#And I did end up pulling on my shoulder
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radiates-confusion · 2 years ago
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We're back again already with a part to the bus chronicles! And, of course, with a random picture taken of a part of my most frequented bus stop!
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For todays section:
People who manage to use the weird handle things when stood up in a bus, I'm impressed by you.
My shoe slid and whilst the handle thing stopped me from slamming into the ground, it did not stop me from almost taking up half the walkway. Fun times!
Sitting in such a way where you're not facing the way you're going, but instead where you've been, is a unique joy I've discovered recently!
For some reason it's also easier on my eyes and their not-glasses-worthy-but-still-bullshit bullshit-ery! Fun times!
Today's segment was brought to you by a rather content passenger, albeit with a sore shoulder. ^ ^
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vaguely-concerned · 6 months ago
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sophia seeing cailan's body hanging there when they go back to ostagar, and suddenly all she can see even through the rot and the ruin is just how much he looked like alistair...... :'(
a mental image that totally will not haunt her through alistair's many years on the throne as rebellions and assassination attemps come and go. doesn't send her unhinged and unwise even a little
#I've never played back to ostagar before actually! getting some more delicious trauma for everyone#and also zev was there (affectionate)#oc: sophia amell#warden x alistair#dragon age#dragon age origins#the vibes are slightly weird in the dialogue in this dlc -- this uh. did not seem to be the relationship alistair and cailan had#such as it even was. but hey I got this angst out of it what more can I ask#I had sophia and alistair smooch on the platform place thingy where you meet him for the first time. I am a sap but I am free#what's that post about the unconquerable human spirit that's like 'despite all the horrors I am still horny' again. basically they're that#alistair is honestly The most pocket healed warrior of all time he's got two spirit healers who love him laser focused on him#at all times#(sophia switches between unleashing horrifying amounts of raw magical power on the enemy and going 'oh nooo let me see I'll fix it')#that boy is Protected. wynne and sophia glaring at you past his shoulders like 'he said no FUCKING pickles ok. last warning'#(actually probably sophia would glare at you from like. the height of his armpit; she's Short lol)#also partially why I had to change my canon b/c if alistair was left in the fade sophia would. she would quite simply end the world#long before solas had the time to. she would tear the veil to shreds to get to him. mind and circle mage restraint irretrievably lost#her greatest fear is becoming unmoored (which in many ways also means losing alistair) and everyone else should be afraid of that too#I do like how this playthrough is shaking out tho it feels like a more grown-up version of the story I told with them originally#more complicated and acknowledging the other forces pulling on them (when I was younger I liked the freedom of them both staying wardens)#but it just makes the 'we're sticking together *no matter what*' all the more satisfying and triumphant for me.#we'll find a way and if there is no way we'll fucking make it together :') and they do
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fraternum-momentum · 1 year ago
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I CANT I CANTTTTTTT I WILL LITERALLY EXPLODE RJIKNHGKRSBKFUCKNHJHFBNJEA JFHBAEJHBFJHBHBHBHBHBBAZHJDBAJHDBAJKHBDJKNA????A//////!?!!!!!!!!??!!???!?!?!??!! I CANNOT I LITERALLY NOT THE CAN I CANTTTTTT RAUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
#⚠️WARNING⚠️TAGS R SUPER FUCKING LONG I NEEEEED TO RAMBLE ABOUT LOVE AND DEEPSPACE I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS#SUGGESTIVE ART? NSFW? LITERAL GODDAMN PORN? LIGHT WORK NO REACTION#POV ROMANTIC OTOME GAME SHIT WITH THE TINIEST HINT OF SPICE??? I CANNOT ITS TOO MCUH I ITS AUGHHH IM JNUHJHFUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK#IM LIKE FUCKING PLAYING THIS GAME WITH A HAND COVERING MY EYES WHILE PEEKING ITS TOO MUCH#I AM LOOKING AWAY EVERY SECOND IM NOT STRONG ENOUGH FUCKUNGBHGJGHJHGHGBJJH#I HATE HATE HATEEEEE (not rly) IT WHEN THEY GET NEAR U ITS AUGH ITS SO WEIRD I PUT MY PHONE FURTHER AWAY FROM ME OUT OF EMBARASSMENT#SOMETIMES I LOSE MY IMMERSION AND GET SELF AWARE AND THINK TO MYSELF THIS IS SO FUCKING WEIRD... THIS IS WHY I DONT PLAY OTOME GAMES DUDE#like no hate to otome games its just way too much for me i get way too embarassed abt playing them its def a me thing#ok first of all the combat is p ok actually it reminds me of pgr and hi3 altho i like pgr better :] (lee my beloved)#i did burst out laughing when i found out abt it cause i thought it would be like mysme and its just visual novel shit but its really okay#also i did a bit of thinking as to why i dont find the charas super appealing & its cause theyre obv manifactured to b 'the perfect guy'#like you know how pugs were bred to be cute but end up deformed and stuff? yea kinda like that#im not saying theyre deformed but thats the vibes im getting#deformed pug vibes#the jp vas are pulling thru though#ALSO I AM SO FUCKING TIRED OF GACHA pleaseee i alr play hsr + gi + /occasionally/ pgr and stopppp i hate the gamba aspect of the games#AND IM NOT JUST SAYING THAT BC I DIDNT GET THE CARD I WANT#.................. OKAY SO MAYBE I DIDNT GET WHAT I WANT THE POINT STILL STANDS#i like them (reluctantly) all so far ? idk no one is rlly my fav yet tbf im still at ch. 2 so..#theyre all cute ig zayne is nice maybe i dunno i like his shoulders......? hes very cold tho cause haha ice powers#i call him elsa in my head#xaiver is also nice? hes cute? hes sleepy n shit#rafayel is kinda goofy? aloof? but in the 'she's so crazzzzzzzzzy! i love her!' way (look it up if u dont know) and im not super into that#hes the one whimpering though so it is what it is#overall i think ill keep playing until i get the card i want ill also prolly play it on my laptop instead cause its super laggy on my phone#idk how ill deal with the combat part tho but thats a problem for future me lolol#okay yea idk if anyone is still reading this but i dont want my irls to know that im playing this game so here we r#idk why im using the tags to ramble its way more fun like its more casual i think#OKAY YEA BYE#frambling...?
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poyitjdr · 5 months ago
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every breath you take is a victory
every time you buckle up in the car, or eat a good meal, or smile at the sun, or talk to your loved ones, or laugh
those are victories
those are all things that help you feel better and the fact that you do those things proves that some part of you knows that *you are worth taking care of* and that you deserve happiness
even in times where you fail to do those things, you still breathe. you’re still *alive*. you’re here because you haven’t given up yet. just because you’ve failed before doesn’t mean you’re a failure. it doesn’t mean you’ll never succeed.
you will always be worth taking care of
you will always be deserving of love
so just breathe
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thebibliosphere · 6 months ago
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In the never-ending quest to alleviate my migraines, I bought a special angled pillow that lets you sleep on your side while your arm just kind of hangs through a whole in the middle. I did this because I’m a left-sided sleeper, always have been.
Until my neck subluxated and now I can’t sleep on that side without compressing some vital nerves and blood arteries. I also can’t sleep on my back right now because the pressure compresses my occipital nerve. Basically sleeping has been a nightmare recently, but that’s not the point of this post.
The point was I brought this up in physical therapy to talk about how great this pillow is because I can now sleep on my right side without the stupid thing going numb or waking me up because it hurts. And my PT was like wow, great! How did you sleep on your left side for so long without it being an issue?
And I said, oh that’s easy. I just tuck that shoulder out of the way.
And she said, ...what?
And I said, yeah, I just tuck it out the way. Not like my right shoulder. That one doesn’t move as well. It just hurts, I think there’s something wrong with it.
And my physical therapist asked me to demonstrate what I mean when I say I ‘tuck my shoulder out of the way,’ and haha, you’re never going to believe this, turns out I’ve just been casually pulling my left shoulder out of the socket for, oh, let’s see, 30 years? And then napping on it like hmmnm yess comfy.
Anyway. I looked up from my demonstration and my physical therapist was making this face:
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 1 month ago
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Good enough
Tags: Caleb x fem!Reader, smut, unprotected angry sex, Caleb’s back and he’s jealous, breeding kink, mdni, not proofread sorry, this shit is NASTY i fear.
An: This one is for a dear friend of mine 🙂‍↕️ Thanks for making me pull out of my writer’s block. LOOK i’m so sorry if this is bad but i had to write SOMETHING to pull me out of this funk… i hope you all enjoy
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How did you end up trapped underneath your half-cyborg best friend who was legally deceased while taking the meanest deep strokes of your life? Well, there’s a simple answer. Caleb knew Xavier was home.
Actually, he knew everything: the dates, the tender moments, the secret times, the nightly rendezvous. Pissed was an understatement.
Had you forgotten? Had you forgotten all the promises you two made each other when you were younger? Had you forgotten that you were fucking made for him? You had to have. That’s why you were stringing along 4 different guys. You were trying to fill a hole that only he could fill.
That had to be why.
Regardless, Caleb knew Xavier was the type to listen to you through the floorboards of his upstairs apartment. He was a lot alike Caleb in that sort of manner. They were both possessive freaks who couldn’t stand the thought of you being with somebody else.
That’s why Caleb was fucking you so hard — pounding your pretty pussy so deeply into the mattress that you were seeing stars with each mean thrust.
He used his size to his advantage. It was fitting. He’d always loved how much bigger he was than you. That’s how you received your adorned nickname: pipsqueak.
He planned on his first time with you being a lot more gentle than this. He planned on being sweet and loving. He planned on cherishing your body the way you deserve, but you just had to go and give yourself to 4 other guys before him.
“Stop crying.” His voice rumbled as his piercing gaze found yours — so much different than the sweet childhood friend you had. His hand covered your mouth as he hunched over your figure, still ramming his cock head into you ruthlessly. “I know you can take it. I’ve watched you take it before.”
Your eyes blinked back tears as you looked up at him. He was being so mean. You couldn’t believe this was the same doting Caleb that you grew up with, and you didn’t even want to think about the face he had been watching you…
“Fucking pussy’s made for me, and you’ve been letting other men try to make her feel good.” He growled as he used his less-than-human arm reach down and gently rub against your small button of nerves.
“Caleb-!” You choked out as your body writhed beneath him. You could feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock splitting you apart, making you wholly his and his alone.
“That’s right… Say my name, baby. Tell me who’s making you feel so good.” He prompted with a confident smirk before he hauled your legs up above his shoulders, sinking even deeper into your dripping cunt.
Clawing at the bed, your back arched as you tried to cope with the intrusion. He’s so fucking deep it feels like you’re going to choke on him. “Caleb-“ You sob as your cunt pitifully clenches around him.
Feeling you wrapped around him so sweetly, crying out his name as you’re so overwhelmed with pleasure has Caleb revitalized with a new vigor. His hips work in tight circles, pumping his fat cock in and out of you as your cunt makes the most obscene squelching noises he’s ever heard.
“Such a fucking noisy girl. I should’ve know you were going to be a crybaby.” He teased before placing open mouth kisses along your neck snd shoulder.
“W-wait Caleb- calebcalebcaleb. I’m gonna..” You pant out nervously as his metal fingers were still rubbing languid circled around your cunt, and his tip was smooshing globs of precum against your cervix.
His fingers suddenly pinch down on your clit, making you cry out from the sensation. Your body went taut as you were being dangled on the edge of pleasure. His robotic arm wasn’t quite letting you get there.
You thought his arm was literally malfunctioning until you heard him chuckle from your suffering.
“You’re going to cum when I saw you can, okay baby?” He asked in that same condescending tone he always used when you two were younger.
His hips continued to roll after he was sure that you weren’t going to fall off the deep end, and he let out deep guttural groans, feeling your pretty pussy soak him. It was like you were practically trying to suck him in. He couldn’t believe he had waited this long to sink into your cunt like this.
and the best part about it was he knew your stupid upstairs neighbor was listening! Xavier knew you were down here getting railed, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
Hell, if he even tried, Caleb would use his evol and force him kneel beside the bed as he drilled you even harder.
Fuck, the thought of slutting you out in front of every single one of your little boyfriends had his stomach tightening. His hips snapped forward into you with a pace that could only be described as feral.
You were a complete babbling mess at this point — utterly cock drunk as Caleb had you folded in half, filling you up to the brim with his length.
“Ohhh, that’s my girl.” He purred as he saw your glossed over look. “It’s coming, baby. I’m going to give you want you need.” He promised as he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead that completely contradicted the ruthless way his hips were rutting into you.
“C-caleb- Caleb no, wait.. Don’t cum inside-“ You stuttered out in a panic. You hadn’t been by the pharmacy yet to pick up birth control, so technically, this was all unprotected.
“Why?” He growled as his back curled over. He was fucking mounting you while holding your thighs in the prettiest mating press he’d ever seen. “You fucking let them fill you up. Am I not good enough to breed this pussy?”
His hips slammed into you. It felt like he was trying to push his way straight into your womb. It was mind-numbing pleasure, making black orbs and stars dance across your vision.
“Look at me, baby.” He ordered, dragging your face to look back up at him. You could barely see straight. It was all too much. “You’re going to let your best friend breed you, and you’re gonna fucking love it. You’re going to cum all over this fat cock until you can’t breathe. Understand?”
You dumbly nodded your head, halfway hearing his words. Your pussy was aching to cum. Your swollen puffy folds were greedily accepting him in with every thrust. You wanted this. Birth control be damned. Everyone else be damned.
Caleb gritted his teeth together as he gave you a few more good harsh thrusts for good measure. He then crushed his body against yours, burying himself all the way to your womb before his cock started to jerk and pulse inside of you, shooting rope after rope of his thick potent cum. The only thing on his mind was the need to see you, his childhood best friend, round with his baby.
He needed to see the look on each other of those pricks’ faces when they realized you were spoken for.
The cherry on top was when he felt your walls clenching around him, happily milking his cock for everything he had while you sobbed and hiccuped his name. It seemed like his childhood best friend was maybe just as twisted as he was. He’d have to give her an extra good reward for being such a good girl.
As the room went still and quiet — only filled with shared breaths and pants for air, the sound of someone stabbing a sword through the ceiling was heard, and Caleb chuckled deeply. He had definitely pissed Xavier off.
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gojosprettyprincess · 17 days ago
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Thinking about sitting on older bf Nanami’s lap and cock warming him while he helps you with your homework. His reading glasses are structurally perched on the bridge of his nose, framing his focused gaze while he’s attentively leaning over your shoulder to read the big paragraphs on your laptop that's based on the questions that you yet have to answer.
He consistently reminds you that he can't keep continuing to do all your homework for you but at the end of the day, he always ends up completing most of it. And it only makes your pussy even leakier and wet around his stuffy length because of how intelligent and well-disciplined Kento is. Even if his cock is furiously twitching in your warm cunt and silently begging to be milked dry, directly into your little womb. He’s still so serious and concentrated and it did nothing but fuel your arousal.
A thick glob of cum is gradually sliding out the ends of your stretched cunt, messily coating his golden blonde huffs of pubic hair that’s encircling his veiny base and he can feel how fucking soaked and messy you are on his lap but doesn’t say anything about it and completely ignores it.
Even with how much you're squirming on top of him, practically grinding yourself like some cock starving slut on his fat cock at this point— undoubtedly struggling to concentrate on the assignment because of the subtle scent of his expensive cologne that’s lingering on his blue button-up shirt, it’s filling your nostrils and driving you out of your mind because of how manly and sexy he smells.
He coolly ignores your complaints and pleas as you grow increasingly restless and eager, begging him to start moving because of how fucking impatient and horny you are. But he makes it very clear that he won't do anything to you unless you finish the rest, independently. By yourself.
And that’s Kento Nanami’s successful tactic on “how to get your girlfriend to finish her homework within 15 minutes”.
Because soon after you’re done he’s rewarding you and bending you over the desk, smothering you against the smooth wood, and crushing your body with his larger, muscular frame while having one thick, veiny hand clasped tightly around your neck to keep you still as he leans into you and deeply breaths and inhales in the valley of your delicate neck— engulfing your sweet scent and praising you through rich, ragged breaths about how he's sooo proud of you for finishing it up on your own and how much of a good girl you are, even if some of his words might come off a bit mean…
Telling you “You did so well sweetheart. Can’t believe I have a dirty cock hungry slut for a girlfriend. Is this what I need to do to get you to finish your schoolwork from now on? Hm? By promising to award this greedy fucking cunt with my cock?” while his angry mushroom tip is making love to your g-spot and he’s mumbling a whole bunch of shit about how he’s going to reward you with his thick, gooey cum and stuffing the tight space in your cunny with his sperm till it’s all full and dripping.
And when he cums, he pushes himself flushed deep into your backside, ensuring that every drop of his creamy release that he empties from his aching balls is pushed as far inside of you as possible before he slowly pulls out and then lifts you up, bridal style to take you to the bathroom so he can run a bubble bath for the two of you. :3
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soapcloth · 11 days ago
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CW: 18+ MDNI, loan shark!price x reader part 1, fem!reader, afab!reader, noncon elements, manipulative price, implied violence (not reader), petting, almost(?) fingering - 3K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune massive thank you to @pricetagged for keeping me sane writing this
“Mr. Price-” you spoke up, fingers massaging into your temples. 
“Said you can call me John, Sweetheart.” the man interjected with a serious look. 
He was currently hanging your entire life over your head and he knew it, you most certainly were not going to call him by his first name. Noticing your reluctance, he shrugged and leaned back into your dining room chair.
“Look, I’ve been as kind as a man like me ought to be. Don’t know how much longer I can shoulder the loss, and I don't know how much longer you-” He sent a condescending look of concern your way, a hand fishing into his pocket. “-can take the fees. I’m playing the good guy here, y’gotta pay up, lovie.” 
“No smoking inside.” you warned, voice less confident than you would have liked it to be.
His hand paused in his coat before slipping out and up in a sign of surrender.
There was a buzzing silence between the two of you, only interrupted by the occasional tick of your kitchen clock. It was hard to meet his gaze, eyes rooted downwards towards your table under the weight of your rising debt to one of the most notorious men in the city.
“Right then.” he huffed, palms coming down to rest on the table before twitching upwards. “So?” 
“Give me another month to pull something together.” you spoke, wincing when you caught the way his eyebrows quirked in surprise. “-Please?”
There was no telling a man like John Price what would be happening. He was the shot caller, the unequivocal card dealer, it was only by some higher grace that he let your ill manners slip. 
He grumbled for a moment before looking up. “I respect what you’ve got going on in the shop, I do. Lovely place, good atmosphere—we’re both the entrepreneurial type, so to say I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for you-” the thought that he’d lump your small shop in with his exploitative business made your stomach turn. “-but this is a bit much, yeah? Let’s give it up, sweetheart.” 
Your face twisted into a sharp grimace, but that was all you could do—what right did you have to tell the man whose money you were living off of to get out of your house? Even worse, you hated that he had a point; you were so tired of your lackluster sales and mounting bills, but-
“I’m not the only owner, I-I can’t just make decisions like that.” you reasoned.
He looked incredibly unimpressed, nostrils flaring with a dissatisfied huff. “Right, your business partner.” 
“H-he-”
“If it’s what you want, m’sure he’ll understand,” Mr. Price hummed, eyes narrowing. “I think you’ll find my men and I can be quite persuasive.” 
Registering your cautious demeanor, his lips curled upwards.
“Where is the bloke anyway?” John asked in faux-disinterest, disapproval blooming from his tone. “Always sends you to talk to the big mean lender. S’not right.” 
He shook his head and sighed.
“-Seen this play out before, love. He’s throwing you under the bus.” 
Your mouth shut, hard set into a frown—you knew he was right. Your business partner was most likely enjoying his morning in peace knowing it was your apartment above the building—your life about to be uprooted if it all went tits-up. It was hard not to feel played.
Mr. Price’s gaze glimmered in recognition, and slowly, like a languid predator, he was leaning across the table with a large hand over your own. 
You studied the sparse dusting of translucent hair on his fingers, the trimmed nails at the ends of his stocky fingers, his nice, expensive-looking watch—anything not to meet his eyes. 
“S’not worth it,” he urged softly. “spreading yourself thin like this.” he paused to think. “My advice? Liquidate, I'm sure you and I can work something out in the long term.”
You swallowed, throat feeling impossibly dry as you focused on the twitch of his thumb.
“I’ll think about it.” 
“I don’t want to be the bad guy, but business is business, sweetheart—I’m offering you a hand, it’s in your best interest to take it.” he spoke, palm patting over your digits before withdrawing into his pocket. There was a deep breath drawn in through his lips. “Right, I’ll be off then—Unless you want me over for lunch?” 
He chuckled deeply in solus as he stood, reminding you of a proud and awful beast. “Maybe another time then, love.” 
Ideally not.
-
The shop had closed on another unnoteworthy day, only serving to further hammer in Mr. Price’s point. With defeated footfall on the stairs up to your flat, you nearly slipped, shocked by a fist beating on the front door frantically. You slowly turned around, heart pounding from the sound.
“-Christ! Let me in!” Ewan, your business partner cried out from the other side of the threshold.
You hurried to the door; pushed aside as soon as the lock had released.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” you scolded over the shop door’s welcome chime. You were met without response while the man darted for the till. “What are you-”
“Not now,” he growled. “we need to get out of here.” 
Studying him closer, you realized one of his arms had been held up by a makeshift sling, tucked neatly beneath his quilted coat.
“W-what are you talking about?”
He paused, looking up. 
Your eyes widened when the light from the street outside washed over his face. 
“What happened to you?” 
“Doesn’t matter.” he snarled, freshly dried blood crusting at the movement. His head dipped down as he popped open the till. “Price and his dogs want our heads.” 
“I just spoke to him this morning-” 
“Things change—may have pushed our luck a little too far. We’ve got to get out of town.” 
You frowned “I-I can’t just-” 
“Suit yourself.” he snapped, voice dropping to a mumble while his fingers grabbed at whatever they could, stuffing it into his coat pocket haphazardly. “-Sitting duck.”
“Wait—that's our money.” you balked, watching the empty register drawer shut. He offered you a bloody, tight-lipped smile as he sped past you towards the door; in and out like a typhoon.
“Good luck.”
You were stuck where you stood when the door swung shut, absolutely beside yourself in shock as you watched his figure disappear from view into the night. Looking around your shop, it was just as it had been when you closed up, but the knowledge that you were sitting on an empty till, all alone with the looming threat of a less-than-savory money lender finding out you were back to square one for your upcoming payment was not kind as it crashed into you. 
After a sobering moment, you hobbled over to the point of sales, turning the drawer’s lock tentatively. Of course, the tray was as empty as the day you had bought it, save for a spare coin roll shoved into the side. You stared down at the dark plastic, hand clumsily digging into your pocket for your phone. Swiping at the device, you paused, debating for a moment over whether or not to open the banking app; you already knew what you’d see if you did.
Confirming your fears, the log showed a hefty transaction at the branch earlier that day. The account had been emptied right before the banks closed. 
You had nothing to give John Price.
It was all gone.
You stared at your feet while it sunk in. Slowly, you regained the ability to move, making your way over to the shop door and locking it back up before spinning on your heels. The trip upstairs was eerily silent as you slipped into your flat, legs wobbling as you ambled into your washroom and stepped under the hot stream from your showerhead. You let the water run over you for far longer than necessary, only stepping out onto the frigid tile once your fingers had pruned. 
The dinner prep that followed had gone surprisingly smooth, serving as a vessel to pretend the foundation of your life wasn't crumbling away. You replayed comforting thoughts, words passing through your mind like a liferaft just out of reach– you knew Mr. Price, he always spoke gently to you, he would understand, he-
A fat tear fell onto the hand that braced you over the stove, watching the bubbling pasta through bleary eyes. With a shaking grip, you drained the water and slipped the noodles into your saucepan, stirring and sniffling lamely.
You made too much—you had nothing to give and you had made too much. Typical.
Sitting at your table, you ate in near-silence, listening to your clock’s soft ticking as you tried to ignore the afterburn image of Mr. Price across from you where he had sat that morning.
Your fork paused mid-air when the downstairs shop chime rang out. 
Had Ewan come to his senses? 
You closed your eyes and waited for him to call up to you. 
The stark sound of heavy footfall bustling around the lower level was the first thing to alert you to the intrusion—too much noise for one man. Setting down your fork, you stared owlishly at the door to your flat as if it was the last line of defense between you and whatever was happening down there. Through the muffled commotion, you could faintly make out the creak of your stairs getting louder—closer, you watched helplessly as the knob slowly turned.
The door opened a fraction, a thick hand curling around the side to brace it against the three thunderous knocks that echoed throughout the room.
“Come in.” you spoke up once your heartbeat had evened out, blinking as Mr. Price emerged from the dark stairway.
“Mmh, you’re here.” he stared down at you, a pleased rumble rolling around in his chest. “‘Course you didn’t skip town, smart. Good girl.”
He kicked his boots off and drifted through your kitchen; cabinets and drawers clattering behind you while he whistled breathily, dishing up some pasta as if you had made it for him—you do suppose he had every right to, though. 
Your whole body tensed as a palm ghosted across your back. The plate was set down, and the chair beside you was tugged out from beneath the table. 
Your eyes darted to his dish where it sat, steam trailing fragrantly. Mr. Price tucked in, humming lowly despite his tense demeanor. 
“S’good, Love. eat up.” 
You swallowed the lump in your throat and grabbed your fork, gaze falling back to your dish as you picked at the food, appetite long gone. Once again, it was you, Mr. Price, and the sounds of your kitchen—an unwelcome sense of Deja Vu creeping in. 
“Your money’s gone.” you whispered, unable to stand the silence.
He reached towards you, grabbing your napkin, and patting his mouth. “I know.” he scratched at his beard idly. “My boys are dealing with that.” 
You paled, trying not to think about what would happen to your business partner as you watched Mr.Price fuss with his fork, leaning in to take another large bite; a nauseated feeling washing over you. 
“What's going to happen to me?” you murmured, eyes downcast. 
His fork clattered quietly against his plate as his hand came to rest on the back of your neck, thumb petting at your nape. “That’s what I'm here to sort out, sweetheart.” 
Sort out. It was ugly, spoken as if you were just one of his assets. You nodded; compliance met with a soft, affirming squeeze. 
“We can work something out.” his hand traveled downwards, grazing your arm before landing on the meat of your thigh. “I don’t have to be the bad guy.” 
“Mr. Price..” you spoke after a sharp breath, tears threatening to well up. 
You missed the way his eyes crinkled at your weepy tone, thumb brushing your thigh in comfort. 
“I’ve had my eye on you, love—Would have never lent you as much as I did if I wasn't sweet on you. Thought maybe I’d be able to charm my way into your life but it seems like I only see you when you’re late on a payment.” he laughed hoarsely. A knee knocked into yours as he stood; his chair scraping beneath him. The floor creaked under bulk, two large hands coming to rub at your arms with hot breath and trimmed beard tickling at your ear. “-I’m a hopeless romantic, y’see.” 
“Price!” a voice hollered up, causing the man to straighten with a low growl. 
“What?” he barked, voice aimed downstairs.
“Trucks loaded up, gonna head back to the office, yeah? See if Simon needs any help retrieving the cash.” 
His hands flexed around your shoulders. “Good, lock up behind yourself. I’ll be a bit.”
You froze, looking up to see the looming shadow of a man; profile distinct in the low light. He turned to you, offering a tight grin while a wayward hand trailed from your arm to your neck, caressing the skin as he exhaled deeply behind you, resting your head against his abdomen. 
“It’s okay to give in, love.” he cooed. “Let me take care of it all.” 
You had nearly folded when that little prey animal in your brain stiffened, hackles raising. You stood carefully, sidestepping his grasp.
“No, I-I… I couldn’t impose… It’s alright.” you silently begged for him to understand your polite refusal.
“S’not imposing,” he challenged, glaring down at you. “imposing would be the number of zeroes on the sum you owe me—now you care about my burden?”
“That’s-”
“That’s not how this works, sweetheart.” he laughed. “Now, sit back down.”
You complied, lowering back into the seat shamefully.
“Good.” he exhaled, crouching beside you with hands knotted together. “I always collect what’s owed, that’s one thing you need to understand.” 
You nodded.
“-But I’m not opposed to shouldering burdens where personal interest is involved.” His eyes searched your own desperately, palms unfurling to rest back on your legs. “You understand what I'm saying, yeah? You’ll never pay it off alone, let me help. I could take care of you.”
Overwhelmed, you turned away; the grip on your thighs tightening in response as he braced himself, standing up. A warm hand cradled your cheek as he drew your gaze upwards, free hand looping around your back and lifting you to stand against him like a marionette. 
“I don’t know what to do…” you sniffled as his big palm had begun to rub circles into your back. 
He shushed you. “-It’s okay, love. I can handle it, It’ll be okay.”
You nodded, turning and rubbing your face into his shirt as he comforted you. The entire situation was a disorienting experience. Had you done something so wrong to get here?– had it been a crime to want to live a gentle and quiet life in your shop? 
It was hard to care much for your sense of conviction when the root of your problem looked more like a finely woven cradle; what did it matter if you were to bend the knee to your devil’s appeal at this point? 
Still, it felt as if you were teetering on the edge of a cliff.
“I’m scared.” your lips settled for, hiccuping the words into his chest. 
He hummed thoughtfully, the noise buzzing around the walls of your head as his thick arms hooked around your neck, pulling you in deeper—a trap set without any fuss. 
“It’s okay for you to be scared,” he pressed a kiss to your crown. “There’s no way anyone was getting out of those rates you agreed to, love. Let me help you.”
You stiffened, head raising slowly to look at him. He smiled down at you.
“You definitely won’t be taking care of our finances, yeah?” John joked, letting out a deep, phlegmy laugh before he pecked your nose, pulling you back into his chest and rumbling against your head. “Enough nonsense. You’re tired, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
It was all so domestic—like he hadn’t just shown you his rows of jagged, shark-like teeth. 
His grip relented as he patted your bum. “Go on and get into bed, let me clean up dinner.”
-
So you did, brushing your teeth and feeling incredibly confused as to why you were readily complying. What truly got to you was how tender it felt—had you been so oblivious to his vying interest? You had just assumed he was a rare good-natured lender; though, you suppose neither of these had been true.
John Price was not a good man; although it was a recent revelation in the grand scheme of things, you knew this as a fact now. The other fact of the matter was that it seemed you were most likely the real collateral in the vulturine deal. Had he been playing the long game?
You could hear John floating around in the other room as you pulled an old shirt over your head to sleep in—the kitchen faucet running as you slipped into your bed. It all felt so wrong. 
Your eyes shot open when the bedroom’s aged floor creaked, deer-like paralysis keeping you snapshot-still as the ring of his belt buckle filled the static air. Was he—The rickety bed dipped behind you under John’s added weight, bedframe crying out with every shift of his body that came with tucking himself against you; achy grunts blowing out from his lips.
“Not as limber as I used to be.” he laughed modestly. “Still gets the job done though, I reckon.” 
He breathed for a moment before his nose dipped into the hair at your nape, sniffling around. 
“-Better than I imagined.” he grumbled contently.
Thick hands dipped under your shirt, massaging at the skin momentarily before slipping into your panties, tugging them out of the way. 
“Mr. Price.” you winced, feeling his cold hand on the sensitive skin.
his hands paused as the large man thought for a moment.
“Mrs. Price…” he chuckled after a beat, the hairs on your neck standing up in response. “-See? You don’t like it much, either. Now, what’s my name, love?”
“John.” you mumbled quietly, eyes darting around through the dark of your room.
“Mmh. good girl.” he hummed, hand cupping your cunt and thumbing at it absentmindedly. “Sleep, love. Big day tomorrow, yeah?” 
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rafesangelita · 3 months ago
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♡ ࣪when a movie night with your best friend ends with you and rafe naked underneath your blankets..
warnings: bsf!rafe, fluff, cuddling, sexual tension, reader is a little bold in this one, heavy petting, tit play, dirty talk, degradation, oral (m. & f. receiving), face sitting, face fucking, hair pulling, choking, biting, finger sucking, size kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, multiple orgasms
a/n: movie night dates are my fav <3
wc: 2.3k
“they have the whole twilight series on here..” rafe looked away from your tv, and at your bare legs as you stepped out of your bathroom, a pair of sleep shorts and one of his t-shirts adorning your body. “oooh, put it on!” you joined rafe under the covers, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. anyone from the outside would’ve looked at you and rafe and thought you two were a little too close to be best friends, and while they might be right, you and rafe loved being close like this.
“i’m surprised you’re wearing a sweatshirt,” you tugged at the soft material, “i like it.” rafe looked down at you, the corner of his lips quirking. “yeah?” he pulled you closer, his large palm splaying across your lower back. you hummed breathing in his cologne. he was so warm and just so big, you couldn’t help but snuggle into him more. the movie started playing, the soundtrack playing softly in the background as you two fell into a comfortable silence.
“these are the movies you watch strictly for the vibes, because the acting is terrible.” you gasped at rafe’s words, unintentionally moving against his front side. he cursed under his breath, backing away slightly so you couldn’t feel his hardening cock through his sweatpants. “it’s not that bad.” you giggled, backing up on him which only made rafe shut his eyes. he was trying his hardest to keep his cool right now, but with the way your shorts rode up past the curves of your ass, it was nearly impossible.
rafe was growing fidgety, his movements not going unnoticed by you. “are you okay?” you turned around, his cheeks flushed pink as a thin sheen of sweat coated his skin. “yeah— yes, i’m just uhm.. i’m burning up in this sweatshirt.” you took your bottom lip between your teeth, your fingers dancing along the hem of his shirt. “so take it off.” rafe swallowed thickly, feeling your nails graze just above his v-line. “what?” he laughed nervously, waiting for you to say you were kidding. “..take it off.” you repeated, watching the way rafe’s chest rose up and down with every breath.
even though you two constantly teetered the edge of what friends did and didn’t do, rafe always made sure to never cross the line.. unless you wanted to, of course. “a-are you sure?” rafe was already going through a mental battle, his jaw ticking when you took it upon yourself to pull his sweatshirt over his head. tonguing his cheek, you and rafe shared a glance before you averted your attention back to the tv. “can you hold me?” rafe knew he couldn’t say no to you, nor did he want to.
letting you rest your head on his bicep, he pulled you against his chest, his hand slipping under your, his, t-shirt. it was hard to focus with his hand on your tummy, his hard-on nestled between your cheeks while his breath fanned the back of your neck. you only lasted ten minutes like this, your hips moving on their own accord as rafe trailed his hand further up your torso. he froze when he felt the swells of your breasts against his thumb, a curse leaving his lips as he whispered in your ear.
“you’re fuckin’ killing me right now.” he groaned, taking one of your tits in his hand. you arched into him, reaching behind you to palm him through his pants. resting his head in the curve of your neck, rafe licked a stripe up against your skin, his tongue running over the sensitive spot of your flesh. you moaned, the sound making his cock stir. you’ve wanted rafe like this for so long, you couldn’t believe he was finally touching you the way you’ve wanted for so long.
craning your neck so you could see his face, you continued stroking him through his pants, his lips finding yours before he slipped his freehand under the waistband of your shorts. “no panties either? fuck, you were just begging for this cock weren’t you?” you whimpered a ‘mhmmm’, before you felt his middle and ring fingers dip between your folds. “what the fuck? you’re soaked..” he grazed your clit, your body jolting in pure unadulterated pleasure.
“when did that happen, huh? was it when you took my shirt off?” rafe slid his fingers down to your entrance, gathering the pool of wetness there before gliding his digits back up to your sensitive bundle of nerves, “or was it when you got under the covers and put your ass where i needed you most?” he whispered the last part, admiring the way your eyebrows knitted together in desperation, your lips glossy with his spit.
“please, i need you so bad, ray!” you cried, refraining from whining when he took his hand out of your shorts. bringing his digits up to your lips, you welcomed them in your mouth where rafe watched you suck your sweetness off of them. “you’re such a fuckin’ whore, i didn’t even need to ask you to do that.” he watched with a dark gaze, your tongue swirling around his fingers and sucking them as if it was something else. “you look so pretty when you’re cock hungry..” rafe teased, pulling away from you to take his sweats off.
you got on your knees, crawling to the edge of the bed where rafe stood fully naked. he was so hard, your mouth practically watered when he pulled you closer to him by your chin. “can i please taste you?” you gazed up at him with those watery eyes as he threaded his fingers through your hair. “oh, how sweet of you for asking,” he tugged at the hair on your scalp, his cock just centimeters away from your face, “do whatever you want with it, ‘pretty. it’s yours.”
you gave him that smile that made him fall in love with you all those months ago before licking a stripe up from the underside of his length, lapping up the pre cum that managed to dribble down his cock. rafe was mesmerized as he watched you, your pretty eyes never leaving his as you managed to wrap your lips around his sensitive tip. he was so big compared to you, he worried about how you’d be able to take it all. slowly, you kept lowering yourself until he bottomed out in your throat, the man above you in complete awe.
rafe was turned on beyond belief, the urge to just wrap his fists in your hair and fuck your face until you’re choking on it made him feral. you stilled, swallowing around him until he had to pull you off. “are you fucking with me right now? you want me to cum inside your mouth that bad?” he squeezed your cheeks together, landing a harsh smack to your ass. you yelped, nodding frantically as he pulled his t-shirt off of your body. with your tits now on full display, rafe balled your hair up and lowered you down onto his cock again.
you doubled over, your back arching as he thrusted into your mouth at an unforgiving speed. the sounds coming from between your lips were nothing short of obscene, heavy tears now rolling down your cheeks. rafe couldn’t formulate a single thought, his brain empty as he reveled in the feeling of your throat taking his cock. he fantasized about this for so many nights, wanting nothing more than to have you at his mercy and letting him take you however he wanted. fuck, he just knew you’d let him too. his pretty little best friend finally taking his cock, he could just cum at the thought.
as if rafe was brought back to earth from floating on cloud nine, he groaned when the band in his stomach snapped, his high washing over him in waves of pure ecstasy. his cum shot down your throat, the thick white ropes painting your tongue as his thrusts grew sloppy, his hold on your hair loosening as he let out a string of curses. “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..” rafe lost himself like never before, a hiss leaving his lips as you kept bobbing your head, desperate to take each drop.
“y/n—” he shuddered, pushing you away before you could keep going. overstimulated and out of breath, rafe pulled you up to look at your face. “i’m so sorry, i didn’t think i was going to finish that fast..” he was slightly embarrassed, but even more confused as you shook your head. “it’s okay!” you pecked his lips, batting your eyelashes at him as if he didn’t just cum in your mouth without permission. “where is it?” he cupped your cheeks, your mouth clean of any cum.
“what?” you whispered, equally as confused until rafe’s eyes widened in realization. “did you fuckin’ swallow it?” his thumbs hooked between your lips, opening your mouth to check for himself. he couldn’t put into words how bad he wanted you right now, the simple fact that you took what he gave you so eagerly made him tackle you back down on your sheets, his lips melting against yours in an instant. you welcomed him between your thighs, moaning in his mouth as he took your shorts off.
“sit on my face.” he rolled over, pulling you on top of him. you didn’t have any time to process what was happening before he pulled your thighs down on either sides of his head. rafe wasted no time, his tongue flicking between your folds. you gasped, scrambling to grip his arms as he dragged your hips across his mouth. “you taste amazing, holy fuck.” he circled your clit, sucking the sensitive bud before digging his fingers into your skin.
you cried out, eyes fluttering shut as you clenched around nothing. “f-feels so good, rafe!” the man beneath you moaned, his chest filling with pride as you writhed on top of him. despite his mouth working wonders on your soaked cunt, you felt so empty, wanting nothing more than to feel the delicious stretch of his cock. “need you inside, ray,” you looked down at him, “please fuck me.” grunting at your words, rafe gave you a nod.
standing up on shaky legs, rafe sat up against your headboard before pulling you back down on his lap. “wait— i don’t have any condoms.” rafe was panting, his lips glistening with your slick. “so?” you kissed him, grinding helplessly on his cock. “you’re okay with that? if i don’t use one?” you hummed, trailing kissing across his toned chest. “fuck— okay, baby.” rafe wrapped an arm around your waist, lifting you up as you reached down and lined him up with entrance. making sure you were looking at his face, rafe lowered you slowly, both of you moaning as you sunk down on his length.
you felt so warm and tight wrapped around him like this, both of you shuddering once he filled you to the hilt. “you okay?” his voice was gentle as he spoke to you, his fingers stroking your chin as you nodded. “yes, i just feel so full.” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “listen to me,” rafe started, “you’re not just my best friend after this. me and you? we’re together, alright?” you blinked, a smile gracing your features as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “really?” you felt giddy, your small laugh being cut short when he moved his hips.
“yes, really..” he trailed off, “i need you to know that i love and respect you, because the way i’m gonna fuck you right now? you just might forget.” you were about to question what he meant when he bear hugged you and started thrusting into you from below, your lips parting as a shriek ripped itself from your throat. “oh, fuck!” you rarely cursed, the word throwing rafe for a loop before he smirked to himself. “you cussing now, angel? is the dick that good?” you buried your face in his chest, unintentionally biting down on the flesh as his thighs smacked the bottoms of your ass.
rafe’s force was brutal, his tip kissing your cervix with every movement of his hips. “yes! yes, it’s so good!” you cried, holding onto him for dear life. “i’ve thought about doing this for so long,” he groaned, “just’ wanted you to be mine already.” rafe looked up at you as if you weren’t real, like you’d disappear into thin air if he didn’t hold you tight. he continued like this, leaving open mouth kisses between your neck and shoulder, your head knocking against the headboard.
“shit— sorry.” he laid you down, pinning your knees to your chest before slamming back into you again. nothing could top this, you were sure of it. with rafe pounding into you like there was no tomorrow, and his fingers now rubbing your clit, it wasn’t long before you were sobbing out, both you and rafe kissing each other as your orgasm hit you, quite literally stealing your breath away. rafe came twice, unaware that he could even do that within a fifteen minute time span.
your stomach caved in as you attempted to breathe, your heart beating in your ears as your back arched off of your sheets. “..rafe,” your voice just barely above a whisper before you gasped, the man on top of you cradling your head as he watched you come undone beneath him. you were crying, moaning hysterically as your high came over you, rendering you speechless while rafe marveled at the sight. “too much?” you nodded, rafe pulling out before shushing you with a peck to your lips.
you were still going through the aftershocks of your orgasm when he pulled the blanket over you two, both of you flushed against each other as he eased you down from your high. as if the moment couldn’t get any better with you shyly smiling at each other, the song ‘roslyn’ started playing from the movie, both of you stroking the other’s skin. “are we really together now, or were you just thinking with your other head?” rafe laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist. “no i meant it.” he traced the curve of your lips, admiring you until you fell asleep.
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osachiyo · 17 days ago
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𝐖𝐄𝐓 ‘𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐘 ! ꩜ .ᐟ dr zayne
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⟢ tws: n/sfw content, fem!reader, p*rn w/o plot, 0.6k+ words, fingering, squirting, stress relief, messy, dirty talk, praise, zayne is mentioned to be taller than reader, overstimulation, reader is hinted to be chubby + more .. you must be logged in on twt to see the link!
⟢ note: i saw this video on twt and thought of zayne immediately helppp >< header art by @/rororo_mg on X <3
imagine this with zayne . . .
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You could tell when Zayne didn’t have a good day at work. Especially when he had that one look on his face— glasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose and his hair messy, a frown etching on his lips and broad shoulders sagging as he entered through the front door. You lifted your eyes from the page of your book to your looming boyfriend, “bad day at work?”
Zayne only sighed deeply, shrugging his coat off and slinging it on the coat hanger near the door, “terrible.”
You slowly approached him, wrapping your arms around his neck, going on your tippy toes and pressing your soft lips to Zayne’s ear, “is there any way I can help, doctor?”
You felt a large hand wrap itself around your waist— pulling your body flush to his, something hard and hot poking your inner thigh as Zayne’s other hand lifted your chin up, his minty breath fanning against your lips as he spoke,
“If you insist, my love.”
..and that’s how you ended up in your current position. Legs pushed back and knees nearly touching your ears, pretty lacy panties pushed to the side and the fabric absolutely drenched with your arousal as Zayne’s precise fingers worked themselves in and out of your cunt.
“Stay still,” he grunted, taking his fingers out of your hole and rubbing your puffy clit with fast strokes— making your head loll back onto the pillow. “Nnngh— ‘s too much-!” You mewled, fingers desperately scratching the soft, linen sheets underneath as Zayne continued to torture your poor clit. “Nonsense.. I know you can take it, love,” he muttered under his breath, and you whined because you knew he was right— Zayne knew your body like the back of his hand, and he wasn’t afraid to use that knowledge to his advantage.
It should’ve been unfair how good he was at it job— he knew all the ways to make your pussy gush, and he was doing exactly that. You wailed once he shoved his fingers back into your sticky hole, your plush hips arching off the bed at the overstimulation. But Zayne wasn’t having any of it, he scoffed in annoyance before using his free hand to push down on your soft tummy— securing your body to the mattress as he continued abusing that one rough patch in your velvety walls.
“Fu— fuck, Zayne—!” You threw your head back, kicking your legs but to no avail, he only pressed on your tummy harder, increasing the pressure settling in your lower abdomen. Your cunt gushed out juices with each rough thrust of his hand, successfully soaking his wrist down to his entire bicep. The rolled up sleeves of his button up practically drenched with your delicious slick. Oh and his watch. His expensive watch that probably costed an arm and a leg now soaked with your precious juices— and Zayne couldn’t help but groan at the sight.
It wasn’t long before you came hard around his fingers with a high pitched squeal, pussy juices streaming out and absolutely drenching the man before you. “What a good girl, did s’well for me,” he moaned, slowly pulling his fingers out of your cunt with a lewd ‘pop!’ before sticking them in his mouth and humming in satisfaction at the taste.
You could only watch as your eyes grew droopy and tired, your head plopping back onto the pillow with as you sighed. You closed your eyes, ready to doze off before you heard a soft clinking noise and lifted your gaze in confusion to look at the man in front of you.
Your eyes widened as Zayne’s heavy cock slapped against your soft tummy— the head dripping with precum as he spread your legs even further to get comfortable. You parted your lips to speak before he cut you off, “Zay—” “What? You didn’t think we were done, did you?”
His eyes darkened, gaze dropping to eye his cock resting on your stomach— the tip reaching right over your belly button, fuck he was huge.
“We were only getting started, snowflake.”
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@𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 — ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ/ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀɴʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ.
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paarksunghoon · 2 months ago
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grocery store receipts (sunghoon)
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SUMMARY: your hot neighbor seems to have everything you don’t: charm, confidence, and a sense of direction in life. you’ve managed to keep to yourself in the time you’ve lived across from his apartment but the holiday season brings brings out unresolved feelings, and you find that the best present of all has always been standing right in front of you.
WORD COUNT: 31.5K.
PLAYLIST: I ended up making one for this fic
NOTES: consider this a love letter to sunghoon. this story had three plots before it became what it is right now. I’m not somebody who generally enjoys the holidays but wish I could be, so this is a bit of a diary entry, of sorts. (me to me: it’s really not that serious.)
and thanks to @moonstruck-muses for being the best person I know…I love who I am when I’m with you and I’m so grateful that you ended up tagging along to oomf’s house all those months ago. kinda hilarious that I knew you’d be a jake girl before you did, but I think that sums up the kind of friendship we have. 🩷
WARNINGS: fluff & angst, mentions of poor childhoods and bad parental relationships, a whole lot of Christmas talk, smut in the form of: dry humping, oral (f. receiving), missionary, sunghoon’s kinda obsessed with her chest, multiple orgasms, fingering. unprotected sex, creampie, and typos, probably.
MASTERLIST
****
“Did you bring the sweater?”
Jake holds up a large white paper bag and pulls out the fabric, pushing the decorative detail in your direction. “Boom. You’ll win the ugly sweater competition, no doubt.”
“It’s not a contest.” You take the bag from him and Jake beams at you with that boyish smile he has when he gets excited about something. You feel a bit soft that he’s excited for you. “But thank you for letting me borrow it.” 
Heeseung grabs the sweater and holds it up in front of him. “This…is something else. Why do you have it in the first place?”
“It’s got a disco dance floor with breakdancing gingerbread men,” Jake deadpans. “It’s snowing inside the club. Why wouldn’t I buy it?”
Jay laughs. “He saw it at a thrift store last Christmas and bought it on a whim. I don’t think he’s worn it, so it’s good that you’re taking it off his hands.”
“I still want it back even if I have nowhere to wear it to.” 
You bump Jake’s hip. “You could always wear it to run errands.” 
He makes a face. “I’m not that crazy.” 
Heeseung folds the sweater and puts it back in the bag before handing it off to you for safekeeping when all four of you walk deeper into the bar. It’s cold outside. It’s the kind of weather that has you layered up in a scarf and a large peacoat that shields you from the chilly bite of the air. Summer has long passed and spring isn’t for another few months, and the joy you feel from the temperature dropping echoes within the warm bar you find yourself in. The juxtaposition of snowy air met with a warm furnace feels comforting in all of the right ways.
You offer to get a table and hum in appreciation with Jay and Jake volunteer to split the first round. They know your order on a weekday evening—whiskey sour—because you don’t like to go overboard when you have to wake up early the next morning. Heeseung slides into the booth beside you and nudges your shoulder.
“Are you still interested in the Marketing Lead position? I heard Kang Eunji’s transferring to the Tokyo office and that the company is looking to hire internally.”
“Now how would you know that, Lee Heeseung?” He shrugs with an uptick to the corner of his mouth.
“I have my ways.”
“Did you, by any chance, flirt with our floor’s secretary to get this information?” 
Heeseung’s cheeks reddens. “It’s not my fault that she’s into me, okay?! I’ve turned her down plenty of times because I don’t do workplace relationships, but I’ll make an exception if that means helping my best friend get promoted.”
“Poor girl. She probably thinks you’re stringing her along.” Heeseung rolls his eyes.
“I’m doing nothing of that sort. I just smiled at her, complimented her dress, and asked if the rumors about Eunji leaving were true.” 
“You walk through life getting everything you want handed to you, huh?” Heeseung smiles innocently but the two of you end up sharing a laugh. 
“I’m serious, though. I don’t know how much I can help since everybody in the office knows we’re close. They’ll definitely think I bias you over other candidates.”
“Don’t you?” 
“Well yeah, but let’s consider there are a few other people whose words matter more than mine.” 
“That is awfully nice of you. I’m a little concerned that you might have something up your sleeve but I appreciate you.” 
He laughs. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have a good Christmas.” The boyish smile he wears makes you feel tender but you push against him anyway.
“You’re a little scary when you’re nice to me.” 
“What? I can’t be nice to the girl who spilled hot coffee down my shirt the first time we met?”
You mumble. “I’m clumsy.”
“Are we talking about you being an absolute klutz?” Jay puts your drink in front of you. “If so, do you remember the time we were playing tennis in my backyard and you tripped over grass?”
“Okay, okay! I get it. I have terrible coordination and fine motor skills.” You hide your smile behind the glass and thank them for the drink before Jake speaks up.
“You’ll have to send me a picture of you in the sweater. I want to put it up in my fridge, or something. What’s it for anyway?”
“The company Heeseung and I work at hosts spirit month every holiday season,” you explain. “Every Friday is casual dress day, but starting in the first week of November, there’s a holiday theme and I think it’s fun to dress up.”
“I’m surprised at how many people do it,” Heeseung chimes in.
“I’m sure we can find one day that works for you.”
“I’ll only consider dressing up if you can make it look tasteful.”
“Please just dress up once,” you beg. “You can wait until it gets close to Christmas. Besides, you’d look good in some of the categories.”
“What are the themes?” Jay asks.
“Next week is Winter Wonderland and the week after that is Red Day. I’m pretty sure there’s a Pajama Day somewhere.”
“Well, I might show up to the office in sweats.”
“That’s the spirit!”
“I wish my job did something fun.” Jake pouts behind his beer. “I’m in a lab all day so even if I wore something festive, it’s covered by a white coat.”
Jay laughs. “You act like being able to wear a white coat is a bad thing.”
“It is when you can’t see break dancing gingerbread men.”  
“Have you guys started Christmas shopping?” Heeseung stares at the drink in his hand as if a lightbulb hangs over his head. “All this holiday talk made me realize I haven’t started thinking about what to get my friends and family. I have absolutely no idea what to get you guys.”
“You could get me a free week at your client’s fancy hotel.” Heeseung looks at Jay and deadpans, whereas the younger boy laughs.
“I’d get myself a weekend vacation before I give it to you.” He sighs. “It would be fun if all four of us could go on a vacation away from Seoul, though. No worries, no work, and no responsibilities.”
“The lab’s slowing down and I’ve made a list of people I need to give gifts to.” Jake pulls his phone out and shows everybody the note on his phone, aptly titled ‘CHRISTMAS PRESENTS FOR THE HOMIES.’ You try to see what he’s put beside your name but he pulls his phone away faster than you can read.
Jay looks at you. “I’ll bet you've been prepared since summer.”
“I’m only put together when it comes to the holidays, Jay.”
“Does that mean you have most of your gifts wrapped?” 
You nod proudly. “You know me too well.”
“I want to know what you got me.” 
“Nope, no guessing.”
“I don’t think you can beat last year’s gift for him,” Jake snickers. “Poor Jay almost had a heart attack when you were able to get his guitar signed by Hisashi Tonomura since you worked with him for a campaign.” 
“That was tricky because I didn’t know how to ask for your guitar without tipping you off.”
“I knew you wanting to learn how to play was a bullshit excuse,” Jay says with a laugh. “But looking back at it now, that really was a great gift.” 
Heeseung raises his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Are you getting anything for your cute next door neighbor?” You aren’t tipsy by any means, but the mere mention of the hot guy who lives across the hall from your apartment makes your cheeks feel warm. The guys laugh when you look away from them and you hear their laughter ringing in your ears as you try to maintain your shyness.
“No, Heeseung. It would be weird of me to get a gift for someone I barely know.”
“Maybe you should!” Jake nudges your knee with the tip of his shoe. “You guys could fall in love for all anybody knows.” 
You smile weakly. “I’m too scared to talk to him. He’s so…hot.” 
Jay snorts. “So you tell us.” 
Your neighbor, who you and the guys have dubbed ‘The Stranger,’ moved into your building nearly a year ago. In that time, you haven’t mustered up the courage to say anything to him. You keep it at awkward eye contact when you see him leaving or arriving at the same time and begin daydreaming the minute you lock your door behind you. His dark hair, striking brown eyes, and pouty lips is enough to make him the subject of your waking thoughts. 
Your friends seem to overestimate your confidence and encourage you to talk to The Stranger, but your resolve crumbles every time you make eye contact with him. Surely a man like that belongs only in fairy tale books or those cliché romance novels middle-aged women seem to like so much. He’s always impeccably dressed with fitted clothing and a clean face that never seems to have blemishes. He must be well off because you recognize name brands adorning his chiseled body.
His demeanor intimidates you too. The Stranger always stands with his chin parallel to the floor and walks with his shoulder held back as if invisible books were stacked on top of his head. The way he carries himself makes you think he’s confident and it intimidates you because you’re anything but. The Stranger is always polite, acknowledging you if he happens to see you around your shared hallway, but he remains aloof with barely a glance before disappearing. He is every bit tall, dark, and handsome, and you’re a little too unsure of yourself to ever make the first move. 
Heeseung, your closest friend since you moved to Seoul, always tells you there’s nothing to fear and that rejection isn’t the end of the world. You try to take his advice but Heeseung is the type of person who never has never had to worry about rejection because people are lining up the doors for him. He’s got a charming personality that almost certainly helped secure his promotion at the company you two work. He’s also got enough charisma and good looks to hook women in. Heeseung doesn’t have to lift a finger to get anybody to pay attention to him. Besides, you’d rather live in this yearning stage of your life than face the awkwardness of seeing him after he rejects you. 
(“If he rejects you,” you hear Heeseung’s voice say in the back of your mind.)
It’s the same for Jay and Jake, too. They’re both incredibly handsome and know their way around people, even if they’re a bit shy at times. Jake especially, who has a clear accent in the way he speaks, can easily make friends with anybody at the mere mention of the way he speaks. Jay attracts people left and right because of his chiseled jawline and the fact that he’s musically gifted, and people stay because he’s incredibly compassionate and attentive.
You love your friends because they’re wonderful people who always seem to know how you’re feeling and what you’re thinking before you can tell them. But you’re a little bit envious that the world seems to work out for them without doing too much. You find that your experiences have the opposite outcome and you’ve had your fair share of rejection stories across every aspect of your life. All of your insecurities have been with you from childhood until now, and trying to be the bigger person is becoming harder every single day. It’s probably what keeps you from doing anything but approach the attractive man that lives across from you. The Stranger is simply somebody too beautiful and you aren’t sure if you’re worthy enough to be somebody he can look at. 
“He’s hot and single.” Heeseung puts his hand on his chin. “Doesn’t seem like a problem to me.” 
“We don’t know that he’s single.”
“I wish I knew what he looked like.” Jake pouts at his beer. “Who doesn’t have an Instagram or social media?” 
“You’re one to talk. You barely post on Instagram and every picture you have is outdated. I’m pretty sure the only person who cares enough is Jay.” 
The aforementioned speaks next. “Has he ever brought girls home before?” 
You shrug. “I don’t think so?” 
“There you have it. He’s single, hot, and you should make a move on him! You never know what’ll happen.” 
“Can we drop it?” you ask, starting to feel a bit restless where you sit. “It’ll happen if it’s meant to happen.” Jake sits back and tries to hide his sulk, although you know he only wants the best for you so you try not to feel annoyed. 
“Are any of you going home for the holidays?” Jay asks to break the silence. 
“Probably not,” Heeseung replies. “My family wanted to go somewhere tropical and spending time in the heat doesn’t sound too good to me. I’ll probably see them when they get back and make a weekend out of it.” 
“Same here.” Jake finishes off the rest of his beer. “My brother’s coming from Brisbane and my parents are spending it back home, but we agreed to meet up next year since they visited Seoul a few months back. You?”
“Staying here because my extended family will be here for a week or so. I’ve got some family obligations but they told me to take it easy now that I’m living on my own.” 
“Sounds like you guys will be bothering each other even more now, huh?”
Jay laughs. “Yeah, I guess so. What about you? Are you going back home this year?” 
You look down at your hands. “I don’t know yet. My mom keeps asking if she should expect me to come home but I’ve put off making that decision for a long time. It’s just hard, you know? After dealing with my dad and everything that went down a few years ago…I don’t know if I’m ready to go back.” 
Her voice lingers in the back of your head the more you think about it. You don’t talk to her often and leave phone calls with her around two to three times a week. She sends you Instagram reels she thinks are funny and you do your best to laugh at them too. But the reality is that talking to her about the holidays reminds you of everything you’re running away from. 
It’s been four years since you moved for a fresh start after university. Seoul used to be so big and enticing compared to the small fishing town you hail from. The streets smell like delicious savory and sweet goods instead of the raw stench of live bait and wet creatures. The lights that illuminate the night sky due to the gargantuan billboards make you feel like this city never truly sleeps because the next adventure is at arm’s length. It’s what you’ve craved for so long and now that you have it, going back to your neighborhood is starting to make you feel guilty for achieving one of your dreams and leaving everything behind. 
Your friends seem to know what’s running through your head. You’ve been this way every winter since they met you. Heeseung gently nudges your arm with his elbow to pull you out of your thoughts. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? We’ll be here for you.”
“I know. I just feel guilty for not going back home since I moved. It’s a two hour train ride but I can’t bring myself to buy the ticket. It’s so hard to be in a place that brings you bad memories.”
“We’ll keep you company this Christmas,” Jake promises. “We aren’t going anywhere so there’s no reason for you to be alone.” 
“Thanks, guys. I’m sorry that I brought the mood down.” 
“What else is drinking at bars for if not to lament about the sad shit?” Jake smiles when that pulls a laugh out of you. 
“Yeah, you’re right. But if I’m hungover at work tomorrow, it’s your fault.”
***
Despite a difficult conversation that sparked haunting nostalgic memories to resurface at once, you managed to keep your drinking to a minimum and stopped yourself after a single cocktail. Heeseung dropped you off and promised to be back to carpool to work tomorrow, and the last thing you thought about before sleeping was The Stranger. 
Your under eye bags aren’t as groggy as they are when you’d drink the night away, but they still feel heavy underneath you. Moisturizer and concealer can only do so much to get rid of the dark circles on your face so you make do and send a silent prayer that you’ll look decent for the entire day. Jake’s ugly sweater hangs perfectly against your dresser and you do your best to style around the atrocious design, but it makes you smile to see such a ridiculous piece of clothing on your body. It reminds you that the holidays are beginning and you try to think about all of the festivities in the area instead of the looming doom of going back to your hometown during this time of year. You take a quick picture of yourself and send it in the group chat, thanking Jake for the impeccably horrible sweater. Once your work bag is packed, Heeseung tells you he’s parked outside of your apartment building. 
You step outside and lock your door only to be greeted by The Stranger.
He blinks when he takes note of the dancing gingerbread men and cocks his head trying to make sense of him. The Stranger, on the other hand, is wearing a fitted longsleeve shirt that nearly molds around the muscles of his arm and baggy pants that somehow make him seem taller than you recall. His hands are adorned with silver jewelry and his shoes look like they might be as expensive as your monthly rent. You’re starting to feel the juxtaposition of your outfit compared to his when he looks at you and the design of the fabric feels heavy on your shoulders.
“That is an ugly sweater.” The Stranger widens his eyes and the tips of his ears turn a shade of pink when his words finally register. “I just mean that your sweater is…interesting.” 
You can’t help but laugh. “It’s alright. This sweater is really ugly.” 
“Any particular reason as to why you’re wearing it, then?” 
“Today’s a holiday spirit day at work,” you explain to him. “Every Friday has a different theme and today just so happens to be Ugly Sweater Day.”
“I hope you get a consolation prize because, wow…that truly is an atrocious piece of clothing.”
The two of you start to make your way towards the elevator, and stand in awkward silence as you wait for it to reach your floor. You see him stealing glances at the design and feel your neck warming up, and start to wish you could take it off. The thought of this outfit being The Stranger's first impression of you makes you feel humiliated, but Heeseung is waiting for you outside and Jake didn’t give it to you just for it to hang in your closet. 
The chime alerts you to the doors opening and The Stranger allows you to get in first. You're about to press the button for the lobby when he beats you to it. You settle into an uncomfortable silence, resisting the urge to itch your palms and shift awkwardly to avoid drawing attention to yourself. Everything about him screams opulence, from the way he stands to the way his cologne smells. You aren’t sure that you can name the notes in the scent, but it smells extremely expensive. Even the way he stands makes you feel like you should fix your posture. 
“I’m Sunghoon,” says The Stranger. His deep voice echoes in the elevator and your throat feels dry as you tell him your name. “I’ll remember that for when we inevitably run into each other.” 
The lobby is fairly empty but you can see the hustle and bustle of city life when you look past the glass walls. Heeseung is sitting in his car, scrolling on his phone when Sunghoon opens the door for you and lets you walk out in front of him. You feel him looking at you and turn around one last time. He takes one more look at the sweater and nods. 
“Well, uh, have a good spirit day at work.”
“T-Thanks!” 
You don’t wait for his reaction and turn around to walk towards Heeseung’s car that you noticed has been recently washed. He unlocks the doors when he hears you tugging on the handles and looks at the sweater before bursting out into laughter.
“Jesus, that sweater is so fucking ugly.” 
“Thanks.” 
When you don’t put your seatbelt on, Heeseung turns to see that you’re looking outside of the window. He darts his eyes to see if he can catch a glimpse of your line of sight but comes up empty. You look fresh for this hour of the morning and Heeseung wonders if the smile on your face is because of the upcoming spirit day. 
“What are you looking at?”
You whip your head to your friend, who looks at you quizzically. “You will not believe who I talked to this morning.” 
“Who? Santa?” Heeseung looks at the photo you sent in the group chat earlier. “Nice selfie, by the way. You look like an elf.”
You swat his shoulder. “No, dummy.”
“Then who did you meet?” 
“My neighbor.” Heeseung’s jaw drops and you swat his shoulder again. He winces, but you can’t find it in yourself to care too much and buckle yourself to his passenger seat. “We gotta get to work. Drive and I’ll tell you.”
He grips the wheel and starts the fifteen minute journey. “Did you finally introduce yourself to him?” 
“Not quite. We walked out of our apartments at the same time. He said, and I quote, ‘That is an ugly sweater.’”
“I don’t know whether to be happy or sorry for you.”
“I feel stupid because of all the days I had to run into him, it had to be today.” Heeseung’s seat warmers make it all that more enticing to sulk. You tug at the hem and inspect the design, feeling somewhat regretful that you chose to participate in today’s spirit day. “I told him a little bit about why I’m wearing it and he seemed to think it was funny.” 
“Does he smell good?” You flick Heeseung’s arm, who laughs in the driver’s seat.
“Shut up. But yeah, he really does.” 
“What’s his name?” 
“Sunghoon.” Your mouth curves into a smile. 
“Sunghoon. Nice name. Sounds fancy.” 
“I guess so. He does wear a lot of name brands and high luxury fashion.”
“His name definitely suits him, then.” 
To nobody’s surprise, you have the best ugly sweater throughout the office. More people participated than you and Heeseung had originally guessed and the holiday-themed snacks your division manager provided was enough to boost office morale. The weather outside is getting darker earlier and you even feel a bit restless after sitting in your office for a while. 
Heeseung watches you from behind your frosted doors as he talks to the floor secretary to order files and copies of his projects, and the sight of you in that horrendous sweater with a smile on your face makes him smile too. You’ve looked like that the entire day, from picking you up and throughout lunch, and Heeseung wonders if could ever convince you to make a move on your neighbor since you talk about him so much. He doesn’t know how much longer he can listen to your fantasies while being extremely shy to strike a conversation with him. 
He turns to the group chat he has with Jay and Jake. You’re notably absent from this text thread (as told by the name of the group chat) and they use it to discuss anything deemed ‘guy stuff’ (most infamously when you text “TAKE THIS ELSEWHERE” when they start getting too boyish for your taste).
The Gentlemen’s Club 
heeseung: GUYS. She met her neighbor this morning
heeseung: His name is Sunghoon and he saw her with Jake’s ugly sweater
heeseung: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
jake: IS HE CUTE
heeseung: I think so. She was blushing the entire car ride here and could barely say anything until we parked 
jake: fuck yea. i trust her taste in men because she thinks byeon wooseok and kim jaeyoung are hot. they’re gonna fall in love guys 
jay: If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Jake had one too many cups of coffee  
jake: well yes BUT u know me and you know i think they’ll have a meet cute
heeseung: Technically they already had one. Although I don’t if I’d call it a meet cute since he called your sweater ugly to her face
jake: whatever. you know what I mean. we should find out what he looks like 
jay: And how are we gonna do that?   
jake: idk maybe throw a little get together this weekend
heeseung: That’s a little soon, no? 
jake: next weekend then. 
jake: I can host at my place. tell her to bring whoever she wants. I need an excuse for a housewarming anyway 
jay: You moved in three months ago tho??
jake: it’s time to have one now!!!! I’ll text the group chat with all of us 
Heeseung switches to the group chat with you in it. 
The Family Unit:
jake: housewarming. my place. next saturday. 6pm. bring food 
jay: If you’re throwing the party, why do we need to bring the food
jake: because I am hosting god knows how many people and I cannot afford all of that 
heeseung: We can figure this out later 
you: Jaeyun, didn’t you move in three months ago ???
jay: THAT’S WHAT I SAID.
jake: we can have an official party now!!!!. bring whoever you want as long as they’re cool
you: Say less!!! I’m there. I’ll bring dessert
jake: 🤤
jay: Can I leave this group chat?
It’s painfully boring for the rest of the day as you all tie up loose ends before 6 PM hits, but you power through it and let your assistant go home for the day. With the weekend looming near after sending a few more emails, you swear you can feel the tension exiting your body. Heeseung knocks on your door and steps inside as you send one last message to a client. 
“You should invite Sunghoon.” 
“To what?” you ask him, temporarily clouded by end-of-week work stress.
“To Jake’s housewarming, dude. It’s the perfect excuse to talk to him again.” You sit back in your chair and look at him as he sits in front of you. 
“I don’t think I have the guts to do that.”
“It’s easy. Knock on his door and tell him there’s gonna be free food and drinks next weekend.”
You scoff. “Easy for you to say. You’re like a magnet. People are drawn to you because you have no problem socializing with people you don’t know.”
“You and I are friends, aren’t we? I must be doing something right.”
“Meeting at work four years ago hardly counts as socializing. It was forced proximity.” Heeseung puts his hand over his heart and pretends to cry.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I like being friends with you and you aren’t as awkward as you think you are. I think Sunghoon, or anyone for that matter, would feel that way too. You just need to put yourself out there.”
You slump back in your desk chair. “I know…It’s hard to push myself to get to know someone, though. It’s like there’s an invisible line I can’t seem to cross and it gets worse when I talk to people I find attractive. He’s like, really hot.”
“You talk to me every day and do just fine.” Expertly, he dodges when you throw a pen at him and laughs when you grunt in dissatisfaction. “What are you so scared of?”
“I don’t know. Looking like an idiot, for one. He’s so beautiful and I don’t feel worthy of him.”
“He’s a man, first of all,” Heeseung deadpans, “so he’s already beneath you.”
“Wow, so you do listen to my I-hate-men rants.”
“Yeah, because I care about you and men suck.”
“You and the guys especially when you won’t leave my apartment.” 
“But your apartment is so cozy.” You threaten to throw another pen and smile when he flinches. 
“I’m afraid of making things awkward if he doesn’t want to get to know me like that. We’ve acknowledged that we’re neighbors and all, but what if I ask him to come to Jake’s party, he says no, and thinks I’m a weirdo and a creep for asking him that after one conversation?”
“Then he’s a weirdo for being creeped out. Anyone who gets offended by being invited somewhere is weird. You’re a nice person trying to do a nice thing. There’s nothing wrong with making friends.”
Heeseung is right, like he typically always is, and you ponder on his words. Since the first time you saw Sunghoon, you’ve treated him as some fictitious crush that exists only within your head and muse over the small interactions and indulge yourself when thinking about him. Romance seems far fewer in between and you choose to stick to television shows and books that make your heart flutter instead of going on multiple dates just to find out the two of you aren’t compatible. 
It feels like an endless cycle of hopelessness at times. You’ll watch your friends fall in love and try to empathize with that kind of unfiltered joy that comes with knowing somebody loves you just as much as you love them, but you fall flat when the reality weighs in. You don’t think you’ve ever fallen in love or have felt anything remotely close to falling for someone so deeply that you lose yourself in it. It’s probably a good thing, but the yearning doesn’t seem to end even though you know it’s for the best. 
Pinning all of the qualities you’d want in a boyfriend on the stranger next door seemed like a safe bet because you never thought about the possibility of getting to know him. Sunghoon is someone who is as quiet as a mouse, never making too much noise when he’s in his apartment. He’s a model tenant who always pays his bills on time and never causes a disturbance to the building. Facing the reality that is perceiving him as anything but what your imagination conjured up makes you a little uneasy. You admire from afar but the idea of a hot guy looking in your direction makes you feel somewhat unworthy of their attention. 
“I’ll think about it,” is all you offer. Heeseung seems to be pleased at your answer and doesn’t pry any further. “Are you done with work?”
“Yup. I decided everything else could wait until Monday and sent my assistant home.” 
“Look at us being good managers.”
“We’re everything we said we would ve and then some.” Heeseung grabs your pea coat from the closet and helps you put it on when you round the corner of your desk one sleeve at a time. “Do you remember Song Bitna?”
“How could I ever forget,” you scoff, retrieving your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “She used to make us run laps and get upset that our work wasn’t completed.”
“She made me go on more personal errands than anything work related. It’s a wonder how I managed to get promoted.”
You push the door to your office open and say goodnight to your remaining coworkers. “There’s a reason why we’re here and she isn’t. It’s good to know we aren’t shitty bosses.”
“I hope so. Sometimes I get in my own head and wonder if I’m managing everything correctly. I want my assistant to learn from me, you know?” Heeseung allows you to step into the elevator before walking in after you. 
“Yeah, but you’re good at everything you do. You should have more faith in yourself.” He nudges your shoulder with his own.
“You should take your own advice.” You bite your lip and look down at the floor. “You’ve got a week. Think about it, okay?”
“I will.” 
“I was serious about the promotion as well. I’ll put in a good word but you should consider talking to the division lead.”
Classic Heeseung. He looks out for you in more ways than one. 
***
The weekend flies by too quickly for your liking and you find yourself at your desk on a Wednesday afternoon with a cup of tea sitting between your hands to warm up your palms. The building’s central heater stopped working a few hours into the workday, leaving you and many other office workers disgruntled and cold. You shut all of your windows and paced around your office to keep your blood circulating throughout your body. The morning was fairly productive until the heating went out and you've spent the last hour replying to emails with cold fingers, pushing any and all thoughts of Sunghoon out of your mind. 
You haven’t seen him since last Friday. Sunghoon doesn’t seem to have a routine that he sticks to–one that you can identify, anyway–because you didn’t run into him for the past three days. You waited anxiously by the elevator to see if he would come barreling down the hallway and ask you to hold the door for him, but each day was met with empty silence before stepping into Heeseung’s car. 
True to your word, you spent Saturday trying to convince yourself to ask if he’d be interested in coming with you to Jake’s housewarming party. You’d wane from decision to decision, telling yourself there’s nothing inherently wrong with asking somebody if they want to hang out, but the irrational side of your brain convinced you that it would be weird to open up that kind of dialogue with a stranger. You don’t know anything about him and he doesn’t know the first thing about you. But that’s what getting to know someone consists of, doesn’t it? 
Before you knew it, Sunday came around and it was starting to get dark outside your window. The urge to curl up into your blankets and spend the rest of the evening watching Netflix was too tempting. The more you watched your TV, the more you stared at your front door. It would take a minute, maybe two at the most, to ask Sunghoon if he’d like to come with you to Jake’s. The worst thing he could do is decline your invitation. He seemed nice enough on Friday when he saw you wearing the ugly sweater and you suppose he’d be nice about letting you down gently. But even so, rejection stings. 
Your feet carried you outside of your apartment door to knock on his. You waited with your heartbeat loud in your ears but heard nothing from the other end of the door. When you peeked down at the small gap below you, there weren’t any shadows or anything indicating that Sunghoon was home. Still, you knocked once more for good measure and waited thirty seconds to see if he would open the door. Even though the most logical explanation is that your neighbor wasn’t home, heat crept up your neck and splashed onto your cheeks as you quickly made your way back inside of your apartment. With the twist of the lock behind you, your couch and TV brought some much needed comfort and distraction from feeling embarrassed. 
Heeseung hadn’t asked you about Sunghoon on Monday or Tuesday, but seemed to remember when Jake sent a reminder earlier this morning. He swung by your office as the temperature dipped and you updated him on what transpired over the weekend with a defeated sigh. Ever the optimist, Heeseung told you to try again tonight since you might have a better chance at catching Sunghoon during a weeknight. 
The day goes by slower than you’d like and when Heeseung drops you off at your apartment, you make a dash for your sanctuary and rid yourself of the day’s grime by spending a long time underneath the hot shower. Work is simultaneously ramping up and slowing down as everyone is trying to complete projects before winter recess and you feel all of the tension leave your body once the hot water soothes over your shoulder blades. It’s still relatively early in the evening when your hair is half dry and you’ve just finished eating dinner. The entire time you wash your dirty dishes, your mind can’t help but wander towards Sunghoon and what Heeseung said earlier about trying to ask him again. Surely he’s in his apartment at this hour on a Wednesday evening. 
You decide to bite the bullet. After grabbing the cardigan that rests on the back of your couch, you put it on and decide against changing into your shoes since you’ll be stepping out for just a few minutes. Sunghoon’s door stares back at you as you close your own behind you and this time, you can hear the soft sounds of R&B behind it. 
This makes your heart rate pick up speed because the real possibility that you’ll be face to face with Sunghoon becomes too real for you to handle. You could barely utter complete sentences to him last week. What makes you think you could do it now? The same scenarios of rejection and humiliation ruminate in your mind the longer you stand outside. You contemplate going back inside but the thought of telling Heeseung you chickened out and seeing a potentially disappointed expression on his face makes you knock on Sunghoon’s door. 
Unlike the last time, you hear the sound of slippers shuffling against a hardwood floor. The lights are on from what you can tell underneath the gap of the door and you start to panic when you see a shadowy figure blocking that light. You assume Sunghoon must be looking through the peephole and resist the urge to fix your hair in case it looks horrible. The door opens momentarily.
“Hey. What’s up?” Sunghoon wears a pair of dark green sweatpants and a large graphic t-shirt that makes him look like the stereotypical boy next door. You look up at him and gulp.  
“Sorry to bother you,” you apologize, suddenly feeling a lump growing in the back of your throat. 
“You’re not bothering me,” Sunghoon says it with a smile. He opens the door wider. “Do you want to come inside?” You don’t really want to because you’re afraid you might trip and fall on your way inside, but you take up his offer anyway.
“Sure.” It comes out as a squeak.
His apartment is tidy and well kept with artwork adorning the walls in his living room. It’s more spacious than your own and his furniture makes the room look bigger than it probably is, with couches against the wall and a large TV in front of it. There are photographs hung in silver frames and pictures of people you don’t recognize, along with shelves of knick knacks and other small statues you assume are artwork he’s acquired over time. Sunghoon’s living room gives you the impression that he’s somebody who cares about taking care of himself and his space. He sees that you’re particularly drawn to the photo gallery on his wall and you feel him standing next to you.
“I took most of these pictures.” 
“Are you a photographer?”
“Not professionally, no. Photography is a hobby of mine.” 
“You’re really good.” 
“Thank you.” Sunghoon looks at you before averting his gaze back to the photo wall. “My mom gave me my first camera when I was eleven and I took it with me everywhere I went. Are you a photographer too?” 
You shake your head. “Oh no, I don’t have an artistic eye like you do. But I appreciate good photos when I see them, or so I’d like to think.” Sunghoon smiles at that.
“I’m glad you think my photographs are worthy of praise. This is the first photo I ever took.” He points to an image of a young girl in the center of the photo gallery, whose short arms are reaching for the camera. She wears an infectious smile on her face that reveals a dimple on the side of her cheek. 
“Wow, you were really good even back then. Who is she, if you don’t mind me asking?” 
“That’s my younger sister,” Sunghoon says with a fond smile. “I got this camera on my birthday and she wanted to see it after my dad helped me set it up. I think this might be my favorite photo I’ve ever taken.” 
“It’s a great shot.” You compliment Sunghoon sincerely and turn your head to look at him. He clears his throat. 
“What is it that you came here for?” 
“Oh, right!” Sheepishly balancing on both of your feet, you clasp your hands behind your back and lick your lips. “I, um, well…One of my best friends is hosting a housewarming party at his apartment, and I wanted to know if you’d like to come with me.” 
Sunghoon points at himself. “Me?” You nod. “I didn’t think we were that close.” You try not to let him see how embarrassed you are. 
“Sorry, it’s probably weird that I asked you even though we barely know each other, right?” It seems as though your brain cannot stop you from speaking, a habit you have every time you begin to feel nervous. You start to back away towards his front door. “It’s just that, well, we’ve been neighbors for almost a year and I thought to myself, why not make new friends? My friend told me to invite anybody I wanted to and we have a lot of the same friends, so I knew they’d be there too.” You wince at the sound of your voice. “Anyway, I’m sorry for bothering you and for asking.” 
Sunghoon shakes his head and grabs the doorknob before you can. “You’ve got it all wrong. I’m honored that you invited me, actually. Living by yourself gets kind of lonely at times. It’s nice to go somewhere that isn’t home for a few hours. I’m a bit of an introvert and would like to make more friends.” 
“You don’t seem like an introvert to me,” you blurt out before slapping your palm over your mouth. “I mean, you’re doing just fine with me.”
He smiles at you. “Yeah, I guess I am.” 
“My friend’s a great host and loves meeting new people. You’ll make at least one friend by the time you leave. Even if you don’t, there’s gonna be food there, so you’ll have a free meal out of it.” 
“Should I bring anything?” 
You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it.” 
“I feel like I shouldn’t come there empty handed if it’s a housewarming.” 
“I’m making peppermint brownies,” you tell him. “I’ll say it’s from both of us.” 
Sunghoon seems to be satisfied with your answer. “When’s the party?” 
“This Saturday at six. We could, uh, go together? If you want to, that is.” 
“It makes sense to go together. Do you drive? I can drive us if you don’t.” 
“No, I don’t drive.” Your cheeks feel warm at your admission and you don’t know why your inability to operate a car makes you feel a bit bashful. Sunghoon doesn’t seem to mind, though. 
“Okay, I’ll drive us. Where does your friend live?”
“Not too far. He’s about twenty minutes from us.” 
“I’ll knock on your door around 5:30,” Sunghoon says with a single nod. He reaches around you to open his door for you. 
“Sounds good!” Sunghoon smiles and waves before saying goodnight. You watch him as the door closes and rush back into your apartment with your heart hammering in your chest as you sit on your couch and text Heeseung about everything that just transpired. When he asks if you asked for Sunghoon’s number, you slouch. You didn’t think about that and now you’re too embarrassed to back and ask for it. 
Three days pass by quicker than you anticipated and your plate of peppermint brownies sits covered in tin foil on your kitchen counter as you wait for Sunghoon to knock on your door. You spent the entirety of the day worrying about the sweet treat and giving yourself enough time to get ready. Perhaps it’s a bit worrisome that you spent a good chunk of time standing in front of your closet to pick an outfit for tonight, but you want to make a good first impression on Sunghoon without the ugly sweater or pajamas you wore when you invited him to Jake’s party. 
You settle with flattering jeans and a nice top with an oversized leather jacket and find yourself wondering what kind of lipstick you should put on. It feels silly to worry about these things for a person who likely wouldn’t notice that type of effort, so you settle with something that compliments your skin tone but isn’t too over the top for a casual hang out. It’s just before 5:30 when you hear your doorbell ring and your heart rate perks up at the thought of Sunghoon waiting for you. 
“Hey,” you say to Sunghoon pathetically.. Sunghoon’s wearing a light grey quarter zip sweater with a few buttons hanging loose and black trousers. You avoid gawking at him from the threshold of your doorway, but it’s hard not to. 
“Long time no see,” he jokes. “Are you ready to head to the party?” His questions bring your eyes back to his face and you smile at him awkwardly. 
“Can you hold this for a second?” You hand Sunghoon the bag with Jake’s ugly sweater. “Let me get the brownies.” You barely register that Sunghoon’s holding a bag of his own until you walk back with the dessert, successfully locking your door without dropping your keys. “What's in the bag?” 
Sunghoon looks at you sheepishly. “I went out and bought some wine because I’d feel bad taking credit for your brownies when I didn’t help make them. There’s some soju in there too because I started to overthink and wondered if any of your friends drank wine.” 
You beam at Sunghoon. How thoughtful of him. “Wine and soju are perfect. The guys will probably drink that up before you get the chance to introduce yourself and I’ll happily drink the wine. My friend Jay might, too.” 
“I’m excited to meet your friends,” Sunghoon says as the two of you walk side by side towards the elevator. He presses the button and lets you walk inside the contraption first. “It’s been a while since I got the chance to meet new people.”
“If they make you uncomfortable or anything, let me know and we can leave.” 
Sunghoon laughs. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. If you like them, then so do I.”
“That doesn’t seem very introverted of you.” He smiles at you and shrugs.
“I’m trying to get out of my shell.” Sunghoon lets you step out of the elevator and guides you to his car. “I keep to myself most of the time but I have my moments. It’s easy to get lost in a city as busy as Seoul but sometimes it gets a bit lonely.” 
He unlocks the door and puts the sweater in the backseat, along with the brownie tray on the floor for extra stability. You watch him open the passenger door for you and smile as you climb inside. Even the interior of his car is orderly and pristine. Sunghoon has you typing in Jake’s address before the two of you hit the road. 
Sunghoon drives like an expert, weaving between lanes without causing collisions or disturbance to the traffic. He uses his turn signals, which you appreciate, and doesn’t get too angry when people cut him off unnecessarily. He looks a bit too good from where you’re sitting with his jawline looking sharper than the edge of a knife with the glow from headlights shining across his face. It’s a bit unfair how beautiful Sunghoon looks from where you are and you’re having a hard time believing someone as handsome as him is talking to someone as awkward as you. 
“Are you from Seoul?” you ask him in the midst of the silence. His music hums in the background and pairs well with the smooth sound of his car’s engine. 
“No, I’m not.” Sunghoon spares you a glance. “I’m from a small suburb just outside of Busan.”
“Do you miss it?” His smile falters and you almost regret asking.
“Sometimes, but I think I’ve found my footing here. I love the city life and I like that everything is so different and loud. There are a million ways to live your life and nobody expects you to follow a certain path.” 
“Yeah, I agree with that. I’m from a small fishing town a few hours away from here where everyone comes from a long line of farmers and fisherman. It’s hard to carry that burden and expectation when fishing is the last thing you want to do with your life.” 
“People have a crazy way of making you feel indebted, don’t you think?”
You nod. “Agreed. Sometimes I feel guilty for enjoying my time in Seoul. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do, theoretically. Everyone back home used to tell me about the amount of bills I’d have to pay and how dangerous big cities are, but I’ve found a home here that I never felt back in my neighborhood. It’s like nobody knows who I am and I find comfort in that.” 
“I feel the same way. I can be whoever I want to be without people telling me it’s wrong. I don’t have to live my life by another person’s expectation and there are so many different things I could be doing with myself. How long have you been in Seoul? Have you visited your hometown at all?” 
“I’ve been here for eight years, if we count my university days, but I’ve been living here full time for four years. I went back home for a few months after graduating before getting the job I have now.” You play with your fingers as you speak, the feeling of guilt bubbling to the surface. ��As for going home, well, I’ve been back but it’s hard to find the time with my job.”
“I understand that. I haven’t been home in a while either. I don’t really want to go back either.” You want to ask him why but don’t. 
“Does your younger sister still live there?” 
“She’s still back home and lives with our parents while he’s finishing up university in Busan, actually.” 
“Oh, that’s cool! It’s nice of your parents to let her stay at home while she studies.” Sunghoon smiles in a way you can’t decipher. 
“Yeah, really nice.” 
Sunghoon parks right in front of Jake’s apartment just when you’re starting to regret bringing up his family. You risk looking over at him and an apology sits on your tongue because it seems like a sore subject for him based on the short response, but Sunghoon exits the car and grabs the alcohol and the bag that contains the ugly sweater. You carry the brownies and feel a bit self conscious when you feel him walking behind you. Your shoes feel heavy around your feet and despite having been over to Jake’s apartment more times than you can count on both hands, you second guess every step you take on the way to his front door. 
“Thanks for bringing me here,” Sunghoon tells you after a beat of silence as you approach Jake's front door. You want to say something, but the door opening interferes with your thoughts. 
“Hey, you made it!” Jake ushers the two of you inside and by force of habit, you take off your shoes and out on the designated slippers you purposely left here when he first moved in. “Did you bring the sweater?” 
“The fact that you want to keep that ugly thing concerns me.” Heeseung gives you a hug and grabs the brownies from your hands as you struggle to take your coat off. “I’ll put this in the kitchen.” 
“Sunghoon has the sweater.” When you’re settled, you grab the paper bag and hand it to Jake. The warmth of his apartment feels comforting until you remember that your neighbor is a complete stranger in a new environment. You turn around to see him balancing awkwardly with a bag of alcohol behind his back. “Everyone, this is Sunghoon. Sunghoon, this is…everyone.” 
“Hey,” he says awkwardly, bringing his hand up to wave at your friends who’ve all gathered around to see the newcomer. Heeseung comes back after he’s put the dessert in the kitchen. The bottles in Sunghoon’s hands ring against one another, which makes Jake’s ears perk up. 
“Did you bring something?” 
“Wine and soju. She told me not to bring anything but I didn’t want to show up empty handed.” 
“I told him we could bring brownies together.” Jake makes a face at you and grabs the bag of alcohol from Sunghoon’s hands, pulling him further into the apartment. 
“Thank you, Sunghoon.” He turns back to you. “The thought that you could’ve deprived us of alcohol is insane, actually.” 
You purse your lips and fold your arms in front of your chest. “He could’ve brought everyone ear muffs, for all you know. What are you gonna do with them if your big ass ears can barely handle your headphones?” 
“Ignore them,” Heeseung says to Sunghoon as he approaches the two of you. “They fight like siblings. I’m Heeseung.” 
Sunghoon laughs. “I’m starting to think you guys are either really close or secretly hate each other.” 
“I hate Jake and love everybody else.” Jake bumps your hip and smiles at you, and you find that you can’t keep up that faux attitude for very long. He pulls you into a hug before properly introducing himself to Sunghoon and walks to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine and store the rest in his refrigerator. 
“Do you want a drink or some food? We have a little pot luck going on.”
“I could use a drink.”
Heeseung beckons Sunghoon towards the kitchen while Jay steps beside you, and your neighbor turns back to look at you before disappearing around the corner. “See? It’s not so scary once you take the first step.” 
“Your face was chiseled by God. You of all people don’t have to worry about rejection.”
Jay laughs at that. “Still, though. You’ve been talking about Sunghoon for so long that I was getting worried he might’ve been a figment of your imagination.” 
“I might be delusional, but I’m not crazy.”
“We all have our ways to cope.” You bump your shoulder with his. “You should know we’re all rooting for you and Sunghoon.” 
“Oh my God, it’s not like I pictured myself marrying him!” You whisper-yell loud enough for him to hear through gritted teeth and smack his bicep. “I just think he’s cute. The thought of being rejected by him scares the shit out of me.”
“He’s just a guy?” 
“A beautiful, charming guy.”
“Again, just a guy.” 
It’s his turn to make you laugh. “You always keep me grounded, Jongseong.” 
“Who else will? But anyway, you should also know that Jake decided to host this housewarming party because Heeseung told us you ran into him on your way to work.” 
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or weirded out by that.” 
“It’s Jake we’re talking about. He has his ways of showing it, but he’s a sentimental guy.” 
“I guess I should thank him if tonight goes well.”
“Don’t stress about anything too much.” Jay starts to walk towards the kitchen and beckons for you to follow him. “Let’s get you a drink.”
You spot Sunghoon first, who leans against Jake’s counter while he looks at all of the food your friends brought (Chick-Fil-A catering, because he’s been craving it and Heeseung offered to pay for half of it). There’s an impressive selection of alcohol beside the large platter of breaded chicken, and macaroni and cheese that smells like it’s just been pulled out of the oven. Sunghoon seems entertained enough with Jake fixing him a plate and opening a bottle of beer for him. You stand beside Jay and feel a bit silly worrying over whether or not your guest feels comfortable with your group of friends, but he seems to be doing okay because he isn’t searching for you. 
“How do you guys know each other?” 
“This one spilled coffee on me when we first met.” Heeseung laughs at the memory and the tips of his ears turn a deep shade of red. He’s talkative when he has enough alcohol in his system and the nostalgia makes you curl into yourself as Jay hands you a bottle of beer. Everyone looks at you when Heeseung points in your direction. 
“She’s really fucking clumsy.”
“Thanks for the commentary, Jake,” you say sarcastically. 
“We work together at a marketing agency and started around the same time,” Heeseung explains further. “She just moved to the city and we clicked on our first day.” 
“I met the other two through Heeseung, actually.” Sunghoon looks between Jay and Jake when you gesture, who each seem like they’ve also started drinking before you arrived. 
“We’re friends from college and we all decided to stay around the area after graduating.” Jay pours himself a glass of wine and you can see Sunghoon beginning to perk up when he notices. You find that kind of cute. 
“Heeseung’s the reason we’re all friends.” Jake pats his friend on the back. “It’s funny though because we actually all met her at his housewarming all those years ago too.” 
“Huh,” says Sunghoon. “What a coincidence. Sounds like you guys have a thing for housewarming parties.” 
“I’ll take up any excuse to host. It’s how we get her to come out of her shell.” Your cheeks warm up but you aren’t sure if it’s because of the alcohol or because everyone’s looking at you again. 
“She’s a bit of an introvert, but she’s really fun when you get to know her. Sorta like a diamond in the rough type of thing.” 
“Okay, wow! We don’t have to talk about me.” 
Jake points at a grocery store receipt on his refrigerator and grins. “This is the first time she bought groceries for me when I moved in a few months ago. She’s a bit sentimental and put this on when she came over for the first time. It’s nice, though.” 
“Oh my god,” you mutter. Sunghoon smiles at you and those fairytale-like butterflies in the pit of your stomach feel like they’re flying in a metal cage. 
“I like that you’re sentimental. You’re a little like me. I decided to come to this party because somebody else gave me the choice to be social.” 
“Yeah.” You’re a bit breathless and you’re sure Jay’s grinning beside you. “I get a bit intimidated when I do something different or meet new people.”
“Who doesn’t?” You suppose he’s right. 
“She’s incredible with gifts, too. Last year, she got me a signed guitar by my favorite musician because they worked on a campaign together.” Jay takes out his phone to show Sunghoon a photo of the autographed instrument. 
“So thoughtful,” Sunghoon says absentmindedly. It throws your heart in a loop.
“There is so much more to talk about beyond me,” you say, embarrassed that your friends are doting on you in front of Sunghoon. The attention is a bit too much and you grab another beer on your way out of the kitchen, choosing not to look back at the four boys who all laugh at your exit. 
The entire night goes smoother than you could’ve ever hoped for. Your friends leave the weird, overbearing protectiveness in the kitchen when you walk out of it and talk to Sunghoon like he’s their friend too. It still makes you a bit shy when they actively support you in this crush because you aren’t used to this level of care and trust in people. Affection makes you a bit uncomfortable and you wish it didn’t.
Sunghoon seems like he’s enjoying himself as well. You can tell he’s a little buzzed but stopped drinking halfway through the night to sober up by the time he has to drive. Even in your inebriated state, you appreciate his sense of responsibility. He’s rolled the sleeves of his quarter zip up and you try your best not to drool over his toned arms every time he moves his hands when he talks. Sunghoon looks so effortlessly cool when with your friends and it’s almost as if he’s known the three of them for as long as you’ve known them to the point where you’re questioning if he’s truly an introvert or not. 
It’s this level of comfort that keeps you in Seoul. Surrounding yourself with people who support you unconditionally feels like a reward after spending your childhood wishing for the friends you have now. It feels like everybody has a place in your life because you’ve done the work to keep people who love you for who you are rather than somebody they assume you to be. It’s nice to let go of the high walls you’ve built around yourself for protection. 
Eventually, half of the alcohol is gone and so has all of the food. Jake’s had a bit of influence over your drunken state because as he puts it, he’s the host and needs to make sure everybody is having a good time. You’re not one to blame him though, since you’ve been accepting every shot and drink he’s put in your hand. Jay’s the one who prevents Jake from giving you anything more when he sees the way you’re swaying in your spot on the floor where all of you have formed a circle. 
Jake returns from the kitchen after throwing away empty bottles. “Damn, so all of us are staying here for the holidays?”
“I haven’t decided if I’m staying or not, if that counts for anything. My parents are going to be in London but there’s a month and a half until Christmas, so I have some time to decide.” 
“Sunghoon, you’ve got to be crazy rich if you can afford to fly to Europe at the last minute.” You’re about to scold your friend but Sunghoon just laughs. 
“I suppose I’m a bit privileged like that. I’ve spent every holiday season back home and wanted to try something different this year.”
“What does Christmas in your hometown look like?” 
“Really cold. Almost as cold as Seoul when the snow begins to fall. We take Christmas seriously since we’re primarily known as a holiday destination for people who like that kind of stuff. A lot of our publicity revolves around the holidays, so my city is a little bit like a winter wonderland. At least, that’s what they want you to believe.” 
“Sounds like the perfect place for you,” Heeseung says as he nods over at you. 
“Why’s that?” 
“She loves Christmas. She can’t get enough of it and does everything holiday-related as soon as summer ends.” 
“Do you like Christmas that much?” Sunghoon asks you with apprehension in his tone.
“You don’t?” 
Sunghoon shrugs at your small outburst. “Our whole thing is about Christmas and holiday festivities. It gets a little old when you’re surrounded by it all the time” 
“Sounds like a dream.” He smiles at you. 
“I’m sure you’d like it there. My parents love the holidays and go all out every year. It’s a bit corny but they’re wholesome people and I know they love their country as much as anyone else.”
“She always knows what’s going on around town if it has anything to do with the holidays,” Jake tells him. 
“Oh, really?”
“Did you know there’s gonna be a Christmas market right next to Yonsei? They’re gonna be selling a bunch of baked goods and decorative stuff. I heard their food trucks are really good.” 
Jay chimes in. “We should go next weekend.” Jake elbows his ribcage. “Actually, you two should go together.” 
“Us?” Sunghoon points between him and yourself. 
“Yeah, why not?” Jake shrugs like it’s the most obvious answer. “She’s a huge fan of the holidays and you’ve never experienced it here. Why not see what Christmas in Seoul looks like?” 
“I’m not big on those kinds of things.” Your heart plummets and you don’t really know why. You put a smile on your face anyway. 
“You don’t have to do anything, Sunghoon. I don’t mind doing these things alone and you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.” 
There is an indescribable look on Sunghoon’s face when you finish speaking and the living room is completely silent. He peeks at you through his long eyelashes and it feels as if he’s inspecting you from where he sits. Neither of your friends say anything either and you’re one second from awkwardly laughing when you realize nobody’s saying anything until Sunghoon speaks up again. 
“I’ll go with you.” 
“You really don’t have to.” 
He cocks his head to the side. “It sounds like you’re really excited about it. I might be tired of Christmas but maybe you can change my mind.” 
His words fly right over your head and Heeseung can see it in the way you beam at the mention of Sunghoon’s proposal. Even he hears the absurdity of it all when he looks at Sunghoon, who doesn’t spare anybody else a glance. You try to contain your excitement and keep smiling to a minimum, but you feel your cheeks harden anyway and Sunghoon smiles right back at you. 
“We could go tomorrow!” 
“You’ve had quite a bit to drink,” Heeseung reminds you. “Maybe next weekend?” 
“You, of all people, should know that I don’t get hangovers. I'm too excited just thinking about it.”
“We can go tomorrow if you’re not too tired. I can check in with you when I wake up. How does 10 AM sound?” 
You sigh, content. “Perfect.” 
When the conversation starts to die down naturally, everybody seems to be under the impression that it’s time to go. You say goodbye to your friends and thank Jake for hosting the party, choosing not to tell him what Jay had revealed to you earlier. Sunghoon seems like he had a great time because as you’re putting your shoes on, you see him exchanging numbers with everybody else. Sunghoon carries the empty tray that was once filled with dessert and tells Jake to keep the rest of the alcohol, no doubt solidifying him as someone he’d want to keep around. The drive back to your apartment feels too long for your liking and your body feels heavy when the two of you arrive at your respective doors. 
“Thanks for driving. I promise I don’t usually get this drunk.” You hiccup. “Well, okay, that’s a lie. I only get this drunk when I’m with this specific group of friends.” 
“It’s fine. It’s nice to let go every once in a while.” 
You look up at him. “Did you have fun?” 
“I did,” he says with a single, firm nod. “Your friends are really funny. I was kind of worried about it on the way here because I tend to be really quiet when I meet new people for the first time, but it felt like we knew each other already.” 
“They knew about you.”
“Did they?” 
“Mhm.” You hiccup again. “I told them about my new neighbor a while ago and thought you looked cool, but I’m a little awkward, you know? I don’t really know how to talk to people without someone else acting as a buffer.” 
“Could've fooled me. You did just fine.” 
“That’s because you saw me in Jake’s ugly fucking sweater.” You make a face at the memory, cheeks heating up at the look on Sunghoon’s face when his eyes roamed from the fabric to your face. “You called me ugly.” 
Sunghoon laughs. “I called the sweater ugly. Not you.” 
“You don’t think I’m ugly?” Your question catches Sunghoon off guard, but you’re already fishing for your apartment keys when he looks at you. 
“No, I don’t.” You don’t seem to be paying attention to him as you successfully jam your keys into the lock on the second try. He sees a peek inside when you open the door and watches you stumble inside before latching onto the doorknob to balance yourself. 
“Thanks for coming with me, Sunghoon. I’m really glad you had fun. I think my friends like you a lot.”
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah. They’re a little protective over me and like to make sure any guy I hang out with is cool. You know how it is.” Sunghoon holds the door open for you while you take your shoes off and throw your purse somewhere on your couch before turning around to look at him. 
“I mean it, though. Thanks for coming and dealing with me and my friends. We’re a little bit of a handful.” 
He smiles and shakes his head. “Not in the way you think. It’s nice that you have people in your life that you can be yourself around and it seems like they love you just as much as you love them.” 
“I really love my friends. But don’t tell them I said that.” Sunghoon pretends to zip his mouth shut. 
“Your secret's safe with me.” You look at him with an unreadable expression, but it gets replaced with a tired smile. 
“Sleep well, okay? My friends are your friends.” 
“You’re so generous,” he says with a laugh. You take a step forward but retract when the sober part of your brain reminds you that the two of you aren’t likely close enough to give each other a hug goodbye. 
“...Do you still want to come to the Christmas market with me tomorrow?” 
“I’ll give you one chance to convince me that the holidays are fun, but only if you wake up without a hangover.” He laughs when you give him a mock salute.
“I don’t get hangovers, remember?” You tap the side of your head with your pointer finger. Sunghoon smiles down at you before pulling his phone from the back of his pocket. 
“I should probably get your number too.” 
“Oh.” He hands it to you and your fingers suddenly feel numb. You manage to type your number and try to think of something cute and quirky to put as your contact, ultimately settling with your name followed by the ‘:)’ symbol. It’s casual but you think it makes you stand out from generic contact names, as Sunghoon seems like the kind of guy who keeps everything straight to business. 
“I’ll text you so you have my number too.” You pull out your phone when you see him typing. 
Unknown: It’s Sunghoon! :) 
You feel like a creep trying to bite back a smile.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Don’t push yourself if you wake up too tired but promise me you’ll try to get some sleep tonight.” 
“I promise. Goodnight, Sunghoon.”
***
You aren’t sure whether you’re pleased or not when you wake up at eight o’clock on the dot with no chance of falling back asleep in sight. You turn to see that your phone is fully charged and force yourself to  leave your warm, comfortable bed to prepare yourself for the day. You don’t respond to the text Sunghoon sent last night and don’t know if he’s going to keep up his end of the bargain and go with you to the Christmas market, but you decide to get ready in the event that he was serious about it. 
Your friends text you too, both in the group chat and separately. Heeseung, as always, is telling you not to overthink anything and enjoy spending time with your neighbor crush. He tries to be as encouraging as he can but can’t help slipping in a few jokes here and there about how fast you’re growing up (even though you’re only a few months younger than he is). Jay sends you words of encouragement too, but he keeps it straight to the point and tells you to buy him something that you think he’d like if you stumble across anything. Jake, on the other hand, makes far too many inappropriate jokes that you have no choice but to laugh. You feel something akin to a high school crush getting ready for a first date even though this isn’t technically a date. 
You’ve managed to pull yourself together and see that the time is half past nine when you check the clock. Sunghoon hasn’t texted you at all today so you take the liberty to let him know you’re awake and hope you don’t come off as pushy or overly eager. But he responds in kind and tells you he’s getting ready and will be knocking on your door soon. 
True to his word, Sunghoon stands at your doorstep when it’s 10 AM.
“You look so cozy,” he says. 
Never mind that you’re swearing something you deemed cute and casual that pairs well with the low temperature outside along with the snowfall from last night. Sunghoon steps out looking like a model himself with his tailored trousers, a graphic shirt, and a denim jean jacket. He looks like the epitome of every girl’s fantasy of the boy next door once again.
“You look really good.” You say it before you can catch yourself and he laughs. 
“You think so?” Your eyes snap up at him as you frantically close your door behind you and lock it.  
“Will you be warm enough in that?” 
“I’ll be fine, but I appreciate your concern.” You frown when he starts to lead you towards the elevator. 
“If you say so.” You see a small silver camera peeking out of his pockets. “What’s that?” 
He pulls it out for you to see. “It’s a Z155 film camera. I got it before moving to Seoul and wanted to learn how to photograph with this type of camera. Cool, right?” 
Your worries dissipate the more you walk through your neighborhood and onto the outdoor market you’ve had bookmarked for weeks. Perhaps it’s the warm coffee amidst the chilly winter that excited you, or the handmade decorations that seem far too inexpensive for what they’re worth, but your face lights up when you walk through the aisles. There are too many vendors for you to look at and the overwhelming feeling perks up in your chest when you see different people trying to attract customers. But you’d argue that’s one of your favorite parts; hearing people talk about why they love the holidays so much brings you a sense of joy and fulfillment you don’t feel elsewhere. Sunghoon is a good sport about it too despite being a bit apprehensive at first. He graciously paid for your coffee and breakfast consisting of a warm butter croissant. It melts on your tongue and you regret not buying a second one.
People always ask you why you love the holidays so much and you tell them it’s because there’s no greater joy than being surrounded by your loved ones into the new year. You’ve always been a fan of winter despite the sun setting earlier than it does in the summer. Doing winter-related things in the appropriate season makes you happy, especially if you manage to drag one of your friends along for the ride. You draw the line at caroling, though. That’s taking it a bit too far. 
But the real reason is that Christmastime and the beginning of snowfall always marks a vicious cycle of wishing you could be anywhere but the present. Your childhood was riddled with uncertainties and walking on eggshells around your family and friends, and your household often felt like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. You were too afraid of making a mistake and chose to retreat within yourself, operating under the assumption that pleasing everybody else was how to protect yourself and your feelings. 
Prior to moving to Seoul, the start of the cold season was a reminder that your life wasn’t as picture perfect as you liked to imagine it was. No amount of television shows or fictitious scenarios running through your head before falling asleep would ever negate the neglect and absent feeling of joy in your heart as autumn turned into winter. You used to bide your time by hoping the months would roll past you until the springtime arrived. It always felt humiliating to hear your friends tell you about their vacations and all of the presents they received that year when the most your family could do was keep the lights on. That emptiness in the depths of your heart felt like it was void of feeling anything at all, and the holidays served as a reminder that things wouldn’t get better. 
It’s no surprise when Sunghoon turns to you as you both walk through the aisles of jewelry and artwork vendors when he asks you why you love Christmas so much. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to give the rehearsed spiel you reserve for people who don’t know you very well, and instead give him a half-truth.  
“This time of year is hard for some people and I used to feel like the world would stop spinning if I didn’t try to be at least a little happy when I moved to Seoul a few years ago. I was all alone for the first time in my entire life and barely knew anybody, and had to come up with my own way of cheering myself up since I spent it alone. I did a bunch of things by myself, like going to holiday markets or ice skating. I didn’t mind the solitude that much.” 
“Were you friends with Heeseung and the guys at that time?” 
“Barely. Heeseung and I were only coworkers back then but we sat across from each other every day to be friendly. But I didn’t know him as well as I do now and had a few roommates who went back home for a couple of weeks. It was pretty lonely and I hated feeling like I was stuck when I was the one who wanted to move to the big city.” 
“I think I understand. Christmas is a reminder of overcoming hardship for your first time living by yourself.” 
You nod, a bit relieved that he understands you a little bit. “Kind of, yeah. I didn’t grow up in the happiest household and wanted to do something good for myself since I left my hometown. It feels like a shame if I don’t at least try.” 
“I think that’s the most profound thing anybody has ever said to me.” 
“I sound like one of those generic books with corny quotes.” 
“Can’t be corny if it’s true.” 
You smile at him. “I’ve become a lot better about being positive and optimistic since getting to know the guys, too. Hanging out with them during my second year in Seoul made me realize I wasn’t as alone as I thought I was, and even when they all went home to visit their families, I didn’t feel like the world was collapsing around me when I was alone for a few days. It felt nice to trust people and realize that people cared about me the way I wanted them to.”
“They sound like really great friends.”
“They are. I don’t know what I’d do without them, if I’m being totally honest. I think my mom was worried about me for the first year of me living here because I barely talked about meeting anybody. She used to complain that I always talked about work and that I stayed in too much on the weekends. I used to think she was just berating me but I get it now.”
“Sounds like she wanted you to get out and have fun.” 
“Yeah. I guess my mom was trying to tell me to get a life without directly telling me. She loves it when I send her pictures of myself outside of my apartment and I fill her in on things I’ve been up to that don't have to do with my career. She’s proud of me in that sense but always reminds me that there’s more to life than my job.”
“You have a great mom, from what I can tell. She has your best interest at heart and I think it’s sweet of her to care about you so much. What about your dad? Do you talk to him at all?” 
You look to the ground. “No. He passed away four years ago.” 
“Oh.” Sunghoon nods silently and tucks his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry.” 
“There’s no need to be. It happened a long time ago.” 
Sunghoon nods from your peripheral vision. “Do you see your mom often? Does she visit you in Seoul?” 
You shake your head. “She works at a fish dock and can’t take a lot of time off.” 
“I see. Do you visit her, then?” 
You’re acutely aware of Sunghoon walking beside you but his footsteps fall deaf to your ears when you think about your mother and picture her throwing nets of fish into baskets to sell to merchants in the same afternoon. She wakes up hours before the sun rises to greet fishermen by the docks as soon as daylight breaks and leaves when the space is clean and the fish is sold. You picture her in rubber overalls and boots, her hair tied back in a tight ponytail with a mask covering the lower half of her face to avoid the scent of the fish even though she tells you she’s used to it by now. 
It was hard to deal with her waning hours in your childhood and you often yearned for her presence when you awoke to see no trace of her in your household. You had a knack for differentiating the difference in gait between her and your father, and hearing the heavier steps of his footsteps always made you disappointed. Feeling his presence outside of your bedroom door felt like it was a prison sentence.
In a town that seldom encourages any lifestyle aside from fishing and farming, you always find a bit of solace in creative writing clubs and the school musicals as a way to excuse yourself from the small town life. You’d picture yourself underneath a single spotlight, standing center stage where everybody in the audience regarded you as someone who’d make it far beyond the borders of the isolated town. You imagine them roaring in applause when you took your final bow with your mother sitting in the front row with a bouquet of flowers in her hands.
But life and finances were immediate priorities to keep the roof over your heads and the table full of food. The electricity bill was renewed solely by your mother’s efforts to keep the three of you afloat whereas your father could barely keep a job for longer than a few months before the inevitable discussion of his unemployment. You recall hearing hushed conversations that always escalated to loud arguments just outside of your bedroom door and shoved headphones into your ears to drown out the sound of an unhappy marriage. 
His absence was deafening and there were moments where you preferred a chaotic household over a quiet one. In the mere weeks that followed his death, life seemed to move on for your mother but not for you. She still woke up before dawn and never complained about the cold weather during the winter months or the heavy rainfalls in the summer. Whereas she endured life as if he hadn’t passed, you carried the weight of emotional neglect and dissonance of your relationship with him. 
The funeral was a month later and his cremated remains were spread along the larger lake nearby because he always said he would never choose to move away from water. The boat ride to the deepest part of the lake was uncomfortable and frustrating as your mother and two of his closest friends lamented over his passing, barely touching on the hardship he put your family through in his years being alive. It seemed like everyone was able to forgive him and move on as if every single person in his family went unscathed. Listening to them recite their happiest memories with him felt like a knife twisting in your heart until it stopped beating. 
Moving away was bittersweet, too. The neighborhood you grew up in never felt like a home to you but it would always be nostalgic. It was a plot of land with four walls and a roof, and yet the memories you’ve made haunt every corner of your street like a ghost that refuses to cross into the light. The grey walls look more dreary and dull than it had before and the large tree that grew on the lawn was cut down after years of neglect. Your old house looked brand new and unrecognizable. Everything had changed too quickly for your liking. Even when you packed your last box in the moving van, the emptiness of your bedroom felt like you were saying goodbye to a part of your life you’d never yearn for again. You’ve never looked back since. 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up.” Sunghoon brings you out of your temporary stupor. 
“It’s alright. I didn’t mean to get lost in my thoughts.” 
He gently knocks his shoulder into yours. “Do you want to talk about it?” 
“I don’t think talking about even more depressing things is gonna put you in the holiday spirit.” 
“Keeping them to yourself just to make other people comfortable won’t put you in the holiday spirit either.” You know he’s right and begin to gnaw at your inner cheek. 
“I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable.” 
“The nice thing about having friends is that you can say whatever you want and they won't judge you.” Sunghoon smiles at you like he means it. His eyes twinkle underneath the sun and, even if for a moment, you feel like he’s right. 
“My mom and I are close, even if we don’t talk every single day. She works at a fishing dock and that takes up most of her time, and I work at one of the busiest marketing agencies in Korea, which eats up my week. We find the time to talk to each other and I tell her almost everything. I don’t think there’s a secret of mine she doesn’t know. 
“But even so, I love her too much to ever tell her how I’m barely handling everything. It's like I’ve been running into a brick wall every time I try to walk away from grieving. It’s always been the two of us even when he was alive. She raised me the best she could because he was always physically there, but never emotionally present for either of us. His passing left so many questions unanswered and unresolved feelings but it seems like she’s moved on from it.” 
“I’m sorry to hear that.” 
“It was a long time ago. My dad and I were never that close. There were a few good memories that I think about from time to time, but sometimes they’re ruined by all of the bad things I think about when I think about him. It’s an endless cycle of self sabotaging and I can’t stop myself from doing it. My mom wants me to visit her for a weekend during the holidays and she keeps asking me when I want to come home, but I keep pushing it off because I can’t bring myself to go back to a place that made me unhappy.” 
Sunghoon remains quiet beside you. When you take a peek at him, he looks as if he’s deep in thought as he looks ahead at the environment and watches the children play on the nearby playground. His eyebrows are furrowed only slightly and his mouth forms a downward pout, and you’re left wondering what he's thinking about. 
Finally, he speaks. “Do you feel guilty for putting it off?” 
“Yeah, I do.” 
“It’s almost like you know it's the right thing to do but you can’t bring yourself to do it. People teach you that family is everything, but when they force you to act and feel a certain way, it’s like you’re suffocating.”
“It’s like you took the words right out of my mouth. I keep telling her I’d think about it but I always feel guilty because it’s just an excuse to put off making a decision. I’d feel guilty if I don’t go, but I can’t bring myself to make that trip, even if she’s just a few hours away.” 
“My parents are a bit similar. They’ve given me more than I could ever ask for, and yet I still feel selfish for wanting to explore myself without them right behind me.” 
“I feel like an awful daughter every time I don’t agree to go home. I know she can tell I feel hesitant about it. I don't want to make her worry and I wish this feeling would go away. I can’t face my fears yet.” 
“Pardon if this is a difficult question for you, but…Is your father the main reason why you don’t want to go back?” 
“Yes.” You answer him meekly, as if telling the truth above a whisper will send you straight to purgatory. “I can’t walk in my neighborhood without hearing the sound of his voice when he yelled at me. Being in my house makes me think of all the times he’d threaten to throw me onto the streets for something as stupid as forgetting to wash the dishes. That place is a carousel of bad memories that I never want to think about ever again.”
“I’m so sorry.” 
“It’s normal for me now but it doesn’t make me feel any better if I try to frame it as ordinary. It doesn’t hurt me on most days. I push him out of my mind and focus on the present but the holidays are when I start to think about him and my childhood the most. I’ve never had a peaceful winter. There was always something going on and either Christmas or New Year’s was always ruined.”
“Is that why you love the holidays so much? To override your bad memories and create new ones?” 
“Yes. I never want to feel the way that I did before he passed away and having my friends here with me makes me forget about how sad I get when October rolls around. The weather gets colder but I try to do everything I can to think about how much I have to look forward to now that I’ve got so much time to do whatever I want. I learned that I can’t rely on somebody else to make me feel like I have something to live for.” 
“That’s admirable of you and I hope you know that.” 
“I don’t know if I’d put it that way.”
Sunghoon shakes his head. “It is, though. It sounds like you had a rough childhood and your mom was spread thin with her job that it left you with someone who couldn’t take care of you. I can hear it in the way you talk. You’ve got this determination inside of you whether you realize it or not.”
“Sometimes I feel like it’s all for nothing. I wake up and live my life but it doesn't feel like I’m getting better.”
“You have your whole life ahead of you to understand the grieving process and work through that. You’ll never know if you don’t stick around to find out, will you?” 
“No, I suppose not.” 
“My parents put a lot of pressure on me to perform well in everything. Bad grades weren’t acceptable and I juggled a few different sports to fill my free time. It always felt like they set me on a path that I needed to follow instead of allowing me to figure out myself on my own. I know they meant well and I know they loved me, but sometimes I wonder if they’d love me knowing that I want something different than their future for me. 
“How do you handle it?” 
“I don’t.” Sunghoon shrugs nonchalantly and the hard snow underneath his foot crunches loudly as you near the end of the aisleway. “I keep putting it off like you do. I’m here in Seoul because they agreed to let me explore the city for a while until it’s time for me to return and discuss the future they want for me.” 
“What do they expect you to do?”
Sunghoon purses his lips. “They want me to take over the family business. My father is adamant that I come home and take it seriously because he’s planning on retiring soon and trusts me to be the person who handles everything. They run a local grocery market chain and love that lifestyle but it’s not for me. I want to be here in Seoul and figure out what my life is supposed to look like without them holding onto the dream that I’ll run the company. They’ve made good money off of it and found success as they’re starting to expand, but I don't want to have any part in it.
“I majored in business and operations when I was in university but hated every second of it. I always felt like I was grinding myself to the bones but I did it to make them happy. I never felt like I got the chance to do anything I wanted to do until they agreed to let me move here.” 
“You don’t seem like the kind of guy who’d run a grocery store chain.”
Sunghoon beams at that. “I don’t think so either. I like to think of myself as pretty creative but I don’t know what to do with that. I didn’t take any photography classes in college and I feel like my time is running up.” 
“The beauty of time is that there’s so much of it. You can do anything you want, whenever you want.” 
“Thanks. I’ve been taking a few photography classes here and there.” He pulls out the camera from his pocket and lets you look at it. “Lately, this is how I’ve been getting my creative fix. It feels good to do anything other than learning about how grocery stores operate. I couldn’t care less about that and I feel like myself when I’m behind the camera.” 
“I like that you’re so passionate about photography, Sunghoon. I can hear how much you love it by how you’re talking about it. It’s nice to hear people talk about their hobbies.” 
“He tries to hide a smile but fails, and instead turns the camera on and holds it above his eye. “Can I take a picture of you?” 
“Me?” 
He pulls it away and grins. “Yes, you. Who else would I be talking to?” You stand beside a large collection of snowglobes and pick one up as Sunghoon points the camera at you again. 
“You could’ve been talking to this snowglobe for all I know.” 
“Too bad. I want to take a photo of you. Smile for me.” 
Reluctantly, you do and see the flash go off before putting the snowglobe down and apologizing to the vendor, who doesn’t seem to be displeased with what transpired in front of her. Sunghoon thanks her too with a short bow before turning his camera off and tucking it back inside of his pocket. 
“The fun of film photography is seeing the pictures when they develop. As much as I love learning about lighting and composition, I like it when I don’t think too hard about the photos I take and seeing which ones come out good and which ones don't. It’s always a gamble but it's a safe bet.”
“You’re lucky. I don’t have an artistic bone in my body.” 
He cocks his head. “Maybe not in the way you think you do. Your friends were talking my ear off about how cool you are when it comes to your work. Heeseung told me you’re considering applying for a promotion because of your recent campaigns.” 
You blush and look away from him. “It’s nothing. I don’t think that’s really creative.” 
“You’re amazing, even if you don’t realize it. I think it’s cool that you work so closely with clients and help their vision come to life.” This feels like too kind of a thing for Sunghoon to say after having known you for such a short amount of time, but you can’t deny and say you don’t feel your heart fluttering with every compliment he gives you. 
Instead of responding by stuttering over your words, you drag Sunghoon through the remainder of the market and enjoy multiple warm cups of hot cocoa and try all of the desserts they have to offer. You end up buying a few things for your friends to add to their holiday gifts, even though they’ve been sitting in your bedroom for the past few weeks. Sunghoon reluctantly allows you to cover the lunch bill when you bring up how he bought every beverage and dessert the two of you have tried. He sees you signing the back of the receipt after writing today’s date.
“Why do you do that?” 
You hold the receipt up. “This?” 
“Yeah. Why do you sign it?” 
“I like keeping mementos of things. My fridge is covered in different letters, receipts, and artwork from friends and family. I have an entire box of receipts from important moments that I want to remember. I usually have the people I’m with sign them too and go through the receipts when I feel nostalgic.” 
“Do you think this moment is worth being nostalgic over?” You blush. 
“Yeah, I do.” 
Sunghoon blushes too. “I think that’s really cute, actually.” You slide the pen over to him. 
“Do you want to sign it?” His signature looks like that of a movie star. Even his penmanship is perfect. “There. Now you can look at this receipt when you miss me.” 
“Or I could just knock on your door until you let me in.”
“What says I’ll let you in?” 
“Because I’m the best neighbor you will ever have and even though you say you don’t like Christmas, you have to admit that you’re having fun.” 
Sunghoon smiles at that. “Yeah, you could definitely say that. I might have to come over to your apartment to see this receipt box of yours.” Sunghoon looks at you with a smile that makes you weak in the knees. It feels like you’re the subject of a reality TV show and you’re waiting for the camera crew to come out of their hiding spots and tell you this is all for show, but that never happens. 
“You know where I live,” you say to him coyly, backing away slowly as you throw your trash away. “Knock on my door any time.” 
Sunghoon laughs and you think you’d rather die than never hear it again.
***
You don’t get the chance to see Sunghoon during the week because of your work schedule but find yourself texting him whenever you get the chance. Your evenings are for catching up on TV shows that are halfway completed and messaging him even though he lives across the hallway. He hasn’t made an effort to come over to your apartment and neither have you, but you find yourself making plans with him to go ice skating with him during the following weekend and choose to look forward to that instead of letting your insecurities get the better of you. 
Heeseung asks you for updates and you can’t help but divulge into the whole truth, including every small thing Sunghoon did or said that made you overthink when he dropped you off at your apartment. He’s attentive and teases you every time you get a bit too shy to tell him how much fun you had with Sunghoon but tells you he’s proud that you’re putting yourself out there and making a new friend. Heeseung tells you that he and your other friends have been texting Sunghoon as well and discovered that they share a lot of common interests, and that they’ve got loose plans to see each other for drinks in the future. It warms your heart to know your friends like Sunghoon enough to include him in things, which makes you feel a little crazy considering he isn’t your boyfriend and you’ve officially known him for about three weeks. 
You find yourself standing on ice skates when the weekend approaches and you’re surprised to see that the outdoor rink is empty for a Saturday afternoon. You’re better than the average skater thanks to a childhood interest in figure skating and buying a ticket to the outdoor rink at least once every winter season. Sunghoon tells you he picked it up as a hobby when he was younger but his agility when he glides on the ice tells you he’s better than he claims. 
It’s chilly and your gloves protect your hands from the biting chill. Sunghoon’s alabaster skin looks like it’s glowing underneath the bright sun and his sunglasses make him look like the epitome of cool if you were to look it up in the dictionary. He keeps himself skating fairly close to you but you aren’t sure if that’s because he wants to be in your personal bubble or not. Either way, you sweat underneath your clothes and try to focus on balancing yourself on top of the hard ice. 
Sunghoon paid for your tickets and skate rentals too. He surprised you by signing his name and today’s date on the receipt for your safekeeping, telling you to keep it in your purse so it doesn’t get lost. He said it like it’s a matter-of-fact and not something only you do because you love being nostalgic about happy memories. Your hands shake as you lace up your skates and Sunghoon patiently waits for you to finish putting on the other shoe before taking up space on the ice. That feels warm.  
“I can’t help but like Christmas a little bit more when I’m on the ice.” Sunghoon takes his hands out of his pockets and runs his hand through his hair, and it makes you want to swoon. 
“Why’s that?” 
“Something about it feels like it should be done only in the wintertime. The Christmas music is helping me feel a little more festive anyway.” 
“There used to be a skating rink by my old middle school before it shut down a few years ago. I’d go with my friends as soon as December hit and learn how to skate because the owner saw me beg my parents to let me take lessons, but it was too expensive. She gave them a discount for my first few lessons.” 
“Did you stop skating?” 
“Yeah. They were able to pay for lessons as I advanced because of a bonus my mom received at work and she chose to spend it on me. My dad never cared that much but attended a few of my lessons here and there when my mom couldn’t drive me.”
“Did you compete?” 
“No, it was mostly for fun. I stopped because the financial burden was getting too much. Figure skating is the only thing I regret quitting.” 
“I stopped skating because it got in the way of my studies.” Sunghoon purses his lips. “I wasn’t aiming to go pro, or anything. It was a fun hobby I liked to do after school but my parents said it took up too much of my time because my grades weren’t straight A’s.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shrugs. “It’s not like I can’t skate anymore but sometimes it felt like I was being primed to take over their company and I could feel that when I was in high school. Ice skating was my way of trying to tell them that wasn’t the life I wanted, but I don’t think they got the message. I ended up quitting halfway into my sophomore year.”
“Do you miss being on the ice? 
“Sometimes. I competed at local competitions and thought about what my life would’ve looked like if I committed to a professional career, but I decided that wasn’t for me. I wanted to do something creative. Anything different than running a grocery chain.”
You bump Sunghoon’s hip. “Sounds like you’ve found your niche in photography.” 
“Ah, I hope so. I should show you some of the photos I have that aren’t on my wall.”
“Do you have a website or an Instagram for your pictures?” 
“No, but I probably should.” 
“You definitely should. I’ll even be your first follower and tell everyone to follow you.” 
Sunghoon smiles down at you. “How sweet of you.” 
“What happens next? You mentioned that your parents let you come to Seoul for a little while, but what happens after that?” 
His shoulders sulk. “Honestly? I don’t know. I moved into this apartment this past January and they said they’d give me a year to do whatever I want before I take over the business. I’m not so sure that I want to go back.” 
“Does that mean you have to move?” Sunghoon avoids looking at you. 
“Yeah.” 
“Oh.” The silence permeated for a moment. 
“I don’t want to leave, though.” Sunghoon clears his throat and shoves his hands back in his pockets. “I love Seoul and the freedom to do whatever I want. I work at a photography studio part time to pay for myself. I’m lucky that they agreed to pay my rent but that luck’s running out soon because they want me to come back. 
“It’s funny, though. My younger sister’s the one who wants to run this company because she’s studying business operations and loves it. She thrives in this environment and has always been interested in networking with people my parents know. I couldn’t care less about any of that. She has fun at his client parties but all I want to do is hide in a corner.”
“Why won’t they let her take over the business, then?” 
“My parents want to retire soon. They’ve been at it for so long and people are pressuring them to sell the business because everybody who knows them, knows they want out. My sister’s in her last year of university and isn’t ready to take over just yet. They say she needs more experience even though she’s interning with his division until she graduates.”
“So, what? If you take over, what’s she gonna do?” 
“Ideally, she’d be a co-owner the minute she feels ready to do it. But I think the plan for her is to become an assistant and then find another CEO role in another company. My parents don’t really understand that she and I want to switch places because they’re so focused on their retirement. We don’t know how to bargain with them and it’s become a sore point in our relationship.” 
“I’m really sorry, Sunghoon.” 
“My sister and I talk about this every time we see each other and I can tell she’s upset that they aren’t willing to wait out for her. She knows I don’t want this either, but sometimes it feels like she’s barely there whenever I’m with her.”
“It’s like knowing what you want is right in front of you but out of reach.” Sunghoon agrees in a noncommittal hum and you see him look in front of you at the other skaters. 
“I know how much she wants my position and I’d do anything to give it to her. I just need to convince my parents to wait a few years. I don’t mind helping out from time to time like I do now. But I don’t want to become CEO and work in that industry. I want to be a photographer and have my portraits hanging in museums and in people’s living rooms. Is that too much to ask for?” 
“No, it’s not. You’re so passionate when you talk about photography and it’s really endearing.” 
“You think so?” 
“Yeah, I do. It sounds like your sister is passionate about that CEO role as well. I hope the two of you are able to work things out.” 
Sunghoon sighs from beside you. “Me too. My lease is up in the new year and I’ll have to start packing if they don’t agree to wait a few more years until she’s ready. They’re afraid of bringing it outside help because they’d rather keep this in the immediate family.” The thought of knowing Sunghoon might no longer live across from you sends you into a temporary panic. You’ve just gotten to know him and it feels a bit unfair. “But I don’t want to move. I’m happy here.” 
“Are you?” 
He looks at you and smiles. “I am.” 
“I hope you’re able to stay,” you tell him, avoiding eye contact. “I think you’re fun to be around.” 
“Just fun?” Sunghoon teases, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Not charismatic and devastatingly handsome?” 
“No,” you lie, willing the cold air to cool down your warming cheeks. “I would never call you any of those things.” 
“Such a shame, Y/N. You have an incredibly hot neighbor who’s willing to do all of these Christmas things with you.” You smack his bicep. 
“You’re so annoying.” He laughs. 
“You’ll have to try harder to get rid of me.” 
***
The first time Sunghoon saw you was approximately a week after he moved into his apartment. You were wearing blue Bose headphones and looked so determined to unlock your door that Sunghoon chose to keep to himself and not bother you. He couldn’t help but notice the scowl on your face and how it made the perfect pout etch itself onto your lips. 
Ever since then, he’s seen you nearly every time he’s stepped out of his apartment and starts to wonder if this is fate telling him that he should make the first move and approach you because you’re friendly enough to nod at him when he passes you throughout the building. But he’s always been an introverted person who falters when it comes to meeting new people. Growing up around investors and adults who didn’t care about anything other than the economy didn’t do great for his confidence, especially since finance and business was the last thing he wanted to talk about. 
His sister was always more outgoing than he was. Sunghoon used to stutter when girls talked to him and couldn’t fathom the idea that anybody would be remotely interested in him enough to develop romantic feelings for him. It often felt like his personality mirrored everybody else’s for the fear of disappointing people to the point where Sunghoon had a hard time figuring out who he was when he wasn’t with his family or anybody who knew him as he grew up. 
Leaving his home to live in Seoul was something akin to a breath of fresh air. He loved his university days because it was the first and only time that Sunghoon could be himself without being afraid of what others would think of him. He experienced many ‘firsts’ while he was away from home–first college party, hangovers, and having sex for the first time. His first girlfriend made him realize he wanted more to live than to live the predestined plan that his parents set out for him. He didn’t want to marry someone into his family only for him to become a shell of a human being if he took on a job he didn’t want to do. When his girlfriend encouraged him to follow in his father’s footsteps because of how wealthy and successful he could be, Sunghoon broke it off with her and never looked back. 
Working for his parents was supposed to be a trial run. For the first three years after he graduated, Sunghoon agreed to come back and work at the company as an entry level assistant and work his way to the top. The weight of their expectations hung over his shoulders every time he stepped foot inside of the tall, intimidating building, and the anxiety he felt never really left him. Sunghoon worked himself to the bone every single day and continued dreaming of a life that was anything but his reality until his parents came to him with the proposition of slowly transitioning into an executive role. Suddenly, it felt like Sunghoon was running out of time and he proposed a year off before he would begin that process. 
Now, Sunghoon finds himself walking into your apartment with these lingering thoughts at the forefront because his parents are indirectly pressuring him to move back home. He ignores their calls and voicemails to the best of his ability. Spending time with you and your friends is a welcomed distraction because he doesn’t have to think about his future. The four of you give him space to be whoever he wants to be, and that isn’t something he’s felt in a very long time. 
“Your apartment looks like the inside of your brain,” Sunghoon tells you as he looks at your colorful furniture and the artwork decorating your walls. He lingers by the gargantuan posters of different cocktails framed neatly and the bar cart you keep by the kitchen in case you feel like having a drink or two on the weekend. “It’s so…you. 
“I worked really hard to make it that way. My Pinterest boards can tell you that much.” 
“I like that you’ve incorporated dark green. It’s pretty.” 
“Dark green is my favorite color. I’ve always wanted a space that felt like a home rather than a place I live in. I bought this green velvet couch when I got promoted the first time.” 
Sunghoon caresses the back of the couch. “Soft. I like it.”
“Do you want a drink, or anything?” 
“Are you gonna make me something festive?”
“I subjected you to ice skating and Christmas music that seemed to have four songs on shuffle the entire time. I think I’ll spare you tonight.”
“I’d like to try something new, if you’re up for it.” You light up and Sunghoon thinks he wants to make you look like that more often. He follows you into the kitchen and watches as you wash your hand and bring out every ingredient before turning to face him. 
“Have you ever heard of a hot toddy?” 
“Can’t say that I have. What is it?” 
“It’s an alcoholic drink I used to make with my friends from college when it starts to get cold. It’s whiskey, honey, and lemon dissolved in hot water.” 
“I don’t see how that’s festive,” he teases. 
“Trust the process, Park Sunghoon. First, boil water in a kettle.” 
Sunghoon watches you assemble the drink that is a bit too complicated for him but appreciated the effort you put into it. You tell him about your friends from college and how some of them have moved far away while others are people you see every once in a while. He hears about how you became a crowd pleaser during one particularly cold December night the day before finals and ended up making dozens of hot toddy’s for the people who lived on your dorm floor. You show him a picture of the makeshift tip jar your roommate made you to collect tips from students who wanted to pay you for the drink and went home with enough money to make you forget about finals. 
You tell him that your friends love this drink too, even if they downplay just how much. You hand him your phone and let him scroll through pictures you took of Heeseung and Jake the last time you made the drinks for everybody. They were hanging off of each other after begging you to add in a shot more than necessary every time you made a new cup. Jay helped you set a makeshift bed on the couch and floor for them to sleep off the alcohol and Sunghoon laughs at their less than flattering faces when you smile with two thumbs up as they pass out from the alcohol. 
Sunghoon has deduced that being here feels comfortable. It’s crazy to him that the four of you managed to weasel your way into his life as quickly as you did. He finds himself playing video games with the guys when they come home from work and they add him into their group chat within a few days of knowing him. Sunghoon’s always had a difficult time keeping friends around because he feels too awkward to socialize and feels like he never learned how to make friends around his age because of the environment he grew up in. He takes a picture of you on his camera despite your protests when he feels like words are too much.
Getting to know you has felt like the climax of a romance film. He’s spent so much time pining after you from afar, from thinking about what your favorite foods might be to what kind of music you listened to. You always looked so polished and head strong, something Sunghoon wished he could be. He’d lie to himself and say he’s attracted to you because you give off a sense of self-confidence that he’s never seen in anybody else, which is partially true, but spending time with you has only made him fall for you even harder. 
He’s only known you for a few weeks but it’s felt like he’s known you for a lifetime. Sunghoon tells you things he’s too afraid to tell other people or admit out loud. You bring out a side of him that wants to make a life for himself instead of listening to people who don’t have his best interests in mind. He loves it when you share your interest in Christmas and winter with him because it feels like he gets to know you better and it takes his mind off of his future. Plus, it helps that you look too cute when you start to get excited about things. Sunghoon can’t bear to be the reason why you would ever cease to feel like that. 
The more the two of you sip on the warm alcoholic cocktail, the more Sunghoon feels his shoulders start to relax. Whether it’s because he hasn’t eaten anything in a while or because you’re giving him butterflies, he doesn’t know. He hasn’t told anybody about you because he doesn’t know who he’d tell and he can’t believe he’s standing in your apartment making conversation with you. You laugh at his jokes and give him a tour of your place as he sips on his drink, and the warmth spreads throughout his chest. Suddenly his sweater feels too hot. 
You let him inside of your bedroom and it’s neat, with keepsakes lining your shelves and books on your walls. You’ve got a few floating bookshelves he admires and gawks at because he thinks it makes your room look that much cooler. You’ve got a few pictures of yourself, friends, and family along your desk and a makeup vanity with an impressive mirror on it. Everything in your room feels like it has a place and a reason to be there and Sunghoon can’t help but feel privileged that you’re letting him inside, like he’s supposed to be there too. 
“Is this your box of receipts?” he asks when he sees a small box without a lid on it. There are dozens of receipts haphazardly lying in there and he takes one out when you nod at him. There’s a receipt for a late night doughnut run, a printed copy of the receipt from the couch in your living room, and your first trip to the doctor. He digs to see if he can find the one from the market. “Where’s the receipt from when we went to the market?” 
You point at the board above your desk filled with pictures and other receipts too. Sunghoon looks at it and spots your handwriting and his next to a picture of you as a child. It makes his heart melt a little bit. 
“I like to keep really good memories up here.” 
Sunghoon feels like he could cry. “I’m really happy you had a fun time. I did too, but I didn’t want to come off as weird and tell you that.” 
“I don’t think it’s weird at all. If anything, I didn’t want to come off as too eager to hang out with you when we got back home.”
“Is this a good time for me to confess that I wanted to hang out with you instead of parting ways?” You look away from him to hide your smile and he can’t help but feel his heart skip a beat. 
“Now you’re just buttering me up,” you say in lieu of an answer. You stand impossibly close to him while he looks at the pictures on the board. 
“You were such a cute kid.” 
“I was cuter when I wore pigtails and when I was missing my two front teeth, that’s for sure.” 
“I think you’re doing fine just now.” 
You blush again. “Okay, you’re definitely trying to make me flustered.” 
“Is it working?” Sunghoon grins when you hide your face in his arm. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 
“Anyway!” You pull yourself off of him and close the receipt box while he laughs behind you. “That’s enough of that.”
“It’s getting late and I think you put too much whiskey in this.” Sunghoon looks at you with another teasing grin but he’s starting to like catching you off guard like this. 
“I’m not listening to anything you say because you said it was just enough.” Even your faux pout is cute. “Thanks for going ice skating with me.”
“Thanks for making this for me.” He holds up his empty cup and you lead him to the kitchen. He offers to wash your dishes for you but you decline and forcibly lead him to the front door when he starts to protest. The exhaustion from today has started to tire him out and his eyes begin to droop when he steps outside. 
“Goodnight, Sunghoon. Thank you for today.” You look up at him with an expression he can’t read. 
“I had a lot of fun. I mean it. You might change my mind about Christmas after all.” 
“There’s nothing I can’t do, Hoonie.” He blushes at the nickname. “Text me when you’re home, okay?”
He snorts. “Sure thing. I’ll be sure to text you in five seconds after I lock my door.” 
“Good. Who knows? This is a big hallway. Maybe you’d drip and fall a few steps into your journey.” Sunghoon thinks you’re too cute when you’re coy like this. 
“I’ll even text you when I’m tucked in bed so you know I made it safely.” 
The last thing he expects you to do is kiss his cheek. He feels your lips on his skin and his entire body becomes frigid, like he suddenly forgot how to breathe. Sunghoon thinks he might trip on his way back to his apartment at this rate. 
“Goodnight, Hoonie. Text me when you’re home.”
***
You don’t get the chance to spend any time with Sunghoon for the next couple of weeks because your work leaves you too tired to do anything outside of your apartment since it requires a few hours during your weekends. Sunghoon seems to understand and doesn’t push you to go out with him too much. Part of you wants to invite him over to your place for something casual, but your tendency to overthink prevents you from putting that offer on the table. 
Heeseung can tell you’re overwhelmed when he sees you. You hide yourself away in the confines of your office and don’t make conversation with him like you typically would. The start of the holidays mark a tumultuous time for you and he knows that better than anybody else. He can’t help but be a little concerned when you don’t join him for lunch like you typically do if meetings don’t interfere. When he sees you eating at your desk with a pathetic looking sandwich with a single bite taken out of it, he walks into your office without knocking and replaces his lunch with yours. 
“Don’t even think about scolding me for coming here unannounced.” Heeseung gestures at your desk. “Eat.” 
“You don’t deserve to eat a poorly made sandwich.” 
“Oh, and you do?” 
You groan. “No. But I was in a rush and forgot to pack a lunch last night.” 
“What’s going on? I’ve never seen you like this.” 
“My mom keeps asking me if I’m going to come home and I feel so guilty that I keep dodging it. I know she means well, but that’s what makes it worse. She keeps telling me she wants to have one weekend with me for Christmas, even if it isn’t on the actual holiday because she hasn’t seen me in a while. 
“I feel like I’m disappointing her, you know? It’s hard to leave the bubble I’ve created for myself because I know I have to face all of the bullshit I faced with my dad when I go back. It feels like I become the teenage version of myself who couldn’t express her feelings and kept everything bottled up inside. I want to forget all of that. I don’t want to be that kind of person anymore.” 
“Do you want to go?” 
“I do, but I can’t bring myself to actually buy a train ticket. I want to go home and not feel this contempt but I can’t help it. I hate it there. I hate walking through the hallways because I can hear his footsteps and the way he used to yell at me when I did something wrong. I can’t escape these feelings when winter starts. I mean, you know me. The holidays only became what it is because I try not to think about how fucking awful it used to be.” 
“You can’t run from everything forever, though.” Heeseung looks at you like he’s trying to drill his words into your head. “You’ve already done the work to push past it.”
“I know, but it’s hard to be in a place that feels like an empty home. I’m so nostalgic for everything I loved as a kid but it gets tainted when I think about my dad and how hard it was for my mom to raise me by herself. All I can think about is how I felt when I couldn’t do anything to save myself. But on the other hand, I feel so guilty for missing him too. He had his moments and I try to think about that instead of thinking about the bad ones. He’s not here to make me feel like I have to watch my back, but why does it feel like I still have to?”
“You’ve been through a lot and you have to understand that the average person doesn’t go through a lifetime of pain and trauma before they turn twenty-one. It feels like you’re stuck because there aren’t many people who can relate to you.”
You sigh. “I guess so. It feels lonely and isolating. It doesn’t matter how many times I open up to a therapist about it either. It always feels like I’m running so fast that I end up tripping over myself.” 
“So, what are you gonna do about it? Sit here and mope or make a decision?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is, though. You’re somebody who hates waiting around for people to save you. The only way to resolve anything is to pick a decision and stick with it until the end. If you regret it, at least you can say you tried.” 
“It’s really hard to self sabotage when I’m friends with you.” 
Heeseung laughs at that. “I know. I won’t let you do that either.” 
“I think I mostly feel bothersome for always talking about the same old problem to you.” 
“It doesn’t bother me. I care about you and you clearly need to talk to somebody who knows you inside and out. I’ve seen how difficult it is for you to open up and the fact that you’ve grown so close with Sunghoon in a short amount of time is incredible to me.” 
You groan and slump over your desk. “Don’t remind me. I haven’t properly seen him in weeks and feel awful that I have no energy to hang out whenever he asks me to. I hope he doesn’t think I’m ghosting him.”
“He doesn’t.” 
“How could you possibly know that?” Heeseung pulls out his phone and lets you glance over his texts with Sunghoon. 
“He asked if you were okay a while back and said he was worried since you kept declining to go out. His first thought was that you might’ve been sick or burned out, not that you were ghosting him.”
“Burned out is definitely the right answer.” 
Heeseung smiles at his phone. “Hoon was worried that he was coming off too strong by texting you so much. I told him you’d probably appreciate hearing from him more than giving you space.”
“Since when do you call him ‘Hoon’?”
“We’re close like that.” 
“That makes me nervous.” 
“I’ll be sure to divulge your crush on him while we hang out tonight.” You throw the cap of a pen at his chest. “He said he missed you, though.” 
“I miss him.” You groan a little too loudly for your liking. “I haven’t had any energy these last couple of weeks and I’ve been overthinking the hell out of kissing his cheek when I last saw him.”
“Sorry, you did what?!” 
“I kissed his cheek when he left my apartment and I can’t tell if I regret it or not.” 
“Dude, Sunghoon is clearly not weirded out by that,” Heeseung says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “He wouldn’t be checking in with me about your mental state if he thought it was weird.” 
“Are you sure?” 
“Positive. You don’t have to do anything crazy with him either. I get the feeling he’s the type of guy who’d appreciate doing anything as long as it’s with people he enjoys being around. He’d probably enjoy it if you two stayed in and watched movies.” 
“I can do that.” You pull your phone out and search for his contact. “I could do a movie and takeout.” 
“See? There's nothing to be worried about. You’re just stressed out about going home. Take it one day at a time.”
Sunghoon agrees to have a quiet night in when the weekend approaches and you find yourself sitting in his living room instead of your own. He tells you to come over in your pajamas with your worries left at his doorstep and asks you to let him take care of everything, including ordering takeout and paying for it. He tells you he’s up for watching a Christmas movie, but you’ve had your fill and the two of you decide to watch reruns of Community on Netflix as a way to relax through laughter and comedy. 
“I’m sorry that you’ve had a rough couple of weeks,” he says as he sits next to you on the couch. He’s encouraged you to put your feet up and sit however you’d like, and crossing your legs feels like a respectable position. He sits at a short distance from you, far enough that you aren’t touching but close enough that you can feel the warmth radiate off of him. 
“It’s that time of year. Everybody wants answers but nobody is willing to put in the work. It gets like this every December because everybody’s trying to finish strong before winter break.” 
“Still though, the guys made it seem like this was an everyday occurrence for you and seeing you so tired made me worried.” Your heart skips a beat. 
“Ah, well…my friends know I can push through anything. Jay’s the one who understands me the most when I get like this. I’ve been getting better at asking for help and they know I’ll come to them if I need to.”
“What about when you don’t?”
“Don’t what?”
“Ask for help?”
You turn to look at him. “I guess they force me to open up until I get annoyed and tell them to leave me alone. But that usually doesn’t last very long and I cave in since they never seem to listen to me anyway.” 
“I’ll keep that in mind for the future.” Sunghoon takes a small handful of the popcorn sitting on the coffee table and shoves it in his mouth. “You have good friends and I can tell they love you.”
“I owe them a lot, if I’m being honest. Sometimes it feels like I don’t do enough for them.” 
“You must be a good friend if they care about you that much, too. Don’t sell yourself short.” Sunghoon seems to see you in ways you can barely see yourself and his constant reminders always leave you speechless. 
“How’ve you been? How’s your photography class and work?”
“My classes wrapped up last week. It was bittersweet. I love my instructor and I’m sad that he and I are parting ways, but he’s taught me a lot that I’ll definitely remember when I pick up a camera. Work is fine as well, it’s getting a little busy because of the holidays but it’s nothing I can’t manage. They know about the situation with my parents so we’re trying to take it as it comes.” 
“Have you resolved that?” 
Sunghoon shakes his head. “Not yet…It feels like they don’t get it at all.” 
“I’m really sorry, Hoonie.” 
“It is what it is. I’ll miss Seoul a lot for more reasons than one.” He looks at you and your heart skips another beat. 
“Living here won’t be the same without running into you, I’ll tell you that much.”
“I’ll cherish those moments forever,” he teases. “I don’t know what I’m going to do but I’m going to try to convince them to hold off on retiring for a few years. I talked to our landlord and managed to negotiate one more month when I told him about what’s happening. I have enough to pay for that and I’m a little shocked that he agreed.” 
“Must be a Christmas miracle.” He looks at you with an unreadable expression. 
“Maybe. Have you decided if you’re going back home or not?”
You pick at your fingers. “I’m still on the fence about it. She called me yesterday and slipped that question in halfway through the conversation. I can tell she’s empathetic about it, though. She knows how hard it is for me to be back home with everything that happened with my dad. Part of me wants to go because I miss her, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Train tickets are probably too expensive anyway.”
“I’ll drive you.” 
You turn to face him. “Sunghoon, it’s a two hour drive.”
“And?”
“I’m not making you drive two hours to my house and two hours back to Seoul.” He looks at you like this is the easiest decision he’s ever had to make. 
“You’re not forcing me to do anything. I want to. This has been weighing on your mind for a long time and I don’t want you to miss out on spending the holidays with your mom just because of how much a ticket would cost to get you there.”
“Sunghoon–”
“It’s no sweat off of my back. I’m serious about it. I don’t have classes anymore and my work schedule is flexible. Plus, I think it could be cute to see where you grew up.” 
“That’s…Really sweet of you.” Sunghoon turns to look at you too and smiles with those plush lips you think about kissing a little too much. You try to reel it in because he’s your friend and that’s what friends do, right? 
“You’ve done a lot for me. The least I could do is drive you home.” 
You don’t say anything. You can’t say anything. Sunghoon sees you from the corner of his eye as you turn back to face the TV, and he watches you try to hide a smile. He turns away and feels his own cheeks flush at the thought of seeing you in your hometown, even if it’s for a short while. Above all, Sunghoon wants this Christmas to feel like it’s the best one you’ve ever had on the account that you’ve made Seoul feel like home for him. 
The night progresses and you switch to a movie halfway through the night until you yawn. Sunghoon grabs a blanket and puts it over the both of you instead of suggesting you go back to your apartment. Somehow, this gesture feels kinder than anything anybody has ever done for you. 
You’re both acutely aware of how close your bodies are because of the blanket but neither of you care all that much. Your shoulder keeps bumping into his every time you move and eat the popcorn he’s provided, and Sunghoon silently wishes that he could pull your body against his once and for all. He doesn’t, choosing to savor the way your side touches him instead of doing anything that might make you uncomfortable. But somewhere in your tired stupor, you put your head on his shoulder and yawn. 
“Thank you everything,” you say quietly. “You don’t know how much it means to me that you’d drive me home.”
“I’d do anything for you.” Sunghoon says it a bit too quickly but he doesn’t regret telling you that. 
“I wish I could repay you.”
“Being here is enough. Can I try something?” 
When you nod, Sunghoon maneuvers himself so that his back rests against the arm of the couch with his body spread across the cushions without disrupting you too much. You don’t fight against him when he scoops you into his arms and places your head on his chest. You feel his heartbeat in this position. It’s slow and melodic, unlike your fantasies of hoping the cute guy next door would have a rapid heart rate every time he saw you. But you think you like this better; Sunghoon seems to be comfortable around you. 
For the fear of touching you too much, Sunghoon keeps his hands by his side and pulls them away when he realizes he’s touching your exposed skin. You let go of every thought telling you to run away and grab his arms to wrap them around your own body, nuzzling your way close to his with your eyes closed in contentment. 
In lieu of saying goodnight, you kiss his chest and Sunghoon thinks he might be on cloud nine.
***
In the time between telling your mother you’d be home for a couple of days over the weekend to arriving at her doorstep, your friends have expressed their happiness in your decision. Jake couldn’t help but feel emotional when you told him and you get the feeling that Jay always knew the decision you’d make. Heeseung chose to forego teasing you out of solidarity for this vulnerable moment and wishes you all the best. However, all three of them did not hold back in telling you every joke in the book when you told them Sunghoon was dropping you off and picking you up. 
Sunghoon drives seamlessly and you silently thank him for it because approaching the familiar quietness of your neighborhood makes you feel somewhat uneasy. Your stomach turns in flips when you see that same house you used to look up at whenever you’d come home from school. It’s still jarring to see that only your mom’s car is parked on the street with your father’s car nowhere to be seen. It’s a physical reminder that he isn’t here and you don’t know if you’re relieved or not. She greets you the moment Sunghoon parks his car and the feeling of melting into her arms is indescribable. 
“I missed you,” she whispers into your hair. “It’s been so long.”
“I know, Eomma. I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t be. You’re here now and that’s all I care about. You’re Sunghoon, right?” He turns to look at you as he pulls your duffle bag out of his car and bows at a full ninety degrees for just a second too long. She finds it amusing and tells him so when he stands up. 
“Pleasure to meet you. Y/N has great things to say about you.”
“Oh, trust me. She has good things to say about you too.”
“Okay!” You clap your hands and grab the bag from Sunghoon, turning your body away from him. “I think we’ve had a long car ride and can find literally anything else to talk about.” 
“I should get going before traffic gets bad. It was nice to meet you.”
“Come in for some tea!” 
She doesn’t give him the chance to respond but he doesn’t seem to mind. Sunghoon takes off his shoes and leaves them in the corner as your mom presents the two of you with a freshly brewed pot that reminds you of your childhood. The interior looks the same as it has since you last visited and that big family portrait still hangs above the couch in the living room. Your father smiles back at you like he’s happy you’re here. 
Sunghoon chooses to remain quiet as he drinks his tea to give you and your mom some time to catch up. He feels a bit awkward in a stranger’s home when this trip was supposed to be about you and your family, but he can’t say he isn’t pleased when the warmth of the tea starts to settle in his chest. Photos of you from your childhood line the walls and he can’t help but comment about how adorable you look in pink bows and frilly dresses. You look as cute then as you do now, but that’s something he will never tell you. 
Your mom brings out a small booklet of photos from your past, too. You try to prevent her from showing Sunghoon but he laughs it off and sits with pictures of you from elementary school in his hands. He tries not to let it show that his hands are shaking because you let your chin rest on his shoulder as you peer over him. He can feel your warm breath on his neck and it sends him into a short spiral until you’re scooping up the book and handing it back to your mom with a bashful smile on your face. 
He can see that you’re trying your best not to feel like that same, awkward mess of a teenage girl when your mother tells him stories about you from childhood. She tells him about the first time you performed in a dance recital and how you were center stage only to accidentally trip on your shoelaces that nearly sent you flying into the audience. She tells him about your first overseas vacation to Disney World in Florida because it was the first time you learned you hated humidity and people who didn’t know how to drive. 
With every hour that passes by, Sunghoon starts to think he understands you better. He knows you to be somebody who’s independent and confident, but the idea that you had to work hard towards it was lost on him until he came to visit your hometown. He understands why you felt so trapped here between your mother’s rants about how difficult your dad was to the limited opportunities for you to thrive. She tells him a bit about how you were emotionally unavailable in your teenage years despite your protests (as mothers tend to do), but she finishes her thought by telling Sunghoon how she’s always thought you were destined for things greater than what a small fishing town could ever offer you. He pretends like he’s got allergies when he feels his eyes watering up. 
Sunghoon asks to stretch his legs and by the time the night approaches, he’s agreed to stay over and spend more time visiting your favorite places and where you grew up. Your mom tells him not to feel like he’s intruding, as she rarely gets to spend time with anybody in your life, and he decides that this little vacation might be good for him. He offers to pay for dinner and he thinks he’s gained some approval for that. 
Time passes by too quickly for his liking. You’ve taken him everywhere you can think of–your old ice skating rink, your favorite boba shop, the schools you’ve attended–but it still feels like he’s barely scratched the surface of getting to know you before adulthood. He loves that you’re so open about yourself in a way that he’s never been able to. You talk his ear off about drama that you haven’t thought about in decades and he listens and feels several different emotions on your behalf despite not knowing anybody you’re talking about. He parks his car in the parking lot of your high school and the two of you spend an hour eating takeout from your favorite sandwich shop and gossipping about the entire town just for the two of you to hear. 
You talk about your dad on occasion and he doesn’t pry you to talk about it either. Sunghoon hears the melancholy in your voice when you think about old memories and missing him in ways you’ve never been able to experience before. You tell him that it’s been four years since you lost yourself. You also tell him that you don’t want to live the kind of life where you’re held back by his opinion anymore. He’s here in the walls and all over town, and the weight of missing him doesn’t feel like a burden anymore. It feels like a step towards freedom to be who you are, free from the anchors that kept you sheltered. Sunghoon knows your mother must be proud of you for making this decision because he sees it in her smile when she watches you laugh.
He decides he wants this kind of life; Sunghoon wants to be supported by his family when it comes to what he wants to do with his life. He wishes his parents believed in him as much as your mother believes in you. Seeing her so open and welcoming to a complete stranger and bragging about your accomplishments to him makes Sunghoon yearn for that kind of unconditional love too. Even in the moments when you get quiet over unpleasant memories that seem to resurface from coming back home, it seems that she helps you through it and doesn’t shame you for feeling the way that you do. It’s something Sunghoon desperately wishes he could do instead of entertaining conversations about taking over his family’s business. 
If there’s one thing you’ve taught Sunghoon, it’s that he can fall as many times as he wants so long as he chooses to get back up again. He’s come to love how open you are when it comes to people and experiences because he’s starting to understand just how difficult your childhood was until you found your footing in Seoul. Being alone meant exploring who you were without the opinions of people who wanted to hold you back. Even if people gave you reasons to shun the world and expect apologies from everybody under the sun, you hold your chin up with dignity and choose to move on instead of dwelling on people and things that don't matter. He wishes he could be like that too.
“Are you happy?” 
Sunghoon stares at your ceiling in your childhood bed when he asks you that. He’s a bit surprised that he’s allowed to be here at all and offered to take the couch, but your mother said the two of you are adults and don’t need her permission. The two of you were blushing messes when she left you alone to unpack your clothes while she gave him an extra toothbrush and old clothes from her brother who left them at her place. Both of you decided that it would be too awkward to try to not cuddle on your surprisingly comfortable twin bed and he chooses to use this as an excuse to touch you. He hasn’t heard a complaint from you and the feeling of your body wrapped up in his is exhilarating.
“I am, yeah. This weekend was a lot better than I thought it would be.”
“But are you happy with your life? Are you happy with yourself?” You push yourself off his body and look down at him.
“Where’s this coming from?” 
“I kept thinking about my life and my parents for the past couple of days. Your mom’s sweet and I can tell she believes in you whenever she tells me about your life here. It sounds like she did her best to raise you between work and your dad, and I can never imagine how stressful your childhood must've been with him in the house. I see how much you’ve grown from everything. It’s inspiring.”
“I don’t know if inspiring is the right word. I think I was dealt with shitty cards and expected an apology from the world without realizing that I had to work on myself in order to receive it.”
“That’s the thing, though. I can see that you’ve put in the work to become a better person. My parents aren’t as supportive as your mom and I kept thinking to myself: ‘Do I want to go through with a life that’s already planned for me when I know I’ll be unhappy?’”
Sunghoon looks up at you when he feels you brush his hair from his eyes. He can’t really tell what you’re thinking about as you look all over his face but the gentle touch of your fingertips puts him at ease as his mind begin to race. 
“I am happy. There are moments where I feel like the world is crumbling around me, but I know tomorrow is around the corner. I used to think that there wouldn’t be people out there who would ever believe all of the things I went through, but meeting the guys and making a life for myself makes me think otherwise. I’m happier because of it.” 
“That makes me feel hopeful.”
“Does it?” 
He nods and closes his eyes when your fingertip draws an invisible pathway across his cheek and down the bridge of his nose. You get dangerously close to his lips but your hand merely cups his jaw and your simple, gentle touch is enough for Sunghoon to realize he’s fallen far too hard to give up on his future, especially if you’re in it. 
“Yes,” he says in a whisper. “You make me feel like I could do anything if I try hard enough.” 
Sunghoon stares at you like you’ve hung up every star in the galaxy for him to see. When he looks at you, everything he’s been too afraid to say comes bubbling to the surface and his life beyond today becomes as clear as day. He wants to wake up next to you every morning and listen to your childhood stories until you run out of breath. He wants to spend every Christmas with you and fill your memory box with as many receipts with his signature on it. There is no future without you in it. 
You kiss him so tenderly that Sunghoon thinks he might be imagining things. Your palm is warm to the touch and he’s quick to react, pulling your body closer to his while his arms enclose your body against him. Sunghoon doesn’t know how many nights he’s spent imagining what your lips taste like or the way you sound with his mouth on yours, but nothing could ever compare to the real thing. 
He maneuvers you onto his lap because of the limited space on your twin bed and his body feels like it’s set ablaze when the back of your thighs touch his lap. You’re wearing thin shorts and an oversized shirt while he’s wearing clean basketball shorts from his car and a shirt your mom let him borrow. He feels your breasts push against his muscular chest as you lean against him for support and tilt your head to capture his mouth like you’re trying to taste all of him at once, and Sunghoon thinks he likes it when you’re desperate for him too. 
The weight of your body on his lap inevitably makes him hard and the quiet gasp into his mouth makes Sunghoon buck himself up into you. You grip onto his shoulders and dig push him back down onto the mattress to keep yourself steady and he’s about to apologize for crossing a boundary until you grind yourself onto him too. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he complies, taking it off in one fell swoop. 
“You’re really hot, you know that?” 
“Would you believe me if I told you I work out for you?”
“Not even a little bit.” Sunghoon laughs as he pulls your shirt off of your body delicately, cupping your breasts in his hands as he gives them a soft squeeze. 
“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “So perfect.” 
He’s hard underneath you, so much so that you feel him through your thin sleeping shorts. His cock is situated between your folds and every small movement you make is enough to make him feel like he’s losing his mind. Sunghoon holds your breasts in his hands as you push yourself off of his lap just to sink your weight back down. He gives your nipples a squeeze periodically and he makes a mental note when you throw your head back and moan. 
“I’m so wet,” you whisper when you sit upright, your hips continuing to grind against him. The way your voice cracks makes him feel better about being desperate to feel you. “This feels so good, Hoonie. But we can’t. My mom’s down the hall.” 
“Do you trust me?” 
Seeing you nod is enough for him. Sunghoon’s thankful your mattress isn’t loud or bumping against the wall. He temporarily pulls you off of his body to kick off his shorts and feels a bit shy when you stare at how big and hard he is through his boxers. You push your lap back down onto his and he refrains from moaning too loud, silencing himself by pulling your lips down to his by your neck. His hands wander to your ass as you feel his toned chest and abdomen too. He pushes and pulls your body over his cock and moves his lips to kiss up your jawline. 
“I wish I could fuck you properly like you deserve,” he says, leaving a wet trail of kisses on your skin. 
“I want that too.” 
“I’d worship every inch of you.” He uses his hands to press you against his lap until you bite back a moan. “I want to know what you feel like.”
“Fuck.”
“Cute.” 
He kisses your chin and wraps his arms around your lower back to keep you in place before thrusting his hips up to meet yours. Sunghoon catches you by surprise and you bite his shoulder to keep yourself from moaning too loud every time his clothed cock bumps against your clit. He’s so warm underneath you and this kind of touch is one that you’ve been craving longer than you’d like to admit. 
The passion is short lived and the two of you don’t care how quick it takes the two of you to come undone in the quiet of your bedroom. He kisses you and tries to swallow the sound of your lips smacking against one another, too afraid that one wrong move could make your mother distrust him. Sunghoon’s kisses make you dizzy but you cling onto him like he’s your lifeline until your high ebbs away, and the two of you clean up before getting a well deserved, good night’s rest. 
***
Sunghoon can barely keep his hands off of you when the two of you arrive back to your apartment. He tells you to come back to his place and have a cup of tea with him before you part ways and you agree. The entire car ride home made you feel like you might as well be living in one of your daydreams because he didn’t mind it when you pulled one of his hands from the steering wheel to hold it the entire drive back. He’d switch from holding your thigh to kissing the back of your hand every time you changed the music. The two of you sang your hearts out to pop songs from the 2000s and pretended to perform in front of an audience when dramatic ballads came on shuffle.
Things fall into place on the ride back. You decide to pursue a promotion when it opens in the new year and text your friends to tell them you’re safe and with Sunghoon. They make you promise to tell them all about this past weekend and try to get you to reveal your presents, but you refuse and include Sunghoon in all of the jokes they tell you in your group chat before they ask if he wants to be added into the main one. In every sense of the word, it felt like the two of you found a home in each other. 
He lets you change into fresh clothes and shower before you knock on his apartment. Sunghoon feels his heartbeat picking up when you show up in a tank top and shorts with no bra on, and he feels a bit like a teenage boy seeing a girl semi-naked for the first time. The two of you talk about your trip and the next festive thing you’ll do when he feels himself starting to get worked up. All Sunghoon can think about was keeping his promise to you when he made you orgasm through your panties. He wants you to know that he loves you, so he decides to tell you that when you stand up to put your mug in his sink.
“I love you. I’m telling you right now that I’d do anything you asked me to.” 
Sunghoon squeezes your hips with his fingers like he’s trying to convey what he says through his touch. His breath is warm as it fans against your lips and the heat of his apartment makes your cheeks and neck warm up from where you stand. He breathes heavily, as if his confession carries a great deal of weight to it. Every word he speaks drips with honesty and the loyalty behind it scares you. 
And yet, you can’t bring it in yourself to pull away when he kisses you. 
His soft, pillowy lips approach your own with caution. You feel him hover above you until he’s ghosting his mouth against yours as if you’re a magnet he can no longer resist. Sunghoon’s lips descend upon your own and he holds your body tightly against him like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. 
You both move like two slow dancers, swaying to the silent melody only audible by those who pay close enough attention. It’s at this moment you understand why poets and romantics speak of a hidden language only two lovers know. Sunghoon’s confession strengthens the feelings you’ve harbored for him and something about the way he touches you makes you feel like you can let go of your inhibitions. He’s brought your eagerness bubbling to the surface and you find that the harder you try to ignore your love for him, the louder your heart beats inside of your chest. 
You can’t help but think about how perfectly you slot against Sunghoon when you wrap your arms around his neck. He squeezes your hips the more you push into him and kisses you like he’s trying to commit the way your lips feel to memory. All of your worries melt into the floor the moment Sunghoon pulls away to look at your face under the ambient lighting and his gentle touch brushes your hair out of your face. His delicate thumbs come to cup your jawline and rub the apples of your cheeks as if you were made of something breakable. Sunghoon looks at you like this with the kind of gaze that can only be described as fondness. He looks at you with an accumulation of his feelings and desires of being wanted for who he is, not who he’s supposed to be. 
When Sunghoon looks at you, what he sees before him is a strong girl who braves the toughest weather in a tiny row boat with nothing but her wits and a single paddle. It’s your intelligence and patience that steers you away from the turbulent waters. You’re a beacon that lights a dark tunnel and deep down, Sunghoon knows that you’re his guiding light that’ll lead him home. It was your charm and passion that drew him in, and it’s your resilience and willpower that makes him want to stay. 
“I am nothing without you.” Sunghoon kisses both of your cheeks and his warm lips feel like comforting reminders that he’ll always be with you. 
“Hoonie…”
“What is it?” 
“Kiss me.” 
He does, with a slow pass at your lips while his hands cradle your cheeks in his hands and the tenderness of his touch feels something akin to puzzle pieces falling into place. The feeling is intense and overwhelming the more you drink in Sunghoon’s words to you and in this very moment, you allow yourself to believe he means what he says. Your hands find perch on his wrists as you grip onto him to anchor yourself. Sunghoon keeps kissing you as he puts one hand behind your head while the other moves to your upper back. He’s got you, even when you fall onto the mattress behind you when he dips your body backwards. 
Sunghoon hovers above your body and cages you underneath him as his warm mouth pushes against you rougher than before. He squeezes your hip until both legs are wide open enough for him to slot his body between them. It’s like he can’t get enough of the way you feel against his body because he finally has you exactly where he wants you. Sunghoon’s heart beats loudly in his chest that he feels the vibrations in his ears the more he listens to the way you two kiss, paired with your hands pushing up his shirt. Your fingernails rake down his abdomen and it leaves him a panting mess while he sucks in his stomach at the intense feeling. Sunghoon pushes a quiet moan against your mouth and you drink it up like it’s water. 
“I want to see you.” 
You whisper your incantation against his lips and the desperation in your voice enchants him. Sunghoon moves his fingertips to the hem of his shirt and briefly disconnects your mouth to pull it over his body completely before coming back down to kiss you again. He feels your hands spread across his shoulders and arms, squeezing his biceps while you moan at their firmness. They touch his chest and down to his sculpted abdomen when he jolts and he emits that same, breathy moan from before. 
Sunghoon chases your lips when you push his chest away from you and it takes two tries until he’s pulling his body back. The way you look underneath him does not compare to when he dreams of you like this. You’re breathtaking and alluring with your hair fanned out and lips wet and swollen from his kiss. He loves the way you look at him like he’s your consolation prize for befriending him all that time ago, and Sunghoon thinks he loves the feeling of you looking at his body like you’re a step from objectifying him. It feels like you’re finally taking what you want without hesitating to, like you’re not ashamed of feeling so intensely about him. That guard you keep up, the one placed there in protection against those who have the intention of abandoning you, has vanished only for him.
“Touch me.” 
His baritone command rings in your head while your hand spreads across his abdomen. Your fingers feel every hard ridge and the way he constricts his stomach underneath your touch. Sunghoon holds your hand underneath his to pull it up to his neck and guides you down his body as if he wants you to memorize what he feels like too. Somewhere between his parted lips and intense eye contact is when you realize your sanity is nowhere to be found, and it seems like he can tell because he feels the way your legs squeeze him. 
“I want you to see me too.” 
His fingers lift the hem of your shirt. “Can I take this off?”
When you nod, his fingers begin to tremble the higher the fabric travels up your body. Your skin is warm and soft underneath his tongue and he’s afraid that he’ll forget what you look like if his eyes stray from you. He pushes your top until he sees your deep green bra that hides your chest from him and pushes your back into an arch for him to unhook the fabric without much of a fuss. 
He doesn’t know where to look first. The bra is thrown haphazardly beside him and you can’t bring yourself to care about where it is on his bedroom floor. Instead, his hands cup your breasts and his fingers give a light squeeze as if to experiment with them. Sunghoon’s eyes gloss over your body and his mouth parts in astonishment the more he soaks your image in. He brings the pads of his thumbs to rub your nipples that have grown hard and sensitive since he pushed you onto the bed. 
Slowly, he descends. His warm mouth wraps around your left nipple with a tantalizing slowness that makes you feel like time is frozen around the two of you. Your heart drums in your chest at his merciful tongue that experimentally licks your nub. Sunghoon’s eyes dart up to look at you and drink in every reaction from his movements, and when he feels your chest arch into him upon sucking his mouth around your nipple, he brings his hand to the other and pinches it until you yelp. 
He flattens his tongue to lick you up before moving his head to switch to your other nipple, pressing a wet kiss to the valley between your breasts before attaching himself back onto you. The spot where his lips touched you blooms underneath your skin and sends a soft buzz all over your body. It’s hard to focus on his mouth when you feel overwhelmed in the best way possible. 
“So soft.” Sunghoon mutters in the quiet silence apart from your quiet pants and his mouth working your nipple. He grips your breasts and pushes them together as if to admire your naked chest with you watching him. 
“Hoonie—”
“I need to taste you.” He licks between both nipples and speaks as if he’s read your mind just by looking at you. “Can I? Please?” 
To be yearned like this feels like it could’ve been a blessing from above. Sunghoon looks at you with determination when you nod and you watch him sink further down your body with his hands following in his wake. In the quiet of his room, the bedsheets rustle underneath you when he beckons you to sit back against the pillows at the top of his bed. His warm and heavy breaths touch your thighs when he hooks his fingers around your shorts and pulls them down along with your panties. He hums when he pulls them off of you completely and looks directly between your legs, bringing both of his palms to feel your smooth legs until they come to grip your inner thighs. 
His electric touch is a spark you cannot seem to run away from. You feel completely frozen underneath his stare but you can’t bring yourself to shy away from his touch or sink deeper within yourself. Something about the man before you brings out the desires and needs you keep locked away, tucked inside the smallest cupboard in the back of your mind with the key long gone. But somehow, Sunghoon has paved his own way and brought you to your knees with a single kiss.
Sunghoon kisses your inner thighs, his pillowy lips leaving traces of cool spit onto your hot skin. His slow, soft pace is the kind of patience you wish for yourself. You love how kind and gentle he is when he’s with you and he never pushes you farther than your own capacity. He lets you set the tone and lead him wherever you choose to go, and his delicate touches with your body completely bare before him makes you think love and sex can be just as powerful as everyone says it is. When Sunghoon’s mouth comes to pass your core, he kisses the middle of your slit and savors the way your lap moves against him. 
“You feel so good.” He mutters against your other thigh like he’s saying a prayer. “So pliant for me.” Sunghoon nips at the juncture and smiles to himself when you gasp before returning to your mound, his left hand caressing your thigh while his other brings his thumb to knick at your hardened, aroused nub. 
“Sunghoon, I can’t…”
“Can’t what, baby?” 
“I can’t wait anymore.” When Sunghoon looks up at you, he sees the lust by the way your mouth parts just slightly ajar and how your chest rises and falls in anticipation. Who is he to deny you of your pleasure? 
Without another word, Sunghoon closes his eyes and sticks his tongue out to lick a fat stripe up your folds. Your moans are like music to his ears and he swears he could bottle it up and keep it shelved for days. The way you taste covers the surface of his wet muscle and he hums right into your core the more his mouth explores your aroused hole, poking the tip inside of you with every other swipe of his tongue just to tease you. 
“Ah, ahh!” Sunghoon loves hearing the way you whine underneath him and moans in appreciation when you roll your hips against his face because of him. It motivates him to move his head against you too, angling his face to lick every every single part of you. 
Your hands find themselves gripping your naked breasts in an attempt to ground yourself as your chest becomes one with the ceiling the more you arch your back. Sunghoon’s hands come to hold your waist and keep your legs spread before him before you can even think about falling back onto the bed. His touch is magnetic and you don’t think you’ve ever been so desperate to be touched by anyone before him. 
He lets your body fall and decides to give your legs a break since they’ve been spread out for him for so long. Your hips thank him when he lifts them both into the air and temporarily separates himself from your core to look at you like this. Sunghoon rises to kneel before you and his saliva leaves a string of spit when he detaches from your swollen folds. 
“Your pussy is so pretty.” Sunghoon stares intently at your glistening core and he’s mesmerized by the way you clench at his praise. He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs your sensitive nub and smears your wetness around your folds, his other hand holding your legs up for you. “I can’t believe you deprived me of it for so long. 
“I wanna cum,” you moan selfishly when he sticks two of his fingers inside. Your smooth walls engulf his digits and your arousal splashes around the more he pumps them in and out of you. 
“My baby wants to cum?” he asks rhetorically, thrusting his fingers rapidly while your hands come to steady your legs in the air the way he’s been holding you. “You deserve to cum, baby. Let me make you feel good. Shit, yeah, squeeze my fingers just like that.”
“I-I can’t hold it!” 
“Cum right now or I’ll stop fucking you.”
As if a dam’s protective guard had shattered into a million pieces, Sunghoon’s command tips you over the edge and you release around his fingers. Your mind feels dizzy with the nonstop pleasure he’s been giving you and the way his fingers reach the deepest parts within you the more he angles himself on top of your body. His soft praises of a job well done sink into your chest the more he speaks. The sight of his toned biceps moving with every pass of your pussy makes you clench and push your orgasm out around his fingers. Sunghoon smiles wickedly at your mound the more you cream around his fingers and only stops pumping himself when your pussy squeezes him out. He brings his hand to his mouth and wraps them around his digits. 
“Mm,” he hums, closing his eyes and letting his shoulders drop. You peek at his lap and see his fully hardened cock tenting in his pants. The impressive size stares back at you like it’s daring you to take a peek. Sunghoon licks his fingers clean and catches you staring at his dick when he opens his eyes, but your lustful gaze only fuels his arousal. He leaks in his boxers and feels the precum soak the fabric. 
“You taste so fucking good.”
“Really?” Sunghoon grips your legs gently and settles them back down onto the mattress, soothing your sore thighs with his palms as he lightly massages your skin. He bends down to lick you one more time.
“Best pussy I’ve ever tasted. I could die between your legs.” 
“Sunghoon.” 
“I’m being serious.” 
He watches your hole when he pulls his pants and boxers down below his balls until his cock springs out and bounces in your presence. He’s big and girthy, just like you’d imagined the first time you saw the outline of his dick in his pants one morning. Sunghoon wraps his palm around his length and gives himself an experimental squeeze, hissing at the warm contact before tilting his head to spit on the head before stroking himself. The wet sound makes your core jolt in excitement. He watches you looking at him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth with an expression so determined that it makes him laugh from above you. 
“Eager for me?” You look up but you don’t answer him. “I’m always so fucking hard for you but I didn’t want to scare you away. You wore this long black dress that made your body look like sin a while back. I think about what your ass looked like in that dress from time to time.” 
Your brows furrow in confusion. “I haven’t worn that dress in so long…that was before we met.”
“Yeah,” he confesses, twisting his wrist against himself before pinching the tip. “Thought you were cute back then.” 
“Why didn’t you say anything?” He stops stroking himself and kicks off the rest of his clothing before settling back between your stomach and cups your jawline with his hand. The way he looks at you is pure and nearly cliché, like the two of you might as well be the lead roles in a romance film. His warm, brown eyes bore into yours and you can’t say you don’t love it when he looks at you like this. 
“I didn’t want to get too attached to anything or anyone because I knew I had to go back home. I kept telling myself I wouldn’t do anything unless something gave me a reason to talk to you, and then we ran into each other with Jake’s ugly sweater.” 
You cheeks head up. “I forgot about that.” 
He kisses your lips once. “You looked so cute in it.”
“I look atrocious, Hoonie. It’s okay, it’s called an ugly sweater for a reason.”
“You could wear a trash bag and make it look fashionable.” 
“That’s a bit of a stretch, but I appreciate your faith in me.” Sunghoon kisses the tip of your nose. When he moves, you feel his bare cock resting against your folds and push your hips to meet him. His cock slots between them and Sunghoon hums when you grind against him, holding one of your hips steady. 
“Make me wet, baby.” Sunghoon kisses your jawline and his wet lips leave a cool trail on your skin the more you grind against him. “Make my cock wet enough to fuck you.” 
“Shit, shit…”
“Feels good, yeah?”
“So good,” you whisper. He kisses just beneath your earlobe and puckers his lips until he sucks the skin underneath. The tip of his cock catches your clit with every other pass and Sunghoon drinks up your moans like it’s water. 
“You’re gonna be a good girl and let me stick it in, right? You want my cock just as badly as I want your pussy, don’t you?” 
“You’re so fucking good at this.” He chuckles and his warm breath against your ear makes you shiver.
“Good at what, babe?”
“Talking. Touching me, fuck…everything.”
He drags his nose across your neck to the other side. “You deserve to feel good. You’ve been running around all over Seoul with no one to take care of you but me.” 
“Can’t believe I want you this much.” Without disrupting the position, Sunghoon reaches between your bodies and angles his cock until it breaches your hole with just his tip. It pulls a gasp out of you and Sunghoon lifts his head to watch your face morph in pleasure with your mouth open slightly ajar and eyes almost squinting in disbelief. 
“You don't even know the half of it. I want all of you all the time.” He pushes another inch inside of you. “I want to mold your pussy to the shape of my cock to the point that nobody else can fuck you as good as I can.” 
You grip onto his biceps. “F-Fuck.”
“I want to be the only person you look for. I don’t care how long it takes me to come back, but I’m not leaving you behind. I want you. Only you.” 
The feeling you get when you’re with him makes your chest feel tight with love and admiration the more Sunghoon looks at you like you’re the object of his affection, as if you’re something he cannot live without. You didn’t know that love could feel like an accumulation of every happy memory replaying in your head simultaneously. This newfound overwhelming sensation makes you feel like there isn’t anything you can’t face, as long as you face them with Sunghoon. 
He, on the other hand, finally understands why people talk about finding a home within another person. He’d never given second thought to romance when he knew that his life was planned out for him since he was born and never once thought that he’d get to make decisions on his own about his feelings when his entire livelihood is surrounded by order and duty. But here you are, lying so beautiful underneath him like a mosaic built from colorful stained glass with the sun peeking through it. You look like a dream with your face so pretty the more he pushes into you until he’s buried himself to his full capacity. 
Neither of you have ever had sex like this, so pure and raw with your bodies in tune with one another. It feels like the two of you exist beyond space and time with the way your breathing intensifies the more Sunghoon pulls out from you just to push right back inside. The intensity that permeates around his bedroom makes your breath run short and it fuels Sunghoon to keep a slow and steady rhythm, allowing his cock to reach the deepest parts within you without pushing you too fast. The whole affair is erotic and what can only be described as lovemaking. Sunghoon watches your eyes squeeze shut below him and brings a hand to push the stray hair away from your face. He thinks the two of you must’ve been fated in every universe for him to find, because there is not a single person he could ever imagine loving more than you. 
“I’ll fuck you every single day if you let me,” Sunghoon mutters against your neck. He pulls his body up and places both palms on either side of your body before rolling his hips back. The new angle pushes him in a way that makes you moan loudly. 
“Fuck, Sunghoon.” 
“My baby’s so fucking pretty when she’s filled with my cock. Do you love this as much as I do?” 
“Yes!”
“Do you love me as much as I love you?”
You don’t hesitate to answer him. 
“I love you. I want you here forever.” 
“I can give you forever. I swear on it.” 
He pistons his hips until the audible sound of his pelvis smacking against yours becomes the loudest sound in the room. His balls slap against your ass when you wrap your legs around his waist until he drops to his elbows to catch you and squeeze your body when you clench around him. He tucks himself into your neck and his forehead feels warm and sweaty to the touch, but you can’t say that you don’t love how much he’s putting his body–and yours–through the ringer just to make you cum as many times as he possibly can. 
None of this feels real. Sunghoon might as well be a figment of your imagination because it seemed impossible for sex to feel as good as he’s making you feel. All of your concerns about the future don’t exist when he’s bringing you closer and closer to your second orgasm. He, too, pushes all of his unwanted thoughts away in favor of helping you chase your release. Sunghoon’s determined to show you just how much he loves you by any means possible, and if his words of conviction won’t do him justice, he hopes his body will. 
It’s uncanny the way you feel completely safe around Sunghoon, when no one else has ever made you close to feeling the way you do with you. You’re able to break right before his very eyes and pick yourself off of the floor without feeling ashamed to have insecure and unwanted feelings about love and your attitude surrounding happenstances. You live your life based on the principle that everything happens for a reason and that people come and go but lessons will always stick with you. The people who live as ghosts in your past serve as reminders of painful memories and people who were never supposed to be here for very long, and you pray to the Heavens that Sunghoon is somebody meant to be in your life until forever comes to an end. 
Sunghoon holds himself off until he feels you unravel around him by the way you cling onto his body and clench around his cock. He brings his lips to yours and roughly pushes against your swollen ones when he feels you coming undone and allows himself to follow your lead. His cum fills you with thick, white ropes and oozes out from around him when your pussy can’t hold it in anymore. Sunghoon slows his pace down the more you try to catch your breath in an attempt to help you ride out your orgasm without overwhelming you too much. The squelches keep him semi-hard and your lips taste exactly like his favorite memory. 
“My good girl,” he whispers. “So sexy when you cum.” 
“You’re one to talk. You look like fucking Adonis right now.” 
Sunghoon laughs and kisses your forehead. “You flatter me too much.” 
“Nuh uh. I’m telling you the truth. It’s a little unfair how you always look so good, even when you aren’t trying.” 
“You’re one to talk.” He kisses your lips. “You always look so…cute.”
“Just cute?” 
“Pretty, too.” 
“Only pretty?” Sungoon smacks your outer thigh. 
“You are very beautiful and I’m enamored with you.” 
That makes you blush. “Hoon.” 
“What? Can’t a guy proclaim his love anymore?” 
Sunghoon’s body is warm against yours and he looks down at you with a fond smile in a way you always hoped somebody would. His dark eyes feel warm from above you and something about the way he’s watching you doesn’t make you feel observed. Rather, you feel a blooming warmth within your chest and nuzzle into his touch when he brings his hand to cup your face and rub the apple of your cheek. Sunghoon is gentle with his touch and you find it unbelievable that he’s managed to squeeze his way into your comfort zone as successfully as he had. You love his touch. You crave it, even.
His smile widens when you kiss the underside of his hand with a sweet peck and tilts his head in amusement. You feel bashful when Sunghoon looks at you like this because it feels reminiscent of having a crush in your childhood years, but with him, you can’t find that you dislike the way that you feel. His palm is warm and comforting, especially after spending so much time putting your body through physical rigor in ways you’ve never experienced. His strength never ceases to impress you and the nights you’ve spent picturing yourself underneath him suddenly have merit to them now. 
You find yourself breaking your own character when you lift your head up to push Sunghoon’s lips against yours and his response is immediate. Sunghoon’s plush lips melt right into yours and he slots himself against you like he was always supposed to be there, letting your head lie against the bed while his arm holds your waist. Everything about Sunghoon makes you wonder if love is supposed to feel like a quiet hug amidst a rainstorm, or if it’s supposed to feel like the crescendo in a brilliant symphonic masterpiece. Perhaps it’s a combination of both or none at all. These deep feelings you have for him have never been brought out by anyone before him. 
Sunghoon must know what you’re thinking because his hand travels up your body and back to your hair, gently scraping your scalp with his blunt fingertips. It feels so good to be loved and doted on like this without feeling like you don’t deserve to find an ounce of happiness with somebody who tells you they love you. Years of running away from the feeling of a comfortable embrace melts away with every second that passes with your lips on Sunghoon’s. He feels like every bit of home you’ve spent your whole life yearning for. 
“What are you thinking about?” His question pulls you out of your thoughts and you can’t find it in you to lie to him. 
“Is it selfish that I want you to stay?” 
“No, it’s not. I don’t want to leave Seoul either. I don’t want to leave you.”
“It feels like I just got you but now I have to let you go.”
He kisses you. “You don’t have to let me go. I’ll do whatever it takes to convince my parents to let me live the life that I want. Our trip to your hometown made me realize there’s more to life than people’s expectations of me.”  
You bottom lip quivers. “I’m scared that they won’t budge and that you’ll leave. I’m scared that you’re going to move on and leave me here thinking about you.” 
“I’d never.” He shakes his head like it’s a fact. “I could never forget you. I would never even think about moving on from you. I’m scared that somebody’s gonna snatch you up when I’m away.” 
“I’m really in love with you, unfortunately.” Sunghoon nips at your lip and cherishes the way you laugh. He looks away from you for a split second but the soothing touch of his hand feels comforting. He watches you frown for a minute. “I didn’t get you a present.”
“Baby, you’re my present.”
“That was really corny.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” He kisses you once more. “You’re too important for me to give up. I don’t want to let you go.” 
Somehow, you know he’s telling the truth. 
“Does this mean I’m your boyfriend now?”
“You have to ask.”
“Can I be your boyfriend?” 
You silence him with a kiss and when he feels you smiling against him, he has his answer. 
****
comments and reblogs are appreciated! :) x
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nochepsicodelica · 3 months ago
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"Really?" Toji asks, nudging your shoulder to wake you up, when he gets a good look at your back turned to him. His voice is slightly raspy with sleep, low in volume from its lack of use.
"Mm..." you hum in response, eyes shut as you try to ease back into slumber. You're in a curled position, your limbs wrapped around one of your extra pillows.
"Really?" Toji repeats, pawing at your shoulder, again.
"Yes, Toji," you say, quietly, not understanding what he's talking about, but agreeing just so that you can get back to sleep.
"Be serious, ma. Really?"
"What?" You ask, your tone somewhat laced with irritation, now.
It goes quiet for a few seconds, and then out of nowhere you hear the sheets rustling and the bed feels lighter. You're thinking there's no way he's so upset that he's leaving the room to sleep on the couch. He's the one who seemingly didn't want to cuddle, so you made do with what you had and grabbed a pillow.
You're snapped out of your attempt to go back to sleep when you feel your pillow trying to be yanked out of your arms.
"Let go of it," Toji mutters.
"What-" you grunt as you pull back and attempt to keep the pillow in your grasp. "What are you doing? Get back in bed, Toji." You hold on as tight as you can to the pillow that is slowly being torn out of your hands. "You're not gonna like when I let go and you're flung towards the wall."
"And you're not gonna like the punishment you earn if that happens. Let go of the pillow. Now."
You stare Toji down, holding your own against him. You know this isn't all of his strength and that he can easily rip the pillow out of your clutches, if he really wanted to, but like a dog with something it shouldn't have in its mouth, you're unwilling to do what he says.
"Listen up, doll, if you don't let go in the next five seconds, you're in for it."
"You're the one who pushed me away."
"Five."
"I need to hug something to sleep comfortably."
"Four."
"It's a pillow, Toji," you say, incredulously.
"Three."
"You're gonna take away my source of comfort?"
"Two."
"Toji."
"One. Let go."
"Oh my god," you groan, irritatedly. "Fine." You release the pillow, allowing Toji to take it away. You watch in disbelief as he throws it at the door so you can't get it without leaving the bed. You huff and scoot as close as you comfortably can to your end of the bed without falling off, before he returns to his side.
"Geeet back here." An arm is thrown over your waist, dragging you closer towards the center of the bed, until your back meets his front and his legs are tangled with yours. "Where are you going, huh? Still chasing after that pillow?"
"All of a sudden you wanna be close to me?" You scoff, in disbelief.
"So much attitude," he murmurs. His hand goes under your shirt, gliding up your warm skin to rest on your tummy. "Need me to give it to you all seven days, now?"
"No," you grumble.
"Well, that's what it's sounding like, to me." A kiss is planted on your shoulder. "Fix that tone, mama."
"You're so unfair. You're the one who didn't want to be held, but as soon as you noticed that I wasn't holding you, you took away my source of comfort. What did you want me to do, Toji?"
"I didn't even push you away, I rolled away in my sleep. It doesn't count."
You just hum in response, no longer in the mood to bicker about something so trivial when you could be working on getting back to sleep. A few seconds of silence go by, a spark of tension formed due to your lack of words.
"Ma?" He calls, barely pinching your soft, warm skin.
You sigh, blinking your eyes open. "What?"
"You mad?" His hand flattens on your tummy, rubbing slowly, as he waits for you to respond.
"No," you say, quiet and icy, even in its subtlety.
"That's a lie," Toji says, chuckling. "Come on, doll. What's got you all hot?"
It's hard not to melt into his touch. The kisses he presses to your shoulder only add on to the difficulty.
"Doesn't matter," you say, still trying to remain stoic.
"Yeah, it does. Now, tell me," he insists. "You're really gonna make me beg at almost two in the morning?"
"I was sleeping, and you woke me up 'cause you were butthurt over me hugging a pillow. There. Does that satisfy you?" You respond, and Toji has the audacity to laugh. You want to laugh too, but your stubbornness and pride will not easily allow you to.
"Poor baby," he coos, a mocking lilt to his tone. "You wanna tell me how to make it better?"
"You're an ass," you bite, no sharpness in your tone whatsoever.
"Ooh, I can hear that pout. You want a kiss? 'Cause I can give you one," he whispers, in your ear.
"Shut up," you mumble, trying not to give away the curling of your lips.
"You want a baby in here?" He asks, gently pressing into your stomach with his index finger.
"No! What?" You say, your giggles finally beginning to surface.
"Gotcha. Made you laugh," he says, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. He presses a kiss to the area before squeezing you in his arms, tight enough to make you groan until he eases up. "Now, tell me how to make it better. Come on, ma. It's not good to go to sleep mad."
You sigh, not wanting to argue with this annoying, yet, charming man, anymore. "Just help me get back to sleep," you mumble.
"Oh, I can do that," he says, a low chuckle homing into your ears. His hand lifts your shirt up more, aiming to get more access to your chest.
"Not like that, you perv!" You chide, pinning his hand on your mid-center. "Can you do that thing you always do?" You guide his hand down, until it rests just above your navel. He knows what you mean, and if this is what it takes for you to not be mad at him, he'll do it.
"You're like a baby that needs to be soothed to sleep," Toji murmurs, as he begins caressing your tummy, drawing little shapes on your skin that fuel your tiredness.
You huff out a laugh. "Acting like you don't drool and snore the second I start playing with your hair when you lay your head on my chest."
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star-ocean-peahen · 1 year ago
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After watching Cinderella (the original animated movie, which was my favorite as a child), it strikes me how it solves many common problems people have with this fairy tale. Like:
Why did they try to identify the mystery girl using her shoe size? Because the bullheaded king's only clue to her identity was the shoe the Grand Duke picked up off the steps.
Why didn't the prince recognize her by her face? Because his father wouldn't involve him in the process at all, and wasn't the one going around trying to find her.
Why did the prince want to marry a lady he only met that night? Because his father was going to force him to marry someone, and he genuinely liked this woman.
Why did Cinderella want to marry a man she only met that night? Because marriage was her best and most secure way to freedom. Fucked up, but you can't say it's unrealistic for the setting of a fairy tale. She also genuinely liked him.
If they're using the slipper to find her, wouldn't it be more sensible to search for the person with the other slipper? Yes. The King is purposefully nonsensical and the Duke is purposefully terrified enough of him to carry out his orders to the letter. Furthermore, they end up doing that in the end anyway, because the Duke's glass slipper is shattered, and Cinderella brings out the one she has to prove her identity.
Why didn't the stepmother and stepsisters recognize Cinderella at the ball? Because they were dancing too far away, and then left the party to dance in private, which was possible because the King wanted very badly for his son to hit it off with someone and tried to arrange the best conditions for that to happen.
Why didn't Cinderella save herself? Because in real life, abuse victims should not have to shoulder that responsibility, and usually can't. In real life, you need and deserve an external support system. Asking for help, in this kind of situation, is very important. She is saved by others because she is loved. Because she is not alone. Because she has friends who love her, and want her to be happy and safe and free. Because in real life, people who want to help someone who is suffering are like the mice. We can't pull out miracle solutions, but we can provide companionship and if we're in the right place at the right time, we can help the person find a better life.
Why didn't the fairy godmother save Cinderella from her abusive household, or try to help her sooner? Because she's magic, and magic can't solve your problems. Quote: "Like all dreams, well, I'm afraid it can't last forever." This (and Cinderella's dream of going to the ball) is a metaphor for pleasurable things in bad circumstances. An ice cream won't get rid of your depression, but it will provide you with momentary happiness to bolster you, as well as the reminder that happiness in general is still possible for you. Cinderella doesn't want to go to the ball so she can get away from her stepmother and stepsisters, or so she can meet someone to marry and leave with. She wants to go to the ball to remind herself that she can still have things she wants. That her desires matter. This is important because the movie does a very good job of illustrating Lady Tremaine's subtle abuse tactics, all of which invisibly press the message that Cinderella doesn't matter. While going to the ball and fulfilling her dreams may not be a victory in the material sense, it is still a victory against Lady Tremaine's efforts.
Why is Cinderella's choice to be kind and obedient framed as a good thing, when you are not obligated to be kind to your abuser? This one walks a very fine line, but I think the movie still makes it make sense. Lady Tremaine never acknowledges her cruelty. She always frames her punishments of Cinderella as Cinderella's fault. Cinderella is interrupting, Cinderella is shirking her duties, Cinderella is playing vicious practical jokes. Cinderella is still a member of the family, of course she can go to the ball, provided she meet these impossible conditions. Lady Tremaine's tactics are designed to make Cinderella feel like she must always be in the wrong and her stepmother must always be in the right. If Cinderella calls her stepmother out on her cruelty, or attempts to fight back, Lady Tremaine can frame that as Cinderella being ungrateful, cruel, broken, evil, etc. If Cinderella responds to her stepmother's cruelty defiantly (in the way she's justified to), she's not taking control out of Lady Tremaine's hands. Disobedience can be spun back into her stepmother's control. She wants Cinderella to be angry and sad and show how much she's hurting. So since Cinderella is adapting to her situation, she chooses to be kind. Not only because she naturally wants to be and it's part of her personality, but because it is a form of defiance in its own way, and it allows her to keep a reminder of her agency and value. Her choice to be kind is her chance to keep her own narrative alive: she is not obeying because her stepmother wants her to and she has to do what her stepmother does, but because she wants to. It's a small distinction, but one that makes all the difference in terms of keeping her hope and identity. (Fuck, I wrote a whole paragraph about how this doesn't mean you can't be angry at people who hurt you or that you need to be kind to deserve help, and then deleted it by accident. Uh. Try again.) Expressing anger and pain is an important part of regaining autonomy and healing. Although it is commendable to be kind while you are suffering, it is NOT required for you to get help or be worthy of help. If Cinderella's recovery was explored beyond "happily ever after" she would need to let herself be angry and sad to heal. Cinderella is not only kind because it comes naturally to her, but because it's her defense against the abuse she's suffering. Everyone's story and experiences are different, and one does not invalidate the other.
Bonus round for answers that aren't part of the movie:
Why didn't Cinderella run away? Where would she go? Genuinely, in hundreds-of-years-ago France, where would she go if she snuck out of the window with a change of clothes? With her step-family, she's miserable and abused, but she's fed, clothed, and in no danger of dying or being taken advantage of by anyone other than her stepmother and stepsisters. Even if she escapes and manages to find financial security, her stepmother might be able to find her and get her back.
Why didn't Cinderella burn the house down with them inside it/slit their throats in the night/poison their food/etc.? Because that's a revenge fantasy, and this story is a fantasy about being saved. There's nothing wrong with making Cinderella into a revenge fantasy. That's perfectly fine, as long as you acknowledge that the other type of fantasy is also a valid interpretation. (I mean, the original fairy tale features the stepsisters getting their feet mutilated and all three of them getting their eyes pecked out, so go for it.)
Why isn't Cinderella more proactive in general? Because she's a child who has been abused for the back half of her life, who has had to be focused on survival because. you know. she's an abused kid.
How did she dance in glass slippers? Gotta agree with you there man, that's weird.
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readwritealldayallnight · 4 months ago
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“-other than that, wasn’t so bad.” Simon says, readjusting the material of the balaclava across the bridge of his nose with his free hand. His other hand is busy, keeping yours warm as you lead him down sidewalk after sidewalk.
The two of you have just finished having Sunday morning brunch at a local cafe, something you insisted was becoming ‘tradition’ after the second time it happened. And according to you, after finishing eating, (Simon never wanting to hear a word about you paying for a thing) the next part of this lazy morning routine calls for strolling about at a pace that he would normally find pointless, if not downright frustrating. But for you, he slows down.
“Butcher’s an interesting first job.” You reply, nodding along in thought. You picture a younger Simon, fresh out of school, probably fresh faced as well. He was likely as tall, though not yet as muscular as the military would make him. A meat clever in hand, bloody apron around his waist, he was likely still inadvertently intimidating people back then the way he does now. “I was mostly just taking babysitting jobs until I graduated. Liked it well enough.”
“I actually had to babysit a neighbour one time, when I was younger. Actual baby at tha’ too.” He tells you with a chuckle, slightly shaking his head at the memory.
“What?” You laugh as well, the image in your mind now swapping out the meat clever in a teenaged Simon’s grip for a drooling infant. “How did that work out?”
“Neighbour comes bangin’ on our door, she’s carryin’ the thing, it’s screamin’ its bloody little head off,” You roll your eyes at the way Simon refers to the child, swatting his arm playfully but listening on. “She tells me her husband thinks he’s havin’ a fuckin’ heart attack. None o’ the other neighbours are home or answerin’ the door. ‘Fore I know it, she’s passin’ me the kid, askin’ if mum can watch her while she drives him to the hospital. Next thing I know she’s gone and I’m left with the thing.”
“Oh my gosh! Well where was your mum?” You ask, in disbelief that you’ve never heard this story from him before, half wondering if he’s pulling your leg.
“She wasn’t home, I can tell you that! Only me and the new lil’ orphan were.” He utters, strengthening his grip on your hand as you start to hunch over with laughter.
“Okay so wait, you were home alone? Oh no! How long did you have to ‘babysit’ for?” You giggle.
“Well technically Tommy was there but he would’ve only been a hindrance, told him to stay in his room.” Simon adds, pulling his hand out of yours, only to wrap it around your shoulder, now that you’ve come to a standstill at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. “Fuckin’ nearly 4 hours went by before mum came home and took over. Longest hours o’ my life. I think that might’ve been the day I enlisted actually.”
You elbow his side as you continue to laugh, seeing that he’s teasing you at the end now. You open your mouth to tease him right back, but your eye catches sight of the shop you’ve been standing in front of, jaw dropping wider.
“Simon!” You’re pulling him with a strength he would otherwise be impressed by if he wasn’t so suddenly caught off guard, senses kicking into high alert now as his head swivels in search of the cause of your distress. “How have we never seen this before??”
Oh.
He should’ve known better.
He actually had been avoiding taking you down this street for a little while now, but had been too caught up in his story telling to notice the direction you’d taken in him. His subtle effort of wrapping his arm around you to tilt you away from the storefront obviously hadn’t worked out. He opens his mouth to answer, but can only sigh when you’re already making your way towards the entrance of the pet store.
“We’re only lookin’, right?” He asks loud enough for you to hear as he follows you in.
Wrong.
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enviedear · 22 days ago
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jason todd rarely got upset with you. honestly—a very rare occurrence.
but tonight—as you stumble through the door, giggling to yourself as you struggle with your heels. he definitely gives you a look.
“ohhh, i know that face,” you slur, pointing a wobbly finger at him. “you're mad.” you draw out your last word, ending with a hum.
jason, who's still leaning against the couch with his arms crossed, exhales through his nose. “babe, s'just my face.”
you snort, finally kicking your shoes off with an exaggerated sigh. “my hero,” you murmur dramatically, flopping onto the couch beside him, head immediately landing on his shoulder. “you’re so comfy.”
he shakes his head, amused, as he catches you before you slide all the way down. “how much did you drink?”
you hold up three fingers, then squint, “wait…maybe four?”
“that’s not an answer.”
you wave a dismissive hand. “steph had us do rounds. ‘sides, i’m fine.”
he lets out a low chuckle, warm and fond. “yeah, i can see that.”
you tilt your head up at him, pouting. “why weren’t you there, huh? you coulda kept me from gettin’ so tipsy.”
“because it was girls’ night.”
you gasp, poking at his chest. “you said you wanted to crash next time.”
“i take it back.” a grumble, deep in his chest.
“rude,” you huff, snuggling further into him. “i missed you, though.”
his arm slides around you properly then, pulling you close. “yeah?”
“mhmm,” you hum, pressing a messy kiss to his jaw. “missed my handsome, broody boyfriend.” another kiss, “missed your grumpy face.”
“i’m not grumpy,” he mutters, but he doesn’t stop you, his fingers tracing slow circles against your back.
you nuzzle into him, eyelids drooping. “love you, jay.”
his breath hitches. then his grip on you tightens, lips pressing into your hair, “love you too, drunkard.”
you hum happily, already halfway to sleep in his arms.
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writer's note .☘︎ ݁˖ heavily inspired by my sweet bf taking care of my annoying drunk ass. also because i think everyone wants to go home to a pouty jason todd. there's no way i'm alone here. comments and reblogs appreciated
🖇️ masterlist | askbox | recent works | moodboard for this drabble
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mephisto-reporting · 4 months ago
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Don’t Die on Me
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About: You’re hurt—badly—wounded while shielding him from danger. As he rushes to your side, there’s a shift in his demeanor; he seems different, more vulnerable beneath his usual bravado. Pairing: Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are NOT in a relationship. but there is implied mutual attraction. My inbox is open for prompts and requests :) Content Warning: Angst, injuries, mentions of blood.
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SYLUS
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The sounds of gunfire had finally faded into silence, leaving only the shallow, ragged pull of your breath and the press of Sylus’s hand against your side, trying to stanch the bleeding. You had been hit during the ambush, shielding him from a blast intended for his head—an instinct you couldn't explain, or perhaps didn’t want to.
Sylus's expression was a mask of controlled fury, his jaw clenched as he knelt beside you, his usual cocky, unyielding demeanor giving way to something sharper, darker, and far more personal. He applied pressure to the wound with a fierce intensity, almost as if he could hold you together through sheer force of will alone. His fingers, usually steady and sure, shook faintly against your skin.
“You’re a damn fool,” he muttered, his tone laced with anger and something else—something deeper. “I didn’t need saving. Have you forgotten that I can heal quickly!?.”
You managed a small, pained smile. “Maybe I did it for the fun of watching you panic for once.”
His hand gripped your chin firmly, tilting your face to meet his intense, searching stare. "You really don’t know when to quit, do you, kitten?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it was laced with something raw, something unsteady.
“I thought… I had it under control.” you mumbled, trying for a smile, though even you knew how weak you sounded.
“Under control?” His laugh was short and sharp, a bitter edge in it. “Don’t be ridiculous!” Sylus hissed through gritted teeth, his usual cool facade crumbling. He never panicked—not him, not the man who’d handed you a gun to his own heart just to see if you’d pull the trigger. But right now, he was faltering, his steps uneven as he pulled you closer. His hand, normally so sure, so controlling, was shaking against your side. “You think I wanted you to jump in front of me like that? What were you thinking?”
You tried to catch your breath, his words slipping past you in a haze. You knew the risks of sticking by Sylus, knew that you’d inevitably end up in danger—but you couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. “Had to protect you,” you whispered, voice barely a thread. “I couldn’t... let anything happen to you.”
For a moment, he simply stared at you, his expression caught somewhere between anger and something far softer, something unspoken. “Protect me..?” he repeated, his voice lower, and you could feel the barely-contained fury laced with worry beneath it. He was trying to keep his grip on his composure, but his eyes betrayed him. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he traced the edge of your cheek, the words slipping through clenched teeth. “You’re an idiot, Sweetie. A reckless, stubborn, damnably frustrating idiot.”
His expression twisted, the frustration in his eyes unmistakable, but there was something else too—something vulnerable, barely concealed beneath his usual scowl. You’d seen it before in the softer moments, those times when his hand would linger just a moment too long, or his voice would drop to that rare, gentle murmur. But this was different, more unguarded.
“Sylus…” you whispered, but he cut you off, pressing a hand to your wound. You stifled a gasp as his fingers met the raw injury, his jaw tightening in response, an unexpected flash of helplessness slipping through his mask.
“Quiet,” he muttered, his voice almost breaking. “You don’t get to talk right now.” He ripped off a piece of his sleeve, wrapping it tightly around your shoulder, though his touch was uncharacteristically tender. “This isn’t part of the plan, sweetie. You’re supposed to stay in one piece, just like I ordered.” The usual bite in his voice softened, desperation pooling in his dark gaze.
You chuckled weakly, trying to make light of the situation, but the pain pulled a groan from your lips instead. His expression grew even more intense, the hardness in his eyes melting into a quiet sort of anguish.
“Stop laughing. Stop… smiling like that.” His voice was fraying, edges cracking, a wavering panic he seemed unable to fully control. “You… you have no idea how hard it is not to tear this entire place apart for hurting you.”
The statement caught you off guard, and it must’ve shown in your expression because he let out a shaky breath, his eyes searching yours with a desperation that he’d never let you see before. It was strange to see him so unguarded, the man who played god in the N109 Zone suddenly grappling with the possibility of losing you.
The corner of his mouth twisted, and he tried for his usual smirk, but it faltered. “What would I do without you, hmm? My little hunter, so brave and foolish…” His words softened, and he lifted you as if you weighed nothing, holding you securely against him as he continued on, urgency in every step. “You’re mine, kitten,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “And I don’t let go of what’s mine.”
You managed to laugh, the sound weak but genuine. “Then… don’t let go,” you whispered. “Sylus…” Your voice was weak, your head spinning, but you reached up, brushing your fingers along the sharp edge of his jaw. His expression softened, his lips pressing into a thin line as he leaned closer.
“You’re… more trouble than you’re worth, you know that?” he whispered, his voice breaking the slightest bit, but he forced a smirk, trying to hold onto his usual bravado.
“Guess I… picked it up from you,” you murmured, your vision growing hazy, but the warmth of his hand grounding you.
His grip tightened, and his lips brushed your temple, an unspoken promise lingering in the gesture. For once, Sylus seemed stripped of his dominance, his bravado washed away by the raw fear of watching you slip away. His hands shook as he held you, his mask cracking with every ragged breath you took. The man who’d taunted and tested you now held you like you were something precious, something irreplaceable.
“Hold on, Sweetie… just a little longer.” he said fiercely, and in his voice, you heard something you never expected from him—fear. “I won’t let anything or anyone take you from me.”
XAVIER
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Xavier’s arm is tight around you, steady even as he fights his own injuries. The blood trails hot down your side, and you can barely see it through the blurred edges of your vision, a dark stain spreading across your suit. Xavier’s face, usually a mask of quiet calm, is set hard with a sharpness that you rarely see. Xavier's hands, usually steady and almost uncaring, were shaking as he tried to press down on the wound at your side. You'd taken the hit for him, jumping between him and that blasted Wanderer with a split-second of hesitation—or none at all. He hadn’t expected it. Neither had you.
Blood soaked through his fingers as he crouched beside you, his face tight with a look you’d never seen. Fear, maybe—though he wouldn’t admit it.
"Why... did you do that?" His voice was low, but it felt like he was questioning the universe itself. His usually calm tone was laced with an edge that made you dizzy or maybe it was the blood loss, hard to tell.
“Instinct…?” you murmured, managing a weak smirk despite the pain slicing through you. “I know, I was a bit reckless.”
“Reckless isn’t... you bleeding out on this floor,” he muttered, pressing harder against the wound, a little too hard, but you didn’t have the strength to complain. “You should have left me to handle it.” His gaze softened when you winced, and he pulled his hand back, immediately brushing away the edge of guilt. Yet the blood still glistened darkly on his fingertips, his gloves, on the floor where you lay.
“It would’ve been worse if it got you,” you mutter, trying to summon even a hint of humor, though the attempt falls flat against the pain.
Xavier doesn’t laugh. Instead, he looks at you, and the deep space void reflected in his eyes almost draws you in. That familiar aloofness fades, and for a brief moment, his concern seeps through, raw and achingly close. He shifts his weight to press you more securely against him, his free hand gently adjusting the strap of your gear as if every second counts in keeping you here, anchored.
“Look,” you managed, reaching up, even if it took everything in you to keep your voice steady, “you’d do the same for me.”
Xavier’s mouth set in a thin line. You’d hit a nerve, that much was clear. Despite the unspoken rule between you two—the sidelong glances, the unsaid things—he wouldn’t entertain the possibility that he would have let you get injured in this manner on his watch.
“You don’t know what I’d do,” he replied, his voice just above a whisper. His words held a weight you hadn’t expected, making you look at him closely even as the edges of your vision began to fade. “And you won’t have to, because I'm getting you out of here.”
He hoisted you up, careful, gentle, though he flinched when you sucked in a breath from the pain. He started forward, one arm cradling you as he moved you through the wreckage of the battle toward the shelter of the shuttle. It was strange, seeing Xavier so unguarded, every step almost too fast as though he feared stopping would break you.
“Stay with me,” he whispers, voice low. You feel his breath, close enough to count heartbeats, to wonder if his pulse is racing like yours. The space between you feels impossibly small, and the silence stretches, vulnerable, bare.
You manage a faint smile, fingers brushing his, a silent reassurance even as the sharp ache of your wounds thrums persistently in your bones. “You know, if I’d known I’d end up leaning on you like this, I’d have come up with something... cleverer to say.”
To your surprise, he huffs a small laugh, his gaze softening. “You always talk,” he murmurs, with a hint of that familiar, boyish charm, though it’s laced with worry now. “Save your strength. I’ll get us out of here.”
You felt yourself drifting, and his voice brought you back.
“Hey,” he said, tightening his hold. “Stay awake. I can’t have you falling asleep on me now—I'm the one who does that, remember?”
His humor was strained, like he was grasping at something familiar to keep himself steady. You let out a soft chuckle, the sound weaker than you meant it to be. “Guess we’re trading roles today.”
There was a moment, somewhere between one step and the next, where he stopped. He looked down at you, his gaze intense. For once, his expression was completely open—his worry and something warmer simmering just beneath.
“I can’t lose you,” he murmured, voice barely audible. “Not here. Not now. Not ever.”
You felt a wave of heat rise within, one that made the pain more bearable, somehow grounding. Before you could respond, he resumed his pace, carrying you as if you were the most precious thing in the galaxy.
The world swayed, darkness creeping at the edges of your vision, but you forced yourself to focus on him, on the boyish charm that hid beneath his cool exterior. “Xavier,” you rasped, “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”
“Just keep looking at me,” he replied, his voice steady. “We’ll get through this together. You and me.”
In the quiet of the shuttle, as he set you down and the medics began patching you up, you felt his hand graze your cheek, lingering just a little too long. You dared to meet his gaze, and for once, Xavier’s eyes didn’t look away. They softened, and the smallest hint of a smile touched his lips.
“Next time,” he said, voice warm with unspoken promise, “let me protect you.”
RAFAYEL
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The harsh winds of the remote village howled around you as Rafayel’s face loomed over you, more serious than you’d ever seen it. You hadn’t intended for things to get this bad, but the ambush from the Wanderer had been swift and brutal, and you’d thrown yourself between its claws and Rafayel without a second thought. A mistake, maybe—though you could hardly think of it as a mistake, even now, lying on the cold, unforgiving ground with blood soaking your side.
“Damn it, stop being so heavy,” Rafayel muttered, though his voice trembled, barely hiding the edge of panic. You glanced up, expecting his usual smirk, his smug teasing, something bratty, but his face was blank—frustrated, pale, and determined in a way you’d never seen.
“S-sorry to inconvenience you,” you managed through the haze of pain, trying to keep it light. “But I think I lost quite a bit of blood back there.”
Rafayel’s usual smug charm was gone. His carefree expression had twisted into something you couldn’t place—anger, worry, a flicker of panic as he knelt down beside you. He pressed his hands over the wound, and though it was uncharacteristic, there was no teasing, no insults, just an almost frightening intensity. “You… Why did you do that?” he demanded, his voice low and jagged, as though the question alone might tear him apart. “Do you think I’m some helpless damsel? You could have been killed.”
Your breath hitched, and you were grateful that it could just as easily be the pain causing it. Still, you shrugged, or tried to, but your body had other ideas, and you stumbled. Rafayel caught you, his arm firm around your waist as he steadied you. You managed a weak smirk, though the effort cost you. “Guess… I wanted to make myself useful as a bodyguard, for once,” you rasped, feeling the humor fall flat even as you said it.
“Useful?” His eyes, normally filled with a cocky gleam, were sharp with frustration. “Throwing yourself in harm’s way is your idea of useful?” He gave a dry, humorless laugh, his hands applying pressure that made you wince, though he didn’t seem to notice. “You’re dumber than I thought. The one time I actually need you to stay out of my way, and you—” He broke off, swallowing hard, his fingers trembling ever so slightly against you.
“Don’t… act like you care now, Rafayel,” you murmured, half-teasing, though the words came out weaker than you meant.
His face twisted, and you saw a flash of something in his eyes that you hadn’t expected—hurt, genuine and raw, like you’d struck a nerve. “Idiot,” he whispered, and his tone was so low it was almost drowned out by the wind. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“Get… what?” You were slipping a little, your vision swimming, but you caught his gaze, and for the first time, you saw past his bratty facade to something deeper. He took a breath, his jaw set in determination, and then he did something you never expected: he carefully scooped you into his arms, his hold gentle yet fiercely protective.
“Stay awake, all right? I can’t have you passing out on me,” he ordered, though his voice had lost its usual bite. His words were soft, desperate, as he moved through the bleak landscape, carrying you with a carefulness that belied everything he usually projected. For a long moment, you stared at him, the pain numbing under the intensity in his gaze. This wasn’t the bratty, arrogant god who’d dragged you into mess after mess. This was someone else—someone who, behind the charm and teasing, was scared. For you.
"Idiot," he muttered, his words a tangled mess of relief and frustration. “Why would you do that?” He repeated.
And you almost laughed, wincing through the pain, because wasn’t it obvious?
“Because… I care,” you murmured, voice barely a whisper. It was the closest you’d come to admitting the truth—to saying what had long hovered between the two of you, unspoken, stubbornly denied.
"Just shut up for once,” he whispered, his voice strained, almost a plea. “You don’t… you don’t know what it’s like.” His arms tightened around you, as if holding you close could somehow protect you from the damage already done. “You… throwing yourself in front of me like that—do you have any idea how reckless that was? I didn’t need you to… risk yourself.”
“Couldn’t let the prince of the art world get scratched up… on my watch,” you said, trying to maintain your humor.
Rafayel glanced down, his usual piercing eyes softening, his expression raw. “If you’d died, I wouldn’t…” He paused, his gaze slipping away, the words seemingly caught in his throat. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” he finished, barely audible.
You managed to brush a finger along his wrist, grounding yourself, anchoring him to you. “You’ll… still have the sea. And everyone to charm.”
For once, he didn’t laugh. Instead, he looked down at you, and his eyes were so intense, so filled with something you’d never seen before. “None of that matters,” he murmured, his voice raw. He shifted, his hand grazing your cheek, lingering there for a moment too long. “Stay awake,” he commanded, a note of urgency threading through his tone. “You can’t just pass out on me. Not like this.”
You blinked up at him, the sunlight filtering through the clouds casting a warm glow around his figure. “Not… gonna pass out,” you whispered, though it felt like a lie even to your own ears. You could see the worry etched across his handsome face, something raw and unfiltered. “You need me for your—”
“Stop it!” he snapped, but there was no bite in his voice, only a desperate plea. “You don’t get to joke around right now. Not when you’re bleeding out.”
“Rafayel…” you began, but he cut you off, a flicker of his old bravado returning.
“Save your strength,” he snapped, though the edge was softened by concern. “I’ll get you out of here, but you have to stay awake. Don’t you dare fall asleep on me!”
“I’m not going anywhere,” you managed to murmur, your vision dimming as the waves of unconsciousness tugged at the edges of your mind. “Not without you.”
“Good,” he replied, and his voice was fierce and unyielding. “Stay alive,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, eyes dark with something he couldn’t bring himself to name. “For me.”
ZAYNE
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The world felt hazy around you, pain ebbing in and out of your awareness as Zayne held you steady, his hands pressing firmly yet gently against the wound on your side. Blood smeared across his fingertips, but he kept his touch steady, calculating, his focus a perfect picture of surgical precision.
“Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice level, his eyes fixed on you with a fierce intensity. “I need you to keep talking. Tell me if you’re feeling dizzy or lightheaded, alright?”
You managed a faint smile, ignoring the way your own breaths came shallow and broken. “You’re… really good at this,” you tried to joke, but Zayne only shook his head, lips pressing into a thin line. “You should become a doctor...”
“Don’t push yourself to talk. You’ve taken a nasty hit here.” His voice was calm, almost clinical, but you could see the strain in his jaw, the telltale flicker of worry in his eyes. His hands, however, were as steady as ever, working methodically as he inspected the wound, gauging the damage with the supplies he always seemed to have at hand.
“Think of it this way," he continued softly, his calm tone soothing despite the urgency of the situation. "The wound isn’t too bad—lucky hit. If we keep steady pressure on it, there shouldn’t be significant blood loss. You’ll be fine. But you have to focus on breathing for me, alright?”
He was explaining everything, his voice filling the air like a familiar, grounding hum. His hands, wrapped around the fabric of his jacket pressed to your side, were warm, almost protective. You could feel the faint tremor in his fingertips, but he moved with absolute control, unwilling to show even a hint of panic. His gaze flicked up to yours for a moment, his expression softening despite the tension in his features.
“I warned you about being reckless,” he muttered, his tone more of a gentle chide than anything else. “But it’s not the first time, is it?” The slight quirk of his lips, a half-hearted attempt at a smile, almost made you forget the pain. Almost.
“Couldn’t let you get hurt,” you whispered, fighting to keep your voice steady.
“Hold still,” he ordered softly, his voice low and steady as he worked to stop the bleeding. His fingers were meticulous, his hands steady, despite the fear you could feel radiating from him. He couldn’t afford to let it show, so he did what he knew best: he relied on the calm, clinical precision that had carried him through countless surgeries. "The wound's not fatal, but you’re going to need stitches. I’d say you’ve torn through the muscle here by… at least an inch or two.” He let out a breath through gritted teeth, looking pointedly into your eyes. “I can’t believe you tried to shield me from that Wanderer."
Despite his calm, you could see the fear in his eyes—the same fear that betrayed itself in the tension of his jaw, in the way his hands lingered just a moment too long against your skin, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.
As he applied pressure to your wound, his tone softened, more to himself than to you. “You’re lucky you didn’t rupture an artery,” he said, hands deftly inspecting the injury with precise, practiced movements. “If this were any worse… I’d be looking at a very different situation right now.” His voice wavered on that last note, but his hands stayed steady, not allowing a single tremor to betray him.
“You’re going to be fine, I’m going to make sure of that.” He glanced down at you, his gaze holding an intensity that went beyond the practiced care of a surgeon. “You’re not allowed to play the hero, you know?. And if you’re trying to impress me… then I’d say you’re not required to be reckless for it.”
“Zayne…” you murmured, feeling the darkness pressing in at the edges of your vision.
“Keep those eyes open,” he whispered, his fingers gently brushing your cheek, grounding you in the warmth of his touch. “Stay with me. I’ll… I’ll get you out of here. But I need you to focus.” His thumb gently stroked your temple, his touch tender yet steady as he leaned close, his forehead resting lightly against yours, just for a second, as if grounding himself, too.
You managed a faint smile. “Didn’t know you were the boss of me, doc.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t look up. “Believe it or not, I have plenty of experience bossing you around.” He kept talking, his voice low and clinical, grounding you in the familiar, steady cadence
“You always said I was a terrible listener.” Your voice softened as you felt his hand linger, his thumb grazing your skin in a gesture far more affectionate than necessary.
“This isn’t funny.” He met your gaze then, a look so intense it stole the breath from your lungs. “Breathe,” he instructed, his voice calm and steady, despite the chaos swirling around you.
You could see the fear lurking in his dark eyes, a stark contrast to his composed demeanor. But it didn’t matter; his touch was methodical, reassuring, his fingers steady as they pressed against the injury.
“Zayne… the others—”
“Forget them.” His voice was firm, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of panic as they darted around the shop, assessing the situation even as he tended to you. “I need you to focus on me. You’re the priority right now.”
You could feel the warmth of his hand against your side, but it was not enough to push away the chill creeping into your bones. “But—”
“Enough.” He pressed down harder, and you gasped, but he didn’t relent, his expression shifting to one of fierce determination. “You can’t help anyone if you bleed out here. So please, stay with me.”
The adrenaline coursing through your veins faltered, and all you could think about was how you had protected him—how you had jumped in front of the danger without a second thought. The sight of him, typically unflappable, now uncharacteristically tense, pulled at your heart.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, barely able to form the words.
He shook his head, an intensity burning in his gaze. “Don’t. You’re not allowed to apologize. Not when you’re the one lying here, bleeding out for me.” He brushed a damp strand of hair from your forehead, his touch lingering. “I’m not letting you leave me. You hear me? We still have so much left to do together.”
You could feel the world slipping away, darkness creeping into your vision, but his voice anchored you. “Hey… Don’t let go.” he murmured, using the nickname he reserved for the most intimate moments. “I won’t let anything happen to you, not again.”
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AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!
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