The loud party music reverberated all through the house, shaking the ground under your feet and blaring in your ringing ears. But as you stood in the threshold of the living room, all you heard was the raging sound of your heartbeat as you looked past all the people, zeroing in on two people—your boyfriend with your best friend. You hadn't even planned on coming to this party; you were just going to get a bunch of snacks and binge-watch a new show.

However, when your friend told you that she had seen Mingi with your best friend, you refused to believe her. She was the one who told you about the party and how Mingi was gonna be there. So here you were, standing in the doorway, rage bubbling in your gut and your eyes glued to where your boyfriend and best friend were dancing together, her ass pressed right against his dick while he kissed her neck. They might as well have been fucking in front of everyone there.

At first, you didn't want to believe that Mingi would ever cheat on you; he was the sweetest and most honest man you've ever met. But now, as you stand here and watch him feel up your best friend, you feel sick. Tears brimmed in your eyes, fingers balling into fists at your sides. You were thankful that Sana had said something to you, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

The pain you felt quickly built into even more rage, your sadness buried underneath it. Your jaw clenched tight as you watched Mingi turn Zoe around, his hands going straight to her ass as she pulled him down for a kiss.

"Hey y/n, I thought you weren't coming tonight." Yunho, Mingi's best friend, walked over, a wide grin on his flushed face, a red solo cup in his hand. That smile quickly faded the moment you turned your head to look at him. Anger was plastered perfectly on your features, and he looked over to where you had been looking, his eyes widening when he saw Mingi and Zoe in the middle of a heated makeout.

"I need a drink." You were seething, pure anger laced in your words, and your shoulders were trembling with rage. Yunho didn't get a chance to say anything before you were shoving past him, towards the kitchen.

"Hey, wait!" Yunho called after you, reaching out to grab your arm. A chill ran down his spine when you turned to look at him with a piercing glare, and he released his hold. He watched as you walked away, silently cursing himself.

Making your way down the hallway, you get to the crowded dining room, and you start shoving through the dense crowd, ignoring all of the complaints and insults that were thrown at you. After a few minutes of struggling to get through the crowd, you make it to the kitchen, which, surprisingly, was empty compared to the rest of the house. You then make a beeline for the alcohol that was still lined up on the countertop, not even bothering to grab a red Solo cup before reaching out and snatching the half-filled Bacardi that was among the other bottles. Twisting off the cap, you tossed it onto the counter and brought the bottle up to your lips, chugging a few gulps, relishing in the way that it burned going down, your body growing warm.

You were so lost in your head and deafened by the loud bass that you didn't notice when a certain dark-haired male walked into the room.

"Well, who pissed in your Cheerios?" Jongho stepped into the kitchen, a smug grin plastered all over his face as he saw you. The moment his voice reached your ears, your annoyance level only spiked, having not wanted to run into him tonight, knowing that he would only piss you off more after seeing Mingi and Zoe.

Pulling the bottle away from your lips, you slammed it down on the counter, causing the bang to echo quietly in the room and the clear liquid to slosh around. You then turned to look at Jongho with a sharp glare.

"Fuck off, Jongho." You hissed, bringing the bottle back to your lips as your body swayed a bit due to the sudden intake of alcohol. However, before your lips made contact with the rim, the bottle was snatched from your hands.

"Are you trying to give yourself alcohol poisoning?" Jongho quipped, turning the bottle and reading the label on it before shrugging. The glare on your face deepened as he brought the bottle to his own lips, drinking the remaining alcohol in the bottle. Pulling it away, he tossed it into the trash can off to your left, his eyes flickering back to you, "So, what's got your panties in such a twist?"

You ignore him as you turn and grab another bottle of alcohol, not even sure what it was, but it was bright cherry red. Unscrewing the cap, bringing the bottle to your lips, and taking a long swig, this one burning more than the Bacardi. Your mind started to wander to all the things Mingi might've done behind your back, and it made you sick to your stomach. Then your best friend—well, ex-best friend now—and all of the things she must've lied to you about, causing the rage to skyrocket, threatening to blow the top off.

Then, as your eyes flickered over to Jongho, who had pulled out his phone, you never really had any real reason to hate or dislike him besides the fact that he and Mingi used to be the best of friends until a huge argument happened two years ago. You couldn't even recall what the argument was about, but it ended their seven-year friendship. When they stopped talking, Mingi didn't want you talking to him, but Jongho, being, well, Jongho, continued to bother you just to get a rise out of Mingi. At first, you ignored him, but the longer you kept being put between their bullshit, you started to grow annoyed, hence your current annoyance with him.

"If you really must know, I just caught Mingi cheating on me with Zoe." You told him, taking another drink of the alcohol, starting to feel buzzed. Jongho's eyes softened as he watched you, having known for a while now.

"I know." He told you, causing you to nearly choke on the alcohol in your hands, eyes shooting over to meet his in disbelief.

"You knew?" You asked, and he nodded with a shrug, "and you didn't?" A whole new, fresh wave of anger washed over you, fingers tightening around the neck of the bottle.

"Would you have believed me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, and just like that, some of your anger diminished as you realized he was right. You would never have believed him if he had told you about Mingi and Zoe.

The room then fell into another wave of silence, and you looked down at the bottle in your hand, eyebrows scrunched as you got lost in your thoughts. Jongho watched you for a moment before grabbing a bag of chips off the counter and opening it to grab a few.

Just then, an idea popped into your head—albeit a horrible one—and your eyes shifted from the bottle of UV vodka to the dark-haired male who stood a few feet away from you. Jongho stood there, one hand holding his phone while the other was shoved in his hoodie pocket after having put the chips back. Feeling your eyes practically burning into his skin, he looked up at you, raising an eyebrow.

"I have a proposition of sorts for you." You stated, not sure if it was the alcohol that was now coursing through your system or the anger that clouded your mind, but you wanted nothing more than to get back at Mingi. So why not use his ex-best friend, the person he hates the most, to do so? It was only fair, seeing as he used your best friend to cheat. Jongho leaned against the counter, watching you with quizzical eyes. "I caught Mingi cheating, right? So… it's only right that I get back at him." You started, swirling the liquid around in the bottle, "How would you like to help me?"

"And how exactly do you want me to help, sweetheart?" Jongho couldn't help but feel intrigued by your proposition, head tilting slightly and a smirk playing on his lips while he watched you. You started to step closer to him, the alcohol bottle hanging from your manicured hand.

"Well… you," You moved to stand just in front of him and pressing your finger to the center of his chest, "sleep with…" A smirk of your own tugged on your lips as you moved your hand to poke your own chest, "me."

"So let me get this right," Jongho started, pushing himself off the counter, "you wanna get back at your cheating boyfriend…" He trailed off as he reached forward to grab your wrist, pulling your body closer to his, "by cheating on him with his ex-best friend?"His other hand snaked around your waist, his cold fingers causing goosebumps to erupt all over your exposed skin that was peeking out from underneath your top.

Your breath hitched as he leaned down, bringing his face merely inches away from yours, the smell of rum heavy on his tongue. Heat crept up your neck, adding to the shade of red that already painted your cheeks. The heat started to make you feel lightheaded, and you swallowed thickly. Never in your wildest dreams did you think Jongho would have this kind of effect on you, but with his skin on yours and your lips merely inches away from yours, you start to realize that maybe some of your annoyance wasn't actually annoyance.

Jongho watched as your eyes flickered from his down to his lips before meeting his gaze once more. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you chewed on the soft flesh as you nodded. Tightening his grip on your waist, he leaned down until his lips were right next to your ear.

"Your place or mine?" His voice dropped an octave while his lips softly brushed your skin when he pressed a kiss on the curve of your jaw. Your breath caught in your throat, and your hands shot up to grab the edges of his jacket.

"Yours, if we can even make it there." You breathed out, eyes fluttering closed as his lips trailed down to your neck.

"I know a place," He murmurs against your skin, and no other words are spoken as he pulls away, grabs your hand, and intertwines his fingers with yours before pulling you out of the kitchen. Jongho led the both of you through the dense crowd of people, ignoring all the complaints and towards the front of the house. As he got to the front door and you glanced over, a sick sense of satisfaction bloomed in your chest as you caught the shocked look on Mingi's face right before the door closed behind you.

—

Jongho barely made it ten minutes down the road before your hands were all over him. You reached over the console, palming his growing bulge. His jaw was clenched tight as he tried to focus on driving, but when your lips made contact with his jaw, he couldn't take it anymore.

Quickly, he pulled over into the parking lot of an abandoned gas station on the corner of the block where none of the streetlights worked. You let out a sharp gasp when he slammed on his brakes. He then grabbed your wandering hand and yanked you towards him, your body bending over the center console.

"You really couldn't wait till we got back, huh?" He asked, lips brushing over the shell of your ear, and your face flushed as his alcohol laced breath fanned your neck. A small whine fell from your lips as he bit your ear, the pain making you shiver.

His lips then trailed from the curve of your jaw to your cheek before sealing your lips in a heated kiss. He let out a deep groan when he got a taste of your watermelon lip gloss. Then his eyes flickered over to his rear-view mirror and the little dash-cam that was hooked underneath it, an idea coming to mind. Pulling away from you, he smirked at your dazed expression, your lips forming a pout at the loss of his lips on yours.

"Look at you, does the thought of cheating on your boyfriend really make you that needy?" He teased, and you whined at the mention of Mingi, disgust pulling on your lips. Chuckling, Jongho leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. "Get in the backseat."

You didn't have to be told twice before you were climbing into the back, a small squeak falling from your lips when Jongho slapped your ass that was peeking out from the bottom of your skirt.

Jongho then leaned forward, turned the dash-cam on after making sure that it was facing the inside of the car. Upon seeing the little flashing red light, a smug smirk tugged on his lips, and he turned to join you in the back. Once he was next to you, he grabbed the back of your neck and brought your face closer to his.

"What— mmphh, were you doing?" You asked as he pressed his lips against yours again, making you forget all about it.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it." He smirked as his hand fell to your bare thighs, trailing up under your skirt. Your breath hitched when his fingers brushed over your hipbone. Your body was aflame with need, and your thighs were clenching together to try to relieve some of the pressure.

Pulling back, he moved back to watch as you grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, showcasing your blue lace bra. Jongho chuckled as he moved his hand to the insides of your thighs, prying them apart. Then his lips were on your neck, biting and sucking deep purple and red marks on your skin, soaking in the unfiltered moans you let out. He had always thought about what you would sound like, but this was way better than what he imagined.

"J-Jongho…" You breathed out his name, fingers threading through his hair as his lips trailed across your collarbone. His hand snaked around your back, unlatching your bra and pulling it off to let your breasts fall free.

A sharp gasp fell from your lips when he moved further down, wrapping around your nipple, teeth grazing the perked bud, sending shivers down your spine. His hand under your skirt moved further up, pressing against your clothed slit, groaning against your sensitive skin when he felt how wet you were.

"So wet for me already," Jongho pulled away from your breasts with an audible 'pop', hooded eyes burning into yours, "when was the last time that shitty boyfriend of yours fucked this pretty pussy of yours?" He growled, causing you to whine, heat rushing up your neck, and making you dizzy.

"M-Months." You choked out as he buried his face back in your chest, marking every inch of skin he could, so he knew you wouldn't be able to hide them.

Jongho scoffed, not believing that Mingi could leave you alone for so long, especially when you sound like this—look like this. He grabbed your skirt and pushed it up your hips, grabbing the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down, shoving them into his jeans pocket. Then he grabbed your knees, spreading your legs before moving to your hips to pull your body closer to him. A sharp gasp fell from your lips at the sudden movement, but was quickly swallowed by Jongho as he pressed his lips roughly against yours.

"Fucking idiot." He growled, pulling away, but caught your bottom lip between his teeth. Your hands wrapped around his forearm when his fingers split your folds. "Why don't we show him what he's missing out on, huh?" Jongho smirked, pressing his finger against your aching clit, causing your body to jolt, nails digging into his arm.

"Fuck, Jongho." You cursed, thighs going to close as his pace became ruthless. Jongho quickly caught one, holding you open. A choked gasp fell from your lips, head tilting back when he pushed his fingers into your tight cunt, stretching you open.

Stars danced across your vision when he brushed against your sweet spot, a loud moan of his name tearing through your lips. Jongho's eyes flickered over to the camera, a smug grin plastered on his face. He then leaned in closer to your face, breathing in all of your cute little pants and whines.

"Feels good, doesn't it, baby?" He asked, curling his fingers against your sweet spot once more, his thumb circling your clit, adding to the mind-numbing pleasure you were feeling. With another curl of his fingers, you could feel that little knot in the pit of your stomach tighten, eyes rolling slightly.

"J-Jon—" You were cut off by a moan, and the dark-haired male chuckled into your neck, soaking in all of your reactions and sounds. He hissed as your nails dug into the skin on his forearm, threatening to break skin.

Then, just as you felt like you were going to tumble over the edge, Jongho pulled his fingers from your needy pussy. A loud whine caught in your throat when he bit down on the junction of your shoulder before pulling away to look at you.

"Bend over the console." His voice was raspy, causing you to clench around nothing, but you were quick to do as told when he moved away from your body.

Leaning against the console, you noticed the red light flashing under the mirror, but you didn't get a chance to question it before Jongho was pushing down on your back. You hadn't even noticed that he pulled his pants and boxers down, his hard cock springing free.

"You ready, sweetheart?" He asked, leaning over you, right next to your ear, soaking in your small whine when he teased his tip against your soaked folds. His eyes, however, were glued to the dash-cam, pride swelling in his chest at the thought of Mingi seeing this.

"J-Jongho." You moaned out, hand reaching out to grab the passenger seat as he started to push into your tight heat. Your jaw fell slack the more he inched his way in while whispering absolute filth in your ear.

"God, you're so tight, sweetheart," Jongho groaned, fingers tightening around your hips, "are you sure that pathetic boyfriend of yours even fucked you?" He grunted, pushing his cock to the hilt in your warm walls, the full feeling making your eyes roll.

"Shit, Jongho." You whined, hips fighting against his hold as you started to grow desperate.

His hand then wrapped around your throat, pulling your head back a bit, growling in your ear, "Answer me."

"He did, but fuck not like this." You choked out, eyes fluttering closed as his breath fanned your face, "Now, Jongho, please move, god please."

Jongho chuckled at your whiny pitch and the way you were trying so desperately to move your hip to gain some kind of friction. Then he was letting go of your throat before grabbing your hips, pulling out to the tip, and thrusting back in sharply, eliciting a loud moan from your lips.

The car started to shake as he fucked into you roughly, fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave bruises. The sounds of your moans and his dirty talk filled the car, along with the sounds of skin slapping skin. All of the windows fogging over, blocking the already dim lights, the air growing stuffy with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and sex.

"Jongho." You choked out, head hanging low as tears blurred your vision, and Jongho smirked. Another choked moan fell from your lips when his fingers threaded through your hair, pulling your head back.

"Why don't you tell your loser of a boyfriend who's fucking you so good?" Jongho asked, leaning down, kissing the back of your shoulder, and you shook your head, any coherent words lost to you. His lips trailed up your neck before blowing a puff of air on your ear, watching as your body shivered, another whine falling from your lips. "Go on, baby, tell him."

"You…" You breathed out, jaw falling slack as he brushed over your sweet spot.

"Say my name," Jongho growled, pulling away from your skin to piston his hips into yours, knocking a series of moans from your kiss-swollen lips.

"Jongho." You cried out, hand moving up to grab his wrist as he tugged on your hair.

"You can do better than that, sweetheart." He chuckled, relishing in the way he was absolutely ruining you. Tugging your head back a little more, he moved back to your ear, "Say it louder."

"Jongho!" His name slipped from your lips in a borderline scream when he repositioned his hips, and he hit dead on your sweet spot.

"Louder."

"JONGHO!" You screamed his name when he bit down on your shoulder, breaking the skin, and the metallic taste of your blood hit his tongue.

The dark-haired male smirked against your skin, and his eyes flickered to the camera, sure to have your face on full display. However, he choked back a groan when you tightened like a vice around his throbbing cock.

"Close already pretty?" He asked, chuckling dryly as he released your hair to grab your hips with both hands to pound into your abused cunt. You nodded your head with a pathetic whine, knuckles turned white due to how hard you were gripping the center console and passenger seat.

"P-Plea— ngghhh, Jongho!" You cried out as he continued to brush over your sweet spot, stars dancing across your vision, the edges nearly going black.

"Cum, you pathetic baby, make a mess on my cock." He growled into your ear, and that was all you needed for that coil to snap, your high washing over you like a tidal wave. The breath was stolen from your lungs, eyes rolling, and incoherent babbles falling from your lips. Jongho wore a smug grin as he grabbed your jaw, forcing your face towards the camera. "Such a pathetic little thing aren't you? What would your boyfriend think if he saw?"

His question brought you down a bit from your high, and you bit your lip, muffling a whine before looking up at the flashing red light. You had finally realized what it was, and it made you dizzy as you thought about Jongho saving this moment. Then you also thought about how Mingi would be absolutely pissed if he saw it.

Swallowing thickly, "F-Fuck him— shit Jongho!" You let out a loud whine as he continued to plow into you, chasing his own high.

"Who's better, hmm?" He asked, clenching his jaw as he felt his high right on the tip of his tongue.

"Yo— fuck! You!" You nearly screamed again when he sat back up to fuck into your fluttering walls.

"Good fucking girl," Jongho growled, his thrusts becoming sloppy before he was painting your walls white with his seed. A whimper fell from your parted lips as the new warmth filled your womb.

The two of you lay there for a few moments as you came down from your highs. Jongho grabbed his discarded phone that was sitting on the seat behind him, turning the camera on to face where his cock was still buried in your cunt. Hitting record, he then started pulling from your soaping heat. A chuckle falls from his lips when you whine at the empty feeling, but he quickly bit his lip as he watched his cum pool out of your twitching hole.

A whine of his name spilled from your lips when he collected his leaking cum on his thumb before pushing it back into your pussy. He did that until you were trembling under his hand, tears spilling from your eyes, and his name falling out of your mouth like a mantra.

When he was satisfied, his cock was throbbing once more, and you let out a choked whine when he was pushing back into you. Your breath hitched when his phone screen came into view. Mingi's contact pulled up with two videos attached.

"Why don't you do the honors, sweetheart?" He pressed a kiss against your temple as you raised a shaky hand, finger hitting send. Jongho wore a smug grin as he pulled out of you once more, tugging your body off the center console and into his lap in the backseat.

"Jongho…" You breathed out as he helped you sink down on his cock, fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Lookie there, baby, he's already seen it." He grabbed his phone to show you the multiple messages Mingi had sent, clearly pissed, and you couldn't help the sick satisfaction that bloomed in your chest.

"G-Good." Your eyes fluttered as you rolled your hips against his, leaning down until your lips brushed his ear, "Why don't we make another one to send him?"

"Fuck you're filthy, babygirl," He chuckled, tossing his phone to the side, still opened to Mingi's messages, and grabbed your ass. Pulling your hips flushed against his, he quickly swallowed your moans with his lips, only pulling away to speak, "let's give him an encore."

© 𝐬𝐭𝐱𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 | 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚, 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠

fucks you deep in the backseat of his fancy car, gives no care in the world for the mess you both are making, just wants to pound into your pussy until you’re whining out his name. the music is still on, ac on full blast, but it does nothing to prevent his sweat dripping onto your bare chest with every deep thrust of his practiced hips. after a few rounds of lovemaking i’d imagine he’d just lay with you, pulling your back to meet his chest, playing with your hair and stroking your tummy so sweetly <33 you two would quite literally get lost in each other

✶ theo

for yangie i’d imagine you both would be at a drive inn theatre date, the movie long forgotten as you’d be more preoccupied in swapping spit in his backseat. he’s wearing that leather jacket you oh so love, hair long and groomed and simple studs adorning his ears… tl:dr—he looks fine. at first it would start innocent, theo kissing your cheek as you got lost in the plot of the film, but he’d eventually grow bored and start sucking into the nape of your neck, not missing the way you’d rub your thighs together at the contact. after an impromptu makeout session, he’d whisper some shit into your ear about finding you much more interesting than the movie, and you couldn’t help but agree, wanting to see where this would lead the two of you.

so where did you both end up? fucking like rabbits in the back of his car of course! the movie had already ended, parking lot of the outdoor theatre now completely vacant, but the two of you don’t really notice, not when theo has your legs draped over his shoulders as he slams into your puffy cunt, thumb circling against your clit so harshly you feel lightheaded. he’s grunting so fucking loud, pupils blown out with lust as he just thrusts and thrusts, despite already cumming a few times. the car is foggy with the stench of sex, cherry cola slurpees, and theo’s cologne. you’re sobbing, tears drooping down the sides of your face and puddling against your ears, hair, and of course, his car seats. it’s just soooooo gross and so animalistic but he can’t stop :(

✶ jiung

eats you out, knee deep.. in the passenger seat (thank u chappell roan). i feel like he’d be all horny at the dorms, but wouldn’t do anything about it because he knows you two aren’t alone in the space (def is uncharacteristically handsy though). it doesn’t help that he hasn’t fucked you in weeks because of how hectic group promotions have been, and that you came over to the dorms wearing the tiniest little skirt he’s ever seen. when it’s time for you to leave, he doesn’t turn the car on, doesn’t pull out of the dorm driveway before occupying your space, kissing you deep and descending down to your legs. the tight space is cramped for sure, but he doesn’t really give a fuck, not when he has you above him, panties wet and in his line of vision. presses little kisses onto your clothed pussy, loving the way you’re already pulling at his hair and mewling at such little contact.

eats you out so slowly it makes you insane, no amount of you begging him to “just fuck me already!” halting the lazy way he devours your cunt like it’s his last meal. after all, he deserves this after working so hard, so just shut up and take it :( isn’t mean enough to not fuck you though, he’s not strong enough to dismiss your begging forever. doesn’t bring you to the backseat like you’d expect, he just towers over you and fucks you right into the passenger seat. complains cutely the next day that he’s cramped and sore, but it was worth it ^_^

✶ intak

lovesssss car sex to the point where you’re already anticipating it everytime you two are on a drive alone. it just makes him feel so dirty in the best of ways, the way he can’t control himself around you, the way your pussy squeezes his dick in a vice grip with every thrust, how his cum drips out of you onto his leather seats. i also imagine intak would want to film himself fucking you in his backseat, giving you the nastiest backshots known to man as he makes eye contact with the camera, smirking at how you attempt to hide your face in embarrassment. definitely talks you through it, especially when you ask so kindly to ride him in the backseat :P praises you for taking his dick so well, for letting him fuck you somewhere where anyone could find you both.

his favorite sight though? definitely the image of your bare tits pressed against his windows when he’s pounding into your sloppy cunny. makes him feel like the man, for sure. and on the rare occasion that you’re the one asking to fuck in his car? he’s so giddy, knowing that he’s corrupted his little princess and turned her into a cockwhore :D

✶ soul

i can’t write this prompt for soul and not include the reader giving him head! you’d just be sooo appreciative and full of love for your boyfriend sho, he was so nice to you today, bought your entire saved cart on your favorite online shopping site, purposely let you win when playing smash bros with you, ordered takeout to his dorm and hand fed you :( you feel the need to thank him, to reward him for being such a sweetie pie, and what says thank you better than some sloppy toppy? he’d be sososo shy, begging you to let him park before you unbuckle his pants but you’re too desperate to make him feel good!! when he parks into your driveway he lets go of his coy attitude, fully fists your hair and pushes your head against the base of his cock to the point where you’re loudly gagging against his shaft. when you pull up for some much-needed air you’re beaming at him, giving him the widest smile and wasting no time in dropping back down to your previous position.

i can practically hear shota praising you with a satisfied “atta girl, suck this fucking cock”, cumming into your mouth, and roughly fingering you afterwards as thanks for being such a thoughtful girlfriend :O

✶ jongseob

this def isn’t for everyone but i’m so obsessed with the idea of jongseob being your dealer and boyfriend all in one. he’d drive you to some empty park late at night, would smoke a few pre-rolls with you on the abandoned swings, and get horny and lead you back to his car. the pair of you are stumbling into the backseat, dizzy and giggly, making out with urgency (and some sloppiness) and peeling off each others clothes until you’re both fully naked. ride him while he lights up another joint, it’d be sooo sexy. oh and of course he’d let you take the first puff, would gladly let you grab at his face afterwards and push the smoke into his mouth before crashing your plump lips against his. the effects of the weed has your hips slightly uncoordinated, but none of you really care. seob would smack your ass as encouragement too :3

like keeho, i think afterwards you’d both just lay there, fully bare, cuddling, kissing, and smoking in a comfortable silence. maybe even nap until seob is okay to drive you back home <3 and like i always say, i’m convinced he’d take some polaroid of you, sat on his cock, smoking a joint and staring at the camera all slutty ..

taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @dprvivi @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @dreamer1299 @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047 @sundancearchives @chuuswifereal @seisyiss @fishsquishh @sunnyyangie @asianpenguin04 @lunepoesie @haku-s0ultrain @tkooooop @taehyux

© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

ㅤㅤㅤ"It's nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today, even though it's very early in the morning," she softly speaks into the phone. "Ah," she sighs, "I'm sorry about all of this by the way. Sometimes it's just hard, and it gets worse when there's no one to talk to." 

ㅤㅤㅤ"You can call me whenever you want, even if you don't have a reason to. You know that," he assures her. She hums and glances out her window, the rising light from the incoming sun making the dewy grass shine. It causes her to smile before she sniffles and wipes a few fallen tears away. 

ㅤㅤㅤ"I'm really grateful for you, Sunghoon. Thank you for putting up with me," she chuckles pathetically. He sighs into the phone, his heart clenching at her words. 

ㅤㅤㅤ"I'll always be here for you, even on your worst days." The once sluggish man maneuvers out of bed, puts his phone on speaker, and goes to pull on a sweatshirt. "I'm coming over," he declares. 

ㅤㅤㅤ"Hoon, you should go back to sleep-," 

ㅤㅤㅤ"I'd rather fall asleep once I know you're okay. Even more so if you're in my arms," he cuts her off. She breathes out and nods, even though he can't see it, before she looks around her room. "Go unlock the door and get back in bed after, okay? I'll be there soon," he says softly. 

ㅤㅤㅤ"Can you stay on the call?" She asks hopefully. Her ears perk up at the sound of his car starting, and he hums before answering her. 

ㅤㅤㅤ"I was planning to, my love." 

ㅤㅤㅤShe bites back a smile and gets out of bed to pad to the front door, her fingers swiftly unlocking it, before she tells him, "It's unlocked." 

ㅤㅤㅤShe uses the bathroom and washes around her eyes to soothe them from her previous tears, before heading back to her bed. Sighing as her body hits the mattress, the blankets make their way around her again as she awaits his arrival. 

ㅤㅤㅤ"I'm nine minutes away." 

ㅤㅤㅤThose minutes seem to pass by rather quickly, and she's dreaming when the sound of keys hits her dresser, exhausted from the sobs that once escaped her lips. She knows his body is still clad in his pajamas as he makes his way to her. 

ㅤㅤㅤ"I'm here, princess," he speaks as he watches over her sleeping figure, and he soon joins her underneath the comforter. 

ㅤㅤㅤHe encloses her body in his embrace as he brushes her hair away from her eyes. "My sleeping beauty. Rest now, I'm here," he whispers to her, his lips twitching to mold against hers. But he settles for her forehead once her eyes flutter, and he's soon following her into a deep slumber. 

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The air smells like ramen and cigarette smoke. You’re leaned against the wall of a 7-Eleven, half-listening to Kota and Haru bicker over who should’ve driven tonight. Niki’s here too, off to the side in a black hoodie, dark baggy jeans, Chrome Hearts rings clinking quietly as he messes with his lighter. He hasn’t looked at you once. He never does anymore. Not really. Still, you always end up here. With them. You’re not in the gang, not officially, but they let you hang around. And he never tells you to leave. “You want anything?” Kota calls from the door. You shake your head, sipping from a half-warm ice tea. “I’m good.” you said.“Course she is,” Niki mutters, voice low but sharp, “Wouldn’t want her to actually pay for anything.” You blink. Your grip on the can tightens, and the other two go quiet. You glance at him. He’s still not looking at you, just stands there, calm and careless like he didn’t just humiliate you in front of your friends.

“You’re such a fucking asshole sometimes.” you whisper. He hears that, and finally looks up. “What was that?” he snaps. His eyes are cold. Hard. The kind that don’t let you lie to yourself anymore. “I said you’re an asshole.” You don’t yell it. You don’t scream. But the hurt in your voice betrays you. Niki straightens up, tossing the lighter into his pocket. “Then why the fuck are you still here? You think you matter? You’re just a dumb girl who can’t take a joke. No one asked you to hang around.” The words land heavy. Cruel. You weren’t expecting them to hit that deep. You feel your throat tighten, breath catching before you can stop it. The burn behind your eyes shows up before you can blink it away. You turn and walk. And this time, you cry before you even get around the corner.

The second you’re gone, the silence feels heavier. Even the usual buzz of Tokyo traffic sounds muted in the air between them. Kota kicks at the pavement. Haru lights another cigarette. Nobody says anything for a moment. Niki stays where he is—still, jaw clenched, gaze fixed on the spot where you disappeared. He’s good at acting like nothing touches him. But tonight, he doesn’t move fast enough. “…Bro,” Haru says eventually, “You seriously went too far.” Niki scoffs, trying to brush it off. “She’s too fucking sensitive.” he says. “She cried, man.” He snaps, “She always cries” sharper than before. “That’s her thing. She plays sweet and innocent and everyone’s supposed to feel bad for her.” Kota cuts in, “You think she plays that shit?”, stepping forward now. “She’s been around for years, Niki. She’s seen us come home half-dead and still stuck around. You think that’s for fun?” Niki doesn’t answer.

His hands are shoved deep into his hoodie pockets now, rings cold against his knuckles. His jaw is locked tight, lips pressed into a hard line. But he doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t say you’re just another girl. Because you aren’t. You never fucking were. He remembers the way your voice cracked. Remembers the way you didn’t yell—just… broke. Quiet and honest. It felt different this time. It felt real. And now you’re out there, alone. Not in their part of town. Dangerous streets. Drunk men. Rival crews. People who don’t ask questions before they hurt. “…Shit.” He pushes off the wall, already walking. “Where you going?” Kota calls after him. He doesn’t answer, just pulls his hood up and disappears into the night.

You didn’t go far. He finds you a few blocks down, sitting on a low concrete barrier near an old vending machine. The neon glow hums beside you, too bright for how you feel. Your head’s down, arms wrapped tight around yourself, your drink still in your hand, barely touched. You don’t hear him right away. But he’s there, a few feet away, watching. “You done sulking?” he says, voice low. You flinch. You don’t look up. Typical. Cold. Detached. Like nothing he said back there meant shit. Like you didn’t cry over him—for him. He exhales through his nose, then shifts his weight like he’s uncomfortable standing still. “Didn’t mean to piss you off that bad.” It’s not an apology, not really, but for Niki—it’s something. It’s more than you’ve ever gotten before. You stay quiet, lips pressed together, eyes locked on the pavement. “…Come on,” he mutters.

“I’ll drive you home.” You finally glance up. He’s not looking at you. Just standing there in his hoodie, earrings catching the light as he fidgets with his lighter again. “Why do you care?” you ask, voice hoarse from holding back tears. That makes him freeze. His jaw clenches, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything, then, quietly, “Don’t.” Just that. Just one word. Like if he says more, he’ll give himself away.“…Get on the bike before someone else finds you out here.” You stare at him for another second. You could say no. You should say no. But you don’t. And the way his voice sounded, just a little softer, a little unsure, it makes your chest twist. You stand up and walk past him without a word. He falls into step behind you.

The ride is silent. You sit behind him on the bike, arms wrapped around his waist, the heat of his body cutting through the wind that rushes past. Tokyo blurs around you, neon lights, empty streets, the occasional honk of a taxi, but you don’t say anything. Neither does he. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay. You don’t ask why he came after you. You just hold on, and he lets you. When he pulls up outside your building, he kills the engine but doesn’t move right away. His hands stay on the handlebars, head tilted down like he’s thinking, like he wants to say something. But whatever it is, he swallows it. You swing your leg off the bike, your feet hitting the pavement softly. “Thanks,” you murmur, voice low. He nods once, almost like a reflex. Then he’s gone—engine growling back to life, black hoodie catching the wind as he disappears down the street without another word. You watch him until the sound fades. Then you turn and head inside.

The three of them are outside the konbini again—same corner, same neon lights humming in the humid Tokyo air. You spot them as you round the corner, your phone clutched in one hand, your other hand adjusting the soft curls falling over your shoulders. Your dress clings to your frame just right—pretty, delicate, way too innocent for this part of town. Kota looks up first and lets out a low whistle. “Damn. You look good tonight.” Haru grins beside him, nudging your arm as you approach. “You gonna break hearts tonight?” You smile shyly. “Shut up.” They laugh, but Niki—leaned against the wall in his usual black hoodie and silver jewellery—lifts his head slowly. Eyes narrowing just slightly. “For what?” You pause. Kota throws him a look. “Bro. She’s got a date tonight. You didn’t know?”

Niki’s gaze flickers to you again, this time longer, sharper. You can’t read him. “Tch. Hope he likes fake bitches.” The words hit harder than they should. You blink. Your smile fades. Kota stiffens. “The fuck, man? She looks good. Say something nice for once.” But Niki doesn’t say anything else. Just flicks open his lighter, jaw tight, like he’d rather set the whole street on fire than admit he cares. You try not to let it show. Try not to look at him again. “I’ll see you guys later,” you mumble. They both nod. “Text us when you get home safe, yeah?” You nod back, and walk off. You don’t see the way Niki watches you disappear down the street. But the boys do.

You’re five minutes early when you get to the meeting spot—an empty side street near the arcade, lit only by a single flickering streetlight. The guy said to meet him here, but it already feels wrong. And then, before you can react, you’re shoved hard against the wall. “Took you long enough,” a voice sneers in your ear. You turn, heart leaping into your throat. It’s him. But he’s not alone. Four others step out from behind the dumpster and across the street, all wearing the same jacket patch—the symbol of a rival gang you’ve heard Haru mention before. They don’t look friendly. “She’s pretty,” one of them laughs. “Too pretty to be that dumb.” “You thought he actually wanted to date you?” Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

One of them grabs your chin roughly, tilting your face up. “Pathetic. You think hanging around them makes you untouchable?” You flinch. And then a hand strikes your face—sharp, loud, your head snapping to the side. Tears blur your vision immediately. You choke on a breath. “A little crybaby, huh? Bet you act all high and mighty around them, but one slap and you’re falling apart.” You shake your head, trembling. “Please, I—” Another one grabs your wrist. They’re surrounding you now. You’re not strong enough. You’re not fast enough. But then, someone yells. “Get your fucking hands off her.” The voice hits like a bullet. You barely turn your head before everything explodes. Niki’s fist connects with the closest guy’s jaw so fast you don’t even see it wind up. The guy drops, knocked cold before he hits the ground. Kota’s already grabbed the one holding your wrist and slams him into the brick wall. Haru drives his knee into someone’s ribs, the crack audible. Niki’s on fire—pure rage, silent and deadly. He doesn’t speak again. He doesn’t need to. Every hit is precise, brutal, merciless. He moves like he’s been waiting for an excuse to do this. Like hurting you was the one thing they never should’ve done. In less than a minute, all five are down. Breathing, but barely.

Your back is still to the wall, your legs too shaky to move. Your eyes sting from crying, your cheek throbs from the slap, and your hands tremble even as you try to hide it.Niki turns on you. “What the fuck were you thinking?” You flinch. He steps closer, shoulders tense, breathing hard, voice sharp. “You went on a date with him? With that guy? He’s our enemy, are you fucking stupid?” he yells. “Niki—” Kota starts, but Niki cuts him off. “You could’ve gotten kidnapped. Or worse. And for what? You wanted to play dress-up and feel special?”Your throat tightens. You shake your head. “I didn’t know—” He grabs your arm. “You never know,” he spits. “You just do whatever you want and expect us to clean it up after. You always cause trouble—” “Niki!” Haru snaps. “Stop.” But he doesn’t. His grip tightens on your arm, fingers digging into your skin, he doesn’t even realize how hard he’s holding you.

“You think this is a fucking game? You could’ve died tonight—” “Let go,” you say, voice cracking. He doesn’t. “Niki, you’re hurting me.” That stops him.His eyes widen slightly, his grip loosens instantly—but not before you both notice the way your skin’s already turning red under his fingers. A bruise, forming fast. He pulls his hand back like it burned him. Stares at it. Then at you. And for the first time tonight, he looks shaken. “Shit.” He steps back, jaw clenched, turning away like he can’t look at you anymore. Kota steps between you, checking your arm gently, his voice low. “You alright?”You nod, even though you’re not. Haru glares at Niki. “What the hell is wrong with you?” But Niki doesn’t answer. He just stands there, fists balled at his sides, breathing hard, like he wants to scream or punch a wall or run. And you don’t know what hurts more, the bruise on your arm or the one he left in your chest.

You don’t show up for three days. No konbini hangouts. No rooftop meetups. No texts. Not even the occasional check-in that used to be your excuse to be near Niki. You needed space. After that night—his grip bruising your arm, the way he yelled at you like it was your fault—you just couldn’t be near him, not yet. Not until the sting faded from your chest. You ignore the texts from Kota.

yo you good? haven’t seen you in a while.

u mad at us or just him lol.

You answer the next day.

i’m ok just busy

It’s a lie. But it’s better that way.

Meanwhile, he notices. Niki doesn’t say anything to the others. But the second day you’re gone, he’s not himself. More silent than usual, more pissed off in fights, more reckless with his hits, like he’s looking to get hurt on purpose. He asks once, when Kota lights a cig, “She stop coming around or something?” Kota shrugs. “Guess she’s just laying low.” Niki doesn’t respond. But that night, when he gets home with blood dried on his knuckles, he scrolls through his contacts with his jaw clenched. He doesn’t message you. Just looks at your name and locks his phone. A few days later, you run into Haru. You see him outside a small café, squatting on the curb and sipping on a can of pepsi. His eyes widen when he sees you walking past. “Yo. Look who decided to come out.” You laugh quietly. “I’m not hiding.” “You kinda are.” You sit beside him on the curb. The street’s calm here—no tension, no fights, no Niki. Haru eyes you sideways. “He’s been acting weird, y’know.”You glance down at your hands. “He’s always weird.” you say. “Nah. Not like that.” He shifts, lowers his voice. “He’s been picking fights like crazy.” Your chest tightens. You want to say it’s not your fault, but part of you knows it is. “…I needed space,” you murmur. Haru doesn’t push. Just nods and finishes his pepsi. “You still part of this, though, right?” You pause. Then nod once. “Yeah.” That night, your phone buzzes. A text from Niki. “u done being dramatic or what” You stare at the message for a long time, but you don’t answer. You go to sleep instead.

It’s Haru who convinces you. He texts you that afternoon, casual but insistent.

come out tonight. we’ll be at the rooftop.

niki probably won’t even be there, tbh.

You know it’s a lie, but you show up anyway. It’s not because of Niki. It’s because Haru and Kota still feel like home. The rooftop is quiet when you get there—soft wind, the smell of sea air drifting in from the water. The boys are already lounging on the cracked concrete, passing around a half-empty bottle of beer and laughing about something stupid. You climb over the railing and land softly, brushing your skirt down. Kota sees you first. “Ayy, look who showed.”“Bout time,” Haru adds, already scooting over to make room. You smile a little, “Miss me that much?” you say. “Nah,” Haru grins. “We just needed someone to bring snacks.” You drop a small bag of chips and drinks in front of them. The boys cheer, and then you hear it. Footsteps behind you. Your heart sinks. You don’t even have to turn around, you already know. Niki’s here. He walks past you without a word, dropping down beside Kota like it’s nothing. Designer jeans, Chrome Hearts rings gleaming on his fingers as he lights a cigarette, eyes half-lidded, expression unreadable. He doesn’t look at you. You don’t look at him. But the tension wraps around your neck like a wire.

You sit a little farther away than usual. Not close enough to be part of the group, not far enough to be unseen. Haru keeps talking, telling a story about some dumb fight Niki and Kota got into the other night—something about a baseball bat and a broken vending machine. You nod along, laugh when you’re supposed to, but your body is tight. You can feel Niki’s presence like heat on your skin. Every shift of his leg, every flick of his lighter. He still hasn’t said a word. Eventually, Kota offers you a drink. You shake your head. “I should head out soon.” Kota frowns. “You just got here.” he says. “I’ve got stuff to do.” You rise to your feet, brushing invisible dust off your skirt. That’s when Niki finally speaks. His voice is low, sharp. “You really gonna act like I’m the only one who fucked up?” Your breath catches, the rooftop falls silent. Haru mutters under his breath, “Bro…” You turn slowly to face him. He’s leaning back against the wall, cigarette between his lips, one brow raised like he’s waiting, daring you to say something. You step closer, just enough for him to see your face clearly. “I never laid hands on you.” He freezes. The cigarette burns down between his fingers. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything. Kota and Haru exchange a glance, quiet and awkward. You shake your head, heart pounding, and step back toward the railing. “Don’t worry, Niki. I won’t cause you any more trouble.” You climb down from the rooftop without another word. That night, he doesn’t text you, but he doesn’t sleep either.

It starts raining right as you turn the corner toward the train station. It’s a cold, heavy rain that soaks straight through your clothes in seconds. You don’t have an umbrella, you didn’t check the forecast. And now, water clings to your lashes, your shoes are slipping on the pavement, and your bag is starting to leak through. You keep walking anyway. You’ve already been avoiding Niki for days, and this walk home—this soaking, miserable walk—is still better than being close to him right now. But of course. The low purr of an engine hums from behind you. You don’t turn around, you don’t have to. You know that sound by now—his stupid expensive motorcycle cutting through the street like it owns the night. The engine slows and he matches your pace, trailing you. Still, you don’t look at him. You grip your bag tighter, fingers trembling, rain dripping off your chin. “Get on.” His voice is calm, but the growl in it is unmistakable. You bite the inside of your cheek and keep walking.

He lets out a small breath—like he’s tired of you already. “I said get on.” he repeats, a little louder. You turn finally, arms crossed, soaked to the skin. “I’m fine.” He glances at your wet hair, your shivering shoulders, the way your lips are already starting to turn pale. “You’re not,” he mutters. “I don’t need your help.” He kicks his foot down on the kickstand and climbs off the bike, standing in front of it now. Water drips off his Denim Tears hoodie, silver jewelry gleaming like it’s untouched by the storm. He takes off the hoodie without a word and holds it out to you. A plain white t-shirt underneath. You don’t move. You just stare at it. He doesn’t drop his arm, still waiting, still offering it—stupidly, stubbornly—like this one act of kindness could erase all the times he made you cry. “You’re gonna get sick,” he mumbles. You don’t answer, but your fingers twitch, and finally, you reach out and take the hoodie. It’s warm, soft on the inside. Smells like something expensive and a little like smoke. And him. He gets back on the bike without saying anything else.

The rain’s still pouring as you climb on behind him. It takes you a second, like your body forgot what it feels like to be this close to him again. You hesitate, then rest your hands lightly on his sides, just enough to stay on. The moment your fingers touch him, you feel it. The tension. He doesn’t speak until the bike starts moving. The ride is short, but it feels so long. You feel his body in front of you—solid, warm even in the cold, rain sliding off his helmet and hitting your cheeks. The wind presses your chest against his back, but your hands never move from his sides. You wish you weren’t so aware of him. But you are. You always are. When he finally stops near your building, he doesn’t get off the bike right away. He sits there for a second, hands tightening on the handles. You sit there too, silent, heart pounding. Then, so quiet you almost miss it, “Why do you always look at me like that…even after everything?” Your breath catches. You blink, raindrops slipping into your lashes. “…What?” He still doesn’t look at you, just stares straight ahead.

“Like I’m not the one who hurt you.” His voice is low, tired. Not mean, just real. Maybe more real than you’ve ever heard it. “Like I’m not the reason you cried last week. Like I didn’t leave bruises on your arm. Like I didn’t scare the hell out of you.” You open your mouth, but no words come out. He finally turns his head and looks at you over his shoulder. “Why do you still look at me like you love me?” That breaks you. Your throat tightens, your lips tremble, and you hate him—you hate him for saying it, for noticing, for pretending like he’s the victim in all this. You don’t answer. Instead, you slide off the bike. You take off his hoodie and toss it into his lap without looking at him. “Thanks for the ride.” you murmur. He watches you go, doesn’t stop you. He just sits there in the rain, dripping wet, clutching his hoodie like it’s the only proof you were ever there.

You didn’t know about the fight. They made sure of that—Haru, Kota, even Niki. Nobody said a word. You would’ve begged them not to go. You would’ve shown up and gotten hurt. And that was the last thing they wanted. But war doesn’t wait for anyone. It happens fast—midnight, in the middle of an abandoned lot on the edge of Tokyo. Concrete and metal. Shadows and fists. One hundred against one hundred. No rules. No mercy. No room to breathe. The rival gang brought brass knuckles, knives, steel rods. But Niki—he had something personal. He finds him in the chaos, the one who laid hands on you. And everything in him snaps. “You think you can touch her?”Niki grabs him by the collar, slamming him into the ground so hard his head bounces off the dirt. “You think you can fucking touch her and walk away?” The guy spits blood, tries to crawl back, but Niki shoves him down with his foot to the chest.

“If you even look at her again, I’ll cut your fucking dick off and feed it to you.” He’s seething. Blind. And that’s when it happens. Behind him, another guy, face half-covered, something glinting in his hand. Haru sees it. Too far. Kota turns. Too late. The blade sinks deep under Niki’s ribs. His breath punches out of him. He stumbles back, hands instantly red, drops to his knees, then the ground. “Niki!” Haru and Kota tear through the swarm, fists flying, feet kicking, rage spilling out of their throats. They get to him, one on each side, grabbing his arms and pulling him away. “Fuck—fuck—fuck, stay awake, bro—” Haru’s voice is shaking as he drags him behind a crumbling wall. Kota presses both hands hard on the bleeding wound. “Call an ambulance.” Haru says.“No.” Niki’s voice is weak. “No cops. No hospital.” Kota hesitates. Then, he calls you. You almost don’t pick up since It’s late and you’re still pissed from earlier. But when you see Kota’s name flash on your screen, something clenches in your stomach. “Hello?” His voice is strained. “Don’t panic. Just listen. There was a fight. A big one. Niki—he got stabbed.” The words barely register.“What?” you say. “It’s bad,” he responds. “He’s alive, but—fuck, I didn’t know who else to call.” The phone drops from your hand.

Your legs move before your brain catches up. You’re out the door, running as fast as you can. You find them behind a rusted shipping container on the edge of the lot. The fight still rages somewhere nearby—screams, grunts, fists on flesh. But all you see is him. Niki. On the ground. Pale, breathing shallow, blood soaking the hem of his shirt, pooling in his hands. “Oh my god—Niki—” You drop to your knees beside him, already tugging open your bag for the bandages you brought on instinct. Your fingers are shaking too much to tear open the antiseptic. “You shouldn’t be here.” he rasps. You ignore him. You press a cloth to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but your hands are slippery. You’re crying so hard you can’t see straight. “I thought—I thought I was gonna lose you.” you choke. Kota puts a hand on your shoulder. “We’ll go. You stay with him. If he gets worse—”“He won’t.” Your voice cracks, but you say it again, louder. “He won’t. Go. Fight. Win. Just—go.” They nod and disappear into the smoke and screams. And then it’s just you and Niki, and your hands on his chest, and the weight of every second you never told him how much he meant to you. You clean the wound. You press a bandage to his skin.“You stupid asshole,” you whisper. “You always do this. You always make me care too much.” He tries to speak, but stop him.“Don’t say anything. Just stay awake. Please.”

The blood won’t stop. Not completely. You’ve pressed down with everything—cloth, bandage, your shaking hands—but it still seeps through in slow, angry pulses. And Niki’s skin is cold now. Too cold. “Stay awake,” you whisper again, voice cracked and hoarse. “Please—please, don’t do this to me.” You’re bent over him, forehead nearly touching his chest, your hands clenched into his bloodstained shirt like you can hold his soul in place if you just try hard enough. And then he coughs. His body jerks. Your entire chest caves in. “No—no, no—Niki—please—!” You burst into tears. No more holding back. No more trying to be strong. You’re sobbing, fists pounding weakly against him. “Why would you do this?! Why would you go without telling me?! I can’t—I can’t lose you—!” Your voice breaks into silence, shoulders trembling. And then, his hand moves. Calloused fingers rise slowly, wobbling, clumsy, and cup your cheek. Blood smears across your skin. Your breath catches. “Niki…?” His eyes flutter open, barely. He stares at you like he’s never seen you before. Like he can’t believe you’re real. Then—suddenly, without warning—he grips the back of your head and pulls you down. And crashes his mouth onto yours. It’s messy. Desperate. His lips are cracked. There’s blood at the corner of his mouth. But none of it matters because he’s kissing you. He’s fucking kissing you like he’s about to die and needs one last taste of heaven.

You freeze, just for a moment. Then your hands fly to his jaw, holding him, grounding him, pressing back just as hard. You pour everything into the kiss—your love, your anger, your terror. Your tears slide down your cheeks and onto his face, mixing with his own. When he finally pulls away, he leans his forehead against yours. “Why do you always look at me like that…even after everything?” The same question again. His voice is barely a whisper. He sounds wrecked, broken, vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen before. “Because I’m in love with you,” you breathe, your voice trembling. “I’ve always been in love with you.” He closes his eyes. His chest rises, shaky. “Fuck.” He sounds like he’s in pain, but not from the wound. “You’re gonna be okay,” you say quickly, brushing the hair out of his face. “I’m gonna take care of you. Just stay with me, okay? Stay awake.” But he’s already slipping. His grip on your neck loosens. “Niki—hey—don’t you dare—” You shake him gently, panic flooding your veins again. And he opens his eyes one last time. “If I die, I want it to be after kissing you.” Your heart cracks in two.

Haru arrives breathless, skidding to your side with scraped knuckles and blood on his nose. “We have to move him.” he says urgently, glancing at Niki’s still-bleeding side. You nod, wiping your face quickly. Together, you carry him—arms locked under his shoulders and legs, trying not to jostle the wound too much. He groans once in his unconscious haze, but doesn’t wake. Every sound he makes tears through you. You get him into his apartment—dark, silent, untouched. Haru lays him down on the bed, and helps you wrap new bandages around Niki’s waist. “I have to go back,” he mutters, already heading for the door. “We’re not done yet. You—stay with him, alright?” You nod wordlessly, and the door closes behind him. Silence. You’re left in the dim bedroom, lit only by the streetlight bleeding in through the blinds. You sit down on the floor beside the bed, too numb to move. Your arms rest on the edge of the mattress, your forehead pressed against the comforter. The smell of blood clings to everything, your throat burns from crying. You don’t even know how long you sit like that—sniffling, occasionally hiccuping from how hard you sobbed earlier. Could be an hour now. Just listening to the faint sound of Niki breathing. Then—“…Y/n?”His voice is hoarse, soft, barely audible.

Your heart lurches. “Niki—” you gasp, sitting up instantly. His hand shoots out, seizing your wrist with surprising strength. You freeze, staring at him. He’s pale. Sweat clings to his skin. But his eyes are locked on you like he’s terrified you’ll disappear. And before you can say a word, he pulls you forward—hard—and you stumble, falling onto the mattress. Right on top of him. Your hands land on either side of his shoulders, and you’re suddenly straddling his lap, eyes wide. “Niki—I’m gonna hurt you—what are you doing—?” But he doesn’t answer. Instead, he sits up just enough to crush his mouth against yours again. This kiss is messier. More desperate. There’s no caution, no pause. His hands curl around your back, dragging you down onto his chest like he needs you closer.

He kisses you like he’s been starving for you his entire life. When he finally pulls away, his forehead stays pressed against yours. “I thought I was gonna die tonight.” You shake your head, eyes shining again. “Don’t say that—”But he cuts you off. “And all I could think about was you.” Your breath catches. His hand cups your cheek. His thumb brushes a tear away. “The way you looked at me back there—like I was worth something. Like you loved me even when I didn’t deserve it.” His gaze burns into yours. You don’t answer right away. You just hold his face in your hands, brushing his hair back as if touching him will somehow ground you both. “I can’t lose you,” you whisper. “You won’t,” he murmurs. “Not ever. I’m yours.” His lips ghost over your jaw, your cheek, your mouth again. His voice is low. Possessive. But it’s not cruel like the other times. Not careless. It’s the voice of a boy who’s loved you in silence for too long. A boy who almost died without ever telling you.

He kisses you hard—like he’s trying to claim every breath you have left. His hand slides up, fingers curling lightly around your throat, just enough for you to feel him. To know he’s there, even after everything. Your breath catches. His lips part from yours, just barely. And then he says it. “I love you.” Your eyes go wide. You don’t move, don’t speak. You just stare at him, stunned, as your heart slams against your ribs. You’d imagined him saying those words before—maybe, in some perfect version of the future where things weren’t so bloody, so dangerous. Where you weren’t crying in his bed with his blood on your shirt. But never like this. Never with his hand around your throat. Never when you could still feel the echo of his near-death between you. Your lip quivers and your eyes flood with tears again. He watches them fall with a slight smile. “Why are you crying, baby?” he whispers, voice rough. You shake your head, unable to speak. “You didn’t know?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss beneath your eye. “You’ve had me wrapped around your finger since high school.”

He kisses you again, harder this time. Less hesitation. More hunger. His hands slide down your body—fingers gripping your waist, then curving lower until they’re full on your ass, squeezing hard. You gasp against his mouth, and he groans, like he’s been waiting years just to hear that sound. “You’ve always looked at me like I mattered,” he mutters against your lips. “Even when I treated you like shit. Even when I pushed you away.” Another kiss—open-mouthed, searing. “You never stopped looking at me like that.” You barely manage to whisper, breathless, “Because I love you Niki…So much.” That breaks him. He groans low in his throat and kisses you with everything—years of repressed desire, years of silent love, the terror of almost losing you tonight. His hands grip your hips like he’s grounding himself. You feel his body under you—still trembling slightly, still recovering—but it doesn’t stop him from pulling you flush against him, deepening the kiss again and again until it feels like you’re sinking into him.

He sits up more in bed, wincing slightly from the wound, but he doesn’t stop. Not for a second. You’re still straddling him, your thighs clamped around his hips, your hands tangled in his hair as he drags you closer, chest to chest, lips crashing against yours again and again. You try to pull back, panting. “Niki—your wound, I’m gonna hurt you like this—” you whisper. “I don’t fucking care.” he growls, voice wrecked, hand sliding back to your throat as he kisses you like he’s starving. Your gasp gets swallowed in his mouth. He pulls you down harder onto his lap, his grip on your hips tightening as he grinds you slowly against his crotch. You can already feel him—half-hard and growing harder by the second beneath the thin fabric of his sweats. The slow drag of your body on his has him groaning into your mouth, hips twitching upward to meet your movement. His lips break from yours only to trail down to your jaw, then your neck—hot, open-mouthed kisses, wet and messy. He sucks a mark just under your ear, then another lower, his breath shaky and fast.

“Always wanted to do this…” he mutters, biting down lightly on your collarbone. You shiver. His fingers dig into your skin. His mouth reaches the bruise on your arm—the one he gave you earlier when he lost control. He slows down. His lips press gently against the purple bloom on your skin, a soft, almost reverent kiss. You look down at him, startled by the shift, by the sudden tenderness in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs against your arm. “For this. For everything.” But before you can answer, his hands move again—back to your hips, dragging you against him with more pressure now. His cock is fully hard beneath you, straining up into your heat through your thin panties and his sweats, and the friction is dizzying. “You feel what you do to me?” he rasps, voice low and filthy, breath hot on your skin. “You’ve been driving me crazy for years.”

He’s rocking your hips on his lap, forcing you to feel every inch of him beneath you—how hard he is, how desperate. “Say you want this,” he whispers against your throat. “Say you want me.” And all you can do is nod, dizzy with how good it feels, how real this is. “I want you, Niki,” you breathe. Then—his lips ghost over your ear, voice deep and raspy. “Good girl,” he whispers. You let out the softest, shuddering whimper. Your panties instantly getting wetter. Your whole body reacts—your spine arching slightly, your thighs squeezing tighter around his hips. He must feel it, how much that did to you, because he slips his hands beneath your shirt. You gasp as his fingers brush over the bare skin of your stomach, rough fingertips dragging slowly up your soft sides. He explores you with a kind of reverence, thumbs rubbing slow circles into your skin, feeling every inch like he’s memorizing it.

His lips never stop, kissing, biting, breathing you in like he’s addicted. And then, you guide him. You take his wrists gently, and with trembling fingers, you lift his hands and press them to your chest, right over your tits. You swear he stops breathing for a second. “Fuck…” he whispers, voice wrecked. His palms cover you completely, thumbs brushing over your nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt. He squeezes lightly, groaning into your mouth when you whimper at the contact. Your body jolts forward, grinding down again, right over the thick bulge straining in his sweats. The pressure on your clit makes your head drop back, eyes fluttering shut. “You have no idea,” he pants, “how long I’ve wanted you like this.” Then his mouth is on yours again—hot, messy, and deep—while his hands slide under your shirt fully, thumbs circling your nipples now, teasing you. “Take this off.” he commands, tugging at the hem of your shirt, already desperate to see more of you.

You lift your shirt over your head with shaky hands, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling with every breath. The second your bare skin is exposed, Niki’s eyes darken. He doesn’t even give you time to think. His hands fly to your waist, holding you still on his lap as he leans in—mouth latching onto your nipple like he’s starved. “Niki—” you gasp, your head tipping back. His tongue swirls around your sensitive peak, sucking hard, his teeth scraping just enough to make your hips jolt in his lap. You grind down by instinct, moaning when his dick presses right into your clit again. He groans against your skin. “So fucking soft…” he breathes, hot and low, his voice muffled as he kisses down the curve of your breast. Then his mouth moves to the other—sucking even harder, switching between gentle licks and rough sucks that make you writhe in his grip. He starts leaving hickies everywhere—on the undersides of your tits, in the dip between them, over the swell of them and down to your ribs.

Each kiss is messier than the last, wet and open-mouthed, his tongue dragging along your skin as he claims you over and over.“Mine…” he mutters darkly, almost to himself, between kisses. “Mine.” His hands squeeze your ass, pushing you harder against his cock as he sucks another mark right above your nipple. You cry out softly, your body already feeling too hot, too sensitive. Your fingers tremble as they reach for the hem of his shirt, tugging gently. Niki pulls back just enough to glance down at your hands, then up at your face—your lip caught between your teeth, eyes wide with something between desperation and awe. Without saying a word, he leans back slightly and yanks the shirt over his head with one swift pull. Your breath catches. His chest rises and falls steadily, faint scars slashing across his muscles—some old and faded, some fresher, still healing. His abs are hard and flexed beneath his shallow breaths, and thin lines mark his skin. And you just want to worship every inch of it.

Your hands move slowly, palms ghosting over the rigid lines of his abdomen, scared to hurt him but unable to stop yourself. His stomach twitches under your touch. His eyes never leave you. Then, barely breathing, you lean in, pressing one innocent kiss to the side of his neck, lips soft and sweet against skin still tasting faintly of blood and sweat. He exhales hard through his nose. You pull back just slightly, breath catching in your throat, lips swollen from his kisses and heart thudding hard in your chest. Your eyes lift to meet his—soft, doe-eyed, and full of adoration. That look makes something snap in him. His hand shoots up to grip your jaw firmly, tilting your face toward his. “You’re so fucking cute.” he growls, voice low as his eyes drink you in like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Then he kisses you again, rough and desperate, tongue sliding past your lips as he drags you back onto him like he can’t get enough. His hands drop to your hips, gripping them tightly before slipping lower, fingers sliding beneath the hem of your little skirt.

He palms your ass through your panties, groaning into your mouth when he feels how soft you are under his touch. “Fuck.” he mutters against your lips. “Wearing this tiny skirt around me all the time…you don’t even know what that does to me.” You whimper, hands clutching at his shoulders as he tugs at your panties, snapping the waistband slightly against your skin. And then he moves. One hand snakes around to the front, fingers slipping between your thighs until they press against your clothed clit—slow, teasing pressure that makes your breath hitch. “You’re already wet,” he smirks against your ear. “So fucking needy for me…” You try to hide your face in his neck, embarrassed, but he doesn’t let you. His hand grabs your jaw, holding you in place, forcing you to look at him while he toys with you. “Look at me.” he says, voice harder now. “Don’t go all shy now, baby. You’re the one grinding on my dick like that.” His fingers rub small, slow circles through the damp fabric, watching your expression with dark, hungry eyes.

You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face against the side of his head as you tremble slightly, overwhelmed by the feel of his fingers teasing your clit and the heavy weight of his eyes on you.“Need you…please.” you whisper. So soft, so broken, like you’ll fall apart if he doesn’t touch you properly. And it breaks him. A sharp breath leaves his chest. His hand tightens on your hip like he’s trying not to lose control. “Fuck…” Without another word, he shoves your panties aside, his fingers slipping between your folds to finally feel just how soaked you are. “You’re dripping.” he mutters, almost like he can’t believe it. His fingers glide through your slick slowly, spreading it, feeling every little tremble of your body against him. “All this for me?” Your only answer is a needy whimper, your hips bucking forward instinctively, grinding against his fingers. “You want me to fuck you this bad?” he groans, mouth right next to your ear. “You’re this fucking wet just from kissing me?”

He cups your pussy fully, rubbing his fingers through your folds, teasing your entrance but not giving you what you need just yet. He’s savoring it—how soft and sweet and desperate you are for him. “Say it again.”You gasp softly, barely able to breathe as you clutch onto him. “Please…Niki, need you…” And suddenly his fingers sink into you. Two long fingers push past your soaked entrance and fill you up slowly, the stretch making you gasp out his name, clinging tighter to his neck. He curses again, watching your face the entire time, loving how you fall apart so easily for him. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Good fucking girl. Taking me so well already…” His free hand stays on your waist, keeping you still as he fucks his fingers into you, slow and deep, curling them to find every sensitive spot inside you.

You kiss him again desperately, lips parted, soft little whimpers spilling into his mouth as your hips begin rocking on their own, grinding down on his fingers. He groans into the kiss, one hand tightening in your hair while the other stays buried inside you, letting you use him however you need. “That’s it,” he mutters between kisses. “Ride my fingers, baby. Just like that.” Your hips move on instinct—slow, needy rolls against his hand, chasing the friction as the heel of his palm rubs perfectly against your clit with every motion. He watches you with that dark, hungry look in his eyes, his chest rising and falling under you as he leans back slightly to take it all in. “You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he murmurs, voice low and strained, “Making a mess on my hand…fuck.” Your whimpers grow louder as you keep grinding on his fingers, your lips brushing against his, breath shaky, thighs trembling. “Niki… I— I can’t…” You’re close, and he knows it. He can feel it in the way your walls clench, the way your body shakes in his lap, how you moan his name so helplessly. He leans in again, voice sharp and possessive against your ear. “Don’t hold back.” And then his thumb presses harder against your clit, just the way you need it, as his fingers curl inside you deep and slow. “Cum for me, angel.”

Your body jerks, head falling against his shoulder as the orgasm rips through you, hot and dizzying. Your pussy clenches around his fingers as you cry out softly into his neck. He holds you through it, his lips brushing your cheek and ear. “That’s it… that’s my good girl… fuck, you’re so sweet when you cum.” Your breaths come out ragged as you slump against him, your thighs shaking, heart pounding against your ribs. But then, slowly, he pulls his fingers out of you, slick and glistening, and brings them up to your lips. “Open.” You obey without thinking, wrapping your lips around his fingers and sucking them clean, soft moans escaping your throat as your tongue swirls around the taste of yourself. His eyes darken watching you. “My dirty girl.” He kisses you again, messy and wet, the taste of your arousal on both your tongues. As he deepens it, your hips roll again—unconsciously grinding your bare, oversensitive cunt against the hard bulge in his sweats. You whimper into his mouth at the friction, overwhelmed but needing more.

Your fingers trail down, hesitant but aching for him, until your hand finally lands on his bulge. You palm him softly, feeling the heavy weight of him under your hand, and he groans—low and guttural, hips jerking up into your touch. “Fuck, baby.” He pulls back from the kiss to look at you, chest heaving, his hand still resting on your waist, thumb brushing your skin. You look up at him with wide, tear-glossed eyes, lips swollen, still panting. He leans in closer, mouth grazing just beneath your ear, voice low but gentle. “You want my dick, pretty girl? Hm?” Your breath catches and you nod quickly, eager, needy, eyes wide and full of want. He hums, clearly pleased, and presses a warm kiss to your cheek before whispering, “Good.” Then you feel his hands move between you, slowly tugging the waistband of his sweats and boxers down his hips. Your eyes trail lower instinctively and your breath catches again when his cock finally springs free—big, thick, flushed pink at the tip, so heavy it rests against his lower stomach for a second before falling against his thigh. You can’t help it, your lips part a little in awe. He’s so pretty it almost makes your head spin.

Your hands slipped down to your hips, and with a soft breath, you slid your panties down your thighs and tossed them aside. One of his hands stayed firm on your hip, grounding you. The other wrapped around himself, and he rubbed his tip along your folds, slow and teasing. You whimpered, already so sensitive, your thighs twitching from the contact. “Niki!” you whispered, clinging to his shoulders, your voice trembling. He smirked softly and locked eyes with you as he lined himself up. “Breathe, baby.” he said, voice low. And then he slowly pushed in. You gasped, burying your face in his neck as he stretched you open inch by inch. His grip on your waist tightened protectively, fingers digging into your skin. Your breath hitched with every inch, your thighs shaking around him, but he didn’t rush. Just deep, slow, patient movements, wanting you to feel everything.

When he bottomed out, he let out a soft groan, forehead resting against yours. You were so full, so warm around him, it made his head spin. He stayed there for a second, just breathing, letting you adjust. “You okay?” he asked, quieter now, his thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. His tone was raw, barely hiding the emotion underneath. You nodded, shaky. “Y-Yeah. I just…I really love you,” you whispered, eyes glassy. His jaw clenched, and he kissed you hard. Your hips move faster, driven by how good he feels inside you, how much you’ve needed this—him. Every inch of him fills you so deeply, your soft moans spilling into his neck as you cling to his chest, your fingers curling against his warm skin. “Niki…” you breathe, your voice catching, overwhelmed by the way his hands grip your waist like he never wants to let go. You’re moving faster now, your movements desperate and full of need. His lips find your shoulder, your collarbone, anywhere he can touch, kiss, claim. “Look at you,” he pants against your skin, his voice raspy and low, “So needy for me…” You whimper again and nod, forehead pressed to his as you ride him, his name whispered like a prayer between shaky breaths.

Your thighs tremble from the effort, your pace faltering . Your hips start to slow, each bounce growing more uneven. The moans spilling from your lips get breathier, softer, your body struggling to keep up with how much you want him. You cling to his shoulders, dizzy from pleasure and effort, your head falling against his neck. “I…I can’t…” you whisper, barely able to speak through your panting. But Niki’s hands slide firmly around your waist. “I’ve got you.” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. Before you can even catch your breath, his grip tightens, and he starts lifting you and dropping you back down onto him—harder, deeper, faster. A choked gasp leaves your mouth as you’re overwhelmed by the sudden rhythm, his strength making your body bounce on him like you weigh nothing at all. “Niki—!” you cry out, burying your face in his shoulder, your fingers clawing into his back. He groans low, thrusting up to meet every movement, the sounds between you loud and shameless—wet, skin against skin, your soft whimpers, his ragged breathing.

“So cute,” he says softly, dragging his mouth against your jaw. “So fucked out already. Can’t even ride me without help, huh?” You only whimper, too lost in the feeling, too full, too sensitive. His hand slides down, fingers finding your clit again, rubbing slow circles that make your entire body jolt. He keeps bouncing you on his cock with deep, precise thrusts, each one hitting that sweet spot again and again. The pleasure overwhelms you, floods you, and your moans turn high-pitched and breathless, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. “Niki—! I-I’m gonna—” you pant. “Let go f’me,” he groans into your neck, voice low and gentle. “Be a good girl and cum.” You break with a cry, walls tightening around him so hard it makes him moan. He thrusts one more time, deep, sharp, and then he’s spilling inside you with a low, drawn-out curse, your name on his lips.

Both of you stay like that, panting, clinging to each other, your chests pressed together, skin slick and warm. He kisses you softly, lazily, holding you close. After a moment, he gently lifts your hips off him. You twitch at the overstimulation, thighs trembling. Niki glances down between your legs, and his grin grows wide, cocky. His cum is leaking out of you, slow and warm, and when he sees the embarrassed look on your face, he chuckles low in his throat. “Aww…don’t be shy, angel.” he coos. “Niki…” you whimper, trying to close your legs. But he tuts playfully, grabbing your thigh to keep them spread. “Don’t hide, baby. You look so pretty like this.” Then, before you can even react, he slides two fingers into you again, pushing his release back in, slow and deep. You gasp, back arching just slightly. “Gotta keep it in, yeah?” he murmurs teasingly, voice low as he leans down to kiss your cheek, soft and lingering.

You whine, burying your face in his neck from how sensitive you are, and he finally pulls his fingers out, his hand moving to your waist as he pulls you into his chest. For a while, neither of you says anything. He just holds you there, warm arms wrapped around your back, and you bury yourself into his bare skin, letting the steady beat of his heart calm the storm inside you. Eventually, he shifts, helping you lie down beside him. His arm stays around your waist, tugging you close, and you rest your head on his chest. Listening to the soft rhythm of his heart beneath your ear, you finally let your eyes fall shut, comforted by the warmth of his body and the safety of his hold. You fall asleep like that—wrapped in the arms of the boy you’ve always loved.

moodboard

minjeong turns her phone back to her and studies the photo closer. i can see her newly painted nails zooming in.

“i think i heard about johnny hosting a last minute thing… haechan didn’t tell you?” she doesn’t look at me, still focused on the picture, head tilted in confusion. 

i shrug, trying to act like not knowing of his whereabouts is a normal thing. it’s not, by the way.

“he knew i was hanging out with you, maybe that’s why.”

minjeong immediately scoffs, locking her phone and putting it away. “fuck off. you know he doesn’t give a shit that you’re with me. you’re his go to drinking buddy. he whines like a puppy when you take shots without him.” 

she laughs, but it’s half out of disgust. 

“well, it looks like he has a new one, so…” i intend for that to pass as a lighthearted joke, but there’s a snappiness that escapes my mouth. i wince and she looks at me with a softness in her eyes.

“oh babe…” she scoots closer to me on her rug, putting her arms out in an obnoxious gesture to comfort me.

“donnnn’tttt…,” i groan. “it was a joke. i’m not hurt. put those things away.” i slap at her hands and she pouts, arms still up, not backing down.

“haechan is so…” minjeong sighs, resting her head on my shoulder. 

“yeah. yeah, i know.” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

haechan and i are eating breakfast at our designated corner booth in the cafe between our two apartments. i can see the hungover drowsiness on his face. purple eye bags to match the purple splotches growing on his neck.

he’s chewing on his pancakes when i decide to ask, “so how was your night?” i flick at one of the hickeys on his neck and he flinches.

“heyyy!” he says through a mouthful of food, cheeks puffed out. 

“what was i supposed to do?” i shrug, innocently. “it’s like this huge, ginormous, gigantic, red target that i just have to-“ i aim for my next flick and he grabs my wrist swiftly.

“okay, cool it.” he drops my hand and it plops into my lap. 

i snicker at his nippy attitude, pinching his cheek to instigate further. “pouty boy was at johnny’s last night?”

haechan turns to look at me, throwing a lazy smirk. “you stalking me?” he says, earning me a groan.

i unlock my phone to show him my new prized lockscreen, an overexposed picture of two very drunk men smiling goofily. “you two idiots sent me a selfie last night.”

he hisses, nose scrunched up in distaste at the ridiculous picture of him and johnny. “not my best angle.”

“not sure if you have any,” i tease and haechan gives me a lopsided grin. “so who’s the lucky girl?”

“wouldn’t you like to know?” he counters, going in for another bite of my bacon. i let him take it.

“yeah, that’s why i asked,” i say with as much nonchalance as i could muster. i take my bacon strip back from his hands, even though there’s already not much left of it.

feeling bad, he cuts pieces of his pancake and puts them on my plate. i smile giddily, reaching for the syrup.

“her name’s lulu.” i pause mid syrup pour, not expecting him to have remembered her name. i clear my throat, recollecting myself, and continued to drench my food. 

it’s not that haechan is this dumb boy who gets around a lot. he totally could be with the amount of attention he used to get in college. but he was always careful about how far he’d flirt with someone, which is impressive considering his naturally charming personality. most words that came out of his mouth sounded like a pick up line.

i could only recall one serious relationship from our college years, and that in itself only lasted three months. of course, i remember him dating, but that’s all it was- super casual attempts to form a lasting relationship that never really pulled through. he’d go on a couple dates every so often, but never bothered me with the details because the details never seemed to matter. it was actually kind of cold, how he had approached dating.

but now i have a name. he has a name.

“oh wow,” i respond. “is this lulu… the one?” i joke, but the question leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, even with all the sugar from his pancakes.

“god, i forgot i’m talking to you.” haechan winces.

“hey, what’s that supposed to mean!” i elbow him in the side.

“it means i’m talking to a delusional hopeless romantic.” and weirdly that puts me at ease, that must mean he’s not too serious about her right? but then again, why should i care? right?

“you say that like it’s a bad thing,” i roll my eyes.

he just shakes his head, chuckling. “i’ll probably see her again this week.”

“oh?” i look at his side profile, watching him casually tap his phone screen to check for notifications. 

his lockscreen lights up and i’m reminded of our annual joint birthday party from earlier this year. it’s a picture of us with our shared cake, candles all lit, with our arms drunkenly wrapped tightly around the other. i remember our group of friends huddled around us, singing loudly and off tune. i’m looking at him as he’s looking at the camera and-

lulu texts.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“there are my girls!”

a very intoxicated johnny starts running towards minjeong and i, beer can sloshing around his hand and onto the dirt lot. following behind him are the rest of the group, matching his lack of sobriety.

“aww, you started without us,” minjeong pouts, taking the drink from him. johnny doesn’t fight it, smiling down at her.

“you guys got here so late, you missed the first couple sets!” jaehyun appears next to me, giving me a side hug and hovers there. he’s definitely buzzed already. he offers me a sip of his drink, which i gladly take.

“couldn’t get an uber, we were fighting for our lives. oh my god, it was so bad.” i groaned, throwing back the can so i can quickly get on their level.

“should’ve just left work early and met up with us,” johnny tsks.

“i just had one more work call! i didn’t know it’d go for that long,” minjeong explains, her slumped figure showing how exhausted she was. regardless, her last minute festival outfit looked amazing.

i scan the group and my brain notices the missing brunette.

“where’s haechan?” i look to jaehyun. he juts his head out aimlessly to the crowd of festival people.

“getting another drink,” he says, head bobbing to the surrounding sounds.

“he better have gotten me one,” i start, looking for him, expecting two drinks to be in his hands.

and there he is, jogging towards us, with a cup and… a girl.

i tense up and jaehyun takes it as a cue to relax into me further, heavy arm around my shoulders. i’m about to tell his drunk ass to get off, when he gives me a knowing look. confused, i let him lean on me.

“took you guys long enough,” haechan quips, and the girl remains standing slightly behind him.

“tell me about it,” minjeong rolls her eyes. then she looks at the girl and then back at haechan and then back at the girl. the rest of the group is quiet waiting for haechan to introduce her to minjeong and i, but his lips stay shut, completely unaware.

“hi, i’m minjeong,” she abruptly breaks the silence. her hand is extended and the girl takes hers out of haechan’s to shake it.

“lulu, so nice to meet you,” she smiles so sweetly i can tell she means it.

“i'm y/n,” i cut in, just waving at her, not really able to move any closer. there’s no glimpse of recognition on her face. she just gives me a “hi” and a smile like i’m just another girl a part of the friend group. no big deal.

jaehyun hums, “so should we go see the next stage?”

“let’s,” i say, desperate to get going and out of this weird air. jaehyun leads the way, and i follow suit, trying to limit my haechan interactions. something in my chest just tells me i don’t want to be speaking to him right now. 

unfortunately, he doesn’t know that so he’s catching up to me with lulu in tow.

“nice outfit, very 2024 of you,” haechan teases, flicking the seam of my reused skirt.

“kinda creepy that you remember i wore this to last year’s fest too…” i glare judgingly.

“you were complaining about how cold you were the entire time. how could i not?” he smirks. “ride was okay?”

“expensive, but okay,” i nodded, trying to act casual. “i’m sorry, lulu, right?”

said girl perks up from behind haechan and catches up to our pace. “yes, hi! sorry for crashing your guys’ plans. my friends bailed so… and then chanie asked and yeah!”

“oh chanie’s sweet like that,” i peer at haechan and his cheeks are pink at the sound of that nickname leaving my mouth. 

“how do you guys know each other?” i ask innocently. haechan throws me a knowing look and lets lulu talk.

“we started seeing each other after johnny’s party,” lulu smiles, glancing at haechan. he matches her look, pulling her closer to his side.

wow.

“you guys are…,” i swallow the lump in my throat. “you look- really cute together!” i try to mimic their smiles, but nothing comes close to the lovesick grins on their faces. 

“y/n.” 

i follow the sound of my name, and jaehyun’s hand is extended towards me. i stare at it, confused, but also weirdly filled with relief for the distraction. 

“there’s a gap in the crowd, i think we can squeeze to the front.”

without even checking in with haechan and lulu, i quickly grab his escape offer and he’s dragging me through the audience. i can suddenly smell the sweat and dirt of the desert, the sweet alcohol on people’s breaths. i feel myself getting queasy and i make the mistake of looking back as jaehyun moves me forward.

i get the perfect view of haechan and lulu kissing, swaying to the intro of the song. my feet finally stop and i run into jaehyun’s chest, his head is naturally far above mine and his eyes follow where i once looked. 

“i’m sorry,” he sort of yells over the artist on stage.

“what for?” i yell back. he playfully pinches the redness on my cheeks (not from the sun) and rolls his eyes as if saying: you know what.

he just shakes his head and holds mine in his hands, almost cradling it.

“i-,” i try to turn back to look at them again and his hands cage me.

“don’t,” jaehyun stands firm. “you’ll just hurt yourself more.”

with my stomach churning a pain i’ve never experienced before, i nod. i’m so still, scared that that awful feeling will make its way up to my chest.

jaehyun pulls me into a brief hug, and turns his attention back to the stage, holding me from behind. i watch the people from my peripheral, lightly dancing to the music and i try so hard to do the same.

“just have fun,” jaehyun reminds me.

but everytime i blink, i see them kissing and it makes me want to puke. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

what r u doing tomorrowww?

i stare at my text from yesterday, as i sit on the couch in the dark, with an episode of “Love Island USA” luminating my face. minjeong had already called it a night, and was asleep in her room. i cringe whenever i let my eyes linger up to all the one sided messages above it and his scarce one word responses. 

it’s been a couple months since i’d last hung out with haechan one on one. of course, i still saw him in group outings but he was always preoccupied with that one long haired girl and her signature red lip. 

even then, he was never really present. at last week’s bowling night, he showed up halfway and played for two rounds before pleading defeat. haechan was never one to not be competitive, and yet he took lulu to the arcade area where they stayed — just the two of them — the rest of the night. when we all ordered ubers at the end of the night, the backseat was crammed with me, her, and all her newly won stuffed animals. there was also a suffocating thickness in those seats with us too, and i don’t think it was from the human sized teddy bear that weighed on my shoulder. 

to torture myself even more, i let myself open my calls and it was embarrassing how many times his name showed up in unreturned calls. i went to delete all recent calls when a notification filled my screen: an incoming call from mama lee.

“hi honey, sorry to call so late! just wanted to check in on you!” my heart instantly warmed at the familiar twang in her voice that her and haechan seemed to share. i can hear her TV in the background playing the same show as me.

“hi mama lee! i’m great, tired, all of the above. how are you?” i finally let myself settle into the couch, realizing i had been tense this whole time waiting for a certain someone.

“i’m good, glad to hear you are too. what’s this about you not coming next month?” haechan’s mom asked, straight to the point, and suddenly i’m sat up again.

“next month…,” i mutter to myself, trying to recall what she could be referring to.

next month… next month… is december. their annual christmas party. 

“oh! the christmas par-“ i start, excitement filling my body. it had become my favorite time of the year, thanks to him and his family. 

“sweetie, haechan told me you aren’t coming. which i find unfair because how am i supposed to meet this new girl in his life without you there? i don’t know this girl!”

static fills my ear and i check the TV to see if the connection had gone off. but it was still on. nausea immediately fills my stomach as the combination of his months long lack of contact and this sudden news makes me feel dizzy. it’s like i can finally and physically feel the distance haechan forced between us that i was trying so hard to ignore.

i’m at a crossroads of whether to be honest or play along, because what does she mean haechan said i’m not going to a party i’ve gone to every year? to a party that never required an invitation? to a party i often skip my own family’s to go to? 

“oh i… my mom, she, um,” i fumble over my words and i can feel water splat onto my thighs. i’m distraught trying to protect her peace as i can feel mine rapidly falling apart. 

“sorry,” i softly laugh, trying to compose myself. i tilt my head up, hoping it’ll stop the sudden tears. “my mom really wants me home this season, so i can’t go this year.”

“aw honey, you don’t understand how sad i was to hear from him. why didn’t you tell me? i bought your favorite ham a month in advance like the crazy woman i am.” we laugh, but it does nothing to lighten the weight in my chest. 

“ah. maybe haechan will save me some leftovers,” i say, but now doubt he will. 

“okay, well, i’m glad your mom’s reaching out.” she says, and i can tell she means it. sucks knowing it’s not even true.

mama lee continues, “it’s getting late for me. i gotta sleep, but i wanna hear more from you soon, okay? you owe me.” her sweet voice pierced my heart, and i feel myself hiccupping again.

“yes, ma’am,” i manage to get out, and we say our good night’s and i love you’s.

then my screen goes back to those cursed text messages and i delete our entire chat.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“he said what?” jaehyun’s eyes are as wide as i’ve ever seen them, fork suspended mid air. the egg falls from it, and comically splats onto the plate. 

we’re at the same cafe i often frequent with haechan, but because i’m here with jaehyun, we’re eating at an ungodly early hour of the day. i had never seen this place at this time, but jaehyun is an extreme morning bird. 

“i literally got uninvited from his family’s christmas party and i had to hear it from his mom.” i confess, surprised at how composed i sounded despite it being the most devastating news of my life. shockingly worse than finding out my parents were getting divorced back in high school. i saw it coming, but this? never in a million years.

“but you… you’ve always gone. his family is literally yours.” jaehyun’s confusion takes over his mouth, and i don’t think he realizes how much his obvious statement stung.

“i bought his siblings their gifts already too. i never thought i wouldn’t get the chance to exchange them?” i swirl the lukewarm coffee mug in my hands, not having the stomach to take a sip.

“this is fucked up. has he talked to you about it yet?” 

“nope,” i pop my lips. “what makes you think he even has the time to?” i sneer, referring to a certain woman occupying all his time. i feel disgusting having these ill feelings towards her, despite her literally not being at fault. 

jaehyun grimaces, and he instinctively gives my arm a squeeze. “doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole. he should’ve told you. but also, he shouldn’t have uninvited you in the first place? you’ve never not gone.”

i shrug, “maybe it was wrong of me to assume…”

“when you’ve gone every year since i’ve known you? you’ve gone more times than me and haechan and i are childhood neighbors. come on…” jaehyun plants the hard facts i’m unwilling to face, and i squirm in my seat. i take a sip of my coffee and feel it run down the sides of the knot in my throat, sickeningly bitter. 

“it’s whatever. anyways, since you’re going home, do you mind giving his siblings their gifts for me? minjeong invited me to her home for the holidays instead.”

“sure, but-“

“oh hey, guys?”

jaehyun and i look up from our table, stunned to hear the voice of our drama calling us. 

“haechan,” i only say, feeling awkward that we were just talking about him but also weird that this is the first i’ve seen him in weeks. 

he’s carrying a takeout bag in his hand, dressed in clothes he definitely picked up off the floor. i could see the side of his head where his pillow messed up his brown, fluffy hair and the bags under his eyes that always signal late night gaming. he’s wearing a confused look on his face as he scans jaehyun and i.

we’re sitting in our designated booth and before i could let myself feel like i’m cheating on him, the sour reminder of our conversation takes over.

“take out?” jaehyun wonders.

haechan clears his throat, shaking him out of the weird daze he was in. “yeah, lu is waiting at home.”

at home. the air leaves my lungs just hearing that come out of him, and i realize that this is a feeling i really need to dissect. this cannot be just platonic jealousy, right? losing my best friend these past few months isn’t supposed to hurt this bad.

“got plans for next month? when are you heading home?” jaehyun goes straight for the kill, and i kick the side of his foot to stop him from prying. i don’t know if i want to hear his answers.

haechan’s eyes widen and he immediately looks at me. his hands tighten around the white plastic takeout bag. i can see his mind struggle to tell me something and the pained look on his face makes me want to save him the trouble. he begins to start and i just can’t bear it.

“minjeong’s taking me to hers this christmas,” i cut him off, filling him in on my newfound plans, that i really didn’t have a choice in making if i wanted to not spend the holidays alone. it hurts seeing the way his body relaxes, i can visibly see him fill with the relief of knowing i’m not going. my eyes naturally water, and i quickly dab them away. 

“can you let your mom know i can’t come this year? i don’t know if i could tell her myself,” i shrug, mustering a close lipped smile. i can feel jaehyun’s disappointing glare burn into my face, or maybe it’s the sharp sting of his hand that just punched my thigh under the table. 

“oh. oh! yeah, yeah, of course,” haechan forces sadness onto his facial features. “sorry to hear you can’t go, but holidays at minjeong’s sounds fun! we’ll miss you,” he starts to fidget with the bag now and his feet shift. he scratches the back of his left ear, a tell-tale sign that he’s uncomfortable… or feeling guilty.

“ah, but you always go to the lee holiday party?” jaehyun turns towards me, boldness flashing in his eyes as he dares me to address it. 

“next time!” haechan quickly interjects. “don’t worry about it!”

“i’m not.” i state, point blank, and a new expression paints his face that i can’t decipher.

“we-well, lulu’s probably starving by now, so. i’ll see you guys later?” haechan rambles out, already taking steps away from us.

“maybe,” i shrug, feeling the iciness take over my body and make its way into my words. 

“right,” haechan nods, stumbling as he leaves the cafe. i don’t bother watching him leave, starting to stab my food aggressively with my fork. 

“i can’t believe he just did that,” jaehyun says in disbelief, but i’m so consumed with rage i can barely hear him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

i get voicemails from haechan’s siblings on the morning of christmas, thanking me for the gifts, wondering why i’m not there, and most importantly, asking me who this lulu is and why she’s taken my spot. i make a mental note to call them back when i’m not downing mugs of minjeong’s dad’s strangely strong eggnog.

somehow the classical christmas music that had been playing on loop for the past two hours in minjeong’s living room had shifted to karaoke, and i can feel the alcohol hitting everyone all at once. the matching pajamas that her family forced me to wear started to feel too warm on my skin like it didn’t belong on me. i sat and watched her drunk uncle sing to a random Justin Bieber song and i catch myself thinking singing must not run in their family the way it does for haechan’s.

i itch to call him, but i know i shouldn’t. but the guilt of not even wishing him a merry christmas eats me up despite him having yet to do the same. i avoided mentioning him all day because i knew minjeong would say something, but now that she’s too preoccupied with her solo, i slip into her childhood room. 

it feels like i’m walking on a moving boat as i cross her room to crash onto her bed. her popcorn ceiling spins in my vision and i groan at how out of body i feel. 

my thumb is already clicking his contact before i could register it and my phone blinks, indicating he’s picked up.

“hello?” i hear him faintly on the other side, chatter quieting in the background. i put him on speaker and i hear him shut a door. the party sounds on his side are now muffled.

“hi haechan. merry christmas,” i don’t notice how sweet my voice sounds till a second later and my whole body cringes.  

i hear him sigh, and i turn to my side, cradling my phone. “merry christmas.”

“how’sss… the party?” i ask, just trying to keep him on the line for as long as possible. 

“crazy per usual. the kids say thank you for the gifts, i made sure they called you too. did you get them?” his voice is so clear and sober, i feel like a groggy mess talking to him. i want him to sound as messy as me. his words sting like ice with how composed he sounds. 

“mhmmm,” i hum. “i’m glad, so so so glad.” i play with the frays of minjeong’s blanket between my fingers, starting to sing my words. 

“sounds like you’re having fun,” haechan laughs under his breath. “we miss you here.”

that statement alone felt like an ice cold bucket of water dunked over my head. my vision suddenly cleared, the room stilled, and i felt like i could hear even a pin drop. how could he say that when he fought so hard to isolate me like this?

“is that so?” i test him. 

“yeah, of course,” haechan starts. “you know it’s not the same without you.” i hear his bed creak and i know he’s sitting on the left corner where one of his bed slats has cracked. haechan used to volunteer to sleep on that side on the holiday weekends when i was over. he’d start on that side and in the middle of the night, i’d hear it creak as he rolled over to cuddle me. he’d apologize every time in the morning despite it never being an issue for me. 

thinking of that memory being lost and forgotten hurt more than the fact that it could be replaced by another person right now. 

i sit up, ignoring the spinning of my head. “is that what you told your mom?” my voice sounded sterner than i thought it could at this level of toxicity. 

he’s silent on his end. i give him a couple seconds to see if he’d confess. 

“you know she actually called me a month ago. said you told her i wasn’t coming.” i continued. he’s still quiet and it’s so pathetic.

“i had to lie to her, haechan,” i hiccup, tasting salt in my mouth that wasn’t there before. “i told her that my mom reached out to me which was probably such a bad lie since we both know she’d never do that.” 

haechan hissed, and it’s like i can see him in his childhood room, trying to rub the stress out from the creases between  his eyes. 

“i had to lie and say that, instead of the truth. the truth being that my best friend doesn’t want me at his family party, in his life even, and he didn’t have the fucking guts to tell me.” i spit out these words like venom, and i can hear them hitting him through the phone, not knowing if they’re doing the damage i want them to.

“look, i… i didn’t know what to do. please, just-“ suddenly i feel the balance shift, and i can feel how small he sounds on the other end. hiding in his room like a coward.

“your mom texted me pictures, said she wishes i was there. it hurt so bad, haechan,” i start crying and i thank god that the karaoke is still blasting because i can’t control how loud my sobs are. “it hurt so bad seeing you two laughing and looking happy in those pictures.”

i didn’t have to specify who; he knows. i know he knows with the way he falls silent. i almost think he hung up.

“i’m sorry,” is all he can say. it could’ve been a fly buzzing by my ear with how insignificant his lackluster apology sounded right now.

“i thought it would be me,” i confess, surprising him and myself. and it feels better than i expected, or maybe it’s the alcohol suppressing my anxieties. i wonder how good it must feel to be lulu, knowing that the boy that i love is now in love with her. 

“i know,” he says. i hang up so fast, tossing my phone away, because i almost think i hallucinate him saying “me too.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

when the plane landed, i had 4 missed calls from haechan, 2 from his mom, and 1 from his sister. i didn’t end up telling minjeong what transpired because she was already so upset leaving her family the following morning; her eyes were all puffy. a day has passed and i still haven’t said anything, not sure if it’s because i’m over it or if it’s out of embarrassment. 

it wasn’t till later today where i was forced to confront what happened when jaehyun calls, desperately asking to be picked up from the airport. 

“i don’t see you, are you sure you’re at terminal 1? i’m literally at the end of it.” i practically scream through the call connected to my old 2008 lexus. 

“what? no, terminal 2. we’re at terminal 2,” jaehyun repeats, just as loudly.

“wait. we?” i ask, before spotting the two boys with their luggages at the curb of terminal 2, and a girl beside them.

i pull in, trying my best not to stare, cursing under my breath and hoping whatever bad karma i’ve collected throughout my twenty plus years of life gets passed onto jaehyun for omitting this important detail. i put the car in park and hop out to open the trunk. 

“you owe me,” i say at the exact same time as jaehyun’s, “i owe you.” 

he puts his luggage in and picks me up into a spinning hug. i smack his solid shoulder, not falling for his buttering tactics. 

“you smell like the plane,” i scowl. jaehyun just laughs and taps the trunk of my car, still open and waiting for the others standing awkwardly to the side. 

“haechan, you okay? you know we’ve landed, right?” he jokes in response to his friend’s stillness.

i don’t even bother giving haechan a glance despite feeling his eyes try their best to make contact with mine. i simply get back into the driver’s seat, waiting for them to finish loading the car. 

eventually, i hear the passenger door open and i turn, ready to talk to jaehyun, but it’s not him. 

“why are you—“ 

“feeling sick from the plane, i don’t think i can sit in the back.” haechan says, matter of factly. 

i narrow my eyes at him, shocked at the way i can look at him now and ignore the sound of my heart breaking.

his brown hair has gotten longer, it curls around the nape of his neck. its messy all on top like he’s ran his hands through it multiple times. the wind from outside makes it flop everywhere. on top of that, his eyes are tired and his cheeks i liked to pinch so much sag a little. 

his lips are rolled in and chapped as he waits for me to challenge him and i don’t have the energy to. so i just redirect my attention to the two in the back.

“lulu, am i dropping you off with haechan?” she’s sitting neatly in my car and we both can feel how weird this is.

“ummm, my house is fine, if it’s not too out of the way,” she smiles at me. “thanks for picking us up.”

i decide not to shoot haechan a questioning look and i just let her punch in her address. 

during the whole twenty minute ride, i’m asking jaehyun as many questions as possible, sounding like someone really invested in his christmas plans. i eventually got a detailed breakdown of his entire weekend itinerary. haechan wasn’t able to get a single word in, but it also didn’t seem like he wanted to — which was odd for him. 

i dropped lulu off and i begin mapping to haechan’s, when he stops me. 

“jaehyun’s closer.” 

“no i’m not.” “no he’s not.” jaehyun and i say simultaneously. 

“yes, he is,” haechan says sternly, already having the GPS set. 

i don’t have the energy to fight him so i drive to jaehyun’s, not needing the directions. i can see him twiddling his thumbs in the back and i make glances through the rearview mirror. he just shrugs and i chew my lip nervously. 

“thanks again for the ride. breakfast on me tomorrow?” jaehyun offers once we reach his place, head sticking through my driver side window, duffel strapped onto his shoulder. 

haechan’s head pokes out from my peripheral, “she’s got plans.” 

my eyebrows shoot up at the same time jaehyun’s eyes go wide. he simply nods and gives me a shoulder squeeze good bye. 

i pull out of his apartment complex, and start heading towards haechan’s, praying the silence isn’t disturbed during this short five minute drive. 

“i can’t believe you got my brother that new ps5 game,” haechan starts. “mom’s already using it as leverage to get his grades up.”

i simply hum in response, not letting my eyes drift off the road. 

“she really liked the necklace you got her. she practically screamed when she opened the box.” i can’t see it, but i can feel him smiling fondly. his family’s happiness always meant the most to him.

i can’t help the warm relief i feel in my chest knowing his mom liked my gift. unfortunately, my thoughts turn sour as i wonder if she liked it more than the gift lulu got her. my hands grip the wheel tighter.

“she grilled me pretty bad this morning… i told her the truth.” now it feels like the air’s been sucked out of the car.

“and what is ‘the truth’?” i manage to say. 

he goes quiet again and i see his apartment up ahead. i pull over and park the car, not caring how far we actually were, and turned the engine off. the car is still humming as it settles down, and i take my seatbelt off, hoping it’ll take the weird weight off my chest. 

“what’d you tell her, haechan?” 

he sat still and didn’t move a muscle. i can see his brain churning as he refuses to look at me now. but i’m staring at him dead on, unrelenting. 

“i told her that i didn’t want you there.”

wow. 

i blinked. and i blinked. and i blinked, hoping my eyes would deceive me into seeing some sort of sign that he was lying. a flinch. an ear scratch. anything.

i open my mouth to say something (im not sure what) and i hope he beats me to it, ready to deny his claim, but he doesn’t. 

after all these years in each other’s lives, this is how he truly feels? a huge chunk of me wants to convince myself he must be lying, but how could i when he’s saying it straight to my face like this. so many questions run through my head and each one left unanswered feels like another stab to the chest.

when did he start feeling this way? was our friendship just a charity for him? were my feelings for him never reciprocated in the slightest? was it all a lie?

“and… and that’s your truth?” i whisper, but it felt like a desperate cry, begging him to say no. 

“yes. and what’s even more true is that i broke your heart.” 

he peaks at me, between the cracks of his fingers that are now cradling his face. i can tell he’s not being fully honest about what’s going on between us, and i’m not sure if he can right now, but he wasn’t wrong about what he said about the state of my heart. 

“hm. ‘tis the season.” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

while shutting my laptop screen, i say bye to my coworkers as we leave the conference room. despite usually getting winter break off, my boss had called in an emergency meeting to settle things before people start truly ignoring their work emails. my coworkers had every right to complain about coming in on a saturday during the holidays while they badged into the building, but i didn’t mind. no meeting could be worse than the week i’ve had. 

i was last to leave the floor since i had a couple things at my desk to grab. getting onto the elevator alone, i watched the numbers descend until it halted at the 21st floor. i awkwardly side stepped to make room for the oncoming person as the doors parted. 

“oh.” i could only gape because right in front of me was lulu.

“oh!” she returned, before giving me a wave and getting in. “they got you working the holidays too?”

i try to look at her from my peripheral, but it feels too awkward. like any movement on my part would be weird. 

“not really, my boss just stresses and so she called a quick meeting.” i roll my lips in, teetering on the balls of my feet. could this elevator be any slower?

“oh wow. mine doesn’t believe in holiday breaks, hence why i’m here. i didn’t know you worked in this building.” she eyes my laptop, looking for a company name.

“it was my first job out of college, but they had me working remote for my first year.” i explain.

“oh, that makes sense. i feel like i’m always here and yet i only saw you for the first time with hae-” lulu cuts herself off, and clears her throat.

my face grows hot, immediately thinking that she must’ve heard from him about my drunk christmas breakdown. i’d be furious if i weren’t so embarrassed right now. i turn to finally look at her, in an attempt to take control of this situation. 

“too many floors, lots of people,” i smile half-heartedly, giving her a shrug. finally, the elevator stops at the lobby and i let out a breath that i don’t mean to.

“anyways, happy holidays! maybe i’ll see you at johnny’s,” i wave my white flag, coming to terms with this being my reality if her and haechan continue dating. i'm done fighting it.

lulu doesn’t get off the elevator, and she tilts her head, puzzlement painting her face. she shakes it off quickly and just nods, reaching her hand out to keep the door from shutting on her.

i hurry out the building, muttering curses under my breath because of course, not only did i have to run into lulu, but i forgot my coat at my desk as well. wrapping my cardigan tighter around my body, i trudge through the city streets to get to my car because of course, our parking garage is closed.

i hear someone calling my name behind me, and i turn around to see lulu chasing after me. her cheeks look pink like they were whipped by the recent cold winds. and yes, she looks perfect.

“i wanted- i wanted to clarify something.” she catches her breath, holding onto my shoulder. i try not to knock it off like a bitch, so i glare at her hand, waiting for her to get a hint. but she doesn’t, or pretends she doesn't, as she continues.

“we broke up,” she starts. “and yeah, it has to do with us as individuals, but it was mainly… it was mainly to do with you.” 

while rooted in shock, i search her to face to find any ounce of rage or bitterness towards me. my guards are up looking for a sign that she was going to slap me across the face, but i sensed nothing. i’m about to ask her why when she starts again.

“he hurt me pretty bad, but i should’ve seen it coming. i’m not you,” she shrugs, as if she’s already come to terms with her feelings. she says it as if it was a true and proven fact. but none of what she said makes sense to me. also, i know we’re not talking, but why didn’t he tell me? why didn’t he tell any of us?

“i don’t understand…” i say.

“i’ve said too much. you don’t need to understand right now, just promise you’ll hear him out. i know you don’t think you owe me anything, but you technically cost me my boyfriend so… do me this favor.”

before i could agree to anything, she finally lets go of my shoulder and laughs with relief. she tosses her hair over her shoulder and takes a breath, recollecting herself. she never looked like she was in shambles – as she is portraying – to begin with. 

“that felt good. anyway, happy holidays to you too.” and lulu walked away. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

johnny’s new year’s extravaganza is on full blast — the biggest turn out he’s ever had. a lot of people ditched their work parties and their family events to gather in his house for a better time. it was so busy that there was barely any open space and he ran out of ice.

before he could instacart some with his drunk trembling fingers, i’m taking the phone from him.

“i’ll get it!” i yelled over the DJ — the DJ is him. “i didn’t drink, i’ll go pick some up!” 

he takes one side of his headphones off, tilting his head asking, are you sure? but the puppy dog look in his eyes shows how much he prefers this over those hiked up delivery fees.

i give him his phone back and tell him i’ll be back in a few. on my way out, i catch a stumbling minjeong and she says she’s gonna stay the night. 

right before i reach the door, jaehyun and our friends come down the stairs, smoke wafting around them. my eyes automatically count the number of them and of course, i notice one missing.

“hey where’s-“ i stop myself, rolling my lips in. unfortunately, they’re not high enough to mishear me or maybe it’s expected of me to want to know his whereabouts. maybe it’s obvious to everyone how i feel about him. what do i know?

“he never showed up,” mark says. “guess he’s not feeling well? did johnny get new floors?” 

mark cautiously steps around like the floor is made of fragile glass and i grab onto his arm, afraid he’s going to fall. he starts giggling like crazy and it’s so cute. 

jaehyun quickly steps in and catches mark’s weight before it crushes me. i give him a thanks and tell him i’m going to get ice. 

“you sure? it’s so late. fuck johnny, we can drink lukewarm drinks.”

i shake my head, “i think i need the air anyways.”

he offers me his car after checking that i’m sober, but i turn him down, already making my way out.

the air is lightly crisp and chilly, no clouds in the sky. it’s the perfect new year weather for fireworks. i’m already two blocks down and there’s still people from his party scattered on the streets. 

while deep in my thoughts about a certain missing someone, i realize i missed the turn to the gas station and am now walking home. as suffocating as it was in that packed house, it felt worse choking on my persistent thoughts in the middle of the night. 

i can feel the deepening crack in my heart that only made this new loneliness of the holiday more apparent. i just finished sending johnny an apology text and i start digging in my purse for my keys. 

the steps to my apartment complex’s front door is occupied by a pair of shoes, connected to a pair of legs, holding up a tired looking haechan. my toes meet his in my haggard search to find my keys and i almost fall back in surprise. he quickly stands to catch my wrist and i’m yanked into his chest, keys falling to the ground.

“what are you- what are you doing here?” i twist my arm out of his grip and take a step back onto flat ground. a small part of me (a big one) fills with relief knowing he was here the whole time and is okay and i feel betrayed by that side of me. 

he looks at me incredulously like he’s not the one camped outside my house. then he looks around to see if anyone is with me, growing concerned.

“what the hell are you doing walking home alone at this time? those assholes couldn’t take you?” standing two steps above me, haechan lectures me like a parent and i’m in no position to be scolded. like a child, the irritation easily blooms in my chest.

“stop acting like you care. it’s pissing me off.” i groan, suddenly feeling all the tiredness from the day in my bones. “you made it clear how you feel about me so just… stop.” you’re confusing me, i think.

i stand here challenging him, quirking an eyebrow waiting for him to move. 

he grabs my lanyard off the ground instead.

“look i…can i?” he gestures to the door, wanting to go inside, looking defeated. his shoulders have fallen from their tense position and haechan just looks so worn out. with how disheveled his appearance is, it looks like he had been waiting outside for hours.

“i… don’t know if that’s a good idea.” i bite my lip, trying to fight the annoying guilt i feel like i’m leaving a stray puppy out in the cold. but i knew that if i let him into my circle again, i’d just end up even more hurt. 

haechan just nods, handing me my keys back. “if you want the whole neighborhood to know how badly i fucked up and how awfully sorry i am, i don’t mind doing this outside.” 

“doing what exactly?” i ask, crossing my arms in front of me. for someone standing so tall above me, he now looked so vulnerable from where i stood below him. 

“apologizing.” haechan states, taking a step down. “confessing.” another step down. perfectly level.

my lips are holding back so many questions, so many exclamations. he can see it in my eyes how quickly my mind runs and how hard i’m trying to not blurt all my thoughts out. i want him to continue, he needs to.

“lulu and i broke up, first of all. that awkward airport car ride was not just awkward because of… us.” he laughs, reliving the scene. i can hear lulu’s words repeating in my head, but i refuse to make sense of them right now. 

“i think… i realize… i was just playing house with her. forcing myself to keep this seemingly easy girlfriend because… because the one i truly wanted scared me so badly.” haechan looks at me with his soft, round brown eyes, making it so obvious who he was referring to. it made me hopeful enough to ask. 

“i scare you?” i say quietly, still so confused and processing the millions of emotions coarsing through my chest. you want me?

“you terrify me.” 

“i don’t un-“

“the way you love me terrifies me. the thought of losing you terrifies me. the way i feel for you terrifies me. the thought of not being enough for you terrifies me!” as he lists, his voice gets louder and i have to grip his forearm to get him to quiet down. 

“haechan…”

“no, i’ve spent years with this fear, fighting my fucking feelings for you just to feel safe. but this… what i’ve done? it feels a million times worse than whatever this stupid fear may manifest. and i should’ve known from all those romcoms you make me watch where the male lead makes the same fucking mistake!” his eyes are ground in by the palms of his hands, pushing back on the tension i can see brewing in his head. 

“i messed up so bad thinking i was doing both of us a favor. but i hurt you more than i ever thought i could. i’m an asshole.” he cries, sniffling hard. with his hands now at his sides, fists clenched, i can clearly see the tears he tried so hard to hold back. 

“i’m sorry… but i love you.” haechan confesses with a pained smile on his tear-stained face, shrugging like it’s truly something to be apologizing for. 

it makes my heart spur with something along the lines of anger, but not quite.

“you’re an idiot for thinking you should ever be sorry for that.” 

i finally speak up. “you’re so stupid!” i shove him, feeling my bag fall off my shoulder.

“you’re so, so stupid!” i punch at his chest, bag smacking onto the floor. 

“i know, i know i-“ he stammers.

“no! you don’t know! how could you decide all of this for us? that not having me in your life would be easier than taking a chance on-on losing me? or loving me?! do you understand how selfish you sound? how selfish you’ve been?” i’m enraged. my fingers are curled around the fabric of the bottom of his shirt because i still can’t quite reach his collar. i’m desperate for him to genuinely hear me for what feels like the first time in months. 

his jaw is locked, eyes watery to match mine, as he files through what he could say in response. 

“what’s even shittier is that you knew this whole time how much i loved you,” my voice cracks, a hiccup escaping my mouth. 

“loved?” he asks, sounding wounded by the past tense. and it drives me nuts that that’s what he latched onto. 

“love, you idiot,” i clarify without hesitation. “i love you so much…”

and despite how clear that confession was, haechan searches my eyes like he’s looking for more to be said. like he can easily palpate the true feelings i’ve been holding back, begging me to continue. 

“…enough to maybe overlook this.” i let go, knowing i can’t hold back any longer. 

haechan’s face shifts almost instantly, not shying away from laughing out of pure relief. “oh my god,” he gasps, taking my hands from his shirt and weaving them with his own to clutch tight to his chest. “thank god.” 

i can feel his heart racing between our hands intertwined. it feels like the same one drumming in my chest. i look at his face against the night sky and it feels both strange and comforting that he’s so freely staring at me with that lovesick look in his eyes. they sparkle like they’re mimicking the stars above him. 

“have i told you i’m sorry? i need you to know i’m sorry and that i’m going to fix everything. i promise.” he kisses my knuckles lightly, scared to push it. 

before i can respond, we both faintly hear the muffled yells of the neighborhood counting in sync. 

5!

our eyes widen simultaneously, suddenly realizing where we were and what time it was. we start laughing as the bubble around us pops.

4!

haechan shakes his head at the timing of it all, eyes bright and sparkly at the prospects. he already looks so much lighter and he looks at me like i’m a new beginning.

3!

despite all the anger i had felt for him, my body knows better and my arms make their way around his neck, lifting me up a little higher to meet his face. 

2!

his mouth parts, head cocked slightly to the side as if to ask if this was truly okay. i shyly nod and he instantly brings his hands to my waist to pull me impossibly closer. i laugh at his eagerness and i can feel the joy rumbling in his chest against mine. 

1! 

… happy new year!

a startling crack erupts above us, sending a flurry of colors into the sky. i tilt my chin to look up, but he takes this new angle to capture my lips with his instead. the new and exciting feeling of his mouth against mine sends a surge of electricity coursing through my body at a rate that matches the fireworks above. his fingers curve into my hips as if i could disappear at any moment and i cradle the nape of his neck to let him know i’m still here. 

we hear hooting and hollering, poppers going off, and champagne bottles bursting open. it feels like the whole world is celebrating us, as ridiculous as it sounds. 

my body is consumed with how much i just love kissing haechan; i can’t help the smile that makes its way onto my face, and our teeth awkwardly clink. he laughs under his breath, letting me know he feels the same, and it feels good to just rejoice in this mutual buzz. he gives me a peck on the lips, then another on my cheek, and another on my forehead. he goes for the other cheek but i meet him with my lips instead. 

“hey,” i get his attention.

his eyebrows perk and he gives me a sly look, “heyyy…”

i scoff, but it doesn’t match the giddy smile on my face. “no, dumbass. hey, don’t think this one kiss solves everything, okay?” i take him by his shoulders to put some distance between us so he knows i mean business.

“so like… 500 more kisses will do the trick or…?” he starts leaning in and i shove my hand over his mouth.

“haechan!” 

“okay, okay! i’m joking! trust,” he tears my palm off his face. “my mom already warned me that it’d take way more than this to win you back.” 

“she said that?” i snicker. 

“i told you she ripped me a new one. she didn’t need to, i knew how badly i fucked up. but she loves you almosttt as much as i do, so i don’t blame her.” he smiles, looking at me in a way i had only imagined in my dreams. 

“and you’re not… scared anymore?” 

“i am.” he says confidently, but there’s no doubt riddled on his face. “but i want this more than whatever insecurities i may have. i want you way more.” 

haechan rests his head onto mine, taking in a deep breath, “so will you have me?”

i pretend to think about it to tease him and he pokes at my side. “forgiving a cute brunette boy was actually one of my new years’ resolutions so yeah.”

“oh how gracious of you,” he jokes, hand over his heart, shaken by my generosity. “can we kiss again?”

“that’s actually another one of my-“

“oh shut up.” and i do. or really, he shuts me up.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

ㅤㅤㅤ"It's nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today, even though it's very early in the morning," she softly speaks into the phone. "Ah," she sighs, "I'm sorry about all of this by the way. Sometimes it's just hard, and it gets worse when there's no one to talk to." 

ㅤㅤㅤ"You can call me whenever you want, even if you don't have a reason to. You know that," he assures her. She hums and glances out her window, the rising light from the incoming sun making the dewy grass shine. It causes her to smile before she sniffles and wipes a few fallen tears away. 

ㅤㅤㅤ"I'm really grateful for you, Sunghoon. Thank you for putting up with me," she chuckles pathetically. He sighs into the phone, his heart clenching at her words. 

ㅤㅤㅤ"I'll always be here for you, even on your worst days." The once sluggish man maneuvers out of bed, puts his phone on speaker, and goes to pull on a sweatshirt. "I'm coming over," he declares. 

ㅤㅤㅤ"Hoon, you should go back to sleep-," 

ㅤㅤㅤ"I'd rather fall asleep once I know you're okay. Even more so if you're in my arms," he cuts her off. She breathes out and nods, even though he can't see it, before she looks around her room. "Go unlock the door and get back in bed after, okay? I'll be there soon," he says softly. 

ㅤㅤㅤ"Can you stay on the call?" She asks hopefully. Her ears perk up at the sound of his car starting, and he hums before answering her. 

ㅤㅤㅤ"I was planning to, my love." 

ㅤㅤㅤShe bites back a smile and gets out of bed to pad to the front door, her fingers swiftly unlocking it, before she tells him, "It's unlocked." 

ㅤㅤㅤShe uses the bathroom and washes around her eyes to soothe them from her previous tears, before heading back to her bed. Sighing as her body hits the mattress, the blankets make their way around her again as she awaits his arrival. 

ㅤㅤㅤ"I'm nine minutes away." 

ㅤㅤㅤThose minutes seem to pass by rather quickly, and she's dreaming when the sound of keys hits her dresser, exhausted from the sobs that once escaped her lips. She knows his body is still clad in his pajamas as he makes his way to her. 

ㅤㅤㅤ"I'm here, princess," he speaks as he watches over her sleeping figure, and he soon joins her underneath the comforter. 

ㅤㅤㅤHe encloses her body in his embrace as he brushes her hair away from her eyes. "My sleeping beauty. Rest now, I'm here," he whispers to her, his lips twitching to mold against hers. But he settles for her forehead once her eyes flutter, and he's soon following her into a deep slumber. 

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