who’s ogling!” a high-pitched voice interrupted you. You looked up to see the Double C’s looking at you, wiggling their eyebrows mischievously. Charlotte smirked, “Think the guy’s cute?”

“Huh? What guy?” you lied, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Colette rolled her eyes. “The dude over there! Don’t lie, you think he’s cute.” The brunette wiggled her eyebrows even more, subtly pointing at the man.

You didn’t say anything else, but your eyes travelled back to the familiar silhouette. The sense of familiarity tugged on fragile heartstrings the more you looked at him. Colette could sense your curiosity, so she parted her lips to speak.

“That’s Hyunjin. He’s a student in Beaux-Arts de Paris,” she muttered, unbeknownst to her the mixed emotions that dawned upon you. “He comes here almost every afternoon. Maybe that’s why you’ve never seen him before. He’s cute, isn’t he?”

Excitedly, Charlotte nodded her head. “A total heart-throb, honestly.”

“I mean…” your voice trailed, “He’s quite alright.”

How were you supposed to react to finally seeing the one who got away? Were you supposed to feel excited, or upset? It was like the moon had suddenly dropped down onto your lap.

You were confused.

Charlotte continued speaking, not realizing the mixture of emotions in your face. “Sometimes, the students have exhibitions about ten minutes from here. His artworks always make it to the exhibitions. I’ve seen them, and they’re really beautiful.”

You turned towards her, “Exhibitions?”

She nodded, still naive as to your shift in behaviour. “I think the school has an exhibition every three months or so.”

Unfaltering, your eyes bored holes in Hyunjin’s back. He was in his own little world, evidently absorbed in whatever piece he was working on. Just like that, the memories you spent years suppressing came rushing back.

It was unfair, the impact he had on you. There he was, lounging in a corner while your heart grappled in your chest. He looked older, better — and you were still the little girl in the tree house. Swaying your feet as they dangled, as though you had all the time in the world.

Charlotte and Colette exchanged looks as you stared at him. To them, you were simply developing a crush on a stranger. They wouldn’t understand the conflict brewing in you, they wouldn’t be able to comprehend the ache that stirred in the depths of your heart.

“What? You’re interested in him?” Charlotte spoke, breaking you off your trance. You looked at her, blinking. “Don’t even try. I’ve tried. I think he’s gay.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“He’s not gay — oh my god, Lottie!” it was Colette’s turn to speak. Playfully, she smacked the other’s arm. “I asked that guy he’s always with, the songwriter — Felix. Cute guy, that one. Felix told me that he’s got a secret lover or something.”

“Secret lover?”

“Yeah. Apparently, he likes to draw this one girl. His sketchbook’s filled with her,” Colette murmured, glancing at Hyunjin. “Felix asked her who she was, and he said it’s a girl of his dreams.”

Your heart dropped. You weren’t sure to which news you should react first, either Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin, or that he has a secret lover. Either way, it made you pathetically jealous. Your heartstrings thrummed in anger as you imagined a beautiful French girl spread out on his bed, and Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin.

How could he go on with his life when you spent years mourning him?

Crimson tainted your lip as you bit on it hard, the taste of metal at the tip of your tongue.

Perhaps, you never made it past the anger stage of your grief.

ten.

You truly tried to be happy for Hyunjin.

For days, weeks — you spent convincing yourself that you had to be happy for him. Sure, he hurt you three years ago. Sure, you spent years in agony, regretting not telling him how you felt earlier, wondering what could’ve been. Sure, you hoped that you’d see him in Paris and he’d tell you that he’s in love with you and kiss you senseless — but those were just desperate prayers, weren’t they? Those were simply hopeful scenarios. You hadn’t expected them to come true, had you?

Hyunjin was your best friend of years. He deserved happiness, even when you didn’t feel happy. You had to let things go. You had to be happy for him.

Clearly, you failed at convincing yourself.

In front of a building you stood, the sound of people walking past becoming white noise. You stared at the banner standing in front of you, the words Autumn Exhibition displayed, with the logo of Beaux-Arts de Paris at the top. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat.

A week ago, Charlotte told you that the university would be holding another exhibition, and Hyunjin’s artworks most likely made it into the exhibition. You knew then, that you had to go. If you didn’t get to see him, then you at least wanted to see his pieces. To not be a part of his life was devastating, you wished to at least witness glimpses of it.

9:45 p.m. was displayed on your screen, people were beginning to leave the exhibition. There weren’t many people around, which was what you were hoping for. Visiting the exhibition in daylight meant potentially bumping into Hyunjin, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

One day you ought to meet him, but not today. Not when the fragments of your heart have yet to be mended.

After taking a deep breath, you willed yourself to step into the exhibition. A gust of wind hit your face, and you shivered, clutching your coat tight. The art display seemed to be painting-themed, the way frames of canvases were scattered around the building. Baroque paintings were displayed all over, each piece as beautiful as skies at dusk.

The tapping of your heels against the ceramic tiles sounded as you walked, the romantic lighting of the room providing you with a sense of comfort. Wildly, your eyes observed each piece, letting your heart be swayed by the beauty.

They were all beautiful — but they didn’t feel like Hyunjin.

Until your eyes trailed to a certain piece.

It was the centrepiece, the piece — little bulbs of lights were installed above the frame, making the piece feel alive. The moment your gaze fell on the artwork, you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, taking hurried steps towards it. You stared, unable to take your eyes off the hues on the canvas.

There weren’t many hues, just black and white. It depicted two figures on swings. You couldn’t see the figures clearly but you could tell they looked happy. You could see through the strokes of paint that they were happy — though the artist not so. There was a certain sadness in the painting, one that screamed nostalgia.

The longer you looked at the piece, the more you realized.

It was a fragment of your memory.

Your breath hitched. In came a memory of you and Hyunjin — running around the park before playing on swings. It was a particularly memorable day, you could recall falling off the swing and Hyunjin kneeling in front of you, kissing the bruises on your knees with the tenderness of a feather. It was the first time you felt so protected, and so loved.

A rush of emotions overcame you, you wondered if that was how Hyunjin felt when he painted it. Had he thought of you, and wept by his easel? Had he stained his cheeks with charcoal as he wiped stray tears off his face?

You wondered, so much so that you failed to realize a silhouette entering the display.

Hyunjin didn’t enjoy art exhibitions in daylight. They felt pompous. The people who visited the exhibitions would usually walk around casually, and took photos. They didn’t harbour any sort of deep appreciation towards art, they didn’t sit and admire.

Therefore, Hyunjin loved revisiting exhibitions in the comfort of twilight. When the expositions were empty, he enjoyed revisiting them, taking his sweet time to admire each piece.

When he spotted a figure standing before his piece — his most vulnerable piece, he felt his heart drop. He watched from afar as this person observed the artwork, body as still as a mannequin. He had never witnessed someone admire a piece this intensely, especially with it being one of his pieces. He felt flattered, his heart swelling in pride and joy.

Silently, Hyunjin approached the figure. Usually, he was shy, not the type to approach people first but somehow, he felt the strong urge to this time. Fate was pulling him by his heartstrings.

“That’s my painting,” Hyunjin spoke, ensuring his voice was as soft as possible.

The sudden voice startled you. You whipped your head towards the source of the noise, eyes widened in shock. They widened even more at the sight before you.

Hyunjin’s breath hitched. His heartbeats escalated, taking in the figure standing in front of him. His fingers dug into the skin of his thumb, lips quivering. Brown doe eyes mirrored yours.

“Wh — what?” he spoke again, breathless. “Yn?”

A few steps were taken, inching closer towards you. His eyes scanned your face, lips quivering even more when he realized that it was you — you were real, and you were standing in front of him. You looked the same as you did three years ago, except more beautiful. How’d you get more beautiful? The passage of time had seemingly been good to you, the way it had carved your face into one Hyunjin could imagine himself filling his canvases with.

“Hyunjin,” you willed yourself to speak. You ignored the way your eyes watered. “It’s you.”

“It’s you, too. You’re here.”

Another few, brave steps were taken. You, on the other hand, didn’t move an inch.

“I hate you,” the words spilt past sanguine mouth before you could stop them, its venom contrasting the hushed tone of your voice. They crushed Hyunjin’s heart, though he knew he deserved them. “But I missed you.”

“I’m sorry,” was all that he could say. Hyunjin meant it. He really was sorry. He was sorry as he sent you back from the meadow, too cowardly to bid you goodbye. He was sorry when he packed his bags, stealing one of your sweatshirts for solace. He was sorry when he was on the plane, wishing he could turn back time. He was sorry when he painted numerous portraits of you. He was sorry as he stood before you, watching tears flow down your cheeks because it was the least he could do — a form of punishment for what he had done to you.

You shook your head, palms rushing towards your face to wipe away tears.

“It’s not enough, I know,” he mumbled, moving closer towards you to wipe your tears, like it was instinct, feeling his heart clench when you took steps back. “But I truly am sorry.”

“You didn’t even say goodbye,” you sobbed, vision blurry. “You didn’t even contact me.”

“I know, Yn, I know — I’m sorry. I wanted to call you, but I couldn’t,” he rambled, cupping your cheeks and rubbing on the skin. You allowed him to. “I swear, I wanted to write to you, but I was too embarrassed, and by the time I had enough courage it was already too late.”

Sobs wrestled their way past your lips, barely able to form coherent words. You kept shaking your head, blurting out the words you’ve kept for years.

“You just left me, Hyunjin — you left me. A day before my birthday,” your whimpers got louder, “I wanted to tell you I’m in love with you, on my birthday. Hell, three years later and I’m still in love with you.”

Hyunjin’s face paled. He had expected curses, and cries — but he hadn’t expected that. Anything, but that. His limbs moved before his brain could process things, lifting your chin to meet eyes. Your eyes were tinted with tears, but you were still beautiful. You’re always beautiful.

“What?” he squeezed your cheeks, “Yn, what?”

“You heard me. I’m not saying it again. It's fucking pathetic.”

“Fuck,” he exhaled. Hyunjin knew he was supposed to feel remorse, but God — his heart bloomed at the words you had whispered to him. You’re in love with him. You’re in love with him, the same way he was in love with you. “Fuck, Yn. You can't just say shit like that.”

Feather-like touches grazed your lips. There was a certain look in Hyunjin's eyes, one that you couldn't quite figure out — they were a look of longing. How could you know it was longing when you had never bear witness to them? You could feel his breath against your face, warm like his fingertips.

“You have no fucking idea how long I've been in love with you. You have no idea how much I missed you. Fuck, I think about you every fucking day,” he whispered, “You have no idea how much I regret getting on that plane.”

At that moment, all you could feel was Hyunjin. His deep, brown eyes staring into yours and his thumb pressing onto your lip.

“Kiss me,” you whispered back, “Kiss me, Hwang Hyunjin.”

And kiss you, he did. His lips crashed against yours with fervour, moving his lips to the same beat as his racing heart. You kissed back in the same manner, letting out the emotions you had bottled up.

I love you, I love you — each movement of his lips was a love confession, etching his adoration onto the curves of your lips. You caressed his cheeks akin to holding stars in your palms — careful, precious.

Finally, you pulled apart to catch your breaths, bodies heaving against each other.

“Please, give me a second chance.”

It’s odd the way human minds work, because at that very moment, you were reminded of Colette's words. Ones that mentioned a rumoured secret lover.

“But,” you felt silly for saying it, “Your secret lover?”

“My secret lover?” the boy's eyebrows furrowed. He then chuckled upon realization. The rumour must've spread to you. “Ah, that secret lover. It's you, idiot.”

He smiled. You didn’t think anyone could look as beautiful as he did.

“It's always been you.”

eleven.

“Careful — come on, get under here.”

Giggles echoed in the alleyways as two shadows lingered in the darkness of midnight. It was raining, the pavements darkening with wetness and the wind howling a sweet melody. At that particular hour, under the moonlight, Paris looked like the city of love.

You rushed out of the exposition hall, getting under Hyunjin’s leather jacket. He’d promised you the date of your lifetime that night, and he wasn’t one to break his promises.

Hyunjin’s back was damp from the rain, but it didn’t matter as long as not a droplet landed on your body. It only took a few minutes (and a lot of giggles in between) to reach Hyunjin’s so-called secret spot.

Streetlights shone on a bench, and clusters of flowers surrounded a little pond. The spot overlooked the city, you could see the city lights from all the way up here. You gasped in awe, it’s no wonder Hyunjin insisted on coming here.

“So beautiful,” you whispered. Hyunjin smiled softly, moving closer towards you on the bench and wrapped an arm around your waist.

While fondly looking at your visage, he muttered. “Yeah, it’s pretty.”

“How’d you find this place?”

“I found it while I was walking one night,” he explained, resting his head on yours. You could smell his shampoo in this closeness. “I was sad. This garden reminded me of the one we used to go to when we were kids.”

Your heart swelled at the confession.

“It does resemble that one a lot.”

The skies were still drizzling rain, but you were both a little sheltered much thanks to the oak tree above you. Only droplets dripped, falling onto your head but it was a nice sensation. Besides, you couldn’t feel the cold when you’re nuzzled in Hyunjin’s arm, blanketed in his familiar warmth. You allowed silence to third-wheel you, eyes busied with observing the sight. Silence was always comfortable with Hyunjin. The time spent apart hadn’t changed that.

He wouldn’t leave you alone, his skin constantly touching yours. It burned against you. You didn’t mind it. Instead, you basked in his love, listening to the sounds of his heartbeats as your head rested on his chest. He intertwined your fingers together, his thumb rubbing against yours. He wouldn’t let go of you, not even when he bent down to pluck a flower, slipping the daffodil onto your ear.

“I missed you,” he murmured. You weren’t sure how much he’d repeated that phrase but you liked it. “I truly did.”

For the thousandth time that night, you responded. “I missed you too.”

The conversation changed into one about your lives, catching up on each other’s shenanigans. It was comfortable, being with Hyunjin. Topics changed seamlessly. You didn’t have to put much effort into talking to him, you just had to be there.

Softly, his hands moved towards your feet, taking off one of your shoes. He held onto your ankle, tracing his pointer across your sole. You giggled, the feather-like touches tickled.

“You still have the feet of a ballerina.”

“Of course, silly,” you scoffed, “I am one after all.”

“I’m so glad that your dreams came true,” he whispered, putting your leg down. He cupped your cheek, showcasing a fond smile that stretched to his ears. “I’m really happy that you’re here.”

“Of course,” you repeated. “You told me you’d be wherever I am. It’s only fair I returned the favour.”

The words knocked out Hyunjin’s breath, and it filled his soul with so much adoration, he felt like he could burst. A pleading expression was written all over his porcelain visage, the way in which he squeezed your hand expressing his feelings even more.

“Please,” he pleaded. “I need to be yours.”

You kissed him, for the second time that night.

“I’m already yours, Hyunnie.”

twelve.

Things with Hyunjin had been going exceptionally well.

After the fated night, you carried on with so much happiness that you practically beamed everywhere you went. One time when you clocked into work, the Double C’s made kissy noises at you, and Charlotte had whispered, “You must’ve had crazy good sex last night.”

You couldn’t deny it, of course.

Date nights with Hyunjin happened thrice a week, with coffee runs in between classes. The Paris Ballet School and Beaux-Arts de Paris weren’t that far from each other, allowing you to sneak lunches together almost daily. Though you had to admit that even if the universities were far, Hyunjin definitely wouldn’t mind spending extra time just to see you. Sometimes, he’d watch you dance, and sometimes, you’d watch him paint.

It was like you were both making up for the lack of each other the past three years.

After just two weeks of your relationship, you were acquainted with the comfort of Hyunjin’s home. His roommate was barely home, so you felt comfortable with coming over often. Most weekends, you’d spend the night over.

Morning birds chirped a jolly ballad, waking you from your slumber. You stretched, feeling the heat of Hyunjin’s skin against yours. You couldn’t help the smile that grazed your face when you looked at him, fast asleep under the duvets beside you. Sleepily, you pressed a kiss onto his bare shoulder, then traced the memories of last night, tattooed on his skin in the form of bruises. It pulled a whine from him, moving under the duvet to press himself impossibly closer towards you.

“Flower,” he mumbled, morning voice husky, “I'm cold.”

“Then come cuddle.”

He did as told, wrapping strong arms around you. You felt his fingers ghost against your naked spine, sending heat straight to your core. You couldn't help the whimper that left you, earning a playful grin from your boyfriend.

“It's too early to get in the mood, no? Baby?”

Flushed, you smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

Hyunjin giggled, leaning towards you to press kisses onto your face. Mornings with him were often spent like this — limbs entangled, as if you were one.

“Need to shower, baby,” he sighed, “Have an exhibition today.”

To your dismay, he slowly pulled away from you, missing the warmth of his body.

“You coming to the exposition?”

“Of course,” you hummed. “Go shower. Can I borrow your laptop while you're in the shower?”

“Yeah, baby. The password's your birthday.”

He got up from the bed, and you flushed as you looked at his bare body. Unluckily for you, your boyfriend quickly noticed your flushed face, taking it as an opportunity to throw a pillow at you and call you a pervert. You rolled your eyes, watching him enter the bathroom before getting up, wrapping the duvet around your naked body.

You walked towards his study to retrieve his laptop, smiling at the artworks displayed on his peg board. One was of you — a painting of the Polaroid he took of you back in the meadow. The Polaroid itself sat at the back of his phone case. He had never taken it out since the first time he put it in back then.

Whilst humming to a melody, you kicked in the digits of your birthday. The laptop unlocked, showcasing the unclosed tabs.

Your eyes widened at the words written on the screen.

Congratulations, you've been chosen for a student exchange programme to Rome.

Your heart skipped a beat. Repeatedly, your eyes skimmed the words on the screen. You didn't mean to pry but you scrolled through the email, feeling your heart sink upon seeing the date it was sent.

Over a week ago.

Yet Hyunjin hadn't told you anything.

After all these years, he was still keeping secrets from you. You couldn't handle it, and so for the sake of your heart you exited the tab, and shut down the laptop. Careful as to not make much noise, you got dressed.

“Hyunjin,” you knocked on the bathroom door. “Need to be at the academy now. Bye.”

You needed to be away from him — you needed to clear your head.

thirteen.

You hadn't seen Hyunjin for a week.

The texts from him you didn't avoid, responding each time he sent a message. However, you'd been dodging his requests of meeting, under the guise of practice when in truth, you hadn’t gone for classes in a week. You spent your days moping in your apartment.

Perhaps it was a little childish of you to do, but you couldn't bear the thought of going through what you did before. You'd tasted a life without Hyunjin, and you were certain you didn't want to live through it again. This was your way of mentally preparing for that life again.

Your limbs lazily stretched across the cotton duvet as a vinyl played in the background. A melodramatic song played, matching the current tune of your heart. You weren't entirely sure what time it was, but the sound of the apartment bell ringing hinted that it was afternoon. It must be the takeout your roommate ordered.

“Reine,” a familiar voice reverberated in your apartment. “Where's Yn?”

“In her bedroom,” your roommate, Reine replied in her thick French accent. “She's been in there moping all week.”

Damn you, Reine.

Quickly, you buried yourself in your duvet, anticipating the footsteps which approached your room. Soon, your door swung open, and you could smell the white gardenia in his cologne.

“My flower,” his voice tempted you to look, “What’s going on, sweet girl?”

It didn’t help that each syllable that slipped past his lips felt like honey.

You felt his hands pull down your duvet before you came face to face with your boyfriend. He stood before you, hair slicked back and the white blouse he wore accentuated his shoulders. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers, patches of peonies and daffodils peeking from the wrapper.

You didn’t utter any words, simply looking at him with watery doe eyes. He didn’t miss the glint of tears, immediately setting the bouquet on your nightstand to get onto the bed. Tenderly, he pulled you onto his lap.

“You look so sad,” he mumbled, “Can my sweet girl please tell me why she’s so sad?”

Damn, him. How were you supposed to stand a chance when he was so ridiculously handsome and sweet?

Trembling, you parted your lips to speak.

“You’re hiding things from me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What things, baby?”

Your eyes shot daggers at him, bottom lip forming into a pout. Hyunjin had to stop himself from leaning in and biting it.

“You got offered to an exchange student programme,” you finally bit the bullet. “You’re planning on keeping it a secret and just leaving me again, aren’t you?”

Ah.

Hyunjin’s eyes softened. He sighed, caressing your cheek in his hand. He shook his head as his free hand rested on your thigh, massaging the supple skin.

“No, I’m rejecting it,” he answered. “I didn’t tell you because I thought there was no point in telling you if I didn’t even want to go.”

“What?” you responded, voice a little higher than you intended it to be. Your eyes scanned his for any lies. “Hyunjin — it’s a good opportunity.”

“What, you don’t want me here anymore?” he joked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Baby, Paris is already enough for me. I don’t really want to move again.”

You nodded at his words. A huge part of you felt relieved — and you felt awful for feeling that way.

Love, sometimes, is about being selfish after all.

“Were you sad because you thought I was going?” your boyfriend queried, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You shrugged. “A little. I was more mad that you didn’t tell me.”

“Oh,” he nodded, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, I just didn’t mention it because it felt insignificant.”

“I want you to tell me things,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck. It left goosebumps in its wake. “I want to know these things.”

“Okay," he mumbled. Something about his compliance made you feel fonder of him. "I'll start telling you these things."

A sigh of relief left your lips. You had known Hyunjin for years, but being with him was different. A good kind of difference. It would take you a while to adjust to these changes — but it was the kind of changes you'd want to adjust to.

Hyunjin's fingers trailed to your hips, ghosting over your skin until they reached your thighs. He traced the stretch marks there, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You couldn't help the whine that left your mouth, and the heat that arose, tainting the tips of your ears in crimson. Hyunjin enjoyed this — flustering you with his ministrations. He allowed you to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, whimpering as he felt your lips litter kisses on his most sensitive spots.

"I love you," he confessed, like honey dripping from lips. "Promise I'll be wherever you are."

taglist: @zoe8stay , @starlostseungmin , @starlostlaiba , @hwajin , @sleepyleeji , @skizzel-reblogs, @jdopes-recorder , @sherryblossom , @cb97whoree , @alyszaen , @aaliyahxsx , @jeonginsyoungestsibling , @hyunluvxo , @bokk-minnie , @ghostyycat7 , @fortunatelyhertragedy @yongbokkari @ameliesaysshoo @seoli-16 @jisungsdaydreamer @soobnny @seolboba @in2heartz @jehhskz @astraystayyh @mnwrld

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evermore-fashion · 3 months

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Did I make a mistake?

As you're all well aware of I said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr thinking my decision was final. However after reading all your wonderful messages I started to have doubts about my decision. So for the last few weeks I've been trying to pinpoint why I thought I had fallen out of love with high end fashion as well as Tumblr itself and the answer has been in front of my face for the best part of four years. A broken down friendship that has been plaguing my mental health… until recently and I'm going to finally explain why. I had a best friend for the best part of 15 years that went downhill both slowly and unexpectedly. We met on a forum back in 2005 and hit it off instantly. We then met up and went on various holidays, attended concerts together, did mini weekend breaks away and got to know each other's families really well. More importantly they were the only person in my life who knew about this blog and shared my love for high end fashion. Like most friendships though it had its ups and downs but no matter what we always gravitated back towards one another, until March 2020. A week or so before COVID and lockdown took hold of our lives they told me they had met someone. I was genuinely happy for them, except for the fact they had let slip that I was the last person to know. This broke my heart and their trust as they continued to let slip more details that indicated that I was being pushed out in favour of a new crowd (aka university friends who they had told me they disliked a few months beforehand) alongside their new partner. They stayed with their partner on and off throughout COVID and I was either pushed out the door or let back in depending on their relationship status. The relationship came to an end for good towards the end of 2022 and as always I was let back into their life with plans for 2023 being made. However I held back knowing the hurt it would cause me if things suddenly changed again. This was also my breaking point with them as I wanted to protect my heart from anymore hurt, and I believe this is where my love for creativity began to faulter. Whilst I found my love for gaming I felt this mental block around Evermore-Fashion and Evermore-Grimoire which I thought was down to my passions changing. I was clearly wrong. The friendship was up and down for another six months, until last summer. They had got back in contact with me despite the fact they had started acting cold towards me which manifested in a crap Christmas and Birthday. Yet I was still willing to hear their side of the story, but it never came as they ghosted me and I haven't spoken to them since which hasn't been fun to deal with both mentally and emotionally. Although I now fully believe this is what was killing my spirit and everything I had loved for so long. Anyway fast forward to January 2024, I've said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr when lo and behold I come across a social media post that changed everything. The ex friend had written something personal that contradicted everything they had told me (over their relationship break up) which not only angered me but it lit a fire under my butt to stop stewing in the "what ifs?" as well as holding on to a small bit of hope that they'd finally apologise for treating me like a piece of shit on the back of their shoe for so long. Not only that but I started to miss why I enjoyed being online in the first place. I checked out Vogue to see what was occurring during Paris Fashion Week and I yearned to share the Spring 2024 Couture collections on Tumblr (even though I still think it's still a toxic cesspit). Yes I could easily start this up on Wordpress or Instagram but let's face it, Tumblr is still the easiest place to start blogging creatively. So here I am. The fog surrounding my love for fashion has lifted alongside the mental and emotional baggage I've been holding on to for far too long. There's just one thing I'm still wondering though… do you guys forgive me (as I feel like I've messed you all around ) and is it okay to come back? 🥹

#Personal #Hello again

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asahicore · 4 months

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bad news first - sjy (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact pairing. jake x fem!reader synopsis. From the moment you'd met at eight to the day he moved to South Korea at fourteen, you and Jake were inseparable. But after years of being apart, you've come to terms with the fact that at twenty, you and Jake just aren't what you used to be. That is until you get a text from him, and all of a sudden, he's back by your side, doing his year abroad at the university you study at, and all your feelings for him float back up to the surface. genre. college au, childhood friends to ???? to lovers, painful mutual pining, one bed trope..... a sprinkle of angst (my hand slipped) but mostly fluff i promise and smut (mdni!!!), also i made sunghoon really weird in this and idkw, this is set in scotland.. edinburgh uni rep!! word count. 23k author's note. everybody say happy belated birthday to @zreamy.. happy belated birthday zo!!! being 22 years and 6 days old is cooler than just 22 years old anyway.. hope you like it bestie... if you dont... well theres a building on campus thats 17 stories high sooo.. enjoy! i hope everyone else enjoys too, since this is a bday fic for zo she couldnt beta read so i had to raw dog this so if its terrible.. not my fault! lmk what u think!! i also made a playlist for this, do listen along!!

“Alright kids, good news or bad news first?”

You looked at your teacher, then at the boy next to you, then back at your teacher. “Bad news first,” you said in unison.

You were only eight, but you were both wise enough to know that hearing good news second would assuage the blow of whatever these bad news were. Miss Dawson sighed as she crouched in front of you. “The bad news is your bus driver is on strike and won’t be coming. The good news is that your parents have been informed and are coming to pick you up soon.”

Following her instructions, you headed to the gymnasium and sat there silently among the other kids. Not many kids in your class rode the bus home, and the ones who did seemed to have drivers not on strike, so it was just the two of you. You were used to that, though - over January and February, you had made a sort of silent pact to stand and wait for the bus together. You sometimes shared snacks, but you never spoke. For some reason, you felt at ease with this boy, even though you didn’t know much about him. You had heard he had moved to Brisbane just at the start of this year, all the way from South Korea. You were pretty sure his name was Jake.

You handed him one of your Twix bars. Then he spoke. “I thought a strike was when you did really well in bowling.”

“Same,” you replied, mouth full of chocolate and caramel. “I’m not sure why that would keep the bus driver from picking us up.”

Jake looked at you with wide eyes, distress clear in them. “Do you think he went bowling instead of picking us up?”

This made you frown. “That’d be really rude.”

“It would. I always make sure to go bowling on the weekends, ‘cause if I missed school that’d be rude to Miss Dawson.”

You nodded your head in fervent agreement. “For sure.”

That weekend, his mum called your mum to ask if you wanted to go to the bowling alley with them. From then on, for the next six years, you were stuck together by glue.

Twelve years later, Jake’s name appearing on your phone screen has become such a rare sight, you don’t believe it right away. It takes you a few seconds of intense squinting at the letters to actually realise your eyes aren’t deceiving you.

jake.sim15 hey y/n!! you go to edinburgh uni right?

You type and delete three different responses before settling for a simple yeah, I am! what’s up?, hoping you sounded nonchalant even though you very much felt chalant. You thought that whatever you sent wouldn’t be as weird as taking forever to answer such a straightforward question.

As you wait for Jake’s reply, you scroll through your previous shared messages, noting with sadness that for three years in a row, the only instances you’d texted were to wish each other a happy birthday or when he reacted with a fire emoji to Stories of your dog, Milo. Before that, your last conversation was to congratulate each other about getting into your top choice universities and to discuss plans for your respective futures.

Futures that used to include each other, you think. His reply appears at the bottom of your screen before melancholy can fill your heart.

jake.sim15 i applied to go there for my year abroad next year annnnd i got in !! heh

You shoot up straight from your seat on the lounge chaise you’d been sunbathing on, a loud “Oh my God!” involuntarily escaping your mouth.

“What? What happened? Is everything okay?” Chaewon asks frantically, rushing over to your side. “Oh,” she says when she sees your phone. “It’s a text… from a boy?”

This makes Yunjin, previously unbothered by your panic, rise from her seat and take off her sunglasses. “A boy? Show me,” she demands, snatching your phone from your hands before you can protest. Upon seeing the texts on your screen, she lets out a loud gasp. “It’s not just any boy! It’s the one and only Jake Sim himself.”

“Give that back!” you plead, hand reaching for your phone, but Yunjin is already walking away.

“And he’s coming to Edi this September, apparently. He says he’s sorry for not saying anything earlier, but he was waiting for an answer up until now.” She scoffs. “Leave it to our uni to tell someone they’re in less than two months before term starts. Oh, you’re the first person he’s told, Y/N! After his parents. How cute,” she coos, protesting when you snatch your phone back from her. “Hey! I was reading that.”

“Those are my texts, Yunjin. I’m the one who’s meant to read them.”

She shrugs. “You would’ve told us anyway.”

“What are you going to reply?” Chaewon asks. With the both of them hovering over your shoulders and watching as you type a response, a sort of stage fright comes over you, making you send what might be the most unoriginal reply known to man.

“Awesome? Seriously, Y/N?” Yunjin reads, disproportionately disgusted with you.

“That’s a lot of exclamation marks. It almost makes it look like you don’t mean it,” Chaewon says.

“I do mean it!”

“Well, he seems to like it. A smiling-with-teeth emoji is a good sign, right?” she asks in an attempt to make you feel better.

“He has automatic caps off. That man is run-through,” Yunjin says, shaking her head as she walks back to her sunbed.

“You were excited about him texting me just a second ago,” you reproach.

“Yeah, before I found out he was a whore.”

“Yunjin, you know we don't slut-shame here!” Chaewon exclaims. Before Yunjin can say anything even worse in response, your phone starts ringing, and Jake’s name appears on your screen. “He’s calling you?” Chaewon gasps, making Yunjin sit up with a start for the second time in less than five minutes.

“This man is insane,” she remarks with all the seriousness in the world.

You run away from your friends, finding refuge in the outside kitchen area out of earshot. They don’t need to hear your conversation with Jake. You love them, but they can be weirdly unsupportive in moments like these.

“Hey, Jake,” you greet, hoping he doesn’t notice the breathlessness in your voice. It was because you had just ran, of course - you didn’t want him to think you were so nervous about talking to him after such a long time, you could barely breathe. Because you weren’t. At all.

“Hey, Y/N!” he replies, and the excitement in his voice makes your heart melt. “I hope it’s not weird that I called, I just thought it’d be nicer than texting, is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s nice to hear your voice,” you say before you can really think about it, and cringe at your own words. Years without talking and the world’s worst line is the first thing you say to Jake. Thankfully, before you start excruciating yourself, a chuckle pours out of Jake’s throat and blesses your ears.

“It’s nice to hear your voice, too. What are you up to?”

“Oh, I’m on vacation with my friends. One of them has a rich aunt who owns a villa in southern Italy, so we’re just chilling by the pool right now.”

“You always wanted to go to Italy! That sounds so nice,” he says. Your breath catches gently in your throat - he remembers, you note.

“Yeah, it really is. What about you, how are you spending the summer?”

Jake tells you about the local bookstore owned by a grandpa that’s always had a soft spot for him and that gave him a part-time job for the summer. “I’m trying to save up as much money as I can before I leave. If I treat you to a meal, will you show me around the city?” he asks, and you can hear the grin in his voice. It makes you realise how much you’ve actually missed him.

“You don’t need to treat me to a meal, I’ll show you around anyway.”

Still, he insists, and you find yourself giving in quickly - because it’s Jake or because free food is on the table, you’re not sure. Probably both.

You and Jake get to talking, but fitting years and years of catching up into one conversation is an impossible task, and before you know it, when you check your phone, you’ve been talking for over an hour. Yunjin is angrily waving at you, pointing at her stomach to indicate hunger like a caveman who’s just learned how to communicate. You apologise to Jake, telling him you have to go, and plan to meet during fresher’s week before you hang up.

A few hours later, you get a text from him saying it was nice talking to you and jokingly asking whether Yunjin was satisfied with lunch. It’s innocuous, but it opens a gate for more texting, which leads to long, rambling voice messages, which leads to late-night phone calls that remind you of when you were fifteen and still kept in touch. When August fades into September, you feel like you’ve got your best friend back.

You remember why you were so in love with him at fourteen.

You see Jake before he sees you.

Among the throngs of people, you manage to spot the dark, messy flop of hair on his head weighed down by a nice pair of wireless headphones. After a thirteen-hour flight from Seoul, a four-hour layover in Frankfurt and a final, two-hour flight to Edinburgh, he looks rightfully exhausted, using what looks like the last of his energy to spot the exit and the airport bus stop. Even wearing a simple denim jacket, white tee and grey sweatpants, he’s so gorgeous you forget what you came here for, until he almost walks right past you without seeing you. You put yourself in his path and hold your hand-written banner up, making yourself as obvious as you can as you call out his name.

When he sees you, he stops dead in his tracks for a second, someone almost running into him before he remembers the crowd behind him. His tired features break out into a bright smile that has your heartbeat speeding up so much, you think it might run out of your chest.

He had told you not to come, that it would be late for you and he didn’t want to bother you, but you had managed to get the information of his arrival before he forbade you from picking him up so you did it anyway, wanting to surprise him. After years of being apart, rather than waiting another day, you wanted to see him as soon as possible.

Jake briskly makes his way to you, dropping his bags next to him on the floor as he engulfs you in a hug, warm and tight as if he’s trying to make up for all those years. You hug him back as if someone would appear out of thin air and take him away from you again.

“This was the longest day of my life, I’m so happy to see you,” he says when he pulls away, and you’re so happy you can’t even say anything back, resorting to giggling and lightly swatting non-existent dust off of his shoulders.

As you wait for the bus, he tells you about every trivial thing that happened to him on his trip, from how expensive a sandwich is at the airport to the German kid sitting in front of him that kept turning around to stare at him on his second flight.

“How did you know he was German?” you ask, amused.

Jake pauses. “Just vibes.”

Conversation on the bus is slightly disjointed as you jump from topic to topic with random pauses here and there before one of you finds something to talk about - but it’s okay, you hadn’t expected for the two of you to be as easy as before. It’s more awe at seeing each other after such a long time than awkwardness. Even though you’d caught up over summer, there was a world of difference between speaking on the phone and actually sitting next to him. You notice things like the shine of his hair, the creases that form on the sides of his lips when he smiles, or, unfortunately for you, the veins that run along his forearms and hands - things you hadn’t noticed previously thanks to the sometimes questionable quality of the front camera of his phone. Once in a while, your thigh brushes against his, and it reminds you that he’s really here. Even that he’s real, at all.

In a tragic turn of events, Jake lives in the student accommodation you used to live in in first year, and coming back to it two years later is slightly traumatising. His three-person flat is in a different building as your old one, and you marvel at how it somehow still smells the same - like dusty, decade-old carpeting and the permanent stench of students’ dubitable cooking. He’s the first one to move in, which makes the place slightly eerie, but it means that you’re not bothering anyone by unpacking Jake’s stuff and cooking Shin Ramyun the previous tenants had left behind at 11pm.

Your late dinner was meant for you to take a small break, watch a couple episodes of Friends which Jake had been shocked to learn you’d never watched, and you had been shocked to learn he was a die-hard fan of (since one year ago), then get back to unpacking. But the ramen sends an already exhausted Jake into a food coma so intense, he falls asleep on your shoulder five minutes into the second episode.

You let him sleep as long as he needs, turning the volume down on his laptop and stifling your chuckles as much as you can. You feel like a cat has fallen asleep in your lap - you are now obliged by law to stay still until Jake wakes up. It’s not until an hour later that Jake’s uncomfortable sleeping position forces him awake, lifting his head off of your shoulder with a grunt. He looks around himself, at his room that’s not quite familiar to him yet, then at you, eyes still scrunched with sleepiness as a grin blooms onto his lips.

“Sorry,” clearing his throat of its grogginess. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost one a.m,” you reply, and his eyes go wide.

“You should’ve woken me up! Does your shoulder hurt?” he asks, much more alarmed than he should be, and it makes you laugh.

“It’s all good. But now that you’re awake, I should probably head home.”

“I’ll get you an Uber,” he says, already pulling out his phone.

“It’s fine, Jake, my place is a ten-minute walk from here. I live just up the road.”

Jake’s fingers on his phone pause as he looks up at you. “Then I’ll walk you home.” He lifts a finger in warning when he sees you start to protest. “And don’t fight me on this. You did so much today, it’s the least I can do.”

As much as you love the idea of spending more time with Jake, even if it’s just ten minutes, you still don’t want to bother him when you know how tired he is. “It’s really safe around here. I can just text you when I’m home, if you’re worried about me getting kidnapped or something,” you say, taking his jacket from his hands and placing it back on his desk chair.

He grabs it back, putting it on before you can take it from him again, and rummages through one of his suitcases for a black, woolly scarf. Neither of you speaks as he wraps it tight around your neck, even though the early September weather isn’t cold enough to warrant it. His hands stop briefly on the scarf and a small smile spreads on his lips. You hope he doesn’t hear your sharp intake of breath when your eyes meet. “It’s not about that,” he says simply, voice low and unlike you’ve ever heard it before. You don’t think his voice had quite finished cracking when he’d moved away back then.

Suddenly, he steps away, grabs his keys, and heads for the door. “Let’s go!” he says, voice back to its usual cheery tone. You don’t find it in you to question him, so you just follow him out, welcoming the night breeze that cools down your burning cheeks with open arms.

The walk to your place is mostly done in comfortable silence, but it still goes by too quickly for your liking. You keep your hands in your pockets to prevent yourself from doing something stupid, like reaching out for Jake’s hand that swishes back-and-forth as he walks. Instead, you bury your nose in his scarf and relish in the unfamiliar but comforting smell that his cologne has left behind on the fabric. You hug goodbye when you reach your flat, and you have to remind yourself to let go. He insists on you keeping the scarf. “My mum packed me, like, three, so you can have that one.”

“Your mum still pack your things for you, does she?” you ask, tone playful.

“No-” he says, voice slightly whiny, before he realises you’re just teasing him. “Whatever,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. You hope the streetlights aren’t bright enough for him to notice the flustered look on your face. The both of you stand there awkwardly for a second, before he lets out another chuckle. “Right. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you beam.

“Okay,” he says, but still doesn’t make a move to leave. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll be off then.” He gives you one last smile then turns around, burying his hands in his pockets, and you watch as he walks away.

“Get home safe,” you call out after a few seconds.

He pivots on his heels, and, with a wave of his hand, says, “I will! Go inside.”

“Good night!”

“Night, Y/N!”

When you walk into your living room, Yunjin is sitting on the couch, arms crossed over her chest, gaze trained on the wall opposite her, one lamp lighting the otherwise completely dark room. She looks like a detective in one of those bad cop shows.

“Gosh, what’s all this for?”

“You’re back awfully late,” she says, neither looking at you nor answering your question.

“Yeah, I was with Jake,” you shrug, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water. She abruptly gets up from her seat, following you into the other room and staying close behind you.

“And?” she demands, mouth way too close to your ear and making you start.

“And what?” you ask.

“What do you mean and what?!” she says, clearly agitated. “I want to know everything!”

“There’s nothing to say, really. He seemed happy I picked him up from the airport, then I helped him unpack. He lives in Riego, by the way.”

“Ew.”

“I know, it was awful going back there.”

The two of you stare at each other as you drink your water. “Well?” she asks.

“What?”

“Is that it?”

You fill your glass again to take it into your bedroom. “I don’t know, we just ate and watched Friends.”

“You hate shows with laughing tracks,” she states like it’s an accusation.

“It wasn’t actually that bad,” you reply, shrugging.

She tuts. “Love will do ugly, ugly things to a person.”

“You’ve been in a loving relationship for the past two years.”

“This isn’t about me. Can we talk about how you’re still in love with the same loser from when you were ten?”

“I was fourteen, and don’t call Jake a loser when you haven’t even met him.” You ignore the roll of her eyes. “And I’m not. Not anymore. I’m just happy to have my friend back.” Yunjin gives you a look. “Okay, maybe I’m still a little bit in love with him. But it’s so little, it’s barely there.” Her expression is unchangingly unimpressed and you can’t help but throw in the towel. “Alright, fine. I still love him, what about it?”

“You’re pathetic.”

“I know that, no need to remind me.”

“Are you gonna do something about it?”

“My patheticness? I’ve tried, didn’t really work.”

“No, idiot, about Jake. You should go and get him! It’d be so sexy if you got together as 20-somethings after knowing each other since you were babies.”

“We were eight when we met. And I don’t know if sexy is the word I’d use here.”

“Anything is sexy if you try hard enough,” she says, and you have to laugh. “Anyways, you should confess your undying love and tell him you’ve felt that way since you met.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Guys might not show it, but they probably get all hot for stuff like that. Boosts their ego and shit.”

“Yunjin, I just got my friend back, I’m not gonna risk it. Plus, who knows, I might not actually be in love with him. It might just be my emotions acting up, like, seeing someone I used to like after a while. We’ve both changed so much, once I get to know him more now, I might not even feel the way I used to.”

“Notice how you’ve used the word might twice in ten seconds? You’re just trying to find excuses.”

You groan. “This is why I hate English Lit people.”

“You do English Lit.”

“I know, and I’m the only nice person that does it.” In your head, you add and Jake, but saying it out loud would only make this conversation worse for you.

“What’s that scarf, by the way? Did he give you that?”

You look down at the scarf like it’s a piece of incriminating evidence. “Can you stop grilling me, please? It’s late.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

You sighed deeply. “Fine. Yes, he gave me-”

“It’s not even that cold outside!” she exclaimed in an outrage. “Don’t tell me he also walked you home?”

You pause. “He did.”

She gasped. “He walked you home because he’s in love with you.”

“He walked me home because he’s a good friend that looks after me.”

“He walked you home because he realised how hot you’ve gotten and he wants some of that.”

All you can do is sigh. “Whatever. I’m going to bed.”

“If you weren’t such a coward, you wouldn’t be going to bed alone.”

“Whatever!” you say, shutting the door behind you, shaking that preposterous conversation out of your head. When you get into bed, it takes you at least half-an-hour before you can settle down, but you know your constant tossing and turning isn’t due to your inability to find a comfortable enough position to sleep in. Between your evening with Jake and Yunjin’s pestering, thoughts run wild and incoherent through your head.

You want to tell her every little thing that happened with Jake tonight, but you’re afraid it might do you more harm than good. She is most definitely the type of friend who will take the smallest action a guy did for you or the most meaningless thing he might have said and turn it into a sign that he has the hots for you, which usually does wonders for your confidence, but right now, you don’t need that kind of delusion. Did seeing your childhood best friend you used to secretly harbour feelings for make you feel some type of way? Of course, but that doesn’t mean you still love him after all this time, after six years of being apart, the majority of those years spent with no contact. It wasn’t like you parted ways with resentment, or anything of that sort, far from it; rather, you drifted apart naturally, as two teenagers with over 7000 kilometres between them would. At first, you’d call frequently and even write each other letters - but as you became more preoccupied with school, friends, and extracurriculars, your phones gradually rang less and your mailboxes became gradually emptier. You don’t even remember who sent the last, unanswered letter.

Tonight isn’t the first time you replay the moment Jake announced that he would go away, but it’s the first time it’s a bittersweet memory. It used to only be bitter - but now that you’ve reconnected, you can look back at it with fondness, wishing you could tell fourteen-year-old you the hurt would only last so long.

It hadn’t started unusually.

“So, bad news first, right?”

In your six years of friendship with Jake, this had been the first time you’d really been wary of what he would say next. The look on his face told you that this bad news wouldn’t be as easy to shake off as usual. Your definition of bad news was things like I got grounded so I can’t hang out, I forgot we had a test tomorrow so I can’t hang out, my allergies are acting up again so I can’t hang out.

“I’m moving to Korea next month.”

I’m on another continent, so I can’t hang out.

You remember the words not quite making sense at the time. “Oh? How long are you staying there?” you said, taking a bite of your strawberry ice cream which Jake had insisted on paying for, even though you knew he didn’t get much allowance.

“Forever.”

You stopped chewing, and the ice cream melted uncomfortably in your mouth. You don’t know how long you stayed there, frozen as you stared at your best friend in disbelief. It wasn’t until he lightly shoved your shoulder, only meeting your eyes for a split second, that you remembered to swallow and to say something.

“Forever as in… You won’t live here anymore? At all?”

Jake shook his head. He kept his eyes trained on the vanilla-chocolate ice cream sandwich he’d left in its wrapper. In the blazing hot Brisbane summer, it had probably fully melted two minutes ago. “At all.”

“Oh,” was all you found yourself able to say. For some reason, you hoped that continuing to eat your ice cream would stop you from crying, but to no avail. Hot, salty tears quickly started raining down your cheeks, mixing with the sweetness of your ice cream when they reached your lips.

“It’s my dad’s work. Same reason why I moved here when we were kids in the first place. They wanted him here then, they want him back there now. We just have to follow,” Jake explained, sounding just as upset as you felt.

“Right.”

“Are you mad at me?” Jake asked, worry clear in his voice, and finally turned to face you. At the sight of you crying, he let out a small oh, tears of his own pooling in his eyes.

You frowned. “Of course not. I’m never mad at you, you know that. I just… You’re my best friend, Jakey. It’s gonna be so lame around here without you.”

“It’ll be lame there without you, too.”

You attempted a smile. “Well, of course. But at least you’ll get to make new friends, see new places. You’ll be in a whole other country, I’m sure you’ll have fun there. I’m gonna be stuck in boring old Brisbane for the foreseeable future.”

“Do you know how offended our friends would be if they heard you speaking right now?” he asked, nudging your shoulder with his.

You sniffled and let out a chuckle. “They’re all great, but… I don’t like them nearly as much as I like you,” you said, staring down at your hands, hoping he wouldn’t realise exactly what you meant by that statement.

A weight was lifted off of your shoulders when Jake answered. “I like you the most too, Y/N.” You tried not to think too much about whether he’d meant it platonically or romantically - none of that mattered anymore. All that mattered was the feeling of his arms around you, his warmth enveloping your whole body, his familiar scent that you already missed.

You felt him take a deep breath against you before he pulled away. He sniffled and did his best to put on a smile. “Right, enough of that. I’m not leaving until next month, so don’t think you’re rid of me just yet,” he joked, and it helped alleviate the weight on your heart, even if just a little. “You said you had something to tell me? Good news after bad news, and all that.”

“Oh. Right. I forgot about that.”

You thought for a second. Today was the day you had planned to confess your feelings to Jake - you’d only told him you had good news to share. But what was the point now that he was leaving? If he felt the same way, it would only make his departure that much harder, and if he didn’t, it would ruin your last moments together. It just wasn’t worth it.

Jake tilted his head, waiting for you to speak. In a split second, you made yourself forget your disappointment over having built the courage to tell him how you felt only for it all to fall through, and resolved to make the most of Jake’s last month here. You wiped your tears and mirrored his small smile as best you could. “Um, it wasn’t anything much. My mum made those cowboy cookies you like.”

Jake’s head fell back as he groaned in anticipation. “If she wasn’t happily married with three kids, I’d marry your mum. Let’s go right now.”

You laughed. “There’d be a bit of an age gap there.”

“We’d make it work,” Jake joked, throwing his arm around your shoulders as you walked towards your house. He beamed down at you, his bright, boyish smile that you loved to bits, and you beamed up at him as you grabbed the hand that hung off your shoulder in your own.

You walked as happily as you could. “Do you even speak Korean?” you suddenly asked.

Jake halted abruptly in his steps, a gravely offended look on his face. When you looked back at him in confusion, he rolled his eyes and started walking again, pulling you with him. “It’s literally my mother tongue, Y/N. I speak it every day at home.”

“Oh, right.”

At the time, you thought nothing could come between you and Jake. Not anyone, not anything, neither distance nor time. But they did. A week after he’d left, a boy from your class you’d talked to maybe once or twice asked you out on a date. You weren’t sure why, but you said yes. Then you said yes to being his girlfriend, even though you didn’t like him all that much, and you even said yes to reducing your texting with Jake because it made him jealous. When you’d broken up with him and wanted to catch up with Jake and apologise for your absence, you’d found that his new school in Seoul was a lot more demanding than yours in Brisbane, and he had to spend most of his evenings in academies if he wanted to get into a nice university. It’s when you learned that he’d be staying in South Korea for college that you decided to leave Australia too. Brisbane was a lot less fun without him there - why bother staying? You couldn’t go to him because of the language barrier and the cost of university there. If you were to essentially uproot your life, might as well go somewhere you could get a scholarship and understand the people around you.

It seemed insane that someone you had thought would be by your side for the rest of your life, someone that was part of your most cherished memories, had been reduced to someone you casually texted once in a while. It seems even more insane that now that you’re finally done essentially grieving your friendship with Jake, he stands in front of you again, six inches taller but still donning those puppy-like eyes and smile of his.

For your sake, you just hoped you wouldn’t be as in love with him at twenty as you were at fourteen.

The next day, you show Jake around campus, which wouldn’t normally take more than ten minutes, but takes double that time because of the sheer amount of people there. Between the Societies Fair taking up most of the square, the tour guides leading freshers, walking slowly and taking in their new campus, and the pizza and drinks stands, freshers’ week always turns campus into what feels like the busiest place on Earth. You try not to let it hit a nerve for Jake’s sake, who’s clearly ecstatic at all the activity, but you like this place a lot more when it’s quieter. You walk through the Fair, laughing as Jake marvels at all the different clubs and societies at the Uni.

“Gardening Society? Dungeons & Dragons Society? Wine society?” he exclaims, astonishment growing with every passing stand.

“And this is only the first day. They also have a Taylor Swift Society.” He grabs a flyer from about every society, even though you know he’ll join between two to zero of them.

When you walk out, there’s a girl handing out samples of shampoo and conditioner, and you let her give you one, more out of politeness than anything.

“These are so useless,” you start, and Jake chuckles, unaware of the incoming rant. “I had that job of distributing them last year, and we would get a tip if we gave them all out. So naturally I put a bunch in my bag, but then I had to use them for like two weeks.” You sigh. “First of all, my hair did not like it. And second, the ratio is so off. There’s way more conditioner than shampoo when it should be the other way around, so you have to condition your hair even though it’s not properly clean. So stupid.”

“Sounds terrible,” Jake says, laughing. “Is that why you’re not doing it this year?”

“Oh… Not really. I dated the guy that takes care of this promo stuff, so it would’ve been kinda awkward…” you trail, immediately wishing you could backtrack on conversation. Talking about your ex with Jake wasn’t on your to-do list for today. Or ever.

“You dated your boss?”

“The manager, yeah, I guess. He was only 24, though, don’t worry.”

“I’m more worried about the power imbalance than the age gap there.”

You shrug, looking down at your shoes. “It’s not like he was that high up.”

“So, what happened? Why did you break up?”

“Well, he acted like our four-year age difference meant he could treat me like a little kid. It was nice being taken care of at first but then I realised how condescending he was and dumped him.”

“How long were you together?”

You pause. “Two weeks,” you admit abashedly, making Jake chuckle. “At least he didn’t waste my time and showed his red flags early on.”

“Any boyfriends since?” he asks, and you wonder whether you’re making up the unsure tone of his voice. As if he’s curious, but doesn’t want to show it too much. You hope you’re not making it up.

“A few, but they never last very long with me,” you say, a meek smile on your lips. “Furthest I got was three months.”

“And why didn’t it work out with three-months-guy?”

“He started comparing me to his mum a bit too often.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, I ran out of there without looking back.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you’ve got high standards. I would hate to see you date just any loser.”

You want to say, High standards or issues?, but you don’t want to make it weird, so you play it cool instead. “I would never. I have a mental checklist with everything a guy needs to have for me to date him.”

“A checklist? I have to hear about this.”

You sigh, debating whether you should tell him about it. Would he notice it’s based on him? Would he notice the only person that could tick practically every box was none other than him? Jake gently elbows your side, goading you on. When you look at him, he’s got a shit-eating grin playing on his lips, and you give in. You look off into the distance as you start listing your requirements. “Well, there’s all your basics like funny, taller than me but not too much, ‘cause I don’t want neck cramps, smart, takes uni seriously, has plans for his future, easy to talk to, not emotionally stunted and can actually have a vulnerable conversation. It’s also a bonus if he has a nice face.”

“How much of a bonus?”

You think for a second. “It’s more a dealbreaker than a bonus, actually. Nice smile is a must, definitely.”

“Okay. Got any more specifics?”

“I do have some particular ones. It’s nice if he’s a reader, but it’s terrible if it makes him think he’s better than everyone or if he tries to sound smarter than me. I like it if he has experience, I don’t want to have to teach him everything. But obviously I don’t want him to still be in love with his ex. Guys and their first loves, I swear… I also don’t really like picky eaters.” You look over at Jake and take a double-take. He’s typing away on his phone, but because of his privacy screen protector, you can’t see anything. You huff. “I also don’t like it if he has those protective screens on his phone. What’s on there that’s so important that I can’t take a peek? What are you even doing?”

The sweet sound of Jake’s giggles erases any trace of annoyance that you felt seconds ago. He turns his screen towards you, showing the list of mostly ticked boxes that he’s written up. “See? I check most of these,” he says with a proud smile. “Guess your standards aren’t that high.” You don’t tell him that your standards are high, he’s just that amazing.

You do your best to look only amused at this even though inside, you’re all but freaking out. “Which are you missing?”

“Well, I clearly own a privacy screen. And I don’t have much experience. Not nearly as much as you, by the sounds of it,” he admits, somewhat sheepish. “But other than that, I’m practically the perfect man for you.” He looks down at you with a smile so bright, it makes you wish you had brought sunglasses. It takes everything in you not to scream right then and there. Yes, Jake, you are the perfect man for me, but I wish you wouldn’t say it like it was a joke.

You let out a stiff chuckle, and, rather than saying something stupid and possibly damaging, shift the conversation to him. “What do you mean by not much experience? Have you not dated anyone?”

Jake sighs. “Nope, not anyone. I went on a few dates, you know, went through a few talking stages and all that, but it never went much further. There was always something…” He glances at you then. “Missing.”

“I know that feeling,” you say with a chuckle, and he laughs too, a breathy sound.

“I don’t have a checklist to pinpoint what it is, though.”

You smile. “You should try, it might help.”

“I just… I guess I’m like you in that I also have high standards. But it made me not even want to give anyone a chance, especially since I knew it wouldn’t end up anywhere.”

“Don’t tell me no one has ever managed to reach the great Jake Sim’s standards?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

Jake smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course someone has. She’s the whole reason I have standards in the first place. It’s not my standards I compare people to, it’s her.”

Jealousy has never made you feel as sad as it is right now. “And… it didn’t work out between you?”

Jake looks at you, eyes searching for something in yours but seemingly not finding it, and so he turns his gaze away. You don’t know why you feel so disappointed. “Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “She didn’t feel the same way.”

Whoever this girl is, you can’t believe how stupid she is for passing up the opportunity to have Jake Sim. “That’s… It sucks, I’m sorry,” you say. You don’t think spitting on this girl would make him feel any better, so you keep those thoughts to yourself.

“It’s okay,” he says with a small smile. “It was a while ago already.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re quite over it, though,” you say, and you’re surprised but glad to see his smile widen.

“That’s true.” His eyes meet yours again. “I don’t think I’ll be over her anytime soon, either.” You have to look away to shield the pain that flashes through your eyes from him.

Pretending you don’t have feelings for your best friend and that you’re okay with him being in love with someone else is like riding a bike: even after years of not doing it, it only takes a few minutes for you to be able to do it perfectly again. Muscle memory, if you will. So you sigh dramatically and throw your arm around Jake’s shoulder, slightly pulling him down to your level. “Don’t worry. We’re going to have so much fun this year, you’ll completely forget about her. Promise. She doesn’t know what she’s missing. Yeah?”

He smiles down at you. You want nothing more but that glint of melancholy in his eyes to be gone. “Yeah.”

Jake is only half-glad to see you haven’t changed much from your childhood and early teenage years. You’re still just as pretty, just as warm; it’s still as comfortable to be around you. You’re also still as dense.

Then and now, he did everything he could to make his feelings for you very, very obvious. Either you’re completely oblivious, or the idea of dating him is so horrifying to you, you understand but pretend you don’t. He really hopes it’s the former.

He arrived in Edinburgh just a bit over a week ago, and you’ve seen each other almost every day. Out of those times, there isn’t a single one where he hasn’t tried to send something your way - something that says, hey, what if we stopped being friends and dated instead? Wouldn’t that be cool? Can’t you see how desperately I love you?, but you never latch on. The ball’s in your court, and he wants you to throw it back, but it’s been feeling more like a boomerang that always hits him right in the face when it circles back than a game of catch.

But he’s reminding himself not to be too greedy. Even if it’s just as friends, at least he has you back, so he’s satisfied with that. For now.

His first class of the year is on the following Tuesday morning, a ninety-minute seminar specifically made for exchange students called Discover Scotland. (He has Mondays free, resulting in a three-day weekend, which you and your 9am Monday tutorial are very envious of.) As interesting as the English Lit courses he’s taking seem, it’s this one he’s most looking forward to - except for the one class he shares with you, of course. Not even because of the seminars themselves, which will be about all sorts of topics on Scottish culture and history, but because of the coursework, as crazy as that sounds. It consists of a singular project, not due until the very last day of the semester, in which he has to travel to at least three different places in the country, research its background and provide a detailed account of his experience there. It can take any form: a written report, an in-class presentation, a podcast, anything. He could even film a TikTok if he wanted. Jake knew that being part of the Arts & Crafts club for two years in a row back in Seoul wasn’t for nothing - his scrapbooking skills would finally have their time to shine.

That afternoon, he practically snatches you as you come out of your lecture, giving you little time to say bye to your friends, and makes you take him to the biggest stationary store you know in the city. If he wants to ace this project, he will need supplies. Many, many supplies. And it’s more fun shopping if you’re with him. You seem happy following him around the store, and when he asks you if you want to come on his trips with him, he can pretend it’s because you seem so excited about his project and not because he had thought of you accompanying him as soon as he heard about it.

As you stand in line at the till, you tell him that if he wants to start his project now, you could go to the beach together. You raise your eyebrows at him when he snaps your head towards you. “There’s a beach here?!”

“Did you not look at a map before coming here?” you ask, amused.

“I guess I didn’t…” he says, distraught at the new information. It only lasts a second, though. “Okay, let’s go now.”

“Now?” you echo, and he nods. “But-” you start, but are interrupted by your thoughts. “I guess there’s no reason not to. The weather’s nice and it’s not like I have any uni work yet. Let’s go,” you agree, looking up at him with a smile. You’re so pretty he almost forgets to look away, until the employee calls Next in a bored drawl.

An hour later, you’re at the beach, barefoot on the sand and ice cream in hand. Strawberry for you and vanilla for him, he notes with a smile. Really not much has changed, he thinks. From the sand, to the water, to the promenade along the beach, Portobello is worlds away from the beaches back home in Australia, or those of Jeju Island. But it’s still nice, and because you’re with him, it’s even better. You’ve been walking around for an hour, splashing each other with water and mercilessly ruining sandcastles left behind before he realises you technically came here for his project. He writes down things he doesn’t want to forget on his phone and snaps a few pictures, sneaking a few of you when you’re not looking. He wants to tell you how beautiful you are with your hair blowing in the wind and the way the chill bites at your cheeks, but he keeps it a secret between him and his Notes app.

Even though he lives two stops further down, he gets off from the bus with you, containing his excitement as best he can when you invite him up for a cup of tea. “Depends. What tea do you have?” he asks, trying and failing to play it cool. He’s just grateful he doesn’t have to come up with an excuse to spend more time with you.

You roll your eyes playfully as you unlock the front door to your building. “I can make you hot chocolate, Mister Tea-Is-For-Old-People.”

He chuckles. “Actually, I’ll have you know I started drinking tea at uni.” When you turn around to look at him, a surprised look on your face, he nods proudly. “Mh-hm. I got addicted to caffeine very quickly into first year so I started drinking black tea for the sake of my heart,” he explains.

“God,” you say breathily, sounding mildly horrified. “A caffeine addiction sounds intense.”

“It was, yeah,” he says, laughing as he follows you into your flat.

Yunjin and Chaewon are sitting at the living room table, watching an episode of what he thinks is Gossip Girl, and they greet him as normally as these two can, but he wonders what the knowing look they exchange is all about. He’d met them the previous weekend when you had all gone for drinks together, along with Jay, Yunjin’s boyfriend, and they had all but grilled him on his relationship with you. He hadn’t thought much of it, chalking it up to your friends feeling protective of you, and truthfully, he was just happy to get to talk about you. But now, he was wondering if you had told them anything about him that made them so curious about him. If you did, he hoped it was something positive.

He stands awkwardly in the kitchen, chatting with you as you boil the water and get cups out, but he can feel their gazes burning the back of his head. Clearly, whatever conversation he’s having with you, he’s also having it with them. “How do you take your tea?” you ask.

“Um, three sugars and lots of milk, please,” he says, smiling innocently when you slowly turn to look at him, a mix of disapproval, disgust, and offence on your face.

You sigh deeply. “I mean, I’ll do it, but I’m not sure that’s even tea anymore.”

“You’re one to talk, Miss Caramel Frappuccino,” he says, recycling your bad joke from earlier.

“At least I don’t claim to be drinking coffee when I order a frap,” you argue. “And this is how you battled your coffee addiction? You’ll be getting another kind of heart problem, Jakey.” He doesn’t know if you even notice your use of his old nickname - the first time you’ve used it since he’s been here - but you don’t make a big deal of it, so he doesn’t either. Not outwardly, at least. Mentally, he’s running laps around your small kitchen.

Jake laughs it off. “I thought I came here for tea, not a health check-up,” he says, smile growing wider at the sight of yours.

“Right, sorry,” you say, giggling. “I’ll make your tea just how you like it,” you add in a sweet voice. Jake knows you’re just doing it as a joke, but it still manages to make butterflies erupt in his stomach.

His tea tastes even sweeter that day.

A few days after your impromptu trip to the beach, you’re waiting for Jake outside of his class. He heard of this donut shop he “absolutely needs to visit” and is dragging you along with him - well, “dragging” is a big word considering you’d follow him anywhere. You got here a few minutes early, not needing much of a reason to leave the library, so you scroll through your feed until Jake calls out your name. You’re only mildly surprised to see Jay leaving the classroom behind him.

“Y/N! Can you believe that Jay and I are in the same class?” he says excitedly as the two boys walk toward you. You feel like a dog owner being greeted by their over-enthusiastic dog after a long day (about three hours) of being apart.

“I can believe it, actually. You two do the same degree.”

You exchange quick greetings with Jay before the three of you start heading out. As you walk, Jake throws his arm around your shoulders so casually, it almost throws you off balance. Physical contact always came easy to him, but there’s something about him doing it next to someone else that catches you off guard. It reminds you of walking somewhere with Jay and Yunjin as they discretely held hands. It makes you feel like it’s not the three of you, but Jay with the two of you. Like you and Jake come as a pair rather than as two individuals.

All of that from a simple arm around your shoulders.

Jake asking you in a very unsubtle whisper whether Jay can come with brings you out of your head and back into the conversation. “Yeah, of course,” you say, smiling. It’s not a bad idea to have Jay along: hanging out with someone else might snap you out of your delusion.

Most of the walk to the shop is done in laughter as Jake and Jay realise how much random stuff they have in common, from their peanut allergies to the embarrassing Harry Potter phase they had as fifteen-year-olds. Grassmarket is really busy on Friday afternoons, and there’s a bit of a queue of other donut-enjoyers in front of the boutique, but you don’t mind. The sun is shining down gently on the square and it gives you time to choose your donut out of the ten or so flavours available. In the end, you go for white chocolate and raspberry, while Jake chooses Biscoff and Jay, tiramisu.

“My friend Sunghoon would love this,” he says after taking a hearty bite. “He goes crazy over tiramisu. Like a cat with catnip.”

Jake chuckles, mouth full of Biscoff. “That’s funny, I also have a friend named Sunghoon who loves tiramisu back in Seoul.”

Jay punches Jake’s shoulder, eyes wide in amusement and shock. “Bro, that’s crazy. You have to be lying at this point,” he says, but Jake shakes his head fervently.

“I promise I’m not. I’ve even saved his number with the tiramisu emoji.”

“There’s a tiramisu emoji?” Jay asks, already over questioning the existence of Jake’s Sunghoon.

The conversation circles back to the courses you’re all taking this semester, and Jake tells Jay about Discover Scotland and the trips he’s planned so far. “Well, if you really want to discover Scotland as a student, you need to go on a night out in Glasgow,” Jay says. Going by the look on Jake’s face, Jay’s idea seems to have struck a chord in him.

“Y/N?”

You nod, finishing your mouthful of donut before speaking. “Yeah, Glasgow’s really fun. We should go,” you say, laughing when the two boys high-five in victory. Between the train, the drinks and the club entry, going out isn’t a cheap ordeal, and getting to and fro also takes a while - even so, the smile on Jake’s face makes it worth it.

He wipes some raspberry jam from the corner of your mouth, shooting you a wink, and you want to disintegrate right then and there, become one with the bench you’re sitting on and never have to face him again. The conversation resumes as Jay tells Jake about all the best places to go out in Glasgow, but you don’t hear a word - the feeling of Jake’s thumb so close to your lips takes away your ability for coherent thought.

“It’s decided, then. We’re going out tomorrow night,” Jay loudly announces. “Let me gather the troops.”

That’s how you find yourself in line for the club the next day, already tipsy from pre-drinking on the train and at the pub. It’s still warm enough for you and the girls to wear as little clothing as you want, but Jake insisted on giving you his flannel jacket anyway. If not for the warmth it brings, you’re glad to have his scent enveloping you.

The five of you work exceptionally well together. You, Chaewon and Yunjin have been a given since you met in first year, and Jay and Yunjin went so well together that he was but a natural addition to your little group. Jake’s only been here for over a week, but it’s like he’s always been around, and you couldn’t be happier about it. Him and Jay hit it off immediately, and although the girls needed some time to warm up to him (it’s not everyday that you meet your friend’s ex-best-friend she’s practically always been in love with; you understand why they might’ve been wary at first), they now tease him just as relentlessly as they do Jay. He takes it like a champ.

For a little while, you watch your friends speaking over each other, bickering over nothing, a smile on your face. Two pints of cider and some of Jay’s fancy vodka have made you more grateful than ever for them - if you drink too much in the club, you’ll be hugging them and crying about how much you love them. You’re not sure what that might look like around Jake, so you decide to keep yourself in check for the night.

It takes about thirty minutes before you manage to get into the club. It’s not coat check season yet, so you head straight to the bar. “Sunghoon said he’d meet us here,” Jay says, lifting his head to spot his friend in the sea of drunk students. “Oh yeah, there he is! Hoon, hey!”

You hear a loud “Jongseong!” being shouted from somewhere in the crowd, but you’re not sure who Jay is waving at until a boy whose face is mostly eyebrows is standing - well, standing as best as he can, with the copious amount of alcohol he’s obviously already consumed - in front of you. He gives Jay a hug and the three of you a nod of his head, a lopsided smile on his face. When he turns to Jake, his eyebrows lift first, then his face breaks into a wide grin.

“Jake, my man!” he shouts, taking a stunned Jake’s hand and bringing him into a hug.

“Sunghoon? What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, chuckling and frowning in confusion.

“I’m just partying, man! Same as you!”

“No, I mean here in Scotland, you dumbass!”

“You two know each other?” Jay asks, looking back and forth between his two friends.

“Jake’s my man!” Sunghoon exclaims, unhelpful and stumbling as he throws an arm around his man’s shoulders. Jake shoots you a distressed look but you just laugh at him.

“This is Tiramisu Sunghoon I told you about,” Jake says, helping Sunghoon stand up straight.

“God, what I would do for a tiramisu right now,” Sunghoon says, looking at Yunjin like she might relate. She chuckles awkwardly.

“I have no idea what he’s doing in Scotland, though. Hoon, I thought you were going to NYU for your exchange?”

Sunghoon pauses to think for a second, looking like he’s never heard of NYU in his life. “Oh, that! Yeah, I did an online orientation thing and… it did not go well. Let’s just say there’s someone in New York City who wants me dead,” he says conspiratorially. You all stare at him but he gives no further explanation. On your right, you hear Yunjin whisper what the fuck under her breath. “So I transferred here instead!”

“I didn’t know you were an exchange student,” Jay says, still looking just as confused.

“Yeah, man! But anyways, let’s not talk about uni right now. I’m on a bender, day three, baby! Do not talk to me tomorrow,” he says, chuckling until the smile suddenly drops from his face. “I mean that.” You look around yourself, glad to find everyone is just as baffled as you. “Let’s party!” Sunghoon cheers, intoxicated grin back on his lips. Jake and Jay follow, but you and the girls stay back for a second, taking in everything that has just happened.

“That. Is the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” Chaewon blurts, staring blankly at the spot Sunghoon stood in a second ago.

“Yeah, he also seems to be a raging alcoholic. And he’s what, twenty-one?” Yunjin says, a scowl on her face.

“I could fix him.”

“Okay, let’s go,” you say, grabbing your friends by their wrists before either of them can say something worse.

Feeling generous, Sunghoon buys shots for all six of you, and you quickly down them before heading to the dancefloor. On your way there, a group of sober-looking girls hand Chaewon a giant, still almost full jug of red liquid, something that costs at least twelve pounds here. They say they’re leaving and don’t need it anymore, smiling as you profusely and astonishedly thank them. You look at your friends, mentally weighing the risk and drugging possibility this might present, but shrug and pass the jug around after taking hearty sips anyway. It tastes so much like fizzy cherries that you wonder if it even contains any alcohol, but sure enough, twenty minutes later, the three of you are spinning around on the dancefloor, screaming the lyrics to your favourite pop songs at the top of your lungs. Jake at a club is a completely foreign sight to you, and you can’t stop laughing at all the silly moves he pulls.

You’re shaking your whole body to a Nicki song from the early 2010s when you suddenly feel a hand on your hip. Before you can turn around and slap whoever this random man is that thinks he can touch you, a familiar voice whispers it’s just me in your ear, and you simultaneously relax and tense up knowing that Jake is standing right behind you. “There’s a creep staring at you,” he explains, lips and breath gently tickling your ear as he speaks. You look around the room and quickly notice a man standing in a corner, drink in one hand and the other in his pocket, unmoving as he eyes you with a smirk so slimy it makes your stomach turn. To avoid his gaze, you turn around, but you’re not sure the sight you’re met with is much better for you.

Jake peers down at you, eyes slightly glossed over and cheeks flushed from the alcohol, jaw locked in annoyance. He glances at the guy in the corner, who you assume is still staring when you feel Jake’s hands brush along your sides until they reach your waist. His gaze returns to your face as he brings you a step closer to him. Reflexively, you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Is this okay?” he mouths. All you can do is meekly nod. You watch as his eyes deliberately scan your face, going down and down. Time stills when they reach your lips and stay there. It’s like someone has put the booming music of the club on mute, and the only thing you can hear is your heart loudly beating in your ears. You suddenly feel very sober.

You swear Jake’s face is slowly inching its way towards yours when you’re abruptly taken away. Yunjin has grabbed you by the forearm, leading you and Chaewon to the bathroom as she chants “Bathroom break! Bathroom break!”, clearly unaware of the moment she’s just interrupted.

Because of the queue for the girls’ bathroom and Chaewon’s decision to console this random girl who was in the middle of a breakdown, it’s not until half-an-hour later that you emerge back into the crowd. You spot the boys at a table, two empty shots each in front of them and all three with a beer in hand. They will not be happy checking their bank accounts tomorrow morning.

“Y/N! You’re back!” Jake calls out happily when he spots you, and you can tell right away that he’s much drunker than when you left him. His whole face is flush, his eyes don’t open quite all the way, and a lopsided smile won’t leave his lips - even like this, he’s so pretty that you want to grab his hand and take him somewhere it’s just the two of you.

Chaewon gets drinks for the three of you and then you’re dancing again. It’s already one am at this point, and the remaining two hours until the club closes, fueled with alcohol and good music, go by in a flash. Before you know it, the DJ is playing All of Me by John Legend and the lights have been turned on, clear signs that you’re overstaying your welcome. The few people that have made it to closing time stumble out of the club and into the street, heading for either the nearest subway stop or the next party of the night. Since there are no trains at this time, your group walks to the close-by bus station, listening to Jake and Sunghoon grumble about how the clubs in Seoul don’t close until at least five or six and how trains run all night there.

The bus is already at the station when you get there, and the driver doesn’t seem too pleased about having six mildly drunk kids get on his bus, but he’s probably used to questionable people taking public transport at this time of the day anyway. Physically, Sunghoon is sitting across from you, but mentally, he’s off somewhere far, far from this bus. With his head against the window and mouth wide open, saliva pooling at the corner of his lips, he looks like he’s any second away from obnoxiously snoring. Jay and Yunjin are sitting somewhere you can’t see them, probably eating each other’s faces; she once told you they had their “most mind-blowing sex” when both a little drunk, and much to your dismay, you haven’t been able to get that piece of information out of your head since. Chaewon is on the phone to her long-distance bestie Sakura, for whom it’s a nice eleven in the morning right now.

This means that you and Jake are left alone, both of you still tipsy and not tired enough to fall asleep. You drop your head on Jake’s shoulder, and not only does he let you, he also takes your hand in his, interlacing your fingers and placing them atop his thigh. Clumsily, because he now has to use his left hand, Jake slips his phone out of his back pocket and shows you the photos he took all evening. As the night progresses, they get blurrier and blurrier, so much so that towards the end, you can’t tell what he was even trying to capture, and you laugh at how inappropriate some of these would be to submit in a university project.

When he softly says your name, you don’t raise your head, simply humming to let him know you’re listening. You close your eyes, cherishing the way your name sounds on his lips. It’s his tone, tentative and vulnerable as he tells you there’s something he’s been wanting to ask you, that makes you look up at him. He, however, won’t meet your eyes, and settles his gaze on the window, even though it’s so dark outside you can’t make out a thing.

“How come you never replied to my letter? I know it’s been ages, but… I still find myself wondering about it.” The question is softly asked and you know he by no means wants to hurt you, but it still feels like a punch to the throat. You hadn’t remembered who it was that had sent the last letter, while he’d been wondering all these years why his words had been left unanswered.

He seems set on not looking at you, so you rest your head back on his shoulder. Your hand is still in his. “I’m not sure, Jakey. I’m sorry,” you say, aware it’s not a satisfying answer. You’ve thought about why you and Jake had stopped talking for hours on end; you’ve discussed it with your friends and your mum, looked at it from all sorts of angles, tried to come up with real reasons other than time pulling you apart. But now that Jake himself is asking you about it, the words don’t come easy. You’ve theorised that you were afraid putting effort into sustaining your friendship would only hurt you in the end, because it was just that - a friendship. You could fool yourself into thinking you were okay only being friends with him when he was with you, that putting your feelings aside was worth it since you could at least spend time with him. But now that he was away, you didn’t have that anymore - it just hurt. So what was the point? And how could you phrase all this without betraying your feelings for him?

“Our letters were so sparse anyway back then, even our texts and calls were getting less and less frequent… And whenever I had a new boyfriend, I’d get into the same argument about being too close to you over and over again, even though you were literally on another continent.”

“You know, I always felt sorry about that.”

“About what?”

“Those boyfriends of yours. I felt like you waited for me to leave before you started dating-”

“It wasn’t like that!” you exclaim, lifting your head again. Finally, he meets your eyes, gaze softening upon seeing your affronted expression. “It wasn’t like that,” you repeat, relaxing your tone. “If anything, they were the ones that waited for you to be gone. I'm sorry I let their jealousy get to me.”

Jake smiles, the tenderness in his gaze making your whole body turn to jelly. He squeezes your hands. “It’s okay. I just… I felt like I was always in the way of your relationships, even after I left.”

“You don’t have to feel sorry about that. They should’ve had more trust in me.”

He pauses, gaze dropping down to your intertwined hands. “I would’ve been jealous.” When his eyes find yours again, there’s something in them that you quite can’t place. It creates a ball of nerves that pull at your stomach. “If I were dating you, and you had a guy friend you were as close with as we were back then, I’d be jealous. You know, I’d assume he had feelings for you. And that you might have feelings for him, too.”

Because I did, you think. I did, and I still do. You try to communicate that thought to Jake, but telepathy works especially bad when one has as much alcohol coursing through their veins as you do right now. So instead, you say the opposite of what you’re thinking, turning away from Jake to avoid his gaze. You watch the dribble of saliva trickle from Sunghoon’s lips. “That’s not a great view of male-female friendship.”

Jake’s retort comes immediately. “But we were different, right?”

His words echo through your head until they make even less sense than they did initially. Different from what? From who? You’re not sure - but you like the idea of you and Jake being different, special. You especially like the idea of Jake thinking so. So you look at him and smile. “Right.”

Slowly, his grin fades and turns into a worried expression. “Y/N?”

“Mm?”

“We’re still different now, aren’t we?”

You want to wrap him in your arms so tightly neither of you can breathe. You settle for running a hand through his hair and pinching his cheek. “Course we are.” Your whole being relaxes when his face breaks into a smile again.

The next morning, you wake up to Yunjin plopping down on your bed unceremoniously, shaking you awake, and asking you if you want anything from Snax Café. On one hand, you’re grateful that she thought of you and that in thirty minutes’ time, you’ll have the greasiest sausage wrap and hash browns known to man in your hand; on the other, you’d like to think that she knows you well enough to know to order your regular from there without asking. But that’s probably the hangover talking.

You stumble out of bed, thanking last night’s you for having remembered to take headache medicine before crashing. Even if your stomach is very upset with the copious amount of alcohol it needs to rid your body of, and your throat is begging for water, at least your head doesn’t feel like it’s been split into two. As Yunjin barges into Chaewon’s room just as she had done yours, you head for the kitchen to get yourself a tall glass of revitalising tap water. You’re only mildly surprised to find Sunghoon passed out on your living room couch - it takes you a few seconds to remember that the three of you took pity on him when you learned he lived over an hour’s walk from the station, so you let him spend the night on your uncomfortable, cold leather sofa. While you down your glass in three gulps, you hear Yunjin shaking Sunghoon awake and asking him loudly if he wanted something from Snax.

“Fuck, I’d kill for a Snax right now,” he groggily says before he’s even opened his eyes. When he does, they dart around the room until they land on Yunjin, who's crouching in front of him. He looks like he thought her question was asked in a dream and not in real life. He also looks like he's not quite sure where he is, or who Yunjin is. It isn’t until Jay comes wobbling out of Yunjin’s bed to the couch opposite Sunghoon that the memories seem to piece back together in his head. The three of you watch him like he’s an unstable mental patient and you’re his doctors.

“No need for that, I’m ordering it on Deliveroo.” He nods his head and goes back to sleep for the time being.

Just as you’re about to text Jake, your phone rings with a call from him. His raspy morning voice as he asks you whether you slept well makes you want to put your head in an oven heated at 200 degrees Celsius. However, you resist the urge, and answer him with a smile, then ask him the same question.

“I slept pretty well too. I’d have slept in longer but one of my flatmates decided to have a Sunday fucking brunch and his friends are so loud. Can I come over?”

You’re very aware of the other people in the room, especially of Chaewon who has just walked in and is eyeing you suspiciously as if to say, Why are you smiling so hard at ten in the morning? You know the girls would jump at any opportunity to tease you about Jake, and with the added presence of Sunghoon in the room, you can’t have that. So you stifle the giggles bubbling in your throat and answer as nonchalantly as you can. It also gives you the chance to reflect on why Jake Sim asking you whether he can come over makes you want to giggle like a giddy schoolgirl so much.

(Maybe it’s because when it comes to him, you’re still the giddy schoolgirl you used to be.)

“Yeah, of course. I was going to ask you if you wanted anything from Snax, actually.”

“Snax? What’s that?”

“Oh my God, Jake, am I about to introduce you to Snax right now?”

Twenty minutes later, the six of you are sitting around your small living room table, all varying amounts of tired, dehydrated and famished as you dig into your breakfast. Given your current levels of energy, it’s fairly quiet; plus, the food hits such a spot that it’s hard to talk and eat at the same time. Jake eats like he’s never had a breakfast wrap and hash brown in his life. It’s an endearing sight if you’ve ever seen one.

You spend the afternoon together, watching movies curled up in your bed, and you try desperately not to think about the implications of that - except that’s hard to do when Jake is right next to you, legs and arms ever-so-slightly brushing against yours, his warmth so close yet so out of reach. You purposefully let him pick movies you’ve already seen so that you don’t have to focus on anything but your own thoughts and the faint but dizzying scent of his body wash. The both of you had an innumerable amount of sleepovers as kids, so this shouldn’t feel weird, but it decidedly does, probably because you’re much more aware of him now in a way you weren’t before.

As hard as you try to figure out what exactly he meant by “different,” you draw a blank. The only way you’ll understand is if you ask him, and you’re far too scared to do that. You don’t want to seem so hung upon a singular word he used when he was tipsy. It might be slightly dramatic, but you felt like some sort of balance had been restored since Jake was back in your life - the problem was it made you scared to do anything that might threaten this newfound equilibrium. It at least seems like different means a good thing to him, and that’s enough for you.

You look over to him when the second movie comes to an end. He’s sleeping peacefully, lashes caressing the skin under his eyes and cheeks looking rounder than usual. It’d be so easy to reach a finger out and trace the line descending from the top of his forehead to his chin, gliding along the bump of his nose and feeling the plumpness of his rosy lips, but you settle for drawing that line with your eyes instead.

You don’t think you’ll be able to fall asleep with him next to you and your heart beating so loudly in your ears, but you find yourself waking up a few hours later, the sun already starting to set. Jake is already awake, scrolling on his phone, one arm casually behind his head as if being in your bed is as comfortable to him as being in his own. When he sees you’ve woken up, his honey-coated smile washes warmly over you, and he makes a joke about how he keeps on falling asleep when he’s with you. “I feel that at ease, I guess,” he says, and you hope you’re not making up the small blush that spreads over his cheeks.

Semesters are always a short and intense affair, but this one passes by even quicker with Jake by your side. Before you know it, it’s midterms already, and you and Jake have travelled enough for him to complete his project and make another one just for the hell of it. He had scoured the internet for the cheapest train tickets and most noteworthy sites, planning trips that lasted anywhere between three hours and a day for the two of you. All you needed to do was follow and trust him, which was the easiest thing anyone could’ve asked of you.

You’ve gone back to Glasgow, during the day, this time, as well as St. Andrews and Aberdeen. You’ve practically visited every loch and castle in a one-hour train ride radius of Edinburgh, and Jake has more lined up for the second part of the semester. He’s even said that your trips should continue being a thing next term, and you couldn’t have agreed faster. With every new destination, every train ride spent looking out a window or laughing about everything and anything, any odd Scottish food you try for the first time, you somehow fall for him a bit deeper. You didn’t know your love for him could bloom any more than it already had - but Jake is the gift that keeps on giving, and, unwillingly or not, he always finds new ways to make your heart speed that much faster.

Attentionate, affectionate, sweet Jake who always makes sure you’re comfortable wherever you go, always gives you his jacket or tucks your hair behind your ear to prevent it from falling in your face. Who, as time passed, grew more touchy, would hold your hand, ruffle your hair, pinch your cheek, which was simultaneously devastating and elating. Who, you could tell, started to linger more, both in his touch and in his gaze. Questions of does he love me back or am I seeing what I want to see? nearly drove you mad.

“I feel like at this point the only way she’ll understand that I like her is if I kill myself and write in my suicide note that it’s her fault for not loving me back.”

Jake has been pacing back and forth in Jay’s living room for approximately twenty minutes, with no end in sight. At least he’ll have gotten most of his ten thousand steps of the day in.

Jay sighs heavily. “Okay, I really don’t think you need to go that far.”

“Sounds romantic to me,” Sunghoon says, mouth full of salted caramel popcorn.

“I hope you never get a girlfriend,” Jay retorts, looking at his deranged friend with a scowl. He turns back to his (slightly more) normal friend and gives him a sympathetic smile.

“I mean, I told her we were different. Different. That we weren’t like regular friends. I tell her she’s pretty every chance I get. I give her my jacket all the time, even though this country is fucking cold. I’ve even given her a t-shirt of mine, sprayed with my perfume and everything. And don’t get me wrong, I do it ‘cause I love doing that for her-”

“Simp,” Sunghoon snickers.

“But what the hell else can I do? Like, she has to be ignoring it on purpose at this point.”

“You could always, you know… tell her?”

Jake scoffs, fixing his friend with a derisive look. “Wow. What a great idea, Jay, I never thought of that one before!”

A popcorn lands right on Jay’s cheek. “You’re so clueless, man,” Sunghoon says, a shit-eating smirk on his lips. As if he knows any better.

Jay looks back-and-forth between his friends, an expression on his face like he’s been disparaged. “Sorry, I didn’t know being straightforward and honest was such a bad thing. It would just make things a lot clearer for the both of you.”

“But… I’m scared,” Jake says.

“Man up!” Sunghoon suddenly yells, punching the sofa next to him, making his friends jump. “How can she ever figure it out if you don’t tell her?”

“You were on my side just a second ago, man, what are you doing?” Jake asks, confusion written all over his face. Sunghoon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two boys, retreating into silence as he stuffs his mouth with another handful of popcorn.

“Just ignore him,” Jay says. “But for once, he did say something that makes a modicum of sense. You think you’re being really obvious, but you might not actually be. Which could be a good sign, you know. I heard girls were super aware of a guy liking them if they weren’t into him, but being totally oblivious if they did like him.”

“Where did you hear that?” Jake asks, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“...Instagram Reels,” Jay reluctantly admits, frowning at Sunghoon who bursts into laughter.

Jake holds the bridge of his nose between two fingers like his head aches. “You’re both so useless, I’m never coming to you with my problems ever again.”

“I’ll pretend I’m not offended by that.”

“I’d rather you didn’t, anyway,” Sunghoon says. He’s smiling but Jake genuinely can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“But seriously, if you think you’ve done everything, then just do one last thing that’s so obvious she can’t misinterpret it,” Jay says.

“Like what?”

“Like kissing her, or some-”

“Kissing her?!” Jake echoes.

“That’s wild, man,” Sunghoon uselessly butts in.

“It’s just an example, calm yourselves,” Jay says. “Or, again, just straight up tell her how you feel. It’s what I did with Yunjin, and it worked.”

“You and Yunjin are dating?” Sunghoon asks, bewildered.

Jay shakes his head at him. “Where the hell have you been, bro? We were literally cuddling on the couch the other day.”

“I just thought you were really good friends, or something.”

Jake groans, holding his head in his hands. Sunghoon was of no help whatsoever, and Jay was so on point that it annoyed him. Confessing was the only solution - but Jake was so afraid of being rejected and losing your friendship that he had barely entertained the thought. But he had found the courage to do it once, and even though his planned confession had fallen through back then, he could get himself together and do it again.

It was the day he had told you he was moving to Korea, which he himself had learned that morning. Originally, he’d texted you because he had news to share - good news. Or at least, he hoped they were good. He hoped the soft, lingering looks you gave him weren’t a figment of his imagination but rather the confirmation he needed that you liked him back. He hoped that like him, you cared too much about your friendship to make the first move into something else; that by confessing first, you’d be relieved of that responsibility; that his wish to hold your hand and kiss your forehead wasn’t one-sided.

He decided not to prepare anything - just a couple sentences that he’d rehearsed over and over in his head. Declarations of love, bouquets of flowers, chocolate and couple keychains, all that could wait until after you’d said yes to being his girlfriend. He didn’t want to win you over just once, he wanted to show you every day how much he loved you. Fourteen-year-old Jake was absolutely head over heels for you; so imagine his disappointment when, as he was getting ready to meet with you, his parents called him downstairs, a tone to their voice Jake wasn’t familiar with, but that couldn’t mean anything good.

“Your dad’s job is sending us back to Seoul next month,” his mom announced, not beating around the bush. He felt everything quite literally crumbling down around him. His friends in Brisbane, his school, his hobbies, but above all, you. He’d lose it all. And what was the point now in telling you how he felt? If you felt the same way, it would only make his departure that much harder, and if you didn’t, it would ruin your last moments together. It just wasn’t worth it.

What he had planned to be good news turned into the most awful ones. The thought of it happening all over again makes twenty-year-old Jake shudder. But he wouldn’t let himself be trapped by time again - sure, in seven months, the academic year would be over, and he would go back to Korea. But that didn’t mean that those seven months should be spent in agony, or the following ones either, for that matter. You would make it work. What was long-distance to someone who loved someone else as much as Jake loved you?

But he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. He has to start by really resolving to do this, and in the off-chance that it actually goes in his favour, he’d start worrying about long distance then.

First, he has a trip to plan.

You should’ve known that a trip to the Scottish Highlands in the middle of November was a risky choice in terms of weather. The day started off nicely enough - no sign of rain when you woke up or as you watched the sunrise through the train window. Clouds turned the sky a bright white at first, then increasingly greyer and greyer. You feel the first drops of rain after lunch as you walk around a small village. By four pm, it’s pitch black and storming like you’ve rarely seen before. You head into a pub to grab a drink as you wait for the rain to subside, but subside it does not. You end up ordering fish and chips, one each, although one serving is enough to feed three. Even after taking your time eating, the bad weather does not let up. The last train, which is meant to be at eight pm, has been cancelled. Luckily, there’s an inn right across the road from the pub; you have no choice but to spend the night.

The inn receptionist is sitting so low on her chair, you can barely see her over the desk until you’re standing right over it. Her face is hidden by a book and it’s only when you say hiya that she seems to realise you’re there. You had never heard of the book or of its author, but you recognized the cover design as that of those romance novels with repetitive plots and weirdly misogynistic love interests your mum and every other middle-aged woman was obsessed with.

Her smile widens as she looks between you and Jake. “Hi there. One room for the lovely couple?”

“Oh, we’re not-”

“Yes, please,” Jake interrupts, smiling down at her, then at you. “It’ll be cheaper if we share a room.”

“Our only room with two single beds is already taken, I’m afraid. One double bed okay for you two?”

You feel like you’re about to faint, so you’re glad Jake is there to answer. “Yeah, of course.” How the idea of sharing one bed with you is so okay to him, you’re not sure - granted, you’ve done it before, but this feels different. For all intents and purposes, this is a hotel room you’re staying in. And you’re staying in it with Jake.

You try to calm your breathing as the receptionist guides you to your room, chatting casually with Jake on the way there. As she unlocks the door for you, she informs you that check-out must be done before eleven in the morning tomorrow, then bids you good night and leaves you to it, still wearing that smile you swear has mischievousness to it. The door clicks shut behind you, and it’s just Jake and you again, together in this small room until tomorrow morning. Your chances of survival are very, very low.

Your room is a humble one, consisting of a desk, a cupboard, two armchairs, a small, separate bathroom and the infamous bed. Every surface seems to be covered with wood, from the ceiling, to the walls, to the old-fashioned furniture. Only the floor is a soft, beige carpet. Especially with the darkness outside, it makes for a gloomy room until you turn on the lamp by the entrance; it casts a warm, golden light in the room, one that would make you feel at ease if it wasn’t for Jake’s presence next to you. The implications of being essentially trapped in a barely-lit room with him are heavy on your mind, especially when he looks this gorgeous with his hair still damp from the rain and the soft lights playing on his face.

His voice brings you out of your thoughts. “Right. Do you, um, do you wanna shower first?” he asks, setting his bag on one of the armchairs.

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” There has never been such an awkward tension between the two of you, but you know you’re not doing anything to ease it. You hope a shower will help you get out of your head and make you relax.

You feel the tension leave your muscles under the hot water, but your stomach is still in knots. You’ve never been this nervous around Jake before; back when you were fourteen and again in these past few months, you’d gotten so used to dealing with your unspoken feelings for him that you could almost forget about them when you were with him. They’d come back to you when you were alone and dwelling on the moments you’d spent together, on his words and actions you desperately tried not to read too much into but always ended up doing anyway. But right now, they’ve floated to the surface, becoming as obvious to you as a stain on your skin you can’t rub away. You’re scared Jake will notice it, and, in the worst case scenario you often thought about, would run away and never speak to you again.

At least the raging storm outside would make that a bit harder.

When you step out of the shower, you curse yourself for not having worn more comfortable clothes on this trip. You definitely can’t wear these jeans and button-up sweater to lounge around. Thankfully, the inn provides two long bathrobes that you could wear over underwear and your tank top, but you wonder where on the scale of inappropriate this would be to wear with Jake in the room. He’s seen you in short pyjama shorts before, but this, like everything else that would usually be normal between the two of you, feels weird today.

You wrap the bathrobe around yourself, tying it in place around your waist, and decide that it’d only be weird if you made it weird. And if Jake found the sight of your bare legs weird, then he was the weird one.

The scene you’re met with as you walk into the room makes you want to retreat into the bathroom immediately. Jake is lying on the bed with his upper half against the headboard, one leg extended and the other one bent, resting his head against one palm, using his free hand to scroll through his phone. His t-shirt has ridden up slightly, putting the waistband of his Calvin Kleins into view. Worst of all, when he sees you, his face breaks into a grin.

Your stomach twists when he gives you a once-over, letting his gaze linger on your legs. “Did you bring a bathrobe with you or was it included?” he asks with an annoyingly handsome smirk.

You roll your eyes. “Yes, I bring a bathrobe with me wherever I go,” you say sarcastically. “Now shut up and go shower, you stink.” Reverting to insults is always the solution when you’re internally freaking out.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He takes so long in the shower that by the time he comes out, you’ve dozed off in bed. As if you were a child, he wakes you up with a boop to the nose, crouching next to the bed and smiling at you. His wet hair falls on his head like that of a movie star in a shower scene, which you find extremely unfair, and his cheeks are red from the warmth of the water.

“It’s still early. Do you wanna go grab another drink?”

“In our bathrobes?” you say, laughing. “Nah, I don’t really feel like drinking anyway.” Read: I’m not sure what I’ll do with alcohol in me.

“Okay, no worries. Um, I think I saw they had board games in the lobby?”

Your ears perk up at this. “Ooh, what kind of board games?”

Putting jeans on underneath his bathrobe, Jake slips away for a minute and comes back with Monopoly, Uno, and a deck of cards. “They didn’t have much for two players,” he says, dumping everything on the bed.

You already knew that anything would become fun if you did it with Jake, but you definitely didn’t expect to spend almost five hours just playing Monopoly and card games with him. Neither of you stays put for very long, always switching from sitting criss-cross to laying on your stomach, making fun of the other’s bathrobe even though you’re wearing the exact same thing. You make each other laugh as you make up your own nonsense rules and disregard the laws of your games, attacking the other ruthlessly for a couple extra points or coins. Jake even makes you go get snacks from a corner store that’s miraculously still open because you lose the first round of Uno.

After some time, Jake lets out a loud yawn, which in turn makes you yawn too. He checks his phone to find that it’s close to midnight already. “Time for bed?” he asks, and your nervousness that had finally dissipated as you played came rushing back.

You nod. “Yeah, sounds good.”

The two of you clean up before brushing your teeth. Even that, with Jake by your side, becomes a silly affair as he pulls faces in the mirror and nudges your hip with his. You stay behind to use the toilet, and when you come back out, Jake’s already in bed, bathrobe tossed on one of the armchairs. This means that Jake is just casually in a t-shirt and boxers, waiting for you to join him in bed. Luckily, his back is turned to you, so you quickly take off your own bathrobe and slide under the sheets, careful to keep your distance from him. The sheets are cold underneath you, and you know it’ll take a while before your body heat warms them up - although you feel very hot and bothered because of the man lying next to you.

“Gosh, I’m really sleepy all of a sudden,” he says, words distorted by a yawn. You only hum in response, and he reaches for the lamp to turn it off. Just like that, you’re in complete darkness, and Jake’s body is mere inches from your own.

It’s eerily quiet for a while, and when you’ve managed to slow your heartbeat and regularise your breathing, you start trying to fall asleep. You toss and turn, unable to find a comfortable position until Jake’s low, sleepy voice breaks the silence. “Can’t sleep?” he asks, and you freeze.

You sigh. “No. I’m sorry for keeping you up,” you say guiltily.

“It’s okay. I can’t really sleep either. It’s a bit cold in here.”

You pause. “Right. Yeah, it is,” you say, even though you feel like you’re sweating buckets.

The room plunges into silence again, long enough for you to think Jake has fallen asleep. You feel something cold against your foot, only realising as it slides up your calf that it’s his foot. “Jake!” you whisper-yell, withdrawing your leg as he bursts into giggles that warm your heart. “Your feet are so cold,” you say in-between chuckles.

“I’m cold all over,” he whines. “Have they not turned the heating on yet? It’s already mid-November.”

“People are used to the cold here.”

“Well I’m not. Can we cuddle?” he suddenly asks, and he must somehow feel the way you freeze in place because he stammers out a justification straight away. “For, I mean, just for warmth, you know. I don’t think I’ll sleep otherwise.”

His foot finds yours again and you can’t help but laugh. “Sure, fine,” you say with a sigh as if you were doing only half-heartedly for his sake. As if this was some big sacrifice you were making, and not something you’d daydreamed about one too many times before.

Your heart is beating a thousand miles a second when you scooch closer to Jake, his hands finding your waist as easily as if they’d been there a hundred times before. He pulls you in much closer than you had expected, holding you tightly against his chest, one arm for you to use as a pillow and one hand resting on your lower back. You try to calm your respiration so that he can’t hear how short of breath you are, but based on his own breathing, he seems to be out in five minutes. It takes you longer to fall asleep, every shift of his body sending shivers down your spine, but you manage to relax after some time, letting his warmth envelop you as you drift off to sleep.

The feeling of waking up with you in his arms is so unreal, Jake thinks he might still be dreaming.

He looks down at your peaceful sleeping face and can’t stop the smile that spreads on his lips. Jake always thinks you’re pretty, but this is a sight he particularly wants to commit to memory. He watches fondly as the bright sun rays of the early morning hit your face, making you scrunch your eyebrows and bury your face deeper against him. You grunt softly, and when he feels you shifting and stretching your legs, he pretends to fall asleep so you don’t catch him staring. It seems like you’ve raised your head, chin tilted towards him - if he’s lucky, you’re watching him “sleep” just like he did seconds ago.

He contains a smile at the joke that forms itself in his brain before shooting his eyes open, catching you off guard during what you thought was a private, secret moment.

“Shit!” you yelp, practically jumping off of him and rolling onto the other side of the bed. He bursts into laughter, proud that his little prank was effective. Before you can scold him, he makes his way to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing your back against his chest. He thinks he feels your body tense; but then you bring your hand over his, swiping your thumb back and forth against his skin, and you relax in his hold. “You’re so annoying,” you complain, but your voice is tender, almost weak.

He buries his face in your hair, trying not to be too loud when he inhales there. “Sorry,” he says, the smile evident in his voice. “The opportunity was right there. Caught you staring, huh?”

“You’re such an idiot.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” It’s quiet for a few minutes, and Jake is more than happy to enjoy this moment in silence, but there’s something burning the tip of his tongue. It’s been there for a while now, but he thinks he’s finally found the right moment. “Y/N?”

“Mm?”

“There’s something I couldn’t tell you last night, but I feel oddly okay saying it right now. Are you listening?”

“I am, yeah,” you say gently, voice so soft it caresses his skin and draws goosebumps from it.

His chest expands and falls with a deep, shaky breath. With your back right against it, he’s scared you’ll hear that his heart is beating faster than it should. “Bad news first?” he says with a nervous chuckle.

“Uh-oh.”

“There’s no roundabout way to say this, so here goes, I guess.” He takes another breath. “I’m in love with you, Y/N.” You tense in his embrace, and he waits for you to say something, anything before he continues.

“Oh,” is all you say. He hopes it’s a good oh - even if it isn’t, he doesn’t let it deter him.

“Yeah. I really debated telling you this… I know you might not feel the same way. But I also know that if I don’t say anything and make the same mistake twice, I’ll beat myself up over it for the rest of my life.”

“The same mistake?” you ask, looking at him over your shoulder.

He gazes down at you tenderly, pushing hair away from your face with a gentle hand. “I already felt that way back when we lived in Australia. I was about to tell you but when I learned that I was moving, I didn’t wanna risk ruining the little time we had left together.”

The look on your face both breaks his heart and patches it up again. “Jakey…” you say, voice just a whisper. You turn around to face him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. The fact that you’re not saying much is making his stomach twist in agonising stress, but he takes it as a good sign that you’re still holding him tight and not running away.

“I think I’d be the luckiest guy on Earth if you felt the same way,” he says, hopefulness clear in his voice.

And then he finally hears the words he’s been dying to hear all these years. “Of course, I feel the same way, Jake,” you say, eyes meeting his. “This isn’t bad news at all, it’s like, the best possible news ever.”

It takes him a few seconds, but when your words sink in, a bright smile graces his features. He feels tears coming up - tears of relief that you feel the same way, of sadness that it took the both of you so long to get here, of happiness that something new might start - he’s not sure. Perhaps everything at once.

“Of course?” he echoes, smiling wildly. “It wasn’t obvious to me.”

“Oh, gosh,” you murmur, burying yourself into him once more. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

He tightened his hold around you, bringing you to him as close as physically possible. “Me neither.”

The feeling of you tangling your bare legs with his and bunching up the fabric of his t-shirt in your fist awakens something in him - he had been in his head, thanking the heavens that you loved him back, reeling from his belated confession, but he was now very aware of his body. And of yours. He was reminded of Jay telling him to kiss you - although he hadn’t needed to go there to reveal his feelings to you, it was still a possibility. It was even more so now that he knew you felt the same way.

He tries to be subtle as he brushes a hand up your back to the nape of your neck, gently grazing his fingernails against the skin there. He has to suppress a self-satisfied smirk when he feels you squirm under his touch, lifting your head to fix him with a scolding look. Your stern expression fades as soon as his eyes fall on your lips, however, and you quickly mirror his gaze. His lips part, and he feels his whole body shake as he takes a deep breath in. Who knew that you’d share your first kiss on a random Sunday morning in the fuckass middle of nowhere in Scotland?

Maybe you take pity on him, or you recognise the effort put into being the one to make the first move, or, as he’d like to think, you just really want to kiss him - either way, you’re the one who closes the gap and presses your lips to his.

Your lips. So soft, so delicate against his, absolutely perfect. It’s a simple, tentative touch, but he’s craved it for so long that it makes his head spin. He frowns, despite himself instantly needing more than this feather-like feeling of your lips brushing against each other. His mind tells him to calm down and take it slow, but his body takes over, urging him to grab the nape of your neck a little harder, to hold you a little closer to him, to kiss you a little stronger. Thankfully, you let him do all of this and more, hands finding purchase in his hair and returning his intensity tenfold.

He doesn’t know what’s better - the fact that you’re kissing him or the kiss itself. The way your lips move against his is intoxicating; it wraps itself around its mind and leaves no room for thoughts that aren’t of you. You seem to want him as desperately as he wants you, to have waited for him as long as he did for you, and this is what drives him crazy. You press your body against his and he sees stars; you let out a moan against his lips and he kisses you deeper, ready to do anything to hear that melody again.

Unfortunately, the only melody he gets to hear is that of his phone alarm, informing you that it’s quarter to eleven and that you have fifteen minutes to leave. Check-out at eleven am had sounded nice yesterday; now, he would stay in this dingy inn his whole life if it meant he got to keep kissing you.

The both of you reluctantly break apart, bursting into giddy laughter when your eyes meet. As said before, Jake always thinks you’re pretty, but with your pupils blown and your lips plump from kissing, this might just be the prettiest he’s ever seen you.

“You know, I like you a lot, but I’d like you even more if you could stop time,” you say.

He looks down at you with a smile, pushing away the strands of hair that had fallen on your face. “Sure, I’ll learn how to control time for you.”

“Thanks, Jakey.” You peck his lips, lingering, and he closes his eyes to savour your sweetness.

“Anything for you, baby.” His eyes widen at the nickname slip, but you erupt into giggles.

“Baby?”

“Would you look at the time, we really got to go,” he says, detangling his limbs from yours. He pauses for a second. “Baby,” he repeats, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before bouncing from the bed.

You get ready together, and the mundane tasks of stripping sheets from a bed and packing bags become the funnest things he’s ever done. You’re all over each other, attacking the other with kisses and hugs; Jake doesn’t think he’s ever felt quite this happy.

And this is only the beginning.

There’s a glint in the receptionist’s eyes when you check out of your room, as if she knew something you and Jake had been oblivious to all along. It’s the only one in town, so you go back to the little pub for a full breakfast with eggs, hash browns, haggis, and sausages. You get coffee so strong you think you might not sleep for the next four days, while Jake drinks tea that is equal parts sugar, milk, and actual tea.

From the moment you leave the pub to the moment you arrive at your doorstep, Jake’s hands barely leave yours. When they have to, like when you’re searching for the perfect seat on the train or when the controller checks your tickets, they’re back together within a minute, like two magnets that can’t stay apart for too long. The rain has long subsided, leaving place to a bright blue sky and wet blades of grass that shine in the sun.

Now that your mutual feelings don’t need to be kept secret, you tell each other about everything you had to go through, like you pretending your good news was your mum having baked the cookies Jake liked and him seeing your new boyfriends every two months on your close friends story. He tells you about all the hints he’s dropped, causing you to facepalm over and over again. It feels like two friends catching each other to speed on all the latest gossip, except the topic of that gossip is you.

The juxtaposition of your familiarity with Jake with the novelty of behaving like a couple, of not having to hold back with your touches or gazes or words, is nothing if not jarring. But you have a feeling you’ll get used to it in no time.

As you unlock the front door to your building, you don’t ask him if he’s coming up - to you, it’s a given that you’ll be spending the rest of today and every day after that together. So when he doesn’t follow you, staying still on the threshold, you turn around with a questioning look on your face.

“There’s something I need to do this afternoon,” he says, taking both of your hands in his.

“Can’t I come with?” you say. Jake wavers for a second, but sadly, he stays firm in his decision.

“Sorry, baby, it’s a surprise. I’ll be back at seven with takeout?”

You can’t possibly be mad at him when he calls you baby and offers food in the same breath. “Only if you bring takeout.”

“You only love me because I feed you, don’t you?” he asks, a smile on his face.

“Yup,” you reply. You’re standing on a step, so you bend down to kiss him - you intend for it to be a peck, but when your lips touch, you’re unable to pull away. You let yourself get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours, in the warmth that takes over your body and makes your brain all fuzzy.

A loud, affronted gasp from behind you makes you jump from Jake, and when you turn around, Chaewon and Yunjin are standing in the stairwell, staring at you with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

“So this was a sexcapade?” is, much to your horror, the first thing Yunjin says.

Thanks to Chaewon, neither you nor Jake have the time to dwell on this sentence as she comes running down the stairs and pounces on you. You don’t know how a woman so small can have such force, but her hug is so tight you can barely breathe, let alone hug her back properly. “I knew you could do it!” she exclaims. When she pulls away, she seems so moved, it looks like she’s about to cry. “You finally popped your Jake cherry,” she whispers, but it’s loud enough for Jake to hear. A bark of laughter escapes his throat.

“Okay, thanks, guys,” you say, escaping this awkward situation and going up the stairs. “I’ll see you later, Jake!” you yell over your shoulder. The girls seem to be on their way out, and you’re more than happy leaving him to deal with them on his own. God knows you’ll get the worst of it when they come back.

As soon as you get to your flat, you make a beeline for your bedroom, plopping on the bed. You’re the same person, and this is the same room. But something within you feels entirely different, like a scar that you had been carrying around had, without you even noticing, healed so well you could barely see it anymore. You lifted your hands in the air, looked at the back of them, then at your palms. They were the same old hands that had been with you your whole life, and you were almost shocked that there wasn’t something utterly different about them after having held Jake’s hand for so long. Just to be sure, you sniffed your right hand, but it didn’t smell any different, either. But you still felt Jake’s hand on yours, like headphones you’d been wearing for hours and still felt on your ears after taking them off.

Yunjin and Chaewon are back from their shopping half-an-hour later; they got you a chocolate fudge cake from Tesco to congratulate you. “You guys are acting like this is my birthday…” you say, eyeing the cake greedily as Chaewon cuts it into three equal parts (even though it says serves eight on the packaging).

“This is more important than your birthday, Y/N,” Yunjin states as she pours oat milk into three cups of Earl Grey tea. “This is, like, the moment of a lifetime.”

“Are you saying a girl’s importance depends on her having a boyfriend?”

“Yes, Y/N, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Especially when said boyfriend is the guy she’s been pining after for all of her teenage and adult life.”

You sigh. “Well, he hasn’t exactly popped the boyfriend and girlfriend question yet.” They both turn to look at you, an annoyed look on their faces. You stand up straight, uncomfortable under their gazes. “What?”

“Usually, I’m all for clarity on this issue,” Chaewon starts. “But isn’t it pretty obvious here?”

“You’re still gonna have to tell us everything in minute detail, but Jake’s already told us what happened. He had no qualms referring to you as his girlfriend, so I really don’t think this is something you need to worry about. What you should worry about is when and where you’re going to hop on that dick.”

Chaewon bursts into laughter, and you can’t help but follow suit. “Gosh, Yunjin, you really do have a way with words.”

“I know. This is what having a Jane Austen hyperfixation at fifteen will do to you.”

Following Yunjin’s orders, you tell them about the events of the previous day and this morning over tea and cake. They ooh and ah and gasp in all the right places, ask you very specific questions and even make you draw a picture of the room you stayed in. You’ve talked to them about Jake so many times that there’s only so much to say now - but still, you talk for hours on end, deviating off-topic so often you end up talking about something else entirely.

You’re in bed reading for your Middle English Literature class when the doorbell rings. It’s seven on the dot, so it can be no one else other than Jake. It’s been mere hours, but you’ve missed him enough to last you for weeks.

He brought takeaway from the Indian place you’d raved about a hundred times but hadn’t brought him to yet. Somehow, your heart grows even fonder as you watch his reaction to the food, the raise of his eyebrows, the widening of his eyes, the excited shimmy of his shoulders. When you ask him about his afternoon, a wide smile breaks out onto his face, like a lightbulb illuminating a room. Without a word, he scurries to your room, bringing back some sort of book with him. He hands it to you with a shy smile and curious eyes, eagerly anticipating your reaction. The cover reads Y/N and Jake in his clumsy but endearing handwriting, with the date of his arrival in Edinburgh and an em-dash scribbled underneath. “I haven’t booked my flight home yet, so I’ll add the second date later,” he explains.

When you flick through it, you’re met with photographs of you and Jake on all of the trips you’ve done so far, as well as the various adventures you got up to in the city. There’s even one of you sleeping in the library at two am during midterms when you had forgotten about one of your essays, due at midday. Jake had come with coffee and words of encouragement, and now he could brag that the high mark you got was thanks to him. It’s not only photos - it’s also ticket stubs, receipts, stickers, and even a dried flower you had found pretty on your trip to St. Andrews. He’s also written quite a lot, from diary-like entries about what you got up to that day or songs that reminded him of you.

“You misspelt right here,” you say, pointing to a sentence that reads This is the café write next to the hotel where the last Harry Potter book is said to have been written!!! under a photo of you drinking a massive cup of hot chocolate. The more you look at the typo, the more it makes you laugh, until you have tears brimming in your eyes.

Thanks to Yunjin’s messiness, pens and pencils are strewn over your coffee table. Jake, flushed red in embarrassment at the small mistake, snatches a pencil and aggressively erases write, spelling it correctly the second time around. “This is the level of today’s English Lit undergrads,” he murmurs under his breath. His frown disappears when he looks at you and he laughs along.

You continue looking through the album until you land on a page titled Why I love Y/N. From top to bottom, left to right, it’s filled with Jake’s tiny handwriting. You can tell he put effort into making it neat. There’s a singular photograph of you, one that dates from the first days after Jake’s arrival when you were walking around in the Meadows, the park right next to campus. The sun shone down on you and you smiled brightly at Jake behind the camera.

You’re not a quarter through reading when tears swell in your eyes, rendering your vision blurry. You wipe them away before they can fall and stain the page. Jake has detailed every last thing he loves about you. It can hardly get cornier than this, but the fact that he wrote this about you makes your heart so full, you’re afraid it might explode in your chest. It ranges from basic things like the way she makes me laugh or her pretty face when she falls asleep in the train (or anywhere, for that matter) to more you-specific things like the strict pastel colour-coding she uses for her notes and her perseverance when eating spicy food even though she can’t take it. He mentions things about you that you didn’t even know, and that feeling of being known in-and-out, of being really seen by someone else only brings more tears to your eyes. Your favourite line comes at the end - the way she makes any place feel like home. A proper sob pushes past your lips at this, and Jake, who had been watching you with an anxious smile, rests a palm on your knee and inches closer to you.

“Why are you crying, is- Did I write something bad?”

You shake your head fervently. “No, no, Jakey, this is… It’s perfect. I’m just…” you trail, letting out a half-sob, half-chuckle. You look at him with a smile before pulling him into a tight hug. “I love it so much. I love you so much.”

You can feel Jake relax against you. “I love you too, baby. I’m glad you like it.”

You pull away after a small while, and turn the next page over. It’s a picture of you over breakfast this morning, with words WE’RE DATING!!!! written underneath it, and those simple words make you so happy, your cheeks ache from smiling. But every page after that is empty. Jake scratches the back of his neck. “I, um, I thought we could fill the rest out together. I debated just doing it myself and giving it to you at the end of the year, but I thought it’d be more fun doing it together.”

“It would. This is such an amazing idea,” you say, flicking back through the pages.

“I thought of it because of that project I had. When I started working on it, all the photos I wanted to include were of you, but I wasn’t sure how much my professor would appreciate that… So I decided to make one more personal. One for us,” he says shyly, shrugging like it’s no big deal.

“Thank you so much, Jakey.”

He smiles. “It’s no worries.”

“Did you do it all this afternoon?”

“I had started it before, but I added it most of today, yeah. Which, by the way, awful timing. I wanted nothing more than to spend today with you.”

Your heart leaps. You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to hearing such words from Jake’s mouth.

Sometime later, you’re laying in bed with Jake between your legs, watching the most recent animated Spiderman movie. With the tips of your fingers, you draw random patterns on his forearm, and if it wasn’t for his occasional chuckles, you’d think he had fallen asleep. You chat for a bit after the movie, but you find that after such an emotionally-packed day, you’re ready to call it a night fairly early. But when the lights are off and it’s just you lying against Jake’s chest, his fingernails grazing your scalp and his familiar, comforting scent clouding your judgement, all thoughts of an early night are thrown out of the window.

You shouldn’t feel so nervous - you had fallen asleep in his arms last night, and it had gone well. Really well.

“This is different from yesterday, isn’t it?” Jake suddenly says, breaking the heavy silence with a low voice. It’s like he read your mind.

“Yeah,” you whisper against his skin.

No other words are needed. You brush the tip of your nose along his neck until you reach his jawline, pressing soft kisses there and delighting in the increasing shakiness of his breath. The feeling of your lips meeting is so intense, so all-encompassing, that you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle anything more.

This is still new territory, but you’re both so eager to discover it that it makes for a messy kiss, lips moving against each other ravenously, tongues beckoning moans from the other. It’s a kiss that somehow leaves you breathless and breathes oxygen back into your lungs at once.

In a matter of seconds, Jake has flipped you on your back and is hovering over you, one hand holding him up and one hand free to roam your body. He slips it underneath your t-shirt, brushes it along the side of your waist, his touch leaving behind a trail of fire blazing on your skin. It’s so distracting, you can’t even kiss him back properly anymore. Jake doesn’t seem to mind. At first, when he starts pressing hot kisses to your jawline and your neck, you think he’s giving you a respite - but when he gently sinks his teeth into the skin there, leaving marks that will later remind you tonight wasn’t a dream, chuckling as you squirm and whine under him, you understand that this is anything but a respite.

You curse your earlier decision of not wearing a bra, because it gives you no preparation whatsoever to the sensation of Jake brushing his thumb against one of your nipples. With a loud gasp, your back arches off of the bed, which only aids Jake in raising your t-shirt up over your breasts.

He takes a minute to admire the sight of you panting and half-naked underneath him. It makes you feel shy, and you want to do something so that he stops looking and starts doing, but his gaze holds you in place. His pupils are blown with lust, eyes raking over your body and taking everything in. You have a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that it’s you he’s looking at with those eyes.

His soft lips attach themselves to your nipple while his fingers continue their work on the other one. You’ve never felt this sensitive, never felt this on edge, like you might fall apart at any second even with so little simulation. Your core throbs, impatiently waiting to be tended to, but you’re already trembling so hard from Jake’s attention to your breasts that you don’t know what will happen to you once he actually touches you down there.

“You doing okay, baby?” he asks, the rasp in his voice making you want him impossibly more. You grip his hair and he looks up at you, a tender smile on his lips. You nod your head yes and he laughs. “Yeah? You want more?” You pause at his question. You do want more, but is it worth your sanity?

It takes you a second to decide that it’s worth that and more. You nod again.

Jake seems to have sensed your hesitation. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I am. It’s just a lot.”

His expression of worry softens into a smile. “I’ll take it slow for you, love. It’s a lot for me, too.” He leans in to press soft kisses to your cheek, and some of the tension in your body diffuses. Whatever happens, Jake will be there to take care of you. “But it feels good, right?” he asks, lips moving against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“So good, Jakey,” you reply shakily.

“Good.”

You can tell that Jake really does want to take it slow - his movements are more deliberate, gentler. But eagerness, both yours and his, soon takes over, and a minute later, he’s trailing kisses down your body until he reaches your lower stomach. Your breath quickens as he hooks fingers underneath your leggings and underwear, sliding both garments down your legs and leaving you bare to him. You think the feeling of his lips on the fleshy parts of your inner thighs is what might actually do you in, make you lose your sense of reality forever - but then his tongue darts out against your clit, a barely-there touch, and your whole body flatlines.

Your reaction eggs Jake on, who, more confident now, takes the sensitive bud in his lips and alternates between sucking and licking motions. A knot ties itself embarrassingly quickly in your stomach, a knot that tightens and tightens as Jake flattens his tongue against you, licking up your juices from your entrance to your clit; a knot that threatens to come loose when he slides a long finger inside of you. You can’t take more than thirty seconds of this.

“Jakey,” you say, voice practically a moan. Your brain is fuzzy and it takes a distressing amount of time to form a simple sentence. “Can you come here?”

“Is something wrong, baby?” he asks breathily, sliding his finger out of you and coming back up so that his face is right above yours.

“No, just… I want you.”

Any trace of worry on Jake’s features dissipates as he cocks an eyebrow, one corner of his lips tugging up into a smirk. “Is that so?”

This kind of boldness would usually have you rolling your eyes, but here, it only makes your core throb more violently. It’s almost humiliating how much you want this man. It’s definitely humiliating, how easy it is to swallow your pride and play into his game. “Yes, please,” you say, eyes pleading with him.

He smiles almost giddily before burying his face against the side of yours. “My baby’s so polite,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Take this off, then,” you say, grabbing the bottom hem of his t-shirt.

“So she says please and gives orders,” he jokes, quickly obliging anyway.

Not once in your time apart had Jake posted any sort of beach trip or pool photos, so this was the first time you saw his bare chest. God, was it one for the history books. You trace the defined lines of his muscles with a finger and wonder how he had managed to get even more perfect. He lets you marvel at him for it, clearly proud that you’re gawking so shamelessly, but your mind drifts back to more urgent matters when he presses himself into you, his clothed cock, hard and hot, brushing against your folds. “Fuck,” you sigh, bucking your hips into his to feel him over and over again.

It’s so much, but it’s not enough; Jake instantly gets your message when you hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, pulling him to you and kissing him feverishly. Your lips don’t part as he slides his boxers off, and you drink up the nectar that are his moans as you take him in your hand, pumping him a few times.

“Condom?” he asks, but you shake your head.

“I’m on the pill. And even so… I usually always use a condom, but I don’t want to now. Not with you.”

Jake closes his eyes as he takes a deep, stabilising breath. “I feel totally normal about that. Not crazy at all.”

You giggle, and he opens his eyes, a wide smile gracing his lips before he bends down to kiss you. “You ready for the night of your life?” he asks against your lips. “It’s gonna last five minutes, tops,” he says, making you laugh again. “I’m sorry, baby, I can’t do anything about it. I think I could’ve cum just from eating you out.”

“That would’ve been hot.”

“Really? We’ll make it a challenge for next time, then.”

When Jake plunges into you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. He fills you up, slow inch by slow inch, until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. You both need some time getting used to the feeling - Jake drops his head in the crook of your neck and lets out a sound between a grunt and a moan, something you’ve never heard from him before. You grab onto his shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin as you try to tether yourself to him. You hold him so tight that he has no choice but to let his body rest on top of yours, his arms coming to circle your waist and bring you even closer.

His movements start out halting, the pleasure so overwhelming that it makes it hard for him to move steadily. In time, he falls into a torturously slow rhythm, but it’s the perfect kind of torture, the kind that has tears brimming in your eyes. It’s so hard to take, and yet you want more. You’re brought closer to the edge with every thrust of his dick into you, especially as he picks up the pace and lifts your hips to meet his. The new angle has his tip brushing against that spot deep inside you that makes it hard to breathe.

You can tell he’s just as close as you when he loses that steady rhythm he had found, his motions growing more desperate, harsher, quicker. Conscious of your roommates, you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as your orgasm washes over you, your whole body on fire, so sensitive that the few more seconds Jake needs to come undone himself drive both your body and your mind into overstimulation. Even the feeling of him pulling out, drops of hot liquid dripping out of your entrance, is too much and makes you let out a small, tired whine.

Jake peppers your face with kisses as he holds your waist tightly, brushing his thumb back-and-forth on your warm skin, sticky with sweat. “You did so well, baby. So good for me.” You think you might be ready for a second round if he keeps talking to you like that. “I love you so much.”

You sigh deeply, as if you were just told disconcerting news. “Okay.”

“Okay?!” he echoes, looking up at you with an outraged expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, I love you too, I just- I’m not used to this yet! You can’t just tell me you love and expect me to be normal. You have to warn me first.”

“Can I just warn you now that I’m going to tell you I love you every time I get the chance?”

You sigh. “I guess.”

“Can I tell you now?” he asks, and you hum. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Jake tuts. “I highly doubt it, but whatever makes you happy.”

You hold Jake close to you, one arm around his shoulders and the other hand playing with his hair as you come down from your high. You think he might’ve fallen asleep, and you’re close to drifting off yourself when he speaks. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. Not just the sex, although that has been on my mind for a while now,” he says, making you laugh, “but all of this. Being together, getting to be in your arms like this, kissing you whenever I want. Calling you my girlfriend.”

“Me too, Jakey. I waited so long I didn’t think it would ever happen.”

Jake chuckles. “How stupid were we not to have noticed we felt the same way?”

“Very stupid. I think we felt so sorry for ourselves that we were stuck in one-sided love, that we didn’t even realise the other was going through the exact same thing. But at least we’re now.”

“At least we’re here now.” You and Jake yawn at the exact same time, making you burst into giggles, giddy with sleep and love.

“Let’s sleep, baby,” you say.

Jake hums, burying himself deeper against your body. “Sleep well, my love. I’ll be here.”

After years of pining after each other, you and Jake find it a bit hard to keep your relationship to yourselves, or your hands off of each other.

At the beginning, all of your friends had been happy for you, but that quickly went away when your and Jake’s honeymoon phase never died down and the PDA just kept on going. If the glue you were stuck with previously was metaphorical, this one was pretty close to being real. Superglue kept you together, your moments together rarely spent without some sort of physical touch. Yunjin fake-gagged so often, you were afraid she might actually vomit one of these days. It took Sunghoon two weeks longer than everyone else to clock you and Jake had started dating.

This meant that in private, there was truly no holding back. Jake back-hugged you any chance he got, to the point you started to think he was more koala than human - although that’d imply he saw you as a tree. Make-out sessions were a particular favourite of yours - how could they not be when your boyfriend’s lips seemed to have been carved by God himself, soft and plump to the heavens, like they were made to be kissed. Really, you were just honouring God’s will when you kissed Jake.

The goodbye that comes at the end of the year is not an easy one, and the month spent at home before you fly to Korea seems to never end. But you get there eventually, and as nice as it is to catch up with Jake’s parents after so long, you feign sleepiness after lunch as an excuse to get some time alone with your boyfriend. Ironically, this “time alone” is spent so intensely that you do end up falling asleep afterwards.

You have to admit, you really did a number on your boyfriend this time - what can a girl do when she missed her boyfriend this much? Jake is still passed out when you wake up from your nap, so you slip out as discreetly as you can from his embrace and get out of bed. You head for the closet first and swipe the comfiest looking sweater of his that you find there so you can stay warm as you look around his room. A pang of melancholia hits your chest - most of the pictures and objects on his walls and shelves are parts of his life you weren’t around to witness. Friends you don’t recognize, places you’ve never heard of, phases you’d never known he’d gone through. But then you see the frame on his desk, a faded photo of the two of you at ten years of age, eating ice cream on the bench outside of your house. Milo is sitting at your feet. Jake’s family hadn’t adopted Layla yet. You realise that even if there’s whole parts of your life you didn’t get to share with each other, nothing could touch your memories, or your future.

You want to go back in time and tell fourteen-year-old you that no matter how painful it might seem at the moment, it will all be worth it for the sight of Jake Sim slowly drifting into wakefulness, patting the bed next to him, and noticing you’re missing with furrowed eyebrows. When he opens his eyes and they settle on you, a sleepy smile will grace his dazzling features, and he’ll say, “Come back to bed.”

You’ll be even more in love at twenty than at fourteen.

permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 @baekhyuns-lipchain @hyuckslvr @vernonburger @amorbonbon @fluerz (ask to be removed/added!)

#enhypen smut #jake smut #enhypen x reader #jake sim x reader #sim jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun x reader #enhypen oneshots #jake sim oneshots #enhypen imagines #jake sim imagines #enhypen fluff #jake fluff

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hannieehaee · 5 months

Note

Hi!! I was wondering if I could request a scenario(or reaction) where maybe you had a day planned with a member but they canceled to hangout with the guys, not realizing it was your birthday. I love your writing and angst so this would be perfect 4 me 🤭 thank you!! (Also for the member, maybe hhu 👉👈)

them accidentally ditching you on your bday - hhu

hhu, vu, pu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, mingyu's is a teeny tiny bit suggestive (they're mentioned to shower together, but nothing sexual occurs), etc.

part 2

wc: 2903

a/n: sorry it took me so long to get to this T-T i liked the prompt so i wanted to write something a lil longer hehe anyways tysm for reading and for requesting <3 pls lmk if anyone wants a vocal/perf unit version!

masterlist

seungcheol -

seungcheol always had a tendency of being a tiny bit extra when it came to his birthday. he expected all friends and family to be punctual on that day with a gift and some heartfelt congratulations. if you didn't wish him happy birthday at 12am on the dot, you were just not that good of a friend to him and he'd remember that moment with disdain.

in the same way that he was extra on his own birthday, he liked to do the same for his closest loved ones. he was always ready at 12 o'clock with some words of love and appreciation ready. he'd have had the gift ready months in advance. even on other people's special day, he wanted to stand out a little; show how good of a friend he was. there were no questions to he made about your birthday. you, his favorite person in the world. if he was ever going to make a day special, it was that one. he would count down the days until its arrival. it was always such a sweet gesture from him, you thought. which was why it was very weird of him to not be present right now. or all day, for that matter.

it was your birthday. you had planned this day with seungcheol a few weeks in advance. all you wanted was a calm day with your boyfriend, even cancelling plans on friends and family who had also wanted to keep you company on your special day. you were originally just going to eat a nice dinner with your boyfriend on whichever day of the week you had off that week, not minding whether it actually fell on your birthday or not. but your boyfriend had insisted on celebrating on the exact date, even telling you to call off work, claiming he would do the same once the day came. except those plans seemed to fall through.

you'd gone to sleep a bit early, deciding not to wait on your boyfriend to arrive from dance practice and just sleep in preparation for whatever cheol had planned for tomorrow. you assumed he would wake you up upon his arrival, which wouldve been a bit before midnight. you'd woken up confused when you had looked at the clock the next morning and noticed it was 6am, not having been awoken by him, nor spotting him in your room. he always left before you woke up, but today was supposed to be a day off for him, so it was all very odd. it continued like this for a few hours, until you gave up on waiting for his arrival and just called him. it was only 10am by now, so maybe he had left for some preparations not expecting you to wake up so early, but your phone calls went unanswered. for hours. it eventually became the afternoon. you had given up on calling him at around 2 oclock, realizing he just wasn't going to show.

by 5pm, you were beyond sad. the same man who whined and pouted at you if you dared wish him a happy birthday at 12:02am had also forgotten your birthday, clearly not even having called off of work that day (you'd checked his location some hours back, he was at the hybe building). he hadn't even bothered to check his phone all day either. you weren't usually one to get emotional, but this felt like a punch in the gut. you had gone out of your way to spend the day with your boyfriend, having been promised an amazing day, but were now just some forgotten rag, less important than his usual work day.

he arrived a little earlier than yesterday. whenever he left early in the morning, he arrived in the afternoon. it was now 6pm, and you had spent the whole day moping. you grabbed the cake you'd both left in the fridge a few days back, not caring anymore and just eating it out of sadness. that might've been cheol's first guess upon walking in, as you saw his smile fall the moment he landed his eyes on you, 'happy birthday' cake sitting across from you on the coffee table.

his eyes widened at the realization, and much more at your dejected appearance, "oh my god, babe, i'm so-"

you sighed, "you don't have to say it."

he quickly approached you, dropping his bag and coat before having hung them upon his entrance, "no! fuck, i'm so fucking sorry. i have no idea how it slipped my mind, i- i forgot to call off in advance, and it threw off my entire schedule. i swear i just forgot, i'm so fucking sorry, baby," he was rambling now, probably realizing how let down you were by his slip up.

"it doesn't matter, cheol. it's just a birthday. i'll just ... i'll just celebrate with my family next week or something. don't worry about it," you knew you didn't mean your words, but you also felt it useless to try and blame cheol.

"wait! it's only six. we can still do something! do you wanna go out? i'll take you to dinner. how does that sound?"

"i ... i don't really feel like it, cheol. i think i'll just go meet up with a friend. she called me last week asking to meet up, but i cancelled on her. i just wanted to wait for you to get back before i left. i'll see you in the morning," you knew you were being a little immature, but if he had wanted to be with you, he would've put in the effort.

"oh. you're sleeping over? but i thought ..."

"yeah. i'll just see you tomorrow when you get back from practice. yeah? bye, cheol."

you left without saying much else, feeling guilty at his look of rejection. you felt badly about leaving him on his own like this, but you knew there was no way for you to spend time with your boyfriend right now without feeling like an idiot.

wonwoo -

wonwoo had never felt like more of an asshole.

wonwoo had never been too big on birthdays, specially his own. to him it was just another day. it was only his family, friends (and carats, of course) who ever made that day special to him. if it had been up to him? he would probably even forget about the day, but he had the fortune to have a lot of people in his life who loved and cared about him enough to cherish that day as if it were a national holiday. and you were one of those people. you would always shower wonwoo with love, but you'd go a little extra hard on his birthday, catering to every need you think he may have and even going as far as creating an entire itinerary of things he enjoys to do throughout the day. you were a little ray of sunshine that would somehow make him look forward to his birthday, something very uncharacteristic of him. which was why he had never felt like a bigger asshole than right now.

today was your birthday. a day which wonwoo had looked forward to for two years now. he had wanted to celebrate your following birthday with you, maybe plan something elaborate for you for once, but he had unfortunately been on tour at the time, causing you to be separated during that day. this only made him want to put even more effort into your birthday next year, which was now. today. the day in which he had ultimately forgotten your birthday.

there was not much to it. he had a nice day planned for you. he wasn't too good with surprises, so he had let you know in advance, allowing you to prepare yourself accordingly. you both had work that day, so he had planned a candlelit dinner for you, having even learned how to cook your favorite foods just to add that extra layer of care. the original plan was to come home from work early - earlier than you - and follow the recipes he had gone over with mingyu a few times over the past few weeks. it was simple, concise and direct. there was very little room for failure. but it had still somehow managed to slip his mind. he wanted to blame mingyu for his insistence in going back to their shared apartment after practice, something about some game he wanted to show him. but he couldnt blame his clueless friend, it wasnt his responsibility to know your birthday. he'd sworn he would only stay for an hour and then promptly leave to go home to you, but one hour turned into two and then three. it was a genuine slip of his mind, but that didn't make a difference.

wonwoo was quite surprised upon picking up his phone from where he'd left it charging upon arriving to his apartment, not realizing it had stayed on do not disturb the entire time. he was welcomed by a myriad of messages from you, all of them ranging in emotion.

from jagiya 💘:

(4:25) nonu?

(4:25) are you coming home soon?

(5:07) okay, its been almost an hour now. is everything okay?

(6:35) baby?

(6:48) i tried calling you already. where are you?

(6:48) just checked ur location and ur at ur apt. did you forget?

(9:02) it's been over two hours now ...

(9:15) okay, nevermind. don't come. we can just do this another day.

(9:16) i'll be out with some friends. goodnight.

his heart dropped more and more the more he read. he immediately went to call you and spam with responses, but found no reply from you. it only served him right. he would now spend the rest of the night dreading how to make it up to you, feeling the worst guilt he'd ever felt.

mingyu -

you'd always thought of mingyu as one of the sweetest men alive. he had helped you restore your faith in humanity, seeing him as the prime example of what a man should be. he was the most selfless person you'd ever met. ever since you'd begun dating (and even before that, if we're being honest), he had always been at your beck and call, providing you with anything you could possibly need. he'd love and take care of you in ways that you hadn't imagined possible. you'd never been disappointed by mingyu. but now you realize maybe you had flown too close to the sun. mingyu was just human after all. you shouldn't have felt as disappointed as you did. but you couldn't help your emotions, nor did you want to blame yourself over this.

the issue at hand was, today was your birthday. today, at least basing it on prior years, was always filled with the utmost love and affection a person could ever experience. all courtesy of one kim mingyu. he would wake you up with breakfast, rush you into the shower and hold you close to him as he washed your hair and whispered words of affirmation in your ear. he would proceed to take you somewhere pretty and have a full on photoshoot as he hyped you up from behind the camera. he would plan some special outing for the evening and end the day with a moonlit dinner from the beautiful view from his apartment's balcony. it was always such a dream. but this birthday in particular had been the outlier.

he unfortunately had a comeback on the same week of your birthday, causing his schedule to be more hectic than usual. he had a few things scheduled for your birthday itself, but knowing mingyu you knew he would at least come home to you that night and shower you with as much love as his exhausted self could. but that never came. you waited and waited, knowing mingyu's day had ended hours ago. at some point you simply gave up and called him, wondering where he was, if maybe something was wrong. however, his response was one that left you feeling dejected, something mingyu had never made you feel.

"gyu? where are you?", you'd said as soon as he picked up.

"hm? hi, baby. i'm at the shared apartment. wonwoo hyung wanted to leave early today. what's up, baby?"

not even a quick 'happy birthday'? did he really not remember? you felt kind of embarrassed at having gotten your hopes up for yet another year of special treatment from your boyfriend.

"uhh, nothing gyu. just checking in. are you staying there tonight?"

"yeah. thought it'd be easier since it's a bit closer to the company than your place. is that okay? sorry, baby. i shouldve let you know beforehand," even when he was unknowingly hurting your feelings he managed to be a sweetheart.

"it's fine, gyu. have a goodnight. you must be tired."

"okay, pretty," he giggled boyishly at the phone, fully clueless of your feelings, "sleep tight. love you!"

"yeah, bye."

you'd never hung up on him before a quick 'i love you' before. it mightve a dumb thing to even care about, but you knew that to mingyu's romantic nature it meant everything. which is why you weren't surprised when twenty minutes later your phone began to be flooded by calls and messages from the man, at first wondering why you had hung up like that, only to then evolve into him begging for forgiveness as he explained that he had forgotten your special day, and that it had taken wonwoo's reminder that your birthday fell this week for him to realize his mistake. but this was now his problem to deal with. if he wanted forgiveness, he'd have to come and get it.

vernon -

vernon had a bit of a tendency of being forgetful. it only came hand in hand with his tendency of being a little distracted while out and about. he wasn't careless by any means, but he could sometimes be too in his own world to notice what happened around him. which would sometimes get him into hot waters with you.

he hadn't noticed your hints, he swears! he didn't hear the suggestive tones nor the subtle nudges you'd been giving him for the past month. he hadn't thought much of it when you began texting him about places you two should visit soon, nor when you'd began to talk more about certain interests you'd been having as of late. he had just assumed you were trying to make conversation, so he treated it as such.

when your birthday had actually come, vernon hadn't known it was anything other than an ordinary day. he woke up, making sure to not wake you in the process. he'd gotten up, headed to the company, and followed his regular schedule. it was a particularly busy day, so going on his phone had been mostly out of the question. the two of you weren't really in the habit of texting much throughout the day, usually choosing to just catch up with each other at night when you could lay in bed together and dissect each other's days. he spent a majority of the day fully disconnected from outside contact, focusing solely on the harsh new choreo they needed to memorize for next week's awards show. he knew you were aware it was a busy time of the year for the industry he worked in, so he felt it fine to stay a little extra time today without messaging you first. this was something that happened from time to time anyway, so it shouldn'tve been a problem, right? or at least that's what he thought until he finally plucked his phone out of his bag, where it had been hiding the entire day.

from: baby 😖:

(9:23) u left so early :((

(9:23) shouldve woken me up so i could say goodbye!

(12:58) nonnie, it's been a few hours now ... did u forget something?

(1:20) no reply still?

(1:21) did you actually forget? :(

(1:21) i've been hinting at it for a month. i thought u were being obtuse on purpose :(

(1:48) can u at least come home a little early today? im sure soonyoung wont mind

(2:35) okay, ill take that as a no :(

(4:48) hansol ...

(6:12) okay, i guess you're gonna be home later than usual today.

(7:10) it's my birthday btw, in case it didnt click by now.

(7:16) maybe you should stay at the dorms tonight. not really in the mood for you to spend the night. im sorry. love you

fucking hell. vernon had never felt like more of a careless asshole. he had spent the entire day away from you, completely clueless to the fact that it was the love of his life's birthday. you weren't one to ask for much, so he knew a simple happy birthday accompanied by even just his presence for a shared meal wouldve been more than enough to make you happy. but his stupid distracted self couldn't even muster enough care for that. he wasnt sure what to do now. should he go to your apartment and beg for forgiveness? or stay here, like a dog with his tail between his legs as he pondered some way to make it up to you? all he knew was that he messed up. hugely.

a/n: i hate writing unresolved angst but uhh yeah if u want a pt 2 lmk <3

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen angst #svt scenarios #svt reactions #svt angst

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ryozaki21 · 10 months

Text

After You - N.JM

1/4 diary of the heartbreakers

summary: ➸ ♡ Na Jaemin had it easy. Loved by everybody, the man of everyone's dream. He's a perfect mix of a charmer and a player. Girls begged to be his, and he loved every part of it. Life used to be so fucking perfect for him. Then comes you. You're like an old book, ink fading, cover tearing, but he swears you're worth the read. Before you, life was easy. After you? He wasn't so sure.

"Break my heart, and you'll only find yourself inside."

GENRE: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Mature themes

WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Explicit sexual content, Language, Mental Illness, Drugs/Alcohol usage, Addiction, toxic!reader, fuckboy!Jaemin (but still a sweetheart)

WC: 19k (I got carried away, lol)

DISCLAIMER: This story is purely fanfiction. Only the names of the Idols are used, and does not reflect on them in real life. There's no way in any shape of form that they are like this in person, because I MADE IT UP. I don't personally know them. DO NOT STEAL / TRANSLATE / MODIFY. This is my work and I don't appreciate people stealing it. Thank you.

Enjoy reading! -ryo

//////////////////////

"Look who finally decides to show up," Jeno welcomed Jaemin with open arms, Haechan and Renjun following in pursuit.

"Come on, I just saw you guys about a week ago. Don't be dramatic." Jaemin loosened his tie, sat at the vacant seat beside Renjun.

"No Yeri today?" Haechan smirked, obviously mocking Jaemin.

"She has plans with her friends," Jaemin wants to shift the topic quickly, not wanting to be the center of attention for so long.

"Are you sure its not because she hates us?" Renjun looked at Jaemin with his brow raised.

"She hates everyone." Jaemin grabbed the flute glass in front of him as he saw the waiter come by with champagne.

"No offense, Jaemin, but I hate that her too." Haechan, eating the garlic bread. Jaemin rolled his eyes.

"Makes two of us." Jeno chimed in, drinking his champagne aswell. Jaemin didn't say anything, waiting for Renjun's addition to his girlfriend's hate train.

"All of us hate her, actually. Sorry man but your girl is literally the reincarnation of the devil." Renjun.

"You guys done? I know she isn't the best but she's still my girlfriend?" Jaemin, like the other times his friends tell him how horrible his girlfriend is, try to defend her even tho he knows that they're partly right.

"Yeah, we know. One of the mysteries even Sherlock Holmes can't fucking solve." Haechan chuckled. Jaemin let out a sigh and drank the champagne in one shot. He barely gets a break from Yeri, and when he does, his friends still mentions her name in every conversation they have.

"She disrespects everyone, literally went out with you just to show you off to her friends. I don't understand why you're still with her." Jeno rants, trying to make Jaemin understand. He doesn't mean to drag Yeri, but Jeno cannot understand how the likes of Jaemin, will go out with Yeri who treats him like shit.

"No shit, dude. Neither do I." Jaemin admitted, leaning back on his chair before dragging his hands through his hair.

"How about Karina? She's great, you went out with her a few times, right?" Haechan.

Jaemin, for the ninth time this night, rolled his eyes. "She moved to Paris."

"Joy? The girl you took to Haechan's birthday?" Renjun, pulling up a picture of Joy he searched on instagram, just to show to Jaemin.

"Engaged to Sungjae." Jeno answered that one, Sungjae being one of his acquiantances.

"Oh, I know this girl from Busan--"

"Can we not talk about my fucking love life?! Y'all are just stressing me out, God damn." Jaemin massaged his temples, just wanting a breather. Before he went here, he already had an argument with Yeri.

"Chill, man. Fine.. jeez. Just wanted you to know your options." Haechan looks away and shrugged his shoulders. To be fair, his intent was truly innocent. They just wanted their friend to live a happy life.

As per Jaemin's wish, they moved on and changed the topic to something else. After a few drinks, Jaemin started to let loose.

He wondered about a lot of things. One of which is on how he ended up here. Stuck in a relationship he doesn't really want anymore. Seeing his friends and how happy they are really hits something inside Jaemin. When will he find that? Will he even find that?

Just like the other nights Jaemin drinks himself to slumber, a few glasses in and he starts to think of something so dangerous yet so good. Something forbidden, something he would probably regret. He thinks of you.

Jaemin's greatest what if. You were like a fever dream, a memory he would cherish forever. No one can compare to the beauty hold. You were Jaemin's drug, so captivating, yet so vicious.

He wondered where you are. Are you doing fine? Are you happy?

Sometimes Jaemin hopes you still think of him. That his relevance in your life, although it was short, still lingers in your mind once in a while.

And the memories you and him had, even though it was temporary, Jaemin wishes it was enough for him to believe that you'll meet again.

Jaemin met a lot of pretty girls. All of them, actually. Yeri, despite her frowned upon attitude, was actually beautiful. That's what drove Jaemin to ask her out in the first place. He just wasn't aware of the other things that comes with it. No one can deny the beauty that Yeri holds, and even tho it contrasts his friends opinions, they know that Yeri is still one of the prettiest girl Jaemin had.

But was she the most gorgeous? No. Because there was you. They all fall behind, after you.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

The first time he saw you was at the school's cafeteria. You're an art student which he could clearly tell from the messy pencil on your bun as you ate with a friend at the back of the canteen. He knew that friend, Jeonghan, because.. he might've slept with his sister. He still couldn't remember tho, he was stupidly drunk that time.

"Who's that with Jeonghan?" Jaemin asked, still his eyes not leaving your face. As corny as it sounds, everyone's faces blurred out when he saw you.

"That's Jiho's bestfriend? I think? Wait, isn't Jiho that one chick you banged last week?" Haechan, the resident insider was the one to answer. Jaemin mentally cursed himself. You're Jiho's bestfriend. Usually that doesn't matter to Jaemin but somehow he felt some sort of guilt into taking an interest with you. Inevitably, you'll know what happened with Jiho and Jaemin, and you'll definitely see Jaemin as this asshole who slept with your bestfriend.

"Everybody knows that he slept with her, dude." Jeno chimed in, smirking.

"More like, everybody heard." Renjun followed, which earned a hefty laugh from his group of friends. Usually, Jaemin would respond with a strong punch in the arm but he was still in a dilemma on how he should approach you without giving off an asshole vibe in him.

Jaemin came up with a plan. Not a good one, but still, a plan. He would casually pass the Arts building, specifically where you usually hang out which was at the Art studio at the top floor, (don't ask him how he found out-- he has his ways) and just ask you where the exit to the building is since he never really got around this part of the university.

His plan sounded good, and just to be assured, he asked Haechan. Which wasn't a very good choice but the way Haechan got around the girls in the university, he deserved some credit. In typical Lee Haechan way he responded, "That'd totally work, dude. I don't know how that would go wrong."

Well, Jaemin now know how it would go fucking wrong.

As the plan goes, he reaches the top floor of the building and walked towards the Art studio at 5pm, because according to his sources, you like to stay after class to do your project on the Art studio. Again, don't ask Jaemin how he got those information. Which is proven to be credible, because he did find you sketching on a canvas by yourself. He could hear a faint music playing on the studio as you sketch, which Jaemin could tell was a portrait of a lady.

He cleared his throat, as he opened the door. Just like in his script, he spoke,

"Hey, uh, excuse me? I've been finding the exit from this building and uhm, I just can't. Can you-- uhm," Okay, fine, Jaemin did fuck that one up. But how can he not, when you turned around so majestically with the golden sunray perfetcly hitting your face which gave Jaemin a full view of your beauty?

"Na Jaemin? What the hell are you doing here?" You stood up, walking towards the speaker and turned it off.

"You know me?" Jaemin asked a dumb question. Everybody knows who he is. He's a fucking famous-- wait, no, he's just famous for fucking. That's it.

"Jiho and all the other girls around this place can't stop talking about how big your dick is, so I'd like to think I'm familiar with you, yes." Sarcasm fit perfectly with you, Jaemin thought. Although, he did not expect you to be this harsh given your soft exterior, nonetheless, he still found you pretty.

"Uh, that's uhm-- not the point, I need to find the exit." Stick to the plan, stupid. Jaemin had thought.

What surprises him even more was your sudden burst of laughter. What's so funny? Embarassment started to fill Jaemin, finding the whole situation dumb and stupid. Why are you laughing at him? This is the first time Jaemin felt this. Usually, girls are all over him, why are you laughing at him like he's some stupid idiot?

"Do you realize that if you're trying to find the exit, you go down the building, not the top floor?" At that exact moment, Jaemin wanted to bury himself alive.

"Dude, I didn't think you would fumble this bad." Jeno couldn't hold his laughter after Jaemin told him what had occured in the Art studio. There was only Renjun, Jeno and Jaemin in the dorm today, Haechan was steering out of Jaemin's view eversince he received a threat from his friend, quote, 'I'm gonna burn your hair off your scalp, Lee Haechan'

"You just turned around and left? Are you serious?" Renjun was more like dumbfounded. He expected more from Jaemin, being infamous in their little friendgroup for being a lowkey manwhore. He could not believe Jaemin could act so-- foolish?

"I didn't know what to say or do, bro. This is Haechan's fault, fuck!" Jaemin looked like a prepubescent teen screaming into his pillow. A couple leg-flailing and he'd successfully portray a thirteen yearold boy.

"This one's on you. You know damn well Haechan could pull that shit off with his over confident ass. Whats with this girl anyways?" Jeno asked, with little to no care about whatever Jaemin answered. He already knew you were Jaemin's type.

"You know Jaemin and his thing for innocent girls, Jeno. Are you not with him for the last seven years?" Renjun stated, which Jeno just nodded and shrugged.

"But the way she shut you down, I wouldn't say she's too innocent." Jeno had the other two thinking. Yes, with your soft brown hair and cute features, especially your love for art, you look like the stereotypical good girl that captured Jaemin's eyes. But your encounter says otherwise. No good girl can resist Na Jaemin. Everybody knows that.

Na Jaemin, contrary to his friend's beliefs, is the recent most popular man in his school. All of them were, but every student that knows him, (which is everyone) Na Jaemin is number one in his little friendgroup. He's the perfect balance between a player and a charmer.

Nobody hated the guy, they all liked him. Had the title of Prom King for four consecutive years, and has a squeaky clean reputation. Oh, don't get him wrong tho, he's a manwhore, still. Its just that every girl he has been with doesn't have any bad thing to say about the guy. He's got a great dick and even better personality. Word got around that even guys wouldn't mind if he slept with their girlfriends. That's how loved Jaemin is around the campus. He has a way with words, that once Jaemin calls quits on a girl, that girl would even say "Thank you."

Jaemin likes to think he's just being nice, but Haechan calls him a professional manipulator and gaslighter. Which if you do see it in a technical way, Jaemin's sweet words does affect the way girls interpret his intentions. Because in all honesty, he's just fucking and ghosting. But with a couple of I'm sorry's or Sweetheart's or maybe even a little bit of 'You don't deserve a man like me,' Jaemin easily could bounce out everytime.

"Also, why have we not heard about her? I mean, a face like that? Its impossible that she hadn't shown Haechan's radar." Renjun stated. Its true, it does feel weird that none of them knew who you were, specially Haechan. He's quite literally the hot girl radar and you definitely qualified as one. Its rate that Haechan never made a move on you, or even talked to you.

"Maybe she's really weird or has like a third nipple." Jeno sounds genuine, which was even worse. Jaemin couldn't help but question how is this man his best friend.

"Can you not be a twelve year-old?" Jaemin, as he threw a cushion over Jeno's side.

"Anyways, let's go back to Jaemin being a stupid idiot,"

["You got it?"] Renjun's voice was heard through the phone.

"Yes, you bitch. Now once I get home, I expect my beer and chicken laid in my table perfectly, or I'm burning your book." Its almost 7pm and almost everyone had already left the campus but Jaemin. Renjun had asked him to fetch his book from a friend, because Jaemin is the only one staying in the campus this late. For the reason being, well, he had a little make out sesh after his last class with Jiho.

Jaemin wasn't intentionally doing it just to spite you, its just Jiho was a great kisser. And maybe to get information about you, just a little. But that did not happen because he did not have the chance to actually talk to her about you as his mouth was a little preoccupied.

As he walked through the hallway, a door suddenly opened, which revealed you, hair dishevelled and your shirt was wrinkled. He knew that posture too well, out of all people, he's the one most familiar of it. You just did the nasty with someone.

In the school grounds? Jaemin scoffs. He was about to approach you when another body also came out of the room.

No way. No fucking way! Jaemin's eyes went wild, his jaw slowly parts as he saw who it was. He quickly hides behind one of the lockers to avoid you seeing him, only peeking his head a bit to confirm what he just saw.

Nurse Suh. You're sleeping with the school nurse. Jaemin was utterly shocked, as he contemplated on what he should do next. You're definitely not the innocent and soft girl he thought you would be, you're so far from it. And as far as he knows, Nurse Suh has a girlfriend! And not to mention, it's illegal!

"Nurse Suh?!" The three of his friends couldn't believe it either. Jaemin just could not keep the information to himself. He knew he could trust his friends.

"I mean, yes he's hot but isn't he like 34?" Jeno questioned.

"Dumbass, he's only 27. Him and my older brother are friends." Haechan said, then quickly looking back at Jaemin.

"And she's what, 22? I don't see anything wrong here." Haechan shrugged. Of course, out of all of them, Haechan would find this situation fine. He had slept with a teacher before, and called it his 'great awakening'.

"He has a girlfriend, you fucking idiot." Renjun said, hitting Haechan in the back of the head.

"So? You gotta do what you gotta do, man. Honestly, if I was Nurse Suh, I would tap it too." Followed by a playful chuckle, Haechan got another slap in the back of the head, this time, from Jeno.

"Stop hitting me! I need to protect my braincells, I need to pass the test tomorrow, you assholes." Haechan whined, massaging his head.

"Wait, Haechan, did you not know her before?" It was Jaemin's turn to ask, genuinely curious on why Haechan never made a move on you.

Haechan is basically like Jaemin, but even more evil. Sure, they're both manwhores but Jaemin leaves nicely. As to Haechan, he would leave without saying a word and pretend to not know you the next day. While Jaemin would receive love letters, Haechan receives death threats and some hex put on him. Its not like he's bad in bed, because if he is, he wouldn't be able to get his dick wet as frequent as he is now. It's because Haechan does not care for people's feelings.

"I did, I know who she was." Haechan shrugged. All three of them looked at him.

"Why didn't you.. like... tell me about that?" Jaemin's voice was small, a bit shy with what he just said.

"Because It's kinda funny when you get turned down." Haechan had a smile on his face whilst he said it. Jeno shook his head and Renjun just scoffed.

"Please tell me you're joking." Renjun. The boy laughed even more louder while shaking his head and before he knows, a flying cushion came straight to his face. But it didn't stop Haechan from smiling like an idiot.

"You know what's ridiculous, Haechan? That fucking faded out starwars shirt, because I'm gonna make you eat it you fucker!--" Jaemin fought back, reaching out for his friend but Haechan quickly moved away from him

"I'm sorry, Jaeminnie-- but I did try to flirt with her but she's cold as ice, man. And you all know how persistent I am so when me, Lee Haechan, gave up on a girl, you know that girl's impossible. And I heard that she never dates, well, I guess now I know why." Haechan explained himself but Jaemin is still annoyed and pissed.

"So you just let your friend get his ass handed to him? You should've told Jaem, man." Jeno.

"Admit it, It's kinda funny when Jaemin gets rejected. I mean, it almost never happens. And the one time it did, we're not even there to witness it." Haechan keeps smiling, pissing off Jaemin more, but his mind is else where.

---

"I had to say, I'm surprised you called me twice this week. Am I finally cracking your fuckboy code, Na Jaemin?" Jiho had a smirk on her face when he approached Jaemin at the closed off audiotorium in the science building.

"Can you sit down first?" Jaemin scooted a bit and gave space for Jiho to sit down. He has a whole different plan today, and although inviting the girl in his usual makeout spot almost always leads up to them hooking up, this time Jaemin is persistent on asking Jiho about you.

"This is weird. Aren't you taking my skirt off?" Jiho hesitantly sat beside the boy, expecting a kiss but instead, Jaemin has his brows furrowed and seemed bothered

"What? No. Not now. I just want to ask you something." Jaemin turned his body facing Jiho.

"You're being weird." Jiho leaned away a bit, still confused about the whole situation.

"You know y/n?" Jaemin goes straight to the point. Jiho had a visible shock in her face. She never expected your name to pop out from anyone's mouth, and especially not Jaemin's.

"Yes? Why?" Slowing her words, she inspected Jaemin's features.

"Nothing. Why haven't I seen her before?" The question Jaemin is most interested about.

"She's never gonna be interested with you, or anyone. Leave her alone." Jiho suddenly stood up, turned around and walked away as fast as she can, but not as fast as Jaemin.

Before she could even leave the auditorium, Jaemin got a hold of her wrist. "Why are you this weird about her?"

"I know you think you can woo her because you're Na Jaemin and you're a fucking playboy or some shit, but I'm telling you, not even as your hook up buddy, she's worse than you. So I suggest, as your friend, stay. away. from y/n."

---

"This is totally not weird. Yeah sure, I mean, we're just following a random girl walking down the street. Totally not weird." Renjun for one was scammed into doing this. Jaemin asked him to go with him and go buy some pants in the mall for a promise for Haidilao afterwards. Ofcourse Renjun is gonna agree, because he would never pass a free hotpot.

What Jaemin failed to say is that he has a little side quest on his itenirary for today. For someone who's unbothered most of the time, Jaemin is going insane thinking about the mystery that is you. And Jiho's outburst absolutely did not help at all.

"We're not following her. We're just y'know... happens to be in the same way as her." Jaemin knew what he was saying was bullshit, and that Renjun would never believe a word he says. But he would never admit that he's letting someone go and do cartwheel on his mind for almost two weeks now.

"Except we can't walk more than ten feet closer and we've been turning in the same corners as her for about thirty minutes." Sarcasm did not need to be noted.

Jaemin didn't listen and continued walking the same direction as you. This is definitely out of his character, but he has to know you. He's been intrigued enough to actually make an effort to atleast know who you were.

Suddenly, you turned left, into a busy cafe. "You promised me Haidilao, Na Jaemin. Not coffee!" Renjun started being a little irritated. He's hungry, exhausted and disappointed from Jaemin's fake promises. He doesn't need coffee right now, and hell, he's not gonna sit inside a cafe when he could have hotpot right now!

"Jesus, shut the fuck up!" Jaemin dug into his pocket and reached for his phone, typing for a minute and Renjun felt his own phone vibrated.

"Nice. I'll see you later, Sherlock Holmes." Jaemin sent Renjun money for hotpot, which quickly shifted the boy's mood.

"You're useless!" Jaemin yelled as Renjun walked away. "You love me!" Renjun replied with a smile as he skips away.

Jaemin hesitated a bit if he should enter the cafe. Is it too much just to suddenly show up where you are? No. This is the townsquare, students from his and your school are frequents here. It's not gonna be weird. Right, definitely.

The cafe is full packed, quite a line forming. There seems ro be no tables available, but Jaemin still decides to go inside. But as soon as he steps inside the cafe, his feet turned ice cold.

"Alright! I know, I'm sorry!" He sees you hurriedly putting on your apron, as another man seemingly upset with you. He quickly steps into the line of customers, and he just hopes that once he's on the counter, you would be the one serving him.

Jaemin thought he had time to calculate how he's gonna approach you, but the line was quickly moving, and he swear, he's fucking nervous. What if you didn't remember him? Or find him weird for being here?

As the last one in front of him turned to leave, he's finally infront of you. Unfortunately, you weren't looking and focused on the monitor in front of you.

"Uhm," he cleared his throat, trying to get your attention.

"What can I get you, sir?" Your customer service voice was obvious, and quite frankly, annoying. You smiled brightly at him, which he deemed so fake.

"Iced Americano, small." Jaemin's voice was deeper than usual, partly because he's nervous, and maybe because he wanted a cool guy impression.

"You literally followed me here just to get a small americano?" The humour in your voice makes Jaemin embarassed. Wide eyed, Jaemin feigned confusion, not wanting to be caught in 4k.

"I wasn't following y-you?" One thing Jaemin was bad at, was definitely lying. The way he stuttered at his last word says so.

You fought a smirk, again, leaving poor Jaemin feeling so little. "Sure, and the gravity isn't real."

"I swear, I'm not--"

"I'm on a break by 6:30. One small americano, right, sir?" You smiled at him, and Jaemin can fucking feel it. His heart skipping a beat.

"Make that large."

----

His drink already warm, ice all melted into one bland coffee, Jaemin started to feel pathetic. He's been sitting here, on the side of the cafe for almost three hours. He's realizing how stupid he is for doing all of this for someone who's not even that... special. He doesn't know you. You're pretty, yes, but there's always gonna be another girl who's prettier. Maybe its his dick thinking and doing the decisions earlier, but Jaemin saw his entire reputation go so far down if anybody knew he waited for you for three fucking hours. He never knew he could do all of this for a pussy he can easily get with other girls who would even beg for him.

Simmering in his own thoughts, Jaemin huffs and almost stood up to leave, Until he saw his phone, 6:29.

Shit, only one more minute wouldn't hurt anybody? No. Fuck her for playing hard to get. I'm Na fucking Jaemin! Who does she think she is?!

Just as Jaemin actually stood up, he saw you walking slowly towards him while undoing your apron, smile on your face making his knees literally weak that he had to sit down again.

"Leaving already?" You asked, sitting in front of him.

"I-I was just... stretching my legs." If his friends are here to hear the words he just said, he might just jump off a cliff.

"Sure. Now, tell me, Na Jaemin-ssi. What the fuck do you want from me?" Okay, now this, Jaemin did not expect this. Your words sounded harsh but your soft voice says otherwise. Being passive aggresive just makes Jaemin confused all over again.

But fuck it, you wanna play hard? Jaemin can do that. His patience wearing thin, he leaned back on the chair and smirked, almost like flipping on a switch in his aura.

"I want to fuck you." Jaemin didn't whisper, or even lower his voice. He said it so casually, and he noticed your confident stare flinch for a bit.

"I would, but I'm afraid you're not my type." Its like you two were having an asshole-off and seeing who's more cockier than the other. Jaemin isn't competitive, but he's not gonna lose this one.

"Don't be silly. I'm everybody's type." Jaemin definitely won by that line. Or so he thoughts.

"Judging from words on the streets, You're a walking STD. I think I'm gonna pass." This time, Jaemin's sure that you're just pissing him off. Maybe this is your way of playing hard to get, but Jaemin likes to play dirty.

"I fuck a lot but I'm clean, and even if that happens, I'm sure your little school nurse friend can help you." Visible shock in your face, its clear that Jaemin pushed your buttons. Your confident facade slowly shaking, as you gulped and blink trying to process what he just said.

But that didn't last long, only seconds after, you pulled back your smirk. "Oh, you've done some research, I see."

"Now come on, pretty girl. What do you say?" He started to feel it. He's cracking your hard shell.

"Are you really good in bed as they say you were?"

"Go on and ask your friend."

---

"Holy f-fuck, J-jaemin.. shit.. slowdown!" Your table aggressively banging as you bent over it, Jaemin mercilessly pistoning you from behind. His pants not even half way down his thighs, the lower hem of his shirt in between his teeth, showing his glistening abs flexing as he thrusts.

His left hand locking both yours behind your back, and his right hand keeping your head on the table, facing your side. Your mesh tights has been ripped, your skirt all the way up your stomach. One by one, your things that was left on the table started to fall on the ground, as Jaemin's aggressive thrusts forcefully moves the table on a rocking motion.

"Shi.. fuck, I'm coming.." Your hoarse voice was prominent, only motivates Jaemin to hit even harder. Only grunts and growls was heard from the boy, his moans blocked by his shirt between his teeth. Jaemin wasn't only fucking you, he's proving a point aswell. To you, and to himself.

He removes his hands from your head, allowing you to look at him from behind. His free hand brushed his hair backwards, still keeping his tempo. Sweat dripping, his thrusts started to stutter. He then grabbed your face, and pulled you to his chest. Letting go of the shirt in his lips, he whispered, "Come with me, sweetheart."

His hands finding your waist as he felt your walls tighten, an intense whine leaving your mouth as your leg shakes quietly. That triggered his own release, murmuring a few curse words as all his movements halts. Only heavy breathing was heard, everything else dead silent. He slowly pulls out, earning a moan from the both of you.

"That was.." You couldn't even finish, fixing your clothes, quickly sitting at one of your chairs on the table, afraid your knees might give out.

"Intense." Jaemin tucked himself on his pants as he sat down in front of you.

"Not bad," You smirked at him, trying to keep your composure. Jaemin smirked back, proud of himself.

"I thought I wasn't your type?"

"Gotta know what's all the fuss is about. I guess the cat died and curiousity wins." Out of breath, you suddenly picked something on the floor, and Jaemin notices that its a marker that had fell from the table.

"If you wanna do this again," you stared grabbing Jaemin's arms and writing your number on it. "...give me a call, yeah?"

"How about Nurse Suh?" Jaemin didn't wanna sound like a little whiny boy but he had to ask. Is she still going to continue seeing him?

"What about him?" You raised your brows at him.

"Won't he be mad?" Jaemin can see the laugh you held in, before shaking your head.

"We're not in a relationship, and will never be. Same goes to you. We just fuck and go. I'm clean, I hope you are too, and we're not passing the line of being each other's fuck buddy. None of that corny shit, or you're out. I hope you understand, Jaeminnie, you're just a good dick with a pretty face." Your soft face does not match the words you just spilled out. And Jaemin thinks he's hit the jackpot.

No commitments? Just good sex? With you? He thinks he's in heaven. He can't wait to tell the boys about this.

If Jaemin was in the movies, he would've fisted the air and smiled like an idiot.

"Here's to good sex?" Jaemin offers his hand, which you gladly accepted. "Good sex indeed."

---

Jaemin never minded what day it is. Just as long as he did what he needs to do today, he's fine. Tomorrow will have to wait. But eversince you, suddenly he felt impatient and counted the days until he saw you again.

After a few weeks, Jaemin and you saw each other twice a week, mostly Thursdays and Sundays, the days where your schedules matched. Jaemin never knew he would be stuck with one girl for this long, but damn. You're too good. You keep Jaemin on his toes every time he sees you. You were like a gift, waiting to be opened everytime. The excitement and the thrill always feels brand new. And Jaemin would never admit it, but every week, he'd hope the other days go by quickly and wishes it was Thursday again.

"He's smiling like a creep again, Jeno! What the fuck is up with your bestfriend?!" Haechan dramatically hid behind Jeno as Jaemin walked inside their little hang out spot, the old elementay library that became abandoned throughout the renovations.

"He's apparently getting the best pussy in the campus." Jeno shrugged and pushed Haechan away before he plopped himself down the couch.

"You're banging Im Hayeon?" Haechan widen his eyes as he strides towards Jaemin.

"No, dimwit. He's fucking y/n." Renjun, unbothered as usual as he continued drawing in his iPad.

"No way-- no fucking way!" Haechan gasps, grabbing Jaemin's shoulder as he shook it. Jaemin slaps away Haechan's hands and pushed him aside to sit beside Jeno.

"Shut up, Haechan. You're being dramatic." Jaemin pulled out his phone, hoping he would see your name pop up. Surprisingly, nothing but social media notifications greeted him, message requests and follows from people he doesn't know. He checked what time it is, 2:45pm.

Okay. Its still early. She'll text later.

"In all seriousness, dude, do you guys talk? like aside from doing it-- I mean." Jeno's tone was unusual. It's like he's being careful about something, or he wants to say something.

"Yeah? The fuck? D'you think we just fuck and go? Of couse we talk. Why?" Jaemin noticed Jeno's way of talking, turning his whole body towards his bestfriend.

"She tell you something about her?" This time, Renjun and Haechan leaned in.

"Get to the point, man." Jaemin.

"Nah, cuz the girl I was with last night told me that she's really... uh, popular at her previous school." Jeno, knowing the whole context, winced at the word 'popular'.

"What do you mean?" Jaemin's smile when he came here was no longer visible, replacing it with a frown as his brows creased in nervousness.

"I don't know-- man, I think you just... ask her, y'know?" Jeno wasn't comfortable sharing the information he had, but he knew Jaemin needs to know. But he wasn't sure if he's in the place to tell it.

But Haechan did not give a fuck. He's intrigued, and before they knew it, he's deep inside his phone texting someone.

"What are you doing?" Renjun asked.

"Since Jeno is being a pussy and won't share, I'm finding it out." And a second before Haechan could even type another letter, Jeno grabbed his phone away.

"Don't! Don't fucking search it. We should respect her, man. She's still a girl and I heard it was taken down---"

Haechan gasped even louder, even breathing out an "oh my god", He didn't say it out loud but the four of them were thinking the same thing.

"Holy fuck, she has a sex tape?!" Haechan, ofcourse was the first one to break the silence.

And once again, you surprised Jaemin.

---

"I'm famished, god damn." You sat beside Jaemin on your old couch, digging a spoon on your bowl of cereal. Your top barely even buttoned, you started eating a spoonfull after another.

"Slow down, you'll--" before Jaemin even finishes, you caught something in your throat and coughed almost everything in your mouth.

"What did i tell you? Aish-" Jaemin quickly then grabbed the tissue beside the couch and started to wipe your face. He grabbed the bowl from you, putting it aside and wiping some of the milk that had spilled on you.

He then stood up and walked towards your kitchen, as if he owns the place. Next thing you know, he comes back with a glass of water in his hands.

"Thank you," you managed to blurt out in the middle of your coughing and drank the water.

"I thought you didn't have a gag reflex the way you sucked my dick earlier," Jaemin joked, earning a playful slap in his shoulder from you.

"Shut up, movies starting." Jaemin didn't give a single fuck about the movie playing on screen. Haechan's voice keeps ringing in his ear, and as much as he wanted to stay out of it and respect your privacy, something in him wants to know. Its like an itch wanting to be scratched.

"Tom Holland's like the perfect spiderm-- Jaemin?" The boy's trance was interrupted when you call his name. He didn't realize that he was staring off to nothing instead of watching the movie he picked.

"Yeah?" Jaemin blinked thrice before looking at you, your eyes peaked interest as you examined his face.

"You're out of it, what're you thinking?" You paused the movie, moving your body to fully face him.

Jaemin can't wait. He has to know. "Just curious, where did you say your last school is?" He hoped his question wasn't too obvious.

"I didn't say anything?" Okay, hold up. Plan backfired. Fuck!

"What? I-I swear you told me, like, last time? Sacre--"

"Sacred Heart. Yeah. And no, I didn't tell you about it." Like the many times, Jaemin was nervous. Again. You make him so.. unlike himself. What the fuck is it with you?

"Oh, wait, are you sure--"

"You heard about it, huh?" Jaemin couldn't tell if the smirk on your face was a good thing. He doesn't want to fuck this up, and he's starting to think he just did.

"I'm sorry, If you don't want to talk about it--"

"It's fine. It's not that bad. Hell, It could've earned so much if it was uploaded in a porn site, y'know? Stupid Mr. Nakamoto," You chuckled, nonchalantly turning your body towards the screen again, as if what you just said didn't just shocked Jaemin to the core.

The fact that you weren't bothered about it, and even sounded like you're bragging about it wasn't the main thing Jaemin was apalled by. "Mr. Nakamoto?"

You smiled, as if you were reminiscing, "He was my Biology teacher. Couldn't accept the fact that I'm leaving him so he went and blackmailed me with the video, but his phone got stolen and poof, it spread around like a wildfire. If you ask another person tho, they'd just say I spread it myself. You choose what you believe-- I don't really care." And you looked like it too. You did not care, because if you did, you wouldn't just tell all of this to Jaemin.

"Did anything happened to that assho-- Mr. Nakamoto?" Jaemin feels heated. He doesn't know why, but what he knows is he wants to suckerpunch whoever that Nakamoto is.

"Got his license removed, but you know what's even more fun?" You leaned onto him, your lips next to his ear and whispered, "His wife was so devastated her husband had to find someone younger to fuck, she filed for divorce the very next day."

And just like that, Jaemin was left speechless. Again.

---

"Jaem, someone's looking for you." Renjun tapped his friend's shoulder, pointing at the student standing on the door. Jaemin slowly opened his eyes, way too tired to even stand up, and looked who it was.

To his surprise, it was Yoon Jeonghan. He knew this would come sooner or later, since he had a.. thing with his sister for a while. But he never thought that Jeonghan cared, afterall, Jeonghan never talked to him about it.

But oh boy, was he wrong.

"Heard you're fooling around with y/n?" Jeonghan was serious. He wasn't looking at Jaemin, he's just staring ahead. His hands on his pocket, as Jaemin stood behind him, confused.

"Yeah? What about it?" He knew you and Jeonghan were friends, he often sees you with him. But why does this conversation feel more intense?

"And my sister already talked to you about it, right?" This time, Jeonghan looked at him.

"Yeah, she's being weird about it." Somehow, Jaemin wants this conversation to be about Jiho instead of you. He wishes Jeonghan was only after him because of his sister, because then, he knew what to do. But its you. Jaemin never know what to do with you.

"Because she's right. You should stay away from her, man. Just-- a friendly advice, alright?" Jaemin hated how Jeonghan sounded so sincere. What could be so awful about you that even this man, who he never even talked to, warned him about you?

"Dude, not to sound rude, but how the fuck does me fucking around with y/n, your business?" His voice slightly getting sharper, owing to the fact that he hated getting told what to do.

"You're a good man, Na. I'm sure there's more prettier-- even more fucking hotter girls than her. She's not..." Jeonghan paused, almost saying something he would regret, "... good for you. I've known her forever, and she's not the type to be with."

"I know you're older than me, and I mean this with utmost respect, you and your sister should mind your own business. I don't know what she did to you and Jiho, but she's fine. And we're not even together! We're just fooling around! Y'all are so dramatic." With that, Jaemin turned around and left Jeonghan. He sounded so unbothered by all of this, but in all honestly, he's starting to question if there's really a valid reason on why Jeonghan and Jiho was so sincere about you being apparently, a bad person.

The way you laugh at Jaemin, the way you smiled, you tell your stories, and everything Jaemin saw you do, you being a bad person doesn't make sense to him. Sure, you've done some fucked up things but Jaemin never cared about that. You showed him genuine happiness, and Jaemin could never see you in the light that Jeonghan and Jiho painted you out to be.

And just like clockwork, your name popped up in his screen. Just as if everything in the past fifteen minutes never happened, his steps became slightly faster as he grabbed his things. He couldn't be more excited to see you again.

---

"This is pretty." Jaemin pointed out a painting, whilst he dressed himself. You were also doing the same thing, but you looked at where he was pointing at.

It was your artwork from last year. The canvas was leaning beside your dresser, along with other canvasses that you never put up.

"Wonderstruck." you said. You were a bit appalled that Jaemin noticed the only work you were actually proud of. It wasn't even displayed in the front, it was almost entirely covered by unfinished canvasses.

"Wonderstruck? That's its name? It's really beautiful." Jaemin sounded sincere, he really found the painting pretty. It was a couple, sitting by a river on golden hour. Sky was the shade of orange and blue, nighttime seeking in but the sun's still there, laying real low. It was in a middle of a field, lavender flowers scattered around.

It was new to you, men showing interest on something more than your face and body. It sparked something in you, Jaemin knew that with the way you jumped out of your bed, biting your lip, hesitating for a second, "Want to show you something."

"What do you think?" You were standing beside your kitchen table, with a few printed photos of people Jaemin didn't know. It was all in black in white, and all of them showed genuine smiles.

"Cool. Who are they?" Jaemin was adjusting his belt as he scanned every picture. The way you're looking so innocent and fluffy, showing him your photo collection can fool a person into thinking you did not just have mindblowing sex minutes prior. Jaemin stifles a laugh.

You, in your overalls smiled so brightly at him, excited that Jaemin showed interest on your work. "They're random people I saw on the street." You were fidgety, kept on arranging the photos. Looking at Jaemin for any signs of validation. Jaemin thought you were so cute, but he never said it out loud.

"Is it for your project?" Now, Jaemin doesn't have a single clue about the Art department in his school, but he knew it's important for you, so he tried his best.

"No. I just did it." You took one picture and showed it to him upclose. "I just like to see people smiling, you know? There's just something so precious with asking people to smile for you. Because when they do, you can tell that they just feel.. pretty. And I like making people feel pretty." You were so caught up in explaining that you didn't notice how Jaemin was looking at you. And he was thankful you didn't see it.

The way his eyes just expressed a thousand strings of emotions he's afraid to show almost felt dangerous, he didn't want to get caught. But for a moment, he let it happen because he was sure you were focused on something else. All the while he was focused on you. Because while you were explaining how smiling makes people pretty, he was thinking that you didn't need to smile and he's already thinking that you were the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes on.

But before you could even looked at him, Jaemin quickly focused his gaze on the photo you were showing him. "That's cool. But I never knew you were into photography aswell. I thought you were into paintings only."

"I'm into art, Jaem. And art comes with different things. Although I like painting more, photography is my second favorite. Here, before you go," Swiftly, you grabbed your polaroid camera and stood beside Jaemin, putting your arms around his shoulder making you stand on your tippy toes, and angling the camera where it could capture you both. Jaemin was caught by surprise but he still managed to smile and pull you tighter.

As soon as the flash disappeared, you removed yourself from him and grabbed the film. "This one's for you, so you could remember who your best sex was." She winked at him and chuckled before going back to rearrange her photos.

Jaemin, on the other hand, his eyes never left your figure. He was in awe, he was amazed, and fuck it, he was wonderstruck. But most importantly, he was fucking scared.

---

The next thursday came, and surprisingly, you didn't call. Jaemin liked to think you were just busy, so he never reached out. There's still sunday, he thought. And even if you didn't reach out this sunday, its okay. It's not like you had to keep the schedule, right?

Besides, Jaemin was busy aswell. He's planning Jeno's birthday. Usually, Renjun and Haechan was the one assigned to planning parties, but Renjun was occupied and Haechan wasn't feeling it. They were still helping Jaemin, its just that Jaemin wanted to throw a party for his bestfriend this time. Also, to take his mind off of you for a bit.

If he wasn't busy and occupied with something, Jaemin might go insane thinking about where you are or why you haven't been calling him. So he initiated.

"How fucking long is your list, Jaemin?" Renjun couldn't believe how long he's been scrolling through Jaemin's list for the party invitations. Yet, he isn't surprised.

"You know you can just announce that you're throwing a party and literally everyone who knows you and Jeno will come, right?" Haechan, laying on the couch scrolling mindlessly on his phone.

"Nah, I don't want some weirdo showing up uninvited." Jaemin pointed out, but he left out another reason. He wanted to waste time on listing names just to get you out his mind even for a short time.

"Well don't forget about Jisung's best friend." Haechan smirked.

"Jeno's brother's bestfriend? That's weirdly specific, bro." Jaemin added, shrugging his shoulders. Still, he wrote it down.

"A little birdie told me that Jeno has a thing for his brother's bestfriend." Haechan chuckled, fixing his glasses.

"What? How come I never knew that?" Jaemin asked. He's Jeno's best friend and an information like this would surely come up. Yet its the first time he's heard of this.

"That's because you're so far up that mystery y/n girl's ass you're starting to look like anal beads, bro." Renjun winced at Haechan's choice of words, but then again, he's used to it.

"I'm not, dude. I'm here most of the time, aren't I?" Jaemin looked at Renjun for validation, but he just rolled his eyes at him.

"He's actually right, Jaemin. You're whipped." Renjun added, smirking.

"What the fuck are you talking about? I'm literally here in front of you guys, on a thursday, which I'm supposed to be with her-- but I'm not because she didn't call-- but also because I want to be with you ass--"

"The more you talk, the more you prove our point. You're fucking whipped, Na Jaemin." Haechan sat down properly, playfull shoving Jaemin to provoke him. Jaemin just hit Haechan's hands away but that didn't stop the boy from annoying him.

"Think of it, dude. You went through two months with her-- only her. Two months-- dude. That's fucking bizarre for you. It's either that pussy was gold, or-- just like what we're saying, your ass is whipped." Haechan was pissing Jaemin off, not because he doesn't agree, its because he does. And admitting that would just fuck up everything you two have.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You guys are tripping, big time. I'm not whipped." Lies tasted bitter in his mouth. He might just be whipped.

He walked out of their hangout room, and just as he opened the door, his eyes widen. You were there, standing with your messy bun, clueless eyes and a box in your hand.

"H-hey?" Jaemin was caught offguard, as he closed the door behind him.

"That room looks like it stinks."

Jaemin chuckled, it does. "Mostly of weed and old furniture. What's up?"

"I,- uh, baked some cookies. Just-- y'know, wanted you to have some." You awkwardly raised your box of cookies to present them to Jaemin, and it takes so much of him not to melt on the spot.

"Thank you," Jaemin resisted the urge to call you 'baby', mostly because he didn't know if he was allowed to do it outside your apartment.

"Tell you what-- why don't we eat it together?" Jaemin.

"I'm free until 4:30?"

"Cool, we can go to the garden, there's barely any student there."

Jaemin smiled and grabbed you by your wrist. "But I know a much more cooler place."

"Really? Where?" Jaemin stopped, and it was your turn to hold him by the wrist.

Jaemin didn't ask, he just let you drag him anywhere. You could take him to a lion's den, he wouldn't care. Anywhere is fine with him as long as you're there.

After climbing on a flight of stairs, Jaemin noticed that you two ended up on Art department building's rooftop.

He hasn't been in here, and it was.. interesting. It looks like any other rooftop, messy and full of unused class chairs, except there was a spot where there's an old couch, just like what they have on their hangout spot. There's a random mini refrigerator and a lamp-- thats it.

"This is my super secret place. Be greatful I let you in here." You squinted your eyes at Jaemin as you patted the seat beside you, basically asking him to sit.

Jaemin did so, and looked ahead. He can see the entire school campus in here.

"This is pretty." He whispered.

"Much better than your stinky room, huh?" You bragged, opening a can of cola that you have on the mini fridge.

"Hey, how come you have that? We requested to have one but the stupid school didn't let us."

"Oh, this little guy? Johnny helped me with it." You smirked, tapping the blue mini fridge.

"Johnny?" A new name in Jaemin's books. Who's Johnny?

"Nurse Suh? His name is Johnny Suh, you didn't know?"

"I didn't." His vibe went a bit south, but he didn't let that spoil your moment together. It was rare for you to approach him in school, and he wanted to have that moment.

"This is good, damn." Jaemin munched on the cookies you got for him and it was honestly tasty. Better than any other cookies he had before, or maybe he was biased and his judgement was greatly affected by the fact that you made it. Eitherway, the cookies are delicious.

"I only made one batch and even that was too much for me. I wanted to give some out but.." you paused. "Funny, you're the only one I had in mind."

"Nurse Suh?" Jaemin didn't even know why he brought the guy up again, but he did.

"Nah, we don't do that." You smiled.

"And we do?" A tinge of hope sparked in Jaemin, that maybe he had some difference between him and Nurse Suh. Maybe you do treat him more special. A guy can dream, can't he?

"Sure, we do. I mean, I can't just throw away this exceptionally good tasting cookies, can't I? And you're the only one I have right now.. so."

Jaemin was enthusiastic. He felt like he won something. He can't help but smile even more, but also, he felt bad. When you said he was the only one you have, he thought about Jiho and Jeonghan.

"What about the Yoon siblings?"

You let out a humourless chuckle, more like a scoff. "Jiho doesn't talk to me anymore and Jeonghan.. well. It's complicated."

"I swear I just saw you two eating at the cafeteria." Heck, that's how he found out about you. Because you were sitting at the cafeteria beside Jeonghan.

"He just sat with me because he felt bad I was eating alone. Also I barely go down there to eat-- so he kinda just.. I don't know. Let's not talk about them anymore, Jaem."

---

"Look at me, baby." Jaemin whispered, softly grabbing your jaw to turn your head towards him. He has you on your side, holding your right thigh up as he slowy thrust. He can see that you're near, and damn, he can feel it too.

"J-jaem.." You start shaking, as your entire body give out. Looking into his eyes, his own pleasure wasn't on the table anymore, he just wants you to feel good. He can safely say that you are indeed the prettiest when you cum, and he's glad he can see you this way.

"That's right, sweetheart. Let go for me, will you?" This was very different on how you usually do it with him. You were usually intense, rough and fast, but something about tonight feels more... passionate. Jaemin never went any faster than his current tempo, yet he still hits every spot. Slow and deep, while he looks at your face, admiring the beauty he's glad he had the priviledge to see.

"Kiss me, Jaemin." You didn't even have to ask twice, Jaemin already dipped his head lower to reach your lips, tasting you while your walls tightens, your whimpers covered by his own lips, you just came.

Once Jaemin pulls away, he pulls a few strings of hair strands away your face to see you. Your eyes glistening, and not long when you let a tear drop. Jaemin could never wish for anything more than this.

"You're so beautiful, y/n." He whispered, more to himself, than to you.

"Thank you." You softly answered, smiling at him and giving him another kiss. Jaemin then let go of your thigh, instead wrapping his arms on your waist. It seems like you got the idea that he's near his climax so you positioned yourself in a way that he gets more of you, sticking your backside out more thus facing away from him.

"No, no, princess keep looking at me." Jaemin whispered and you followed, facing him again.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" You asked sensually. His thrust slightly getting deeper, but never faster. His eyes went back and forth with both of your eyes as he nodded.

"For you, my love." He mumbled. His jaw slightly ajar, brows furrowed as he let out a deep moan, abruptly staying still and you felt his release warming up your walls.

"You did so good, Jaemin. So, so good." Your compliments just adds to his pleasure. Shivers ran down his spine, he manages to calm himself after his intense climax.

"You're so good to me. I lik--" Before Jaemin finishes, you pulled away from him.

"I'm taking a piss." You said, forcing yourself to stand up and walk your way to the bathroom.

And just like how he felt so good seconds before, it suddenly got washed away with the feeling of dismay. He can't believe he just attempted to say that. Fuck. Running his hands on his face, he mentally curses himself for being wreckless.

You were still in the bathroom when Jaemin heard a few knocks. He's confused, grabbing his phone to look at the time.

9:47pm. Who could visit you at this time?

He grabbed his boxers and quickly putting it on, as well as his shirt but he didn't bother to make himself presentable. He opened the door and his eyes widen.

"Nurse Suh?" He eyed the tall man, and the guy eyed him too. Both of them are confused as to why the other is standing where they are.

"Na Jaemin? What the hell are you doing here?" Johnny wasn't even sure why he was asking that, it's clear with Jaemin's shuffled hair and obviously--- him in his boxers.

"I'm sure you know the answer to that." Jaemin sounded rude, but he does not give a shit. Nurse Suh poses as a threat to him and your-- uh, situationship -- and Jaemin doesn't have a reason to be nice to him.

"Where is she?" Johnny's voice was full of concern, as he looked past the younger boy just to get a glimpse inside your apartment. That's until Jaemin steps outside, and closing the door behind him.

"What do you want from her?" Jaemin looks at him, and although the guy was taller and has a bigger built, again, he doesn't care.

"I'm sure you know the answer to that." Johnny's tone and him mocking Jaemin pissed him more. Letting out a huge breath, Jaemin looked at him straight in the eyes.

"You know-- you're whole relationship with her is fucked up, right?" Johnny was surprised on how Jaemin just turned off the calm facade. He didn't expect him to be triggered like this

"What relationship? You out of all people should know she doesn't do relationsh--"

"Yeah, whatever. You can't fuck around with her anymore, man. You're a fucking school staff, and she's a student. Also, you have a fucking girlfriend. I don't know how you're okay with this."

"The same way she's okay with it. Look, kid," Johnny closed his eyes and massaged his temples, he continued. "... me and her, we've been through some shit. Shit that you can't handle. But I know.. man, you care for her. And I don't want to hear your bullshit, you do care for her. And I do too. But she's not the kind to be with, y'know? She's gonna ruin--"

"Fuck! You weren't the only one who fucking told me that. I don't know what she did to you, but she's fine with me. If you think of her as this fucking tragedy on legs, then maybe you don't really care, don't you? But I do. So get off my fucking ass and don't see her again. Or I'm gonna have to report you." Jaemin didn't know where all of his words came from, but it did feel good. He doesn't think about the consequences of everything, but one thing's for sure. He's not gonna let anyone talk shit about you anymore.

Johnny, tho, never flinched. Instead, he smirks and even let out a chuckle. "You've got some nerves, kid. Okay. I'll back off. But don't come running back when she breaks you." he then turned around and got ready to leave, but a few steps in, he turned to Jaemin again.

"...oh, and tell her Happy birthday."

Jaemin stood there for a minute, watching Johnny leave. It's your birthday? How come you never said anything?

After a few deep breaths, he went inside the apartment again. Just in time when you walked out the bathroom, hair all wet and with a set of new pajamas.

"You done?" Jaemin approached with a smile.

"Yeah. You wanna take a shower?" You looked up at him. He shook his head as he patted your head. "You hungry?" he asked.

You smiled even more, looking up at him expectantly, "Please?"

"Okay. I'll go get us some food, alright? You don't worry your pretty little head." Jaemin gave you a kiss on the top of your head before getting his pants and keys, walking out of the apartment.

Not even half an hour, Jaemin came back. Not only with takeout, but also a bento box. You looked at him kind of confused on what it is, but when he opened it, your eyes widen. It was a small cake that he bought on the convenience store. He wanted a much more expensive one but he also wants to get back to you as soon as possible.

He then pulled out a small candle, sticking it onto the cake. Pulling out a newly bought lighter, and lighting the candle. "Happy birthday, princess. Make a wish." He smiles softly at you.

When all of this was happening, you didn't say a thing. You just looked at him with your glassy eyes, your mouth slightly apart. You blinked hard and fast before finally tracing back to yourself, "I'm.. how did you know?" you asked.

"Doesn't matter. Now come on, candle's burning out." Thats when you looked down on the candle, quickly closing your eyes, clasping your hands together as you thought hard about what you're wishing. Seconds after, you opened your eyes and blew on the candle.

Jaemin was still smiling, setting the small cake aside to give you a kiss on your forehead. He was surprised when your arms wrapped around his waist.

"Why do you have to make me so happy, Jaem? You make it so hard. So hard." You whispered, but Jaemin heard everything. He desparately wanted to answer, because he had an answer. And its something he's afraid to tell you. Because the result was uncertain. Its either it goes perfectly well, or he lose you. And he's not gonna take that risk.

So instead, he just returned your embrace, but even more tighter, giving you another kiss on your forehead. "I don't know." he answered quietly, lying to you and to himself.

"You're a good person, Jaem. Anyone would be lucky to have you." Your vulnerable voice made Jaemin feel warm. In a way, you sounded truthful. You felt genuine.

"You're lucky, then." Slowly, Jaemin. Lay it on her slowly.

"I can't have you." Your bitter smile showed.

"Why not?" Every second counted, every breath you take suddenly mattered.

"I can't do that to you," With a shaking voice, you buried your face in his chest even more.

"I don't understa--"

"Just shut up, shut the fuck up and let me have this." And with that, Jaemin never muttered another word. Instead, he just held you closer like this was the last time he gets to do so.

"Jaem?" You looked up at him, Jaemin looked dow n at you with his eyebrows up.

"I'm sorry." You said. And Jaemin didn't want to ask why you were apologizing, he doesn't like to know the reason behind it. Because he doesn't want you to give him a reason why he needs to forgive you about something.

---

"I think I'm inlove with her."

"Ya think?" Jeno, deep inside his phone, seems like he's stressed about something. Never minding his best friend's struggle, because everybody already knew Jaemin was inlove with you. It's not new information.

"Fuck! Shit!" Both their heads turn as they saw Renjun ran inside their hangout spot and closed the door.

"Hell is wrong with you?" Jaemin asked, but Renjun ignored him and proceeds to lock the door.

"Why's everybody so weird today?" Jaemin mumbled.

It is a very weird day for Jaemin. Somehow, he feels like something's not right. Well, yeah, his undying love for you was one thing he was stressed about but there's more, today's not like every other day, he thought.

That goes on for the rest of his morning. Its like he's waiting on something to happen, like everybody was so tense. You didn't text or call either, which was feeding onto Jaemin's paranoia. It's not like he's being clingy, but he's genuinely feeling something unsettling in his chest.

Maybe it was the coffee he had this morning, or maybe the fact that he's never had this dilemma about a girl before.

So, finally giving up his pride, he texted you.

4:50pm jaemin: wya

4:52pm jaemin: heyy

4:58pm jaemin: ??

You not answering definitely did not help. So, the next big thing he can come up with was go to your apartment. Not a smart choice but Jaemin never once claimed to be smart.

Once he took a step towards your door, for a moment. Jaemin regretted going here. He can see that your lights are on, and can hear shuffling inside. But fuck it, he's already here.

He thought you had someone over, maybe Johnny, or someone else. That made him heated. But the closer he was on your front door, he heard yelling-- and another voice, which he could tell was from a girl.

The door was ajar-- and once he was right infront of it, he could hear everything.

"Y/N! Please! Not him-- he's a good person. You know that!" He confirmed that it was Jiho who was arguing with you.

"I don't care what you feel, Jiho. Get the fuck out of my apartment!"

"Leave Jaemin alone--" Once Jaemin heard his name, his feet froze on the spot.

"Why the fuck are you so nosy? Is it because I stole your little Na Jaemin? Then go ahead! Get him back! But, oh-- newsflash, he doesn't want you anymore. Washed up and used--" The sound of a slap made Jaemin finally interfere. He walked up inside your apartment and saw you holding your cheek and Jiho crying. Both of them looked at him shocked.

"What are you doing here?" Jiho was the first one to speak, but Jaemin's eyes were focused on you.

"Did you just hurt her?" Jaemin was angry. The sight of your cheeks red and the fact that he knows Jiho just slapped you didn't sit right with him.

"Didn't you heard what she said?! Didn't you fucking understand what kind of person she is?" Jiho cried even more, she couldn't believe that someone as sweet as Jaemin would side with the most vile person she knows.

"Doesn't give you the right to hurt her." Jaemin threw all his principles away at this point. He doesn't care anymore.

"You're poisoning his mind, Y/N!" Jiho shouted, which you just smirked at her. Jaemin can't find the warmth inside your eyes, he just saw something empty.

"I didn't do shit, Jiho. Maybe you should just learn how to get out of my fucking trail. Or should I do something? Should I break your brother's heart for the second time?" Jaemin didn't know this version of you. Its like you've thrown away every emotion you have just to spite everyone.

"Don't you fucking dare." Jiho attempted to step towards you again but Jaemin put himself in between you and Jiho.

"Just go, Jiho." Jaemin calmly said.

Jiho didn't say anything, and let out a huge puff before walking out of the apartment, sobbing. She slammed the door shut and quickly the room went silent. None of you dared to talk for the first couple of minutes.

"I didn't want you here," you started.

Jaemin didn't say anything, instead, picking up some things that fell on the floor, trying to fix the apartment. Your paint brushes, your keys, and even some of your photos were on the floor. Must've been a very intense argument.

"Did you hear me, Jaemin? I don't want you here!" your voice strained, Jaemin pretended not to hear you as he continue to clean up the mess.

"Are you hungry? Want me to get you dinner?" Jaemin's voice was as normal as it can be. It doesn't make sense to you. But everything in this situation doesn't make sense.

Jaemin should be mad. Jaemin should go and leave you. Jaemin wasn't supposed to stay.

"Whatever-- do what you want. I'm going to bed."

Jaemin likes to think that in a couple of hours, you'll come up and be in a great mood. Sun shining and all that corny shit. Jaemin was also overly enthusiastic, one that masks with the real thing he's feeling right now. Nervous. Worried.

For a couple of days. Jaemin tried his best to get you out of your apartment because remember, you two are students. You were supposed to go to school. But you never left your bed. And for the first few days, Jaemin didn't go to school too. He was in your apartment day and night, looking after you. This wasn't like you before, Jaemin swears its like you're a whole new different person.

You didn't talk, didn't want to get up, and he knows damn well you aren't sleeping for the past days. You just layed there, emotionless.

He didn't know why he was doing this. You weren't you anymore and Jaemin doesn't know who he was even taking care of anymore. But he's still here. He's still with you.

The third day went and Jaemin is still in your apartment. Ignoring his friends-- and shit, even his mom. He doesn't want them to know why he's MIA for the past few days. He doesn't want everyone to know yours and his business. Whatever happenes between you two, stays between you two.

Jaemin woke up with you sitting on the kitchen. Eyes staring at nowhere, hair dishevelled and bags under your eyes forming.

"Goodmorning," Jaemin said in his sweet voice, careful not to scare you.

"I don't know how many times I should tell you this, but you should go, Jaemin. While I'm being nice." Even your voice sounds like a stranger. The pinch of joy that used to come with your voice were no longer there.

"I will, but I need to make sure you're fine---"

"I'm fine! I don't fucking need you here!" You yelled, Jaemin flinched but still remained calm.

"Are you hungry--"

"Maybe you've become dumb and stupid that you can't comprehend a simple fucking sentence, huh? I'm done with you, Jaemin. I'm sorry but you're useless to me now. I need a new face around here and yours is--"

"You really want me to leave?" Jaemin sincerely asked, like he was tired. Your eyes lifted, and you nodded.

"Yes." Jaemin's lips formed a thin line, his jaw clenched.

"Fine." He calmly walked away-- and convinced he can't take it anymore. He was tired mentally, emotionally and physically. You didn't want to be helped and Jaemin knew he can't handle you.

But as soon as the door shut behind him, his feet stood frozen as he waited. And not even a couple of minutes, the sound of your sobbing on the other side of the door made Jaemin turn his steps.

He was tired, but not fatigued. He knew he couldn't handle you but he can try. You didn't want to be helped but maybe tomorrow you change your mind. And maybe, just maybe, he can take another day.

"Breakfast, y/n. Come on." Jaemin, the fourth day. He went home for a bit, took a shower, but quickly went back to your place. And in his surprise, you were out of bed.

He can hear the faucet running, so he knew you were in the bathroom.

A few moments later, he heard you coming out of the shower. And there you are, hair all wet, freshen up after a few dreadful days and Jaemin was starting to see the color coming back in your skin.

"You feeling better, baby?" He softly asked.

"What are you still doing here?"

Jaemin didn't say anything, instead, giving you the most precious smile he had. "Come on, I cooked pancakes."

"Jaemin, get out. We're done, Jaemin. Get the fuck out!" Tears started forming again in your newly healed eyes, as you pointed out the door.

"I'm not leaving you, y/n." Finally, Jaemin acknowledged the situation.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, huh? When I say we're done, we're done, Jaemin. Can't get that through your thick head?" Words spew like venom, Jaemin starting to feel like he's staring at a stranger. Who is this person in front of him?

"I know you're upset and you haven't eaten a proper meal in days--"

"The fuck do you care?" And with that, you ticked something off from Jaemin.

"Fuck do I care?! Y/N, you've pushed everyone around you away and I was the one who stayed! For days I didn't go anywhere and stayed with you, y/n. Do I care?! Because even if I don't know what the fuck is going on with you I still fucking stayed! So yeah, I'd like to think that I care for you because I fucking lo-- shit!" Jaemin caught himself before actually saying the thing. He knows its a deal breaker if he said it but hopefully, you already felt it.

"Did I ask you to do all of that shit?"

Jaemin can almost feel his heart shatter. You really didn't care about him, or his feelings. He had a little bit of hope. And with a single sentence, you destroyed it.

Jaemin let out a humourless chuckle. "Fine. We're fucking done, y/n."

---

It's been a week and Jaemin's friends started to worry. Jaemin barely ate-- didn't attend his classes and barely got out of their hangout spot. Jeno had a call with his mom and told him that Jaemin didn't once contact them in almost a month. And thats where Jeno knew something was wrong. Jaemin loved his mom-- and he would never ghost her.

"Man, I don't know what to do. He just flicked me off when I offered him ramen." Haechan was serious. You barely see him being this concerned-- but even him, knows something was wrong with Jaemin.

"Is it about that y/n girl?" Renjun asked.

"Probably. I mean, eversince she came into the picture Jaemin basically became a different person." Jeno haven't met you yet, but this, what you're doing to his bestfriend definitely isn't giving a good impression.

"Maybe they're done. If Jaemin's looking like this and haven't mentioned a single thing about her, I think that's what this is." Renjun said, looking at his friend, and his sleeping figure.

"I have an idea." Haechan stood up and huddled his friends, but Jeno and Renjun stepped away. "No, Haechan, you don't."

"What? At least I'm trying to help our friend!" He grabbed both of his friends again, "Anyways-- we should introduce him to another girl. Get him back in the game, y'know?"

"What are we talking about?" The three of them almost jumped when Jaemin was suddenly huddled with them.

"Nothing! We're just thinking about how much booze we're buying for Jeno's party." Haechan's quick wits came into action but Jaemin didn't buy it.

"Stop being weird." He casually walked back to the sofa and plopped himself down again.

Jeno tho, had enough. "You're weird! What the fuck is with this act, bro? You look lovesick or some shit."

"m not doing anything, the fuck are you on about?" Jeno got even more pissed, because Jaemin was blatantly lying.

"That girl you're with is causing trouble, dude. You're barely going to class, we haven't seen you in days, you didn't call your mom in a week and just for her to fuck with the school nurse?" Jeno's still calm, not wanting to escalate the situation. But he figured that Jaemin needs to hear it one way of another.

Jaemin was visibly confused. What did Jeno mean about you with nurse suh? Didn't he already dealt with that?

"Saw her yesterday at the nearby convenience store with Nurse Suh. I don't know, dude but she's not worth all this shit. And I don't even wanna talk about the stuff I heard about her previous school, man." Haechan was a little hesitant about confronting Jaemin, but since Jeno has already started it he's got no choice but to just say it.

"You're out of your mind if you think you have the right to say all that shit. You don't even know her." Every word that Jaemin says was delivered with so much intensity, even the boys were starting to feel uneasy.

"We're just confused Jaem, eversince you met that y/n girl its like you became a whole new perso--" Renjun was cut off when Jaemin let out a scoff.

"Okay, I see what's going on here. If we're airing out our business here then let me have my fucking turn." Jaemin stepped towards Jeno, "You, aren't you shagging your lil bro's bestfriend? Yeah? Guess what, so is half the school."

"Hey, the hell? What's wrong with you, man?" Haechan interfered. He knew the look that Jeno has right now was serious, and he also knew that if he didn't get in between them, chaos will ensue. So he quickly stepped beside Jeno.

"What the fuck do you know about me and her, Renjun? I minded my own business when you went out with your girl out of pity." Jaemin doesn't know where that came from, but it already went out his lips. He wasn't the one to say things like that but somehow it came out. Renjun was fazed, to say the least.

"And you--" Jaemin let out an sigh and smirked, slowly turning towards Haechan. "You talk high and mighty but everybody knows you're a fucking cheater, Lee Haechan. So you, especially you, doesn't have the right to even mutter a thing about her. Because if we're talking about being an asshole, you take the fucking throne." Jaemin's eyes are empty, and so his mind. He just wanted to say anything to get back at his friends without thinking.

"Fuck you, man. Seriously. All this for that girl? You look fucking pathetic, Na Jaemin." Jeno was aggravated and fuming, but he was never gonna go down with violence, specially with his best friend. He knew better.

"It doesn't even fucking matter what you think about her anymore, cuz y'know what? We're done. She doesn't wanna see me anymore. So go ahead and talk shit about her but make sure I'm not in the fucking room next time." The room was silent, they didn't know what to say. Obviously because this was the first time they saw Jaemin like this.

"I think this shit got out of hand, I know you're upset but we're just genuinely concerned, dude." Renjun, now on the much calmer side, tries to difuse the situation.

"Okay, I'm just gonna ignore what you said because I know you're upset, Jaemin. But come on, man, you've met her what? For two months? And you're already losing yourself? I swear if this could be any other girl I wouldn't say anything but man.. she's only trouble. And you can get angry at us all you want but I'm glad you got out of that situation." This side of Haechan was rarely seen, because it only comes out when they need it the most. And for Jaemin, its also rare that he agrees with Haechan but this time, he did.

For the next week, Jaemin tried to bring himself back, and his friends noticed it too. He became active again, going to parties with them and even got back to planning on Jeno's birthday party. There was no sign of you, your name or your presence. Jaemin was starting his old ways again, meeting some girls here and there.

"Hey, what did I tell ya, huh? She's great, isn't she?" Haechan grinned at him, as they walked together.

"Nah, I've had better." Jaemin non-chalantly said.

Haechan looked at his friend, smile slowly getting bigger. "There's the asshole I know, glad you're back to the game, man!" Haechan with his proudest smile, shook Jaemin playfully and but the boy did nothing but chuckle.

His friends were satisfied and pretty much convinced that you were completely out of Jaemin's system. To see Jaemin go back to whatever he was before you, definitely brought back the Jaemin they knew.

"Happy birthday, man! Whew, how does it feel to be an old hag?" Haechan joked as he hugged Jeno, Jeno just playfully pushed him away.

The music was loud and people were starting to fill up Jeno's house. It's his parent's house and they were out of town, as per Jeno's request on his birthday. No one wants to party with their parents, ofcourse.

To say that Jaemin pulled off the party planning was an understatement. It was only 8pm and the party is already packed. Jaemin really outdid himself on this one, also with a little help from Haechan and Renjun.

"Happy birthday, Lee! This party is fucking lit, dude!" Yangyang, from engineering department went and greeted Jeno. "We've got Jaemin to thank for that." Jeno responded loudly, trying to communicate among the loud music.

"Yeah-- where's Na?" Yangyang asked, and Jeno was clueless as him. He knew Jaemin was in the house, he saw him earlier. But after that he never saw him again.

His eyes went around the room to find atleast Haechan or Renjun, and he only found Renjun on the side, in his phone. "He's around, somewhere." Jeno answered, bidding goodbye to the friend and walked across the room to approach Renjun.

"Where's Jaemin?" Jeno managed to ask.

"Upstairs with the girl Haechan introduced him to!" Renjun wiggled his eyebrows at Jeno, and Jeno nodded in agreement. At least he knew Jaemin was having fun.

Little did they know, Jaemin wasn't having fun.

"Come on, Jaemin.. how long does it take?" The girl whispered sexually, kissing his neck like its her last meal.

"Just.. don't talk." Usually it doesn't take Jaemin this long to get hard, but the girl just doesn't do it for him. Its been almost thirty minutes and Jaemin is getting tired, but he also doesn't want to disappoint, so he tries his best to focus on the girl, but he just couldn't.

His phone constantly vibrating doesn't help, so he grabbed it and threw it on the other side of the bed.

Jaemin closed his eyes, felt every single touch and did the worst thing he could ever do to himself. He imagined it was you.

You were touching him, kissing him and giving him warmth. It's you he's with, not this girl, not any girl. Its you. And it worked. It brought back memories of you that sparked something in his body. Small waves of pleasure started. And just as he's slowly starting to function, he heard the door open.

Jaemin's back was facing the door but the girl on his lap can see who just entered. The little mindgames in his head was interupted when the sound of the door brought him back to reality.

"What the fuck? This room is occupied!" The girl with him yelled, completely destroying the fantasy Jaemin created in his head. He's back to square one again, and this time he's not trying again.

As soon as the intruder left, Jaemin lifted the girl off his lap. "Sorry, Cindy, bab--" he can't even call her 'baby'. "--but you need to go."

Jaemin didn't wait for her answer and left her on the bed while he walked and locked himself on the bathroom.

As soon as he knew that the girl had officially left, that's when he went out to his room again. His hands finding his phone, he checked what time it is. 9pm.

Jaemin brushed his hands through his hair, frustrated and strssed.

He ignored the multiple chat that Jeno and Renjun had sent, and went to an food delivery app instead.

Delivery Status: Successful

Items: 1 Full Steak Meal with Pineapple Juice and NY Cheesecake

Total: 80,000krw

Notes: Don't skip a meal :) -J

Jaemin has been sending food to your place for the past week. In exactly 9pm, when he knew you'd usually have your dinner.

The next morning, he woke up fine. He didn't really drink much so he didn't have any sort of headaches or symptoms of a bad hangover.

The house was eerily quiet, as usual, the morning after a very big party.

He was the first to wake up and the whole house was trashed. He didn't expect anything else, ofcourse seeing the amount of people last night.

He knew all four of them was still in the house tho, maybe a couple of girls, so as the designated sober person he took the initiative to prepare breakfast. It was calming for Jaemin to take care of people.

Not long after he heard a couple of footsteps, and of course, it was Renjun.

"Mornin'" Renjun, hair sticking out everywhere, still in his clothes from last night.

"Had fun last night?" Jaemin asked, smirking.

"Didn't you read the texts I sent you last night?" Renjun asked. Jaemin's smirk disappeared.

"What text?"

"Jeno wouldn't want me to tell you this but... she was here. She was looking for you but Jeno and I didn't tell her where you were. She knew that you were here because she told us you invited her a while ago, she looks so.. tired. And then she asked Jisung, who doesn't have a clue with the whole y/n situation so he told her that you were upstairs." Renjun thought that Jaemin needed to know what happened. Jeno thought otherwise.

Jaemin felt his blood drain out of his body. He remembered someone knocking and opening the door to where he was with a girl last night, but he didn't know who it was. Jaemin's heart was racing. He was sure it was you. And he was also sure how fucked up it is to find him like that.

Jaemin didn't say anything, grabbing his keys as he left Renjun thinking if he made the right decision.

"Y/n! Y/n!" Jaemin was knocking on your door with urgency, and after a few, the door opened.

You were there. Standing in front of him but why can't Jaemin find any familiarity?

You were so different. You've lost weight. You're not you-- yet his heart still beats the same. His eyes still found warmth as you looked at him. The smile that left no trace on your face still lingered around Jaemin's memories and for that he still knows that somehow, you're still you.

"Hey." You whispered. You sounded weak.

Jaemin was about to hug you-- confront you about last night but once his eyes left the beauty that is your face, his heart skipped a beat. His body froze, he felt like time stopped.

Your shirt. Your fucking shirt. You're wearing a faded out starwars shirt.

"W-what are you wearing?"

"Oh this? Ah, right! Tell Haechan thank you for last night-" You smiled, the sweetest smile that Jaemin once loved, was now stabbing him in the chest.

"Don't..-- Why are you-- I don't understand.." Jaemin finally broke down, eyes letting go of the tears he held. You're breaking him down-- you're ruining him.

"What? You thought I was better?"

"Y/n.. don't do this to me.." Jaemin whispered. Knees giving out, yet he remained still.

"I don't know what to tell you, Jaemin. I'm everything they told you I would be."

"You're just.. cruel. My friend, y/n? My fucking friend?" In contrast with his cursing, his tone wasn't angry. It was despair.

"Will you leave me now?"

"Did you.. did you sleep with him?" Stupid question.

"I don't know, Jaemin. Did I?"

"You're.. fuck, y/n you're just cruel. Cruel and fucking unfair. Whatever did I do to you?" His voice strained. Drip-drop.

"Do you finally hate me?" Drip-drop.

Drip-drop.

Drip...drop.

"Yeah.. yeah I think I do."

And there it was. The last drop of Jaemin's feelings for you. Congratulations, y/n. You've finally drained him out of love.

---

Three days, Jaemin went off the grid. He stayed with his mom, giving himself a break.

He didn't want to contact any of his friends. At least not for now. He knew he still had that pent up anger towards Haechan, and he don't want to do anything that would result in him being violent. He knew that it was all your plan, just to get him to leave you alone.

What he couldn't understand is why Haechan did it. Haechan knew what Jaemin felt for you, like shit, he knew before Jaemin even knew for himself. He was one of the people who made Jaemin realize his feelings for you.

He wished he had listened to everybody and just left you alone. He wished he took everyone's advice and minded his own business. Maybe all of this wouldn't have happened.

Eventually he had to comeback. His school isn't very much happy with him and its not like its the end of the world. Everything is moving on but him, and nobody likes to be left behind.

As soon as his friends saw him, Haechan froze. He quickly tried and approached Jaemin. "Dude. Where were you? Everybody was looking for you--"

"Don't touch me, Lee Haechan." Jaemin wasn't angry, but he wasn't calm either. His tone is strong and firm, enough to stop Haechan from his tracks.

"Is this about Jeno's birthday?" Jaemin wanted to punch Haechan for even bringing it up. How could he?

"I swear to God if you don't step back--"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Jaemin?" Renjun was the one to interfere this time.

"What's wrong with me? This fucker slept with y/n and you're asking me what's wrong with me, Huang?!"

"Hold up-- hold the fuck up, What do you mean?" Jeno, eyes going back and forth between Haechan and Jaemin.

"She told you we slept together?" Haechan was legitamately confused.

"She was wearing your ugly ass shirt, Haechan."

"Yeah because I lent it to her? She was at the party and I accidentally bumped into her and she got alcohol spilled all over her shirt, Jaemin. So I had to fucking give her a shirt and then she ran away right after. You think I'd do that to you?!" Haechan was fully arguing with him now but Jaemin had remained silent.

Then why did you let him think that you did it? Why would you put him through this? Are you that desparate to make Jaemin hate you?

Jaemin brushed his palm all over his face. He was dumbfounded. He then plops down on the couch, deliberately thinking about the past few days he spent trying to get you off his head. And he thought he was damn near on succeeding, but the sudden information struck him down again.

And just as the tension was slowly coming down, a sudden intrusion on their room made the four of them look at the door.

"He's here? Na Jaemin!" Jiho burst through the door, passing through the three boys who were too caught in the moment to stop her.

"J-Jiho.." Jaemin stood up again, as Jiho stood in front of him.

"What did you do?!" Jiho was frustrated and angry, to say the least.

"Let's calm down," Renjun, the forever pacifist meekly attempted to delute the situation in hand.

"No! I told you, Jaemin! We told you to stay away from her!" Jiho.

"Are you blaming him? Your friend is a pathological liar who likes to play with peopl--" Jiho angrily turned towards Jeno, making the boy stop his rant.

"You're not part of this." Jiho then looked at Jaemin again.

"We're done, Jiho. I don't want her anymore. I don't want anything to do with her--"

Jiho smirked, "She left, Jaemin. She pulled out of school."

The room filled with silence, and it was so loud. Nobody wanted to say anything, partly because they were waiting for Jaemin to react.

"She-- what?" Jaemin was shocked. His body didn't know how to react. Every bones started to feel loose, it was so eerily quiet that it feels like he can count the seconds it takes for his heart to beat again.

Jiho's tears started to flow. "She was sober for six months, you know? We thought we finally fixed her-- she was doing fine. And then you-- you just had to come in and ruin everything."

"I don't underst--"

"I don't want to blame it all on you, because I know you're also hurt-- but Jaemin we begged you to stay away from her. But you didn't. You--" Jiho sat down, hands on her face, shoulders shaking.

"S-she--" Jaemin couldn't form a sentence.

"Where were you? In the past three days, Jaemin, where were you?" Jiho took a sharp breath, raising her head and looked at Jaemin once again.

"I was at my mom's..." Jaemin answered meekly.

"I found out last Thursday. When you saw us fighting at her apartment, that was when I caught her doing drugs. I was trying to--, fuck, I was trying to throw it away and then she got angry and started to talk about you. I guess she felt that you were by the door and started to talk about you.." Jaemin remembers that clear as day. The day you visibly changed right in front of his eyes.

"She left Sacred Heart last year because of the scandal. It hit her so bad, and that's when it started. She was introduced to drugs and later diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Me and Jeonghan knew her from our childhood and we did our best to help her. And then she went out with Jeonghan and that's when our falling apart happened. She broke my brother's heart and I can't even blame her because I know she only did it because she wants everyone to leave her. She thinks she's a burden to everybody. And then Nurse Suh came into the picture and helped her to get free medication, and when she did, eventually her addiction stopped. And then you happened, and for a while she was so happy. But suddenly Nurse Suh cut her off and the medication stopped. That's why she drove you away, Jaemin. You know what she told Jeonghan before she left? She said that you didn't deserve to be with her."

"She can't leave, did you check the apartment?" Denial. Jaemin can't process everything yet. He doesn't want to.

"Her stuff's out of the apartment. We found this," Jiho pulled out a polaroid picture. Jiho reached out to Jaemin, swiftly before letting go of the photo.

"She's a good person, Jaemin. She's just broken. I know you did your best, but we can't help a person who doesn't want to be helped. I just hope you don't hate her forever." Jiho then walked away.

Jeno, Haechan and Renjun was silent. They didn't say anything, not to disturb their friend's moment of silence. One by one, the left the room, leaving Jaemin and a photo that had a glimpse of a moment where you were once his.

It was the picture of you and Jaemin. Happily smiling. Upon seeing the photo, Jaemin finally broke down.

At the back, there was something written.

Hi, Jaem. Thank you for the food you've been sending! Although I didn't eat it, I still know that it's delicious!! Remember when we talked about photography? How I love people's smile? Guess what? I think yours is my favorite. So please keep wearing it. You're precious, Jaem. I am so sorry for everything. I hope you get the love that you deserve. Do me a favor and forget me, will you? -y/n :)

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

"Is it on?" Jaemin was a giggling mess, infront of you as you filmed him beside you on your bed, nothing but the sheets.

"It is! Okay, ladies and gents,--"

"This man right here," You booped his nose, "Just gave me a mind blowing orgasm about.. hm, six minutes ago?" Jaemin laughed at the camera, before wiggling his eyebrows at it. "I did, one of my proudest talents."

"Shut up!" you laughed. "Anyways, Mr. Jaemin-ssi. Tell the whole world your age and what you want to be when you grow up!" You giggled, focusing the camera on his bare face. His eyes heavy, smile reaching his eyes.

"22, and yours." He whispered as he looked at your eyes instead of the camera lense.

"What? You barely said anything!"

"I just did what you told me, baby. I told my whole world what my age was and what I wanted to be." Jaemin can see the sudden rush of color on your cheeks. You frowned cutely.

"You're a loser." A tinge of smile you desperately hid made Jaemin laugh. He likes it when you pretend you don't like his corny takes.

Jaemin then grabbed the camera, now turned it to you, also nothing but the sheets and bare face. Jaemin is convinced this is what heaven must look like.

"Now to my pretty interviewer-- aren't you gorgeous?" You jokingly cleared your throat, smiled so big that it could make anyone blind.

"Hi, I'm y/n, Jaemin's pretty interviewer."

"So, my pretty girl. 5 years from now, how do you see yourself?" You were a bit unprepared with Jaemin's question, he sees it the way your smiles faltered a bit.

It took you a minute before you answered, "Better. I hope I can be better so I can take care of this little manchild." You somehow turned it light, grabbing the camera from Jaemin and pointing at him.

"Well, y/n from 5 years from now, I'm glad-- I hope, I'm still there by your side."

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

"Yeri, I've told you a hundred times, she's my mother so you need to treat her with respect!" Jaemin can't help but yell, just as he followed Yeri out of the restaurant.

"She doesn't like me, Jaemin! Gosh your mother is so-, I'm not dealing with her shit anymore, Jaemin!" Yeri yelled back, stomping her feet as she walked toward's Jaemin's car.

Yeri is Jaemin's girlfriend for four months. He went out with her upon his father's request and to his mother's dismay. His father thought Jaemin could finally settle down with a woman after you.

Jaemin can't help but grunt, looking up, frustrated and honestly just tired. Everyday he questions why he's even with Yeri. The girl did nothing but drain his wallet, disrespect his mother and treat him like a trophy boyfriend.

"She's not allowed in our apartment anymore," Yeri said as she settles herself on Jaemin's passenger seat.

"What apartment? It's my apartment and you sleep there, Yeri. And you can't just-- ban my mother from my place!" Jaemin has already forgotten the time where him and Yeri never argued.

"Did you see the way she looked at me? And you're gonna sit there and not defend me?" Jaemin admits that his mother did have a distaste with his girlfriend, but never once did his mother did anything to show that. She is not that kind of person and Jaemin's sure he's not the only one to vouch for that.

"She was trying to make a conversation and you blatantly ignored her, Yeri."

"I didn't like her tone." she rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone as Jaemin drove. He decided not to talk anymore, mostly because he doesn't want to argue anymore.

"What're we doing here?" Yeri saw that he parked outside her apartment complex.

"I need time for myself, Yeri. I can't handle you anymore." He expressed with utmost respect.

"Are you kidding me? You're kicking me out of your place?!" Yeri squealed, almost making Jaemin cover his ears.

"You can disrespect me but not my mom, Yeri."

Yeri smirked, crossed her arms on her chest, and looked at Jaemin. "You're trash, Jaemin. Such a fucking mama's boy. I bet this isn't even about your mother, huh? Still about that bitch who left y--"

"Get out or I'm gonna have to drag you out, Yeri. Please." Thankfully, Yeri did get out, but not walking away before she slams the door, making Jaemin flinch a bit. He makes sure the Yeri actually went in the building before he drove off.

He pulled out his phone, texting his mom. He decided that he'll just go back to the restaurant and apologize for Yeri's behavior. He knew that his mom was hurt, and he can't let the night pass without comforting his mom.

Luckily, the restaurant is near where he was so it took him about ten minutes to go back. Getting out of his car, he wondered if his parents are still there.

Looking further inside the restaurant, he didn't notice someone walking out the door so inevitably, he bumped and collided with a man. He quickly bows, "I'm sorry, man."

"No worries," Jaemin was a bit perplexed on how deep the man's voice is, but shrugged it off anyways.

"Felix!"

Jaemin felt his heart stop a beat. He knows that voice.

"I'm here," The man responded.

Jaemin was frozen on the spot. He was afraid to look behind him and put a face in to the voice he just heard, but he's sure as hell he's not leaving this spot without knowing who it is.

"Excuse me," This time, the woman was much closer to him as she walked pass Jaemin.

His breath hitched, time slows down as he saw the back of her head.

Before she could even take a step further, Jaemin grabbed her wrists, not thinking of anything,-- just the fact that he desparately wanted to see her face.

"Hey!-- What,-- Jaemin?"

There you are.

Jaemin gulped before blinking to see if he was just hallucinating but there you really are. "Y/N," he whispered, more to himself.

"You know him?" The man, who he assumes was Felix, asked, looking at Jaemin's hands on your wrist. It brought Jaemin back to reality, and swiftly let go of your hand.

"Y-yeah," Your cheeks burned, not letting your eyes away from Jaemin. It was like everyone else blurred out, and you two were the only ones in the room.

"You okay, man?" Thats when Jaemin realized that his jaw was actually a bit slacked, staring at you for a solid minute now. He shook his head to look at Felix,

"Yeah. Uh, y/n, how-- how are you?" Jaemin's breathing was starting to get abnormal, as he was really shocked to see you here.

"Good," you cleared your throat, "Great, actually. Uhm, Felix, this is Jaemin," "Jaemin, Felix." The two shook hands, Felix was still visibly confused but Jaemin was still stuck on you.

"Old friend?" Felix asked.

"Is that what she told you?" Jaemin, glancing on you.

"Yes?" Felix was starting to feel uncomfortable, as he had no clue what the heck is happening in front of him. You two looked perplexed and out of it, to say the least.

"I--, We need to go, Felix. Hey, uhm, Jaemin-?" It was obvious you were aghast, just like Jaemin.

Jaemin looked back at you again, "Yeah?"

"I'll see you around?" You uttered.

"Okay." Jaemin said quietly.

The two started to walk away from Jaemin, but Jaemin was left there frozen. In his own thoughts, drowing in memories about you. Everything came crashing back on him and it was overwhelming. After so long, you still had that power over him. You still manage to get his guard down.

This is fucking dangerous. Jaemin shouldn't even feel like this. One look, one word-- and its like his whole being fell again. Is destiny truly fucking with him? He took so long-- months, to get you out his system. Or at least burn it so deep inside his brain along with the memories you have. And for what? All of it being opened like a freshly sewed wound, all because of a three second interaction?

That night, Jaemin went home with a feeling so familiar. Like he wanted to find you again. Just like the first time he saw you at that cafeteria. He wonders if he'll see you again.

Actually, no. He will make sure to see you again.

---

"You can't break up with me,"

Jaemin sighed, he didn't know what else to do. This was the only way Jaemin thought of, specially after his encounter with you. He knew the effect you had on him that night wasn't the innocent 'seeing your friend after long time' type of thing. He knew there's more to it.

"I'm sorry," and he really is. He didn't want to string Yeri along, and doesn't want to give her false hope that this relationship is going somewhere.

"Is this about your stupid mom? Fine, I'll apologize!" The thing with his mom was also a big thing in coming to this decision. Jaemin likes to think that even if he didn't see you that night, this breakup was inevitable. It was coming, sooner or later.

"Don't-- don't call my mother like that, Yeri, please. And no, there's more to it. Please, I want a clean breakup," Jaemin didn't want to elaborate, he didn't want to hurt Yeri even more.

"You can't leave me, Jaemin! We have a party to attend-- I already told them about you! Do you want me to be embarrassed?" Of course. Of course its about the fucking party.

Jaemin was a trophy for Yeri. Handsome and rich, Yeri bragged about having him in her palms. Jaemin never complained about it but it does bother him. And Yeri bringing it up now just showed him how Yeri never really cared about this relationship.

"You can find a new boy toy, somewhere else, Yeri. I'm done." He's not gonna lie, there's still a pang of guilt when he walked away from Yeri. He knew it was unavoidable, yet it with you in the picture again, it does play a huge part.

"A fucking toast for the newly single man! I'm so proud of you for letting that devil reincarnate go!" Haechan was beyond sober, as he welcomed Jaemin who just came a few minutes earlier.

"You really did it, huh?" Renjun smiled, putting his arm around Jaemin's shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess." Jaemin shrugged. Every moment feels important to him. He doesn't have any idea when you'll show up again. So he better not drink even a drop of alcohol, just in case.

"Why the long face?" Jeno was buzzed aswell, completely leaning on the bar couch. Eyes barely open, he's been drinking quite a lot lately.

"Nothing," Jaemin doesn't want to say anything about you and his' encounter, he didn't want to jinx it.

The bar was loud and busy, yet Jaemin was quiet and stuffy. He does feel relieved, breaking up with Yeri was a huge weight off of his shoulder. But he can't get off his mind the words you said.

"I'll see you around?"

Where exactly is around? When will you see him? Is it in the same restaurant? Will you text him to meet? Is that Felix guy your boyfriend?

"You're such a bore, Jaemin. Not even a shot?" Its a mystery how Jeno managed to stand on his feet with how drunk he is but he still did, handing Jaemin a shot, which Jaemin refused.

"Not in the mood,"

"Whatever. Y'know, eversince that gi-"

Before Jeno could even finish, Renjun, which had a little to zero alcohol in his system quickly pulled Jeno down beside him.

"I'll sew your mouth close, Lee. Now sit down and let me fucking find the other Lee." He was referring to Haechan, which also is drunk out of his mind, but still ran into the sea of people on the dancefloor.

"I need a breather," Jaemin decided to go outside the bar, but making sure that Jeno is well situated first before leaving the poor man laying in the couch.

In every other situation, he would've loved to match Jeno's energy and got drunk as much as his best friend, but this time he is truly not in the best condition to do so.

As soon as the bar's door closed behind him, the sudden silence was almost deafening. Which Jaemin wouldn't tell if its much worse than being inside, since he was left with only his thoughts and the street in front of him.

He crossed the road into a nearby convenience store, wanting some water or any drink that could possibly soothe his mind.

"Thank you," He bowed to the cashier, as he paid for the drink in hand.

The store was empty. Just him, the staff, and some random music quietly surrounding the store.

He sat by the stools, contemplating if he should just go home. Phone dead, he disregarded the idea of calling Renjun, who he is sure would prefer to be with him in this quiet convenience store rather than to babysit two grown adults who can't seem to handle their alcohol.

Dropping the phone on the side of the table, Jaemin quietly opened and drank the coca cola he bought. He just now realized that this was his dinner. He forgot to eat. Funny, Jaemin being a big advocate of not skipping a meal, skips a meal.

The dingling sound of the door was heard, Jaemin never bothered to look because again, this is a 7/11. People come and go. A slight set of footsteps was also prominent, seemingly roaming around the store.

"Can I sit here?"

Wide eyes, heart skipping a beat. The music was suddenly gone and everything else blurred out.

"Y-Y/N." He stuttered. He can't swiftly grasp the situation before you sat down the stool beside him.

"Hi." Your hair a bit shorter, cheeks a bit fuller, carrying a shade of pink, your figure covered with a thick coat.

You placed a couple of kimbap in front of you and a coca cola, same as his.

"What are you doing here?" Jaemin, carefully picking his choice of words as to not show any signs of discomfort.

"I was passing by and.. actually, no. I followed you here." For a moment there, you sounded like you wanted to lie, but backtracked and told Jaemin the truth.

"Did you now?" Jaemin remembered when he followed you that one time, and it feels like the tables have turned.

"Yeah, figured we needed to talk." You were timid, can't barely see Jaemin eye to eye. From his memories, you were always confident with what you say. So seeing this demeanor in front of him was a change.

"How are you?" Jaemin asked, genuinely curious.

"Never been better," You answered back, with a full chest and a heave of deep breath like you were relieved.

"I'm glad," Every last word was quickly followed by a complete silence.

After a few moments of deep thought, Jaemin wasn't sure what to say. Yes, before you showed up, questions was flooding in his brain. Asking for answers on why you left, why'd you lie and most importantly, why did you break him for no reason.

Jaemin's thoughts mustve been loud, hence the next dentence that came out of your lips.

"I'm guessing you have questions?"

Maybe Jaemin should've had a few shots before, to ease the tension and gain liquid courage, because fuck, he doesn't think he can handle this tonight.

But for the months you were gone, Jaemin isn't gonna pass this rare chance that you showed up, much more, showing up to talk to him properly.

"Why'd you leave?" Three words that circulated Jaemin's mind on those months you were gone. A question he asked himself a lot of times.

You were still for a bit, likely thinking about the answer. Jaemin could explode at any moment, he feels.

"I signed myself up for rehabilitation."

This wasn't the answer Jaemin expected. Its somehow a blow, to him, because he was angry at you for flaking on him for no reason. But now that you answered one of the many questions he had, it made Jaemin regret some of the things he had thought of about you. His guilt crept in.

"I-, I didn't know."

"Only a few knew about that. You were one of the unlucky ones to have suffered from it, so I thought you needed atleast an explanation." You smiled bitterly, still looking outside, whilst Jaemin looked at your side profile.

You continued. "I assume Jiho had filled you up with some of my dilemmas after I left. But trust me, Jaemin. I never intended to hurt you. You're so undeserving of the things I did but I had to make you hate me. I knew you cared for me back then, more than I had anticipated and I never really wanted to give myself that. I knew I can't receive love I didn't deserve. And I can feel it too, Jaem.." you paused.

Jaem. Oh how he missed the way you called him that.

".. I can feel that you really wanted to fix me. And you truly tried your best. But back then I didn't want to be fixed. And its unfair to have you selfishly. I never slept with your friend, I just made you believe that. I wanted you to despise me, to never think about me ever again." Well, you failed on that part, big time.

"Just hoped you gave me a chance to take care of you," Jaemin muttered.

"I'm not that evil to give you a burden like that,"

"You were never a burden to me,"

You let out a humourless grin, "I'd like to believe that, but we both know that's not true. For as long as I remember, I had been apologizing for just.. existing."

"I could've been there, y/n. I could've helped you."

"No, Jaemin. I don't think so, cuz even then, I couldn't even help myself." You spoke with great sincerity.

Another cruel moment of silence passed, and it was the most intense yet. None of you spoke, as if your thoughts were connected and understood each other without even saying a word.

"You really fucked me up, you know." It was now or never for Jaemin. Might as well open the can of worms now, and regret everything later. He might not have the same courage and opportunity as now.

"I did. And I'm so.. so sorry."

"But it's fine, y/n. I was young and naive, I guess I needed that. I already forgave you, fuck it, I don't even need to because I never truly hated you. All I did was love you, and even after you broke me, I still did." Looking into the distance, after so many failed attempts, he finally said it out loud. He was ready to risk it all, again.

"And I knew that, Jaemin. And maybe, I did love you too but back then I didn't know what love is. It was so scary and overwhelming that even from a distance, I already despised that kind of feeling."

"Are you... happy?" Jaemin thought about the man you were with. And at this moment, your answer was crucial, as it was a defining moment of what step or path he should go next.

"Yes. Are you?" Looking at him, you saw his eyes fill with unspoken comprehension of what its like to be happy and sad at the same time.

Happy that you're doing great, sad because he had just accepted the fact that you're much better with somebody else.

"I have no idea." And that was the truth. He wasn't sure if theres a word that could describe how he feels.

"Yeri, right? I heard from someone that you're with her. She seems great," Oh, what a great timing.

"We broke up already."

You widen your eyes and smiled awkwardly, "I'm sorry,"

"No, its okay. It wasn't working anyways. It was bound to happen sooner or later. You and Felix?"

"He's a great friend. He helped me with sobriety and therapy." Friend? Is that so?

"I thought you were dating," Jaemin liked the way this is going, it gave him hope.

"No, not really, never had anyone after you."

Is Jaemin supposed to be proud? Nonetheless, he felt a slight flutter in his chest. He was about to make a decision that will ultimately trash the imaginary walls he tried to build.

"Have.. have you thought about what we could've been?" Oh, what a risky question.

"Yeah, even back then, I always dreamed about an alternate universe where I wasn't so fucked up and actually tried something with you." Okay. You seem fine now, you seem on track. It wouldn't hurt to try again, right? Jaemin wanted to slap himself. Do he really want to risk it again?

"You could still.. try." The answer is yes.

You furrowed your brows, tilted your head a bit, "I don't think you deserve another heartbreak, specially from me, you know?" You chuckled, yet Jaemin was serious. This time, he's set to have you. He has to have you.

"I'll gladly let you break my heart again, y/n. Trust me, you'll only find yourself inside."

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

Maybe Jaemin was setting himself up for another heartbreak, but this time he was certain. He was certain to give it his all-- everything he has to lose. You were worth every piece of his heart.

He kissed your lips like he held his entire life on it, like every moment were his last. Running your hands on his hair, you two blindly roamed around your apartment. Luckily, Jaemin still had the entire apartment sketched in his brain.

You felt his hands lower, lifting up your ass, signaling you to jump and cling onto him. You gladly did, and like a feather, he lifted you without any struggle. Lips still tangled together, Jaemin lowered you into the soft texture of your bed.

"I missed you so much," Jaemin groaned as he parted his lips from you. Seeing your face against the dimly lit room was majestic. Not long before he lowered his face onto your neck, giving it open mouth kisses that sent shivers down your spine.

Slowly, he tugged on your shirt upwards, lifted it and revealed your soft pink laced bra, covering your breast. Jaemin didn't waste time grabbed one of you breast, caressing it gently, just enough to bring you pleasure without discomfort.

"Hmm, I missed this," He groaned again.

You whined, being sensitive to every touch he gave you. His hands worked like magic, pulling down your bra and swiftly latching his mouth on your left nipple, while still caressing the other. "Ah, fuck.. baby." you moaned.

You can feel your core dripping already, desperate for any kind of friction. His expert hands left your boob, yet not leaving your skin, just lowering to the area you were sensitive the most. In a split second, your pants was undone and a cold breeze on your center gave you goosebumps all over. "So wet for me,"

"Yes.. yes, please, touch me." You begged for him. You needed him.

"You don't need to beg, princess." Just then, his middle finger applied pressure on your dripping core, igniting a spark that felt so good-- you couldn't help but buck your hips onto his hands.

He was gonna love you, and you were gonna love him. Tomorrow's uncertain, but today was sure. You were meant to be his, and he's meant to be yours.

Let your heart get what it wants. If you get hurt, then you have to endure. Jaemin endured the entire time and its your time to gamble.

While Jaemin was still devouring every inch of your skin, you took this chance to touch his clothed member- already rock hard, seeking freedom from the confinement of his pants. You traced it before gripping it through the fabric, making Jaemin hiss in pleasure.

"Take.. it off." Barely composing a sentence, Jaemin understood the assignment and pulled away, to undress himself. His top came off first, and just like a reflex, your hands quickly find his toned chest, down to his abs. You can't help but bite your lip, seeing his body again after so long. The only difference is, this time, he has a more mature build.

Tracing your hand down to his lower abdomen, and even much lower, and helped him undo his pants. As he disregarded all of his clothes, he didn't waste time and quickly lowered himself again to you. Kissing you with burning passion, he grind his hips onto yours, and you felt his hard length poking your thigh.

Using your hand, you grabbed it by the base, Jaemin reacting so sensitive made you excited. Your hands doing up and down motion, pointing finger tracing the slit on his pinkish tip.

"Fuck.. fuck baby, god." Jaemin couldn't help but groan deeply, urging you to move faster. Your movement all of a sudden halt, as Jaemin held your wrist, stopping you. "I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that." His dark voice whispered.

"Already?" You smirked at him.

"You underestimate your effect on me, baby." Truly, you were the only person who could melt Jaemin into a puddle if you wanted to.

His hand balancing himself on top of you, as the other held his cock, lining himself onto your entrance.

"Ah.. ah, shit," You moaned, caused by the stretch. A slight tinge of pain but quickly replaced by a wave of intense pleasure as he deeply plunges until you take all of him.

"So.. so fucking tight, oh fuck." Jaemin waited for your signal to keep moving. Which you did, by lifting your hips up to create any sort of movement. He swiftly pull out, just to go in again.

"I love you," Jaemin cried from pleasure, his tempo slowly gaining speed.

"I love you so much," you replied, grabbing his face to look at you as he fucks you with intense affection.

"Y/n, y/n.. I love you." He repeated like a mantra, going in and out repeatedly. You can feel your insides creating a bubble-- soon going to pop. He examines all of your features, "Cum for me." He murmured.

You nodded in response, biting your lip, yet not losing eye contact. A sudden wave of pleasure struck, and before you knew it, you're shaking under him. "I.. I love you."

"I'm cumming, shi..." You locked your legs on his waist, as he stilled so deep, reaching levels of your insides no one has ever reachex before. He cums, deep inside you and you felt his warm, thick ropes of cum paint your insides. His body collapses on top of you, heavy breathing surrounded the apartment.

Honestly, Jaemin didn't care if you hurt him again, Heck, break him again and again. Run away if you can, but he would make sure that he'll be here, always waiting for you. Break his heart for all he cares. You'll only find yourself there.

"Let's go, baby. They can't wait to meet you." Jaemin smiled at you softly, opening the car door before letting you in.

"I really get the feeling that they hate me." You nervously said, as Jaemin went around the car and sat at the driver seat.

"They actually did, back then. But now they're a lot less dumber." You laughed at him.

This was the first time Jaemin will introduce you to his friends. Even tho you knew that they already know you from the past, you wanted to introduce your new self. The self thats much better.

As you arrived at their shared apartment, you can already hear the noise behind the door. You looked at Jaemin with anticipation, as he opened the door.

"There she is! Hi, y/n!" Haechan, which you have encountered before, greeted you with a big smile. He was approaching with wide arms, which Jaemin quickly swats away.

"No." Jaemin simply says as he put his arms around you and dragged you further in the house.

There, you saw Jeno and Renjun playing Jenga. As soon as you sat down, the tower had fallen. Renjun frowning, Jeno with a big smile.

"Oh hi, y/n. Renjun just lost in Jenga, again." The cocky grin was present in Jeno's face.

"That doesn't count! We should play again, this time with y/n!"

You were quiet, but not because you were uncomfortable, but because you were slowly digesting everything. You felt so belonged with these people that its felt a bit weird, in a good way.

You smiled at them, looking back at Jaemin who's walking towards you with a drink in hand. "Thirsty, baby?" His smile was enchanting, and so, so gorgeous.

The time goes on and it all felt natural. It was the first time you saw Jaemin laugh that much, and it made you happier than ever. Then and there, you have concluded that you will never hurt this man again. This time, you'll try to make this work, because you knew he was the only one for you.

And even if the gods and the heaven above curse you for loving selfishly, you wouldn't care. Jaemin is the perfect man for you. And you can't let that smile fade again.

"What're you thinking?" Jaemin whispered, above all the noise from his friends.

"I love you."

And if you thought Jaemin's smile couldn't get any bigger, it did.

"I love you." He answered.

This time, you'll get your happy ending. You choose your happiness and Jaemin. Forever, you will choose Jaemin. Because you realize that after everything, even fiction itself, got nothing on this man.

-end-

A/N: I know it took so long to publish but again, I'm a bit busy! But how was it?? I hope you liked the first installation of my series, diary of the heart breakers! Thank you so much.

taglist: @cutiepeas @legbouk@hyuckissed @bockhyun @hibernatinghamster@shookyungsoo@sundamariis@sharkipoonis@ohmykwonsoonyoung@carelessshootanonymous

next part >> Inevitably Yours

#nct imagines #kpop imagines #nct x reader #kpop oneshots #nct #nct dream #kpop au #nct 127 #nct aus #na jaemin #jaemin smut #nct jaemin #nctzen #nct mark #nct drabbles #nct fluff #lee haechan #huang renjun #lee jeno

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