#Enjoy your Christmas Wish!

[irisdairy]

Merry Christmas!

[raplinenthusiasts]

PERFORMANCE UNIT PANTONE

for @dojaejung 🖤

[theanonymousninja247]

Pretty Random Turtle Thunks:

Christmas Gifts

Just some silly HC ideas on what I would get the Bayverse Boys for Christmas with all the money I got from working overtime during the holidays:

(for all the folks who do overtime in any form or fashion, y'all are my heroes. Thank you 🙏🏼🧡🫡)

Rating: Milk (This one’s for everyone!)

Leo: Cordless Vaccum with Additional Brushes

Hear me out. HC Leo has pretty bad OCD/ Anxiety. (feel free to ask me questions on why I think this; short story, man folds his arms and does his little nervous foot-tapping dance thing) It doesn't necessarily always look like that because he's worked on shoving it so far down (the emotionally constipated turtle he is) that its one of the reasons he can tend to be a bit…well…high strung. All that chaos, the responsibility, the weight that is contained his mind can be a bit maddening and one of the ways he works through it or tries to redirect that nervous energy is through cleaning. It gives him something he can do and see an immediate result to. Leo’s also a meticulous perfectionist, so what better to get him for Christmas than something that will allow him to clean every nook and cranny he can without being hindered; finally putting that pent up energy into something useful. Clean, orderly, and sensible. Because even if the rest of the world is crazy, doesn't mean his mind or his home should be. Well…or at the very least his room. Everything in place as all good things should be. At least that how it feels being with you 😉💙

Donnie: Hand Massager

Something cheesy I know I know. But think about it. Donnie has spent practically his entire life building gadgets and gizmos that help other people. Sure, there's the occasional more specific stuff for him and his brothers, but I don't think he really thinks all that much about building stuff to specifically help himself. You know this turtle gets on that one track mindset waaaaay too often and struggles with taking care of himself. Especially his hands. His hands are his livelihood. His chance to express himself when sometimes emotions and words cannot. I just think Donnie deserves a little break and to put some TLC into the hands that so often reach out to others. Donnie deserves to know that he's worth taking care of himself too. And the best part is if he doesn't like it, he can always tinker with it to make it better. Because that's what Donnie does, makes the world better by being himself and of course, being with you. 😉💜

Raph: Minky Couture Blanket

A blanket? Really? I know what y'all are thinking but hear me out. Raph is a our big boy. The protector. The muscle. The hard headed bruiser who's always on the front lines taking every hit so his family and the rest of the world doesn't have to. He takes the hits because he knows he can handle it and give it right back. That's what he's good at, and he's proud of it. But its not easy. It hurts. And I imagine it can get rather exhausting. Sometimes I think Raph forgets that his heart is a muscle too and it needs to be taken care of just like the rest of the muscles that he puts so much effort into. These blankets are by far the softest that I have EVER had the privilege of touching. Silky smooth to the the touch AND THEY CAN COME WEIGHTED TOO! I think Raph deserves something warm and soft (I HC that he's super touch and texture sensitive) to come home to after fighting in this cold hard world. (A blanket will do. At least until he has you 😉❤️)

Mikey: Thyme and Table Black and Gold Cookset

I’ve always loved the thought that Mikey was the biggest foodie in the family which honestly makes sense. Because what better way to bring people together, no matter who they are, than the ultimate connector that is the love of food? Mikey loves people and he loves expressing himself. What better way than doing that through magic that is cooking?! I want to get him this set because it looks super classy (and I think Mikey needs a reminder every once in a while that he can be cool and chic just like the rest of his bros. That he isn't always just the goof and the brunt of the joke) Mikey, like anything in black and gold, is a statement piece that deserves his own chance to shine! Also with it being speckled, it looks clean while being dirty too. The mess in a masterpiece if you will.

Just like our Mikey!

And you bet your bottom dollar that he is gonna to LOVE trying to make some magic for you😉🧡

Splinter: Lego Tranquil Garden

Splinter is a part of this family and deserves something nice too! My favorite thing is surprising older folks with something considered “childish” and watching them have a chance to explore their inner child once again. Not to mention these lego sets are basically just 3D puzzles and old folks love puzzles! Because puzzles are just workouts for the brain! (at least that's what my grandma keeps telling me) And I think Master Splinter would like to have something fun to work on while his boys are always out saving the world. You know, a little piece of serenity that never fades away (because plastic is eternal and what not) in the crazy world that he gets to call home with his sons. 🤎

[captainsavre]

[theflyingfeeling]

💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖

Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝

The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️

For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3

.

PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!

~

Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia. 

Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).

Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)

The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.

Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.

You awake?

Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.

He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him. 

“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”

“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him. 

Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.

“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”

A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.

“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.

“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.

“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”

Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.

“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”

“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.

“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”

Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet. 

“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.

“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”

“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.

The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.

“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.

He had to steel himself for his next question.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself. 

A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.

“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’

“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.

“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”

Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.

“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”

“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”

Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.

“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”

“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”

Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)

“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”

Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.

“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”

That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.

“Probably not half as much as I did.”

Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.

If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.

It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.

Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇

Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.

yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤

From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.

[bunbunny02]

Merry Christmas!! @striderq 💚💚💚!!

[realblrr]

Too all of you , who are excited about Christmas ... i wish you all my best wishes...✨️

[deathsmallcaps]

Ok when I reblogged this last night, I picked 3rd because that’s what I’ve heard, but I also said maybe a little bit #4? Because at the time I thought ‘well something not really mattering to you = a sort of rejection” so I was a little confused as to how they were separate options?

And then when I woke up and I saw this I remembered that the ‘rejection’ idea was an antisemitic talking point. As in supposedly you saw the undeniable truth of Jesus and were like nah.

So I’m not sure how else it could’ve been worded - it was quickly visible to me after a good night’s sleep - but I wonder how many other people were thinking similarly to me when they picked #4, and how many are genuinely antisemitic. But I hope there’s just a lot of confused people.

[rosiereveries]

Retired!John Price who now lives in a small town. The town every year celebrates the lighting of the christmas tree and this year John was asked to be the Santa Claus. He's just supposed to sit next to the tree, with kids on his knees and ask them what they want for Christmas. He agrees, he wants to be a part of the community and he want to make the Christmas magical for the kids. He gets the beard the costume and he is ready.

The whole event goes smoothly, the kids are nice the parents are grateful and he has a good time. Just before the event ends you and your friends come. Theres no more children there and John is ready to go home. That's when your friends bet with you that you won't go to the Santa. You're a little but drunk, you had quite a few glasses of wine and you agree. When you sit on John's lap you tell him about your Christmas wish. You want a man who will treat you right. No boy child or some mommy's boy. You want a real man. It's been a while since a pretty girl like you sat on John's lap. He enjoys how close you are and how good you smell. And when you start you squirm on his lap his cock starts to get hard. He has a hard time keeping neural face and not moaning into your ear. When you finally stand up ready to leave you tell John that you would not mind if your Christmas wish man looked like him.

Don't be surprised when the next day John knocks on your door telling you that he has a message from Santa for you. He's been told that you were a very good girl this year and you deserve your present. You just need to go upstairs, take your panties off and wait till John fills you up.

Masterlist

[bladedhatsandstars]

Thank you for making my holiday all the merrier!

Niu, Hyvää joulua myös sinulle! Kiitos! I hope your holidays are peaceful and joyful.

John, I have no idea what you mean, but I appreciate the sentiment. I imagine a wagon would be a bit hard to fit under the Christmas tree, hehe.

Thank you, Erina. I am forever grateful and humbled by your kindness and friendship. I will always be there for you, and our loved ones.

Thank you, Jojo. Cheers to surviving multiple adventures this year, and hopes for a pleasant year this coming one. Whatever we face, I know we can face it, together. Ah, chocolate. Much appreciated, Luv. Care to share a piece?

Ahh, Joseph. I certainly hope I am your favorite, otherwise your Other Favorite will have to foot the repair bill for that motorbike. Merry Christmas. Wait. What-! JOJO!! Not again… Ach. Thank goodness my agents invented a portable fire deterrent…

[paarksunghoon]

grocery store receipts (sunghoon)

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

[supportgaza]

A Merry Christmas in Ireland while my Family in Gaza is Escaping Death Daily: Help me Evacuate and Reunite with my Family

Vetted by:

1. @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi # 151 on the spreadsheet of Vetted Gaza Fundraisers List]

2. @riding-with-the-wild-hunt Here .

One's family is the soul of his/her soul. Is there a life without a soul?

I would never wish for my worst enemies to be in my situation (being far away in safety while every member of my family is dodging the bullets, missiles, and shrapnel daily. They live in fear and are deprived of all the necessities for a humane normal life.

I do NOT buy the manipulative misleading news about a ceasefire to be signed soon because we had heard such news countless times in the past year. Unfortunately, the genocide, chaos, loss, and killing will continue in the besieged Gaza Strip.

The atmosphere where I am in Ireland is filled with joy, gratefulness, Christmas songs and decorations, and the streets, cafes, and shops are filled with happy families. However, I look down into my heart and all I see is a broken heart filled with fear and agony. No words in the English language properly and aptly describes the fear that strikes my heart and spreads with blood through my body when my mother said: "The bombing never stops in our area and the quad copters fire their bullets at people walking in the street." Even the most gory and bloody horror movies can not reflect a portion of the terror and fear the has overtaken and consumed people.

When I hear the work Nusairat, the area in central Gaza where my family is, I get a panic attack and suddenly lose sense of my surrounding. I hear news everyday about entire families including women and children being targeted by Israeli missiles made in American and Europe, and I fear for my family. Would not you, too? Me and you are not so different after all. We are made of flesh, bones and blood. We have dreams, ambitions and aspirations. We care and fear for our families and loved ones. So, what made our blood in Gaza so cheap? When did we turn into less of human beings?

I can tell you without equivocation that we are damaged and broken beyond what you could possibly think. Entire cities in the Gaza Strip were flattened. My family's house in the north of Gaza was severely damaged and our city has turned into an unlivable ghost city.

From our family to all the families out there that care for Gaza and Gazans, please boost our campaign in whatever way you can and help us reach our final goal. Help my family evacuate and reunite in Ireland. While enjoying this Christmas break with your family and loved ones, please do not forget your brothers and sisters in Gaza who go through horrors you cannot begin to imagine.

My family is in a place where a missile can fall and tear them to pieces. We deserve to be together in a safe place away from the chaos, death, terror, and bullets. Please put your hand in mine as I strive to get them out of there. Please contribute to this noble cause in whatever way you can. Take whatever action; do something, please!

Please donate, reblog, and share.

We are at 64% of our final goal and getting closer to acheiving our final goal.

Tagging for reach <3 Please boost my family's campaign

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[nouearth]

when the snow settles.

clark kent x male reader.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. clark’s busy spoiling his sick boyfriend with cookies and cuddles—until things heat up when someone decides a kiss (and more) is the real cure for a cold.

𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 & 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓. one-shot [ 6.0k ].

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. male reader 〳 corenswet!clark 〳 established relationship 〳 sick!reader 〳 christmas!au 〳 sexual content: top!clark, bottom!reader, belly-bulging, breeding, rimming (r!receiving), praising, body worship, clark can alter the temp of his body (and dick).

Snow fell softly outside the apartment, blanketing Metropolis in a serene hush that contrasted sharply with the sound of sniffling from the couch. Clark’s living room was cozy, aglow with the golden twinkle of Christmas lights strung up around the windows. The faint scent of pine mingled with the sweet aroma of gingerbread baking in the oven, though the stuffy haze of your cold dulled the sharpness of both.

You sat bundled in a mountain of blankets, a tissue box on one side and a half-empty mug of tea on the other. Despite the misery of a congested head and the scratchy soreness in your throat, you couldn’t help but watch Clark with a mix of amusement and adoration.

In the kitchen, he moved with a carefree confidence, humming along to Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas as it played softly on his phone. He had insisted on baking cookies for the evening, declaring it the perfect way to boost your holiday cheer. Not that you needed much help in that department—his reindeer antler headband, bouncing with every step he took, was doing most of the work.

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his strong forearms, and his glasses had fogged up slightly from the warmth of the oven. Even with the goofy apron he wore—a red and green monstrosity with “Santa’s Favorite Helper” embroidered across the front—he looked unfairly attractive.

Clark glanced over his shoulder at you, a soft smile spreading across his face as his gaze met yours. “You okay over there?” he asked, his voice gentle. “Need more tea? Another blanket? A better boyfriend?”

You groaned theatrically, flopping back into the throw pillows. “What I need is for my head to stop feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton.”

And stones—your flair for drama only worsened the throbbing ache from the sudden movement.

Setting down a tray of freshly baked cookies, Clark wiped his hands on a dishtowel and made his way over to you. He knelt beside the couch, one hand reaching up to take the temperature from your forehead while the other rested lightly on your knee through the blanket.

His touch was warm, steady, grounding.

“Still running hot. Sorry you’re feeling this way,” he said sincerely, his brow furrowing just a little. “If I could punch a cold in the face, you know I would.”

You laughed, but it quickly dissolved into a coughing fit. Clark was at your side in an instant, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back until the worst of it passed. “It’s so unfair that you never get sick,” you rasped, your voice rough and strained. “You’re just… immune to everything. Meanwhile, I’m over here melting into a Christmas puddle.”

“Wow. This is the thanks I get for baking you cookies? My boyfriend wishing ill on me?” He chuckled, resting his elbows on the edge of the couch to stay level with your gaze. "If it makes you feel better, Krypto would probably be thrilled to drink you up if you were a puddle! Likes his water from the spring... spoiled dog."

His grin was boyish and a little smug, and you rolled your eyes at him, though the corners of your lips twitched upward.

“What I’m saying is… we could’ve been sick together,” you muttered, “But I can’t even enjoy them. Look here.” You picked up one of the gingerbread cookies Clark had carefully decorated earlier, the icing swirls and tiny candy buttons a testament to his painstaking attention to detail.

The cookie felt firm yet inviting in your hand, its edges slightly crisp and still warm from the oven. Breaking off a piece, you popped it into your mouth, hopeful that even through the fog of your cold, some of the sweetness might break through.

Instead, all you got was the texture—a faint crunch that dissolved into a soft crumble on your tongue. The spice you knew should be there, the warm bite of ginger and cinnamon that normally screamed Christmas, was muted to the point of nonexistence.

You frowned, swallowing the flavorless bite with effort. A sharp, scratchy sting flared in your throat, the dry irritation making each swallow feel more uncomfortable than the last. The lack of taste was almost offensive, a cruel reminder of how thoroughly your cold had robbed you of simple joys.

Clark’s eyes flicked over to you, catching your expression as you set the rest of the cookie down with a defeated sigh. “Nothing?” he asked, his voice tinged with sympathy.

“Absolutely nothing,” you muttered, your voice still scratchy. “I might as well be eating cardboard.”

Clark chuckled softly, getting up on his feet to sit beside you. “Guess that means more for me, huh?” He reached for a cookie, his teasing grin faltering when he saw your pout, but his craving persisted nonetheless. “Hey, don’t worry,” he added, nudging your shoulder gently. “Once you’re better, I’ll bake you a whole new batch. Extra ginger, just the way you like it.”

“Yeah…”

Clark bit into a gingerbread cookie with gusto, clearly enjoying his own handiwork as he snuggled beside you on the couch.

“Mmm,” he hummed dramatically, his eyes widening as he made a show of savoring the bite. “Oh, wow. These might be my best yet. Sweet, spicy, perfectly baked—chef’s kiss.” He gestured extravagantly, grinning like he’d just won a baking competition.

“Not saying these aren’t good, but I’m pretty sure the last time you made cookies, Krypto got more excited than I did."

You were about to roll your eyes at his antics when you noticed a speck of icing clinging to the corner of his mouth and a small crumb nestled in the dimple of his cheek. It was such a ridiculously human detail—charming in its imperfection—that you felt a sudden pang of affection bloom in your chest.

“Here,” you said, laughing softly as you reached up and brushed the crumb away with your thumb, your fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. His skin was warm, and the bashful smile that tugged at his lips made your stomach flip.

“Didn't stop you from cleaning out the cookie tray...” he murmured, his cheeks pinking slightly as he quickly licked the icing from the corner of his mouth, completely oblivious to how endearing he looked. "Thanks."

You shook your head, biting back a grin. “You’re a mess,” you teased, but your voice was far softer than usual, betraying just how much the sight of him—unpolished, sweet, and so effortlessly Clark—had utterly disarmed you.

Clark’s smile softened, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. His lips lingered for a moment, warm and impossibly tender against your fevered skin. When he pulled back, he looked at you with that impossibly earnest expression that always made your heart twist.

“It’s nice, though, isn’t it?” Clark murmured, his voice soft and warm, like the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting off his glasses. “The cookies, the Christmas specials, the decorations… being snowed in together. Like a Hallmark movie, but… not terrible?”

You could see the flicker of nostalgia in his eyes as he spoke, his tone carrying a quiet sincerity that made your heart ache in the best way. The soft crackle of the digital fireplace playing on the TV and the distant hum of holiday music only made the moment feel more intimate, as if the world outside had disappeared entirely.

A warmth spread through your chest that had nothing to do with fever. Clark had this infuriating knack for making everything—even being sick—feel like a kind of blessing, as long as he was beside you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, your voice rough but laced with affection. “Talking like I’ve got only two months left to live…” You tried for sarcasm, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Clark’s grin softened into something more tender, his gaze unwavering as he watched you. “Yeah,” you admitted quietly, letting out a small sigh. “It’s nice. Really nice.”

The weight of your words hung between you for a moment, and the corners of Clark’s mouth twitched upward again, this time into a bashful little smile. He didn’t say anything more—he didn’t need to.

Instead, his hand found yours beneath the blanket, his thumb brushing softly against your knuckles, as if to say everything he didn’t put into words.

You knew he was the strongest man in the world, but it was these quiet moments—his sincerity, his kindness—that made you feel like you were the one holding something unbreakable.

Clark squeezed your hand gently, his expression melting into something tender and a little uncertain. He studied you for a long moment, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every detail. “You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked softly. “I mean, really okay? I know I’m supposed to cheer you up, but I don’t want to push too much—especially if you’re not feeling great.”

You leaned your head back against the cushions, exhaling a soft sigh. “Clark, I’m fine,” you said, your voice still raspy but carrying enough exasperation to make your point. “I mean, yeah, I feel like I’ve been hit by a snowplow, but it’s not like I’m about to collapse.” Your lips quirked into a small, teasing smile as you tilted your head toward him.

“Besides, you’ve already gone above and beyond. The cookies, the mistletoe, the cozy speeches… you’re basically an elf on the shelf who magically transformed into the perfect boyfriend overnight.” You reached over, your other hand settling on Clark's broad shoulders as you gently rubbed them, a silent gesture of appreciation.

Clark chuckled at that, but the faint blush on his cheeks deepened. “Well, I don’t know about perfect…” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck in that adorably bashful way that made your chest tighten.

“Perfect,” you repeated, a little firmer this time, giving his hand a squeeze. “Even in that ridiculous apron.”

He let out a breathy laugh, and the sound sent a flutter through you. The way his smile lingered—soft and boyish, but edged with a quiet intensity—made your stomach flip. His thumb absentmindedly traced circles on the back of your hand, and though the gesture was small, it felt impossibly intimate.

“Clark,” you mumbled, leaning in slightly, the hoarseness of your voice making his name sound heavier, more charged. “Stop worrying so much.”

“I can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a low murmur. His eyes flicked to your lips before darting away, a faint flicker of hesitation passing over his features. “You’re sick. I don’t want to… you know… make it worse.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, though it quickly turned into a cough. Clark’s expression immediately shifted to concern, but you waved him off, catching your breath as you gave him a lopsided grin.

“Clark, I’m not made of glass. And for the record,” you added, your voice softening as you leaned in just a little closer with the support of your elbows, “I think kissing you would make me feel a whole lot better. Best medicine and all that.”

His ears turned an impressive shade of red, and he ducked his head slightly, his grin both shy and disbelieving. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of exasperation and fondness.

You shrugged, your grin turning sly. “And yet, you’re still here.”

“I’m still here,” he echoed softly, his voice carrying a weight of affection that made your heart ache in the best way. His gaze lingered on you, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the soft glow of the Christmas lights casting him in a golden halo.

Slowly, tentatively, Clark leaned in, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw. “If you wake up tomorrow feeling worse,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours in the barest of touches, “I’m blaming you.”

“Noted,” you whispered back, your breath mingling with his as you tilted your head to close the distance between you.

Strange. You hadn’t noticed the scent of cinnamon when he first brought out the cookies, but now, with your lips inching closer to his—like two cookies spreading and melding into one—you could almost convince yourself you were cured. Almost, if not for the stubborn stuffiness in your nose.

The kiss was gentle at first, as if Clark was afraid you might shatter beneath him. But when you let out a soft, contented sigh and threaded your fingers through his hair, his restraint wavered.

He deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a warmth and intensity that made you forget all about the congestion and sore throat. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his other hand pressed lightly against your waist beneath the blanket.

You tugged him closer still, your lips parting to let him in as the heat between you began to build. Clark’s kisses were like him—steady, powerful, and infused with an overwhelming tenderness that made your head spin. When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you were breathing harder, the warmth of the moment erasing the chill of the winter night.

“Feeling better yet?” he asked, his voice teasing, though the worry flickering in his eyes betrayed him. It wasn’t just concern over your condition—it was something deeper, a quiet struggle to hold himself back. Not when you looked so effortlessly beautiful, your disheveled state a product of his presence.

“Better,” your voice came out in a whisper, your hand resting lightly on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm before traveling around his torso to untie his apron. “But I think I might need a few more rounds just to be sure.”

Clark let out a soft laugh as you tossed the fabric to the floor, his thumb grazing your cheek in a tender gesture. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, but this time the words were thick with affection. His teeth caught his lower lip as your hands lingered at the waistband of his pajama pants, your intentions unmistakable with the gentle tug at his drawstring.

“You sure?” he asked sincerely, large, calloused hands pressing all over your body, but mainly your bare stomach, where he began mapping out heat zones over the plane.You could feel the strength of his abdomen beneath the thickness of his sweater as your hand gently traced his body in admiration. Biting your lip, you reached up to remove his glasses and nodded.

"If you don’t mind taking care of me tonight.”

There was something about the way Clark watched you during moments like these. You couldn’t tell if it was the warmth of his touch or the intensity of his gaze that made you feel so small, so vulnerable. Either way, you savored it—the sensation of being his entire focus, the apple of his eye, and nothing else.

Your stomach sank when he slid his third finger inside of your tight hole, joining his twinned index and middle.

“I can never get tired of this…” you mumbled, unbuttoning the rest of your pajama top when the pressure below heightened your body temperature.

“I’ll say,” Clark hummed, a growing mass forming large in his pants as he was knelt on the bed, gently working you open. The sound of his lubed fingers twisting and curling deep inside of you made his cock jolt, your cheeks reddening as a result of his attraction.

Clark had always been patient, but when it came to having you submit under his touch, he seemed to relish every second. His hands moved slowly, pressing and kneading at just the right spots, his fingers curling deep and slow to the rhythm of your heart while his other hand rubbed small and smooth circles over your stomach.

It wasn’t just about easing your tension—it was about watching you. The way your breath hitched when he found a tender spot, the subtle flutter of your lashes, the way your lips parted with a moan when he spread his three digits—it all captivated him.

He couldn’t help but grin softly as his hands worked their magic, savoring the reactions that only he could coax from you. For Clark, the real reward wasn’t just in soothing your aches—it was in seeing your face completely melt under his touch, your body reacting wantonly because you craved for more.

And with that, Clark went on to give you more. Knowing how sensitive your body’s condition was in the moment, he carefully pushed your legs up, his large hands stabilizing you by the thighs, and replaced the fill of his fingers with his inquisitive tongue.

Like his fingers, he started out slow and deliberate, tracing the swollen ring of muscle to sample the fresh layer of artificially-flavored lube dripping out of your hole. He licked you with a casual ease, but the look in his eyes was anything but.

“Smells like coconut,” you sniffled softly as he lifted his head to press a few kisses to your inner thighs. The warmth of his breath lingered on your skin, but your attention caught on the sticky sheen smeared across his cheek, a glistening trace of slick that made your cock twitch.

“Close… coconut cream pie. More vanilla than I was expecting, if I had to be honest…”

A tender smile curved your lips as your fingers found their way into his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingertips. You began to pet his head gingerly, your touch slow and soothing, grounding both of you in the moment.

“Love you.”

Clark leaned into your hand instinctively, a low hum of contentment rumbling from his chest. His eyes fluttered shut briefly, the tension in his broad shoulders melting under your touch, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away entirely.

“I love you too, (M/N).”

His gaze flicked to yours, a sudden spark of mischief between the blinds of his eyelashes, before he paused for a moment, letting the anticipation build, and kept a watchful eye on you while he slowly pushed out his spit to drizzle it over your wet hole.

Then, with agonizing precision, he pushed the remainder of the saliva into the center of your opening, the wet, methodical slck of the motion sending a jolt of heat down your spine.

“Fuck…” Your fingers curled into his hair until they were grasping, pushing him and his tongue deeper into you while simultaneously rutting your hips against him.

Clark was a hungry man. He made sure to clean up any traces of his spit and lube with that thick tongue of his, slurping the remnants before adding onto it again with a generous amount of spit. Every time you thought the trail of saliva was dripping dangerously close to the bed sheets, Clark’s intuition was strong enough to blindly guide him to the leak, deftly licking it back up and kissing your flesh in passing.

He would never waste a single drop.

A quiet, satisfied moan escaped him, low and drawn out, as if savoring the sweetness of the lube and your flesh was a private indulgence. His eyes never left yours as his nose rubbed at your taint in midst of his devouring, The smile that curled at his lips—glazed and glistening—was a challenge, a silent dare that made the air between you feel heavy.

Heavier, when he found the right rhythm of flicking his tongue to make your body writhe under him.

“Clark, please…” you whined, one hand massaging your loose balls while the other toyed with your nipple, pleasuring yourself not only to the sight of Clark indulging in the warmth and taste of your flesh, but also his naked torso.

His chest rose and fell steadily, each inhale making his broad shoulders flex, the faint sheen of sweat catching the light. The planes of his abdomen looked carved, every ridge and dip inviting your eyes to linger, compelling your cock to leak out of sheer astonishment.

His arms were just as mesmerizing—thick and powerful, with veins running along his forearms that seemed to pulse with quiet authority, especially so when he’d alternative between working your hole open with his fingers and tongue again.

The strength they promised wasn’t just physical but protective. Those arms of his were built to shield and hold you.

When he finally pulled away, his gaze lingered, watching as you panted breathlessly, your chest rising and falling, desperate for him to finish what he had so teasingly begun. The tension hung there, thick and electric, like the moment itself had slowed just for the two of you.

He took off the remainder of his clothes before sprawling himself over you, his broad frame hovering just above yours while you seized the opportunity to thank him of his service. Between gentle kisses that Clark needed to get out of his system before he would lose himself in your body, you generously applied a glorious amount of lube on his large cock, though not letting Clark’s kisses answer to nobody.

His muscles pressed gently against you, the solid strength of his chest rising and falling with each breath when you took a couple of moments to thoroughly layer him in slick—to silently appreciate him for his efforts in lifting your spirits throughout the week with firm strokes.

The weight of his cock in your hands was satisfying, hefty enough to make you pause and marvel at the sheer size of it. You couldn’t get used to it, nor did you want to.

“You comfortable? Need more pillows? Tell me if your body starts hurting, okay?” Clark asked, suppressing his moans by showering your neck and face in small, lithe kisses.

His hands roamed your body at their own free-will before they began fixating on your arms, where your goosebumps were discernible. His brows furrowed in concern.

“Little cold…” One arm looped around to caress Clark by the nape, holding his forehead flushed to your own, while your other hand continued to stroke him between your collective hip grinds. You shivered again, despite being nestled so close to him, the draft still biting at your skin.

“Give me a moment,” he murmured softly, the heat of his breath brushing your ear.

You looked up at him, puzzled, but before you could ask what he meant, Clark pulled back just slightly, enough to give himself space to move. Without a word, he began to shift, his body warm and powerful as he adjusted his position. A flicker of surprise passed through you when you saw the subtle concentration on his face, but before you could ask again, you felt it when he pressed himself on top of you again, lowering his hips.

Clark’s body temperature seemed to rise—slowly, but steadily, until you could feel a gentle heat radiating off him. It was as if he was adjusting his own internal warmth, shifting it just for you. Your eyes widened in disbelief, but the shiver running through your body eased, the cold gradually melting away as his warmth enveloped you.

“You should be good now,” he said, his voice low and calm while he pulled you back into his arms, his skin now perfectly heated against yours.

You nestled against him again, finally able to relax as the cold left you entirely. “Not even going to ask,” you graced him with a kiss, reaching between your pelvis and his to adjust his cock against your hole and nodded. “I’m good to go.”

“Love you so much…” He took you by the jaw and slotted his lips into yours once more, grounding the wavering of your breath with his protection before he pushed his hips forth.

“It’s so… big, C-Clark—“ you groaned, clenching your eyes shut through the bittersweet tension of his large cock opening you up.

Clark whispered several I know’s over your lips, a strong effort in placating the pain surging beneath you, while taking a few pauses for you to catch your breath, for Clark to catch his because—you were so tight.

"You're so tight..." Clark seemed to have admitted in a whisper without realizing.

You felt yourself swell within seconds, the crown of your insides clenching him and pushing him out all at the same time, but Clark remained resilient, pushing, and pushing, allowing you to feel the slow, deliberate pressure inside of you, until he was finally deeply rooted inside of you to the hilt, earning himself a deep guttural groan from you as a reward.

“You feel so good, baby. So, so good. Taking me so well…” He peppered your whimpers with soft kisses, his words soothing you as his boyish smile remained, warm and comforting, easing you with each gentle touch and praise.

“You’re so warm too…” you muttered into the palm of his hand, kissing him at the calloused skin before you returned back to his plush lips.

Your breath caught in your throat as you shifted, the feeling of being filled growing deeper, fuller with every inch of Clark’s large cock moving inside of you. Clark’s large palm rested on your stomach, caressing over the bulge that seemed to move in conjunction with his slow, methodical thrusts.

He had never mentioned it, but you knew it was a sight that he secretly loved. Clark's eyes softened with admiration as he watched, his gaze lingering on the subtle curve of your stomach. It was unmistakable, the way it had begun to gently bulge with every rut of his hips, becoming more prominent depending on the strength, the fullness a natural sign of the way your body had been affected by what you’d taken.

And what you had taken was Clark’s love and devotion to you—his thick cock making you gape and swell from beneath.

It wasn’t easy, not by any means, but there was an undeniable pull in watching your stomach swell from his cock—an almost desperate craving for the mixture of pain and pleasure, for the way it made your body react even though your mind wavered between wanting to resist and wanting to surrender completely.

He couldn’t help but marvel at it, his fingertips lightly grazing the curve, tracing its outline with a reverent touch. The way your body had responded to him, the way it molded to the shape of the intimate moment, filled him with a quiet awe. He leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against your skin, his voice low and hushed. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, a hint of wonder in his tone, as if he couldn’t quite believe the sight before him.

Clark was never one to boast, but in this moment, the glint in his eyes spoke volumes. He’d never been so proud of having someone like you—someone so determined—take all of his girth with such unwavering focus despite the tears in your eyes. Happy tears, to which he’d only create more of, when he gently pressed on the bulge in your stomach and sandwiched his cock within your insides, plunging himself deep inside of you until the only sounds that came out of your throat were guttural.

“C-Clark—oh, god…” your cock was dripping in pre-cum, throbbing to the weight of his cock hollowing you out as he sped up his hips and pushed you deeper into the bed on instinct. You held onto his muscular shoulders as he clutched onto your waist and rocked you back and forth along to his deep thrusts.

“God, I’m so deep inside of you. Is this okay, baby? Is it okay that I’m making love to you like this? I’m being selfish, aren’t I?”

“No-please! I l-love it so much, Clark. Fuck. Keep fucking me like that… wouldn’t want anything more—”

“Like this? You like how I’m so deep inside of you to the point where your tummy’s swelling? So… good. You look so good for me…”

His forehead connected to yours again, panting over your mouth and taking a moment to marvel over how he had rendered you speechless before he could muster up the energy to kiss you again, to draw out another sound from you with his tongue.

The warmth of his mouth was almost feverish, his breath mingling with yours in a tangled, wet dance. Each movement was smooth and sensual, your tongues exploring, tasting, tracing the contours of each other’s mouths with growing eagerness. The wetness of it—the gentle press of his lips, the slick glide of your tongues—made the kiss feel all the more intoxicating, as if every flick and sweep brought you deeper into him.

Clark’s body temperature only seemed to have gotten warmer, affecting you from the inside and out as his cock was synchronous.

You could feel Clark’s dick heat you up from the inside, seemingly softening your guts to make the ease of fully wrecking you all the more easier. With each kiss, praise, and thrust, your body melted further, feeling as soft and pliable as butter left out in the warmth. The tension in your muscles faded, replaced by a liquid sensation that spread through you, leaving you entirely at ease and whimpering in his hot embrace.

The faint sheen of sweat gave him an undeniable rawness, a physicality that made your heart race. You were mesmerized by the way it clung to him, the way the droplets caught the light before sliding slowly down his torso.

Each movement he made only seemed to draw you in more, the heat radiating from his body intensifying the pull you felt. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, infatuated not just by his strength, but by the way he looked so alive, so real—like the sweat was proof of his effort, his focus, and the raw intensity of how he was making love to you and that tantalizing hole of yours.

“You’re fucking me so good, Clark. I could come like this, baby—just like this…”

“And when you make a mess—not if, but when—I’ll treat you like the prince you are. I’ll clean you up with my mouth, let you watch me lick every drop away with my tongue, and then I’ll kiss you, giving you a taste of your love for me.”

His skin, damp with the effort of his keen need to wreck you, left a trail of warmth and moisture as he pounded you, a strong, animalistic friction that made every touch feel more intimate and passionate, that made the current position of him mounting you and bending your knees till they touched your chest despite your condition well worthwhile and all the more rewarding.

It was a sound that matched the intensity of the connection between you both—no words needed, just the symphony of his sweaty skin meeting yours, and his cock hollowing you out until you two had made a permanent imprint on the mattress.

Clark’s breath hitched as he watched you, his eyes soft and filled with admiration contrasting with his hardened thrusts. “You look so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. “Just… so perfect.”

His hand moved to your stomach again, evidently in love with the way you swelled from his cock, the weight of the moment sinking in with the aid of the bed creaking, and Clark’s sweaty skin slapping against you.

Every word he spoke, every gentle press of his lips, seemed to soften you, coaxing out of the cold that had been restricting you. It was as though you were being molded by his touch, the heat of his affection spreading through your veins, leaving you pliant, relaxed, and willing to give yourself entirely to him.

All sensation coursing through you was a tangled mess of pleasure and overwhelming intensity. Your body was on the verge of unraveling with every deep thrust of Clark’s. You could feel him swell, veins throbbing inside of you, his balls twitching as he was nearing his high just as you were.

Your eyes fluttered closed, the edges of your vision blurring the harder he pounded into you like an animal, like he was beating away at your cold, and you could feel yourself slipping into a blissful madness.

It was almost too much, yet it felt like the most real thing you’d ever known. Your body trembled from the weight of his body on you, from the girth that Clark was destroying you open with. Every muscle was tight with anticipation, yet you managed to hold onto a smile, the corners of your lips twitching despite the storm raging inside you, your cock throbbing and leaking in overdrive in warning.

“C-Clark..!“

Your hands instinctively found their way around Clark's neck, pulling him closer as if to anchor yourself in the moment. The kiss you pressed against his lips was desperate, full of need and grounding, a silent plea for him to steady you in the chaos as your balls tightened up into your core.

With each breathless press of your mouth to his, you found a sliver of control, a tether to the reality of his presence, even as the pleasure threatened to send you into pure blissful madness.

“I know—me too—“

Your smile lingered, your mind teetered on the edge, savoring every second, every touch, every thrust, and every heartbeat that connected you both, until the very moment where Clark’s name slipped from your lips in a breathless gasp.

“Clark—“

The tension had reached its peak, and when it finally broke, it was like a wave crashing over you, overwhelming and all-consuming. You came in a shared, fervent release. All muscles in your body was taut with desire, the culmination of your love for him unraveling in the form of thick white ropes shooting out of your cock, decorating your bulging stomach with layers upon layers, some splattering onto Clark’s body from the sheer amount of power and arousal.

Clark’s grip on you tightened, his body shuddering against yours as he gave into the same release, his breath ragged in the wake of it. His name left your lips in a soft, trembling sigh as he spilled his warm, thick seed deep inside of your raw hole. He left you breathless, thick, and steady, flooding you in ropes that seemed to never end. It was a powerful, consuming feeling, filling you completely, each pulse of his cock deep and unwavering, decorating your insides with a thickness that left you in awe of how much he had to give, like his body had held nothing back.

Your bodies moved together in those final moments, each thrust and touch sending shock waves through your system as Clark rode out his orgasm. You could feel every inch of him, raw and exposed. The warmth spread through you with each movement, the thick fluid of his cum filling you to the brim, a steady stream that didn’t seem to have an end leaking out of you that would surely have your flesh glued together with his.

Nothing else listed but the two of you—completely undone, unraveling together and leaving behind nothing but the sweet, tender echo of your love for each other.

The room was still, save for your breathing, as Clark’s forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath, tangled together in the beautiful, but sweaty aftermath.

“Are you… feeling better?”

His fingers traced along your skin, over the mess that you made of your stomach to let the sticky substance seep into his own palm, while he caught the remainder of his breath in the crook of your neck, fully collapsing on top of you.

“I…” You groaned, the lingering sensation of pleasure making it hard to find words. But despite the exhaustion, a sly smile tugged at your lips.

You rubbed his broad back in soothing circles, whispering in his ear, “I think I might need another prescription, Doctor.” Your voice was breathless, a mischievous glint in your eyes as the desire still simmered beneath the surface.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[darkbluekies]

Christmas tendencies

Yandere!king x fem!reader

Summary: spending Christmas with Edmund can't go wrong<3 can it?

Warnings: Edmund not being nice, in fact being quite naughty, jealousy

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: i thought it'd be a waste to not post this when it was so near completion! So please enjoy and have a merry Christmas if you do celebrate it♡

As if on purpose, the snow has graced the earth for Christmas after not showing itself for the entirety of december. But now, a thick layer of snow covers everything that was once dead and grey. You can’t help but feel excitement. Maybe Christmas with Edmund won’t be hell after all? 

You’re standing in one of the gigantic windows, looking out over the castle grounds—the very same you’re not allowed out in. The castle’s gardeners have decorated every bush, every tree, with lights and decorations. 

“You’ve been standing here for a good forty five minutes now, my jewel”, Edmund says as he walks over to you, fixing his golden cufflinks. “How much more interesting can it get after ten?” 

“You don’t get it”, you reply over your shoulder. “The gardeners have spent a lot of time decorating the grounds, shouldn’t one get to admire their hard work?”

You feel how Edmund comes up behind you, sneaks his arms around your waist and buries his chin into your shoulder. 

“The staff has put a great detail into the interior too”, he mumbles. “Why don’t you stare at that for an hour or two?”

You scoff. 

“I think it’s pretty”, you reply and turn your eyes out the window again. “With the snow and everything. Besides, I’ve already inspected every decoration inside, I helped hang them up.”

“You did, and it’s very pretty. Just like you. I like your dress.”

It’s a red velvet dress reaching down to the floor with long, cape sleeves. 

You turn around to get a look at him. He's wearing a black suit with loose white pieces that puff out. Golden cufflinks and a white bow. His fluffy dark hair has been brushed back, face newly shaven—although there never was anything to shave to begin with.

“You look like you've been tortured”, you joke.

“Haha, funny”, he replies sarcastically, clearly not impressed. “I've told them time and time again that I have an extremely sensitive scalp but no one listens, they force me to do silly hairstyles like this. I think I must have lost at least half of my hair.”

You reach to fix a strand of hair that escaped his hairstyle. You can feel him shudder under your fingertips.

“You’ll live”, you say. “Besides, you look more grown this way.”

“Do I?” Edmund smirks proudly. “Do I look manly?”

“Don’t push it.”

He scoffs. 

Weirdly enough, Edmund has agreed on letting you out of the castle today. Just because it's a special day. The townsfolk are having a market that you have begged to visit and who is Edmund to deny your Christmas wish?

“Are you ready, my love?” he asks and takes your hand. “The carriage it out on the front yard. Let’s get this over with.”

“Can’t you at least pretend to be excited?” you ask with a sad pout. 

He sighs and rolls his eyes before nodding. 

“I’ll have to take a long, scolding bath right after coming back”, he mutters. “Who knows what kind of diseases they can carry? Oh, you’re taking that bath with me, by the way. My Christmas wish.”

He’s like a child when it comes to your bare body, getting eyes wide as moons when he gets to see the most vulnerable parts of you. It confuses you. In his past he has allowed himself to a majority of women and their bodies, so why does he look at you as if he’s never seen it before? 

It’s one of the few times you see him without his cocky exterior. He looks at you with eyes of gratitude, as if showing yourself to him is the greatest gift of mankind. 

Edmund holds your hand tightly as you walk out to the royal carriage. The driver holds the door open for you, but Edmund insists on helping you up in it. He sits down in front of you. The carriage is decorated with golden details and small cherubs.

“You don’t have to look like you’re being driven to your execution”, you say and raise your eyebrows. 

“I’m not happy about this”, he says. “This is something you want.”

“Can’t you be happy for me, then? Please, Eddie?”

His cheeks take on a red tone. The nickname has only been used by you, ever. You gave it to him, you’re the only one that is allowed to say it. The firs time you had said it, he hadn’t known how to react. He had been staring at you with large eyes, wondering what prompted you to give him a nickname when no one else had ever imagined to do such a thing. At first, he was unsure what he thought of the name. He was king Edmund. Had once been prince Edmund. Rarely Edmund. Never Eddie. 

“Fine”, he says and clears his throat, trying to play it off. “I’ll try. But don’t call me that when we’re there.”

“Are you scared that the townsfolk will lose respect for you if they hear that you have a cute, little nickname?” you giggle. 

Edmund rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward. 

“No”, he says, smirking devilishly. “Because I don’t want other people to know what you call out in bed.”

Your jaw hangs open in shock and you grab the pillow behind your back, hitting him. Edmund covers himself with his arms, laughing. 

“Watch the hair!” he shouts. 

“You didn’t like the hair anyway”, you remind him. 

“It’s Christmas, you’re supposed to be nice. Don’t be naughty!”

“Naughty? Who the hell started talking about naughty stuff? You started it!”

Edmund laughed. His blue eyes glittered. 

The carriage rolls into the town. You turn your eyes out the window to look at what you’ve been watching from afar. You get out together, Edmund holding onto you so that you don’t fall. The townsfolk keep a distance, knowing that the knights will go to attack if they come to close. Their bright eyes watch on as if they’ve seen something extraordinary. And maybe, you think, for them this is something extraordinary. 

Their eyes follow you to the christmas market. 

“All eyes are making me shy”, you whisper to Edmund. 

“Drink it all in, darling”, Edmund replies quietly. “They worship you, but not as much as I do … and if they try I’m going to kill them.”

“Be quiet!” you hiss. 

Edmund scoffs and rubs your back with his hand. You walk through the streets to the town’s square where multiple small sheds are put up, full of candy, baked bread, knitted goods and alcohol. While you walk around chit-chatting with the vendors, Edmund stands close behind you, a hand on you always. A warning, to everyone around you. You are his, and no one is going to forget that—absolutely not you. 

You buy something from every stand and insist of carrying it yourself. Edmund can’t understand why you want such … cheap crap. He can give you the same things but done well, made by professionals who cost him a fortune. He doesn’t let you eat anything and keeps a constant, watchful eyes around. 

“Smile a bit more, why don’t you?” he mutters in your ear. 

His jealousy is like a wildfire, spreading through him quickly and dangerously. With no easy way to stop it. 

“Edmund”, you whisper quietly. “Stop it.”

“You bought so much from that man”, he continued. “What did you hope to achieve?”

“Edmund!”

He stays silent the rest of the Christmas market. As soon as you get back to the carriage, he can’t keep quiet anymore. 

“Those are so fucking ugly”, says as the door to the carriage closes. 

“That is so unnecessarily mean”, you hiss back at him. “They don’t have what you have. They do their best. And, for having as little as they do, I think they look great.”

You hold your new treasures in your lap closely. 

“I don’t want to spend more time with you if you’re going to be like this”, you mumble without looking at him. 

You’re happy for your new things. But he doesn’t understand. Edmund sighs heavily, clenches his jaw and nods. 

“Okay”, he mutters and takes your hands in his. “I’m sorry … but I could have given you so much better things. If you wanted new mittens, I could have given you them. These things … who knows what could actually be in them?”

You put on the hand knitted mittens. 

“Take them off”, Edmund says, but he doesn’t sound angry or demanding like before. “Darling, my jewel, I’m serious. I don’t want you getting a rash, or something.”

“We’re taking a bath when we get back, don’t we?”

Edmund sighs and gives up. You hold up your hands.

“Aren’t they kind of cute?” you ask. “A little?”

“Fuck no.”

“What if I had made them?”

“You wouldn’t have. If you had knitted mittens, they’d be a thousand times better.”

“You are so mean.” You keep your eyes on your hands. “You were jealous out there too.”

“Of them? Of those filthy peasants?”

“Of those men.”

Edmund leans back in his seat, jaw tightening. 

“Men”, he scoffs and turns his head towards the window. “I wouldn’t call them ‘men’.”

“Childish jealousy doesn’t look good on a king”, you point out.

“You like it when I’m childish though. You laugh, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“You don’t need to be jealous over them. I don’t know them.”

“Everyone wants you. And it makes me sick.”

“Everyone wants you too.”

“They want to be me. But they want you. And I will never let that happen. You are mine.”

“I know. You’re the last person to let me forget that.”

When you get back to the castle, the two of you walk straight to the bathroom where the maids have poured a hot bubble bath that is burning to the touch. Edmund holds you close to him in his arms. 

The rest of the day is spent in the big living room, in front of the gigantic christmas tree that needed a dozen workers to decorate. Edmund wanted the entire town to be able to see the lights from his tree. 

“Merry Christmas, my love”, he says and holds out a red box.

You remove the wrapping smd open the box, finding a necklace with large, round pearls. It's heavy in your hands, and even heavier around your neck.

“These pears cost me quite a lot”, Edmund says and touches the pearls carefully. “But they're cheap in comparison to what my love for you is worth.”

And he means it. He really does.

[cherrygirlfriend]

is it new years yet? pairing: reader x neighbor!rafe synopsis: seeing your old neighbor on christmas during your break leads to you going down memory lane - and into each other's pants. warnings: smut, spit play, degradation, piv, unprotected sex, MDNI wc: 2.4k inspired by 'is it new years yet?' by sabrina carpenter and me being the only one single in my family during christmas. fun fact; i wrote half of this while celebrating christmas with my family and the other half on my way home. enjoy!

everything in life comes with pros and cons; the same applies to being the youngest in your family.

your two sisters and your brother all came to christmas with their significant others; you came with the hangover you were nursing from going out for drinks with some of your high school friends.

your oldest sister just had her first child. your other sister had just gotten married, and your brother brought his girlfriend of two years, that he was planning on proposing to.

you? the closest thing you'd come to something even resembling a relationship was a fling with a guy who ended up ghosting you after telling you he loved you. and although your new nephew was adorable, everyone around you being in relationships made you feel utterly alone.

as mariah carey's 'all i want for christmas is you' played in the speakers for the fifth time that night and you were served another slice of the mediocre fruitcake, you felt like taking the knife set down in front of you and making your eye socket it's new home, the urge only worsened by the words your eldest sister uttered.

"so, do you have a boyfriend?" she asked in a sing-songy voice, looking at you with an inquisitive look on her face, and you knew the comment was meant to be goodhearted, but all it managed to do was make you irritated; your relatives always knew what to say to piss you off.

you swallowed the remaining food in your mouth, "nope."

"what do you mean? you're gorgeous. there's gotta be someone who's into you!" your other sister exclaimed, rubbing salt in the wound. all you wanted was to forget that you were the only one at home with no one to hold. you just wished it was new years already.

your family didn't even notice when you slipped away from them to the patio that wrapped around your large house, hanging your head and your upper body over the railing, your hair dangling in the air as you let out a long breath that you'd held the entire time you'd spent in your family's company, feeling the blood rush to your head as you stared at your legs through the wide holes in the railing.

"you know that could kill you, right?"

you heard a smug voice say, one that was eerily familiar, and your suspicions over who it belonged to were confirmed when you lifted yourself up, your hair flipping and your eyes landing on none other than rafe cameron.

rafe cameron. a name that you never wished to even have to think about, a face you never wanted to have to look at. he had been your neighbor your entire life up until you moved for college, and he'd always enjoyed making your life hell.

"for that, i'm pretty sure i'd have to hang here for longer than fifteen seconds, but thanks for the unwanted medical advice, cameron. why are you creeping around our backyard?"

"aw, you didn't miss me?" he said with feigned sympathy as he slowly ascended the steps leading onto the porch, a small pout on his face.

"what's there to miss? you being a dick?"

rafe tutted, looking at you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, "see, the last time things were about my dick, you didn't seem that hostile."

...oh.

"that was a mistake." you said, trying your best not to make your voice shake, rolling your shoulders back and straightening your spine to try and seem confident, but he simply chuckled.

"you seem to make a lot of mistakes."

as he said those words, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to all the times you'd let him pin you against the wall of a small, skeevy janitor's closet that smelled of clorox and your mingling hormones, or the way he'd made you plead and beg before he'd let you come undone, coating his fingers in your creamy liquids.

but it felt like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over your head when those memories blended with ones where he'd said such cruel words about you, and then saying the same things in private, in such a different way.

"god, you're such a slut." he'd scoff, shaking his head as he looked from topper to kelce, both boys laughing at his words.

"god, you're such a slut..." he'd whisper against your skin as his long digits hit the spongy spot deep inside you, "such a good little slut f'me..."

you cleared your throat, your hand traveling to fiddle with the pearl earring in your ear, rolling it around between your thumb and your forefinger to try and not to focus on the way you had to shift from one foot to another, not wanting the wetness that was beginning to gather between your legs to stick your panties to your pussy. "what are you doing here, cameron?"

"i heard you were back in town. wanted to come see you."

his words made you roll your eyes, "last time i checked, we weren't exactly friends, cameron."

your eyes widened when his hand slid behind your back and he pulled your body flush to his, your heart hammering against your chest like someone was doing renovation inside your body. you didn't want to have these reactions for the man, but your body was betraying you.

"and last time i checked, the nickname you liked to use for me wasn't cameron."

"i'm never using that name for you again." you said, trying not to let your voice waver, to stay strong in what you knew to be the best thing for you to do, to not show how much you wanted him to ruin you in the way you hadn't been ruined in so long.

"i bet i could make you." rafe's lips were so close to yours that you could feel the breaths he let out as he whispered those words.

"bet you-"

before you could finish your sentence, the hot lips you used to know so well were once again on yours, and just like all those times, you gave into it, gave into him way too easily, your lips parting almost automatically to allow rafe's tongue into your mouth.

rafe pushed you against the wall, his hand creeping down from your waist to under the hem of your skirt, his fingers traveling up your thigh painfully slowly, your body so attuned to his it's like you can feel every small ridge, as well as the bones and veins of his fingers. he always loved taking his time, loved making you suffer, loved making you feel like you were going to explode if you didn't have him right at that moment.

"i've missed this so much..." rafe mumbled as his lips moved from your lips, slowly meeting your neck, the small nips he left behind causing your breath to hitch, his other hand groping your tit through your bra, and it reminded you of all the times he'd treat you like shit in front of others, only to pull you into a dark corner and manhandle you, and how much you loved it.

you arched into rafe's touch as his fingers teased the edge of your panties, and when his fingers only brushed against the wet spot in your panties, you let out a small whine, and you knew he was thriving from how easy it was for him to make you come undone.

"tell me you want me..." he mumbled against your neck as his hand started circling your clit through your panties, making them cling to your panties.

it was the last thing you wanted to say; but your vocal chords disagreed with you. it was like the warm feeling in your stomach was controlling everything you did, everything you felt, everything you thought.

"i want you..." you managed to breathe out, the man adding pressure onto his finger as he continued rolling your clit.

"say it."

"i wa-"

"not that." rafe delivered a sharp smack to your pussy and you gasped at the small squelching noise it'd caused, "call me what you used to call me."

"rafe..."

he brought the same hand that had slapped your pussy, and slapped your cheek, making you wince. it wasn't hard, but rafe always knew how to push your buttons. rafe grabbed your jaw, making you look up at him.

"say it."

"s-sir..." you whispered, your cheeks burning with shame, and you were overtaken with thoughts of all the things he had done to get you to call you that, but rafes lips twisted into a wicked grin.

"awww, such a good little slut." he cooed mockingly, "open your mouth." hesitantly, you opened your mouth further, rafe gathering some saliva onto his lips before he spit it into your mouth, enjoying the look of pure humiliation on your face as he watched you swallow it. "pull up your skirt."

you pulled up your skirt, your face still burning hot from humiliation as you looked up, wanting to look anywhere but at him, feeling rafe's long fingers on the waistband of your panties, the fabric starting to detach from your folds, rafe's breathing getting heavier.

you were attacked by sensations when rafe's lips ravenously attached themselves to your cunt, your head throwing back in pleasure as he basically made out with your sopping wet folds, your hand going to his buzzcut, reminding you of the way you used to grip onto the douchey haircut he used to have, on a boy who didn't look quite as defined as the man currently devouring you.

when you felt his tongue circling your entrance, dipping in and out of you teasingly, your walls started clenching around nothing, the world around you might as well have disappeared and turned into heaven. rafe detached himself from your pussy, and as you looked down at him drowsily, rafe's pupils were dilated, his lips covered in your arousal, the man looking like he'd gotten drunk just from tasting you.

"i missed my girl..." rafe murmured, pressing gentle kisses on your pussy, "she still gets so fucking wet f'me... she probably misses my cock so bad... you probably haven't found anyone who fills my princess up like i do, have you?"

"n-no..." you stuttered, making rafe tsk.

"that won't work. she gotta remember who her daddy is."

rafe lifted you up by the back of your thighs, causing you to let out a small squeal as your arms flew to hold on to the back of his neck, only for him to turn around, taking a few steps and placing you onto the edge of the railing, starting to unbuckle his belt.

"rafe, we're on my patio..."

"so?" he chuckled, his hands on his zipper, "it's not like outside of your house is the most scandalous place where we've had fun, is it?"

your cheeks started warming up when you remembered all the places where rafe had managed to get you to give in to him, where you'd begged for him to touch you in the way only he knew how to.

rafe pulled his trousers down, his cock bulging in his calvin kleins, a small wet spot visible on the white fabric until he tugged his boxers down just enough to free his cock, giving it slow, languid strokes. "tell me how you've much you want me inside of you..."

as you looked down at his cock, your tongue between your teeth, you felt hunger like never before; you couldn't care that you were outside your house and anyone could walk in at any moment, or that rafe was an asshole, the only thing you cared about was the way his cock felt inside you, the way it reached something in you no one else managed to, the thing you'd spent various nights trying to mimic with your rabbit toy, to no avail.

"so bad..." you choke out, and although it was the god-honest truth, it felt like the words were razorblades coming up your throat, only made better by the feeling the tip of rafe's cock rubbing on your clit, the man drawing circles on it like he was creating a masterpiece instead of just teasing the hell out of you. "please..."

he slid his length down your plump folds, making you held your breath as you waited to feel him invade you, only for rafe to stop at your entrance. if you were able to even think at that moment, you would've simply pulled him closer to you, but with rafe, he always held all the cards. he knew how to control you.

but the moment you felt only the head of his cock enter you, your vision was blurred. one of rafe's hands moved to grab the flesh of your ass while the other one still held you up. as he starts moving further into you, you let out a mewl that was meant to be his name but ended up being incomprehensible. it was like he was fucking made for you, like his cock was shaped just to fit inside you like a puzzle.

"my baby's still so fuckin' tight..." rafe rasped, and what started as a calm pace turned into him slamming all of himself into you, and if he didn't keep moving inside of you, you could've sworn you died the moment the head of his cock was slammed against your cervix.

"still such a good little slut f'me, hm?"

you rolled your hips against his, every thrust feeling more and more delicious; and like always, you forgot everything. you forgot who you were, where you were, what this was. none of it mattered. nothing, but him.

rafe's thumb moved to circle your clit as he continued rolling his hips into you, timing every slam to your cervix with a roll of your clit, making you ascend. he knew you, and he knew just what to do to make you weak, to make you his.

you tried to tell him you were close, that you were coming, but all that'd leave your lips were incomprehensible moans.

rafe moaned when he felt your walls tightening, pulsing around his cock, a sound so delicious you wished you could've recorded so you could touch yourself to it, yet he continued his movements in you, only now much slower and with much more groaning due to the muscles clenching around him.

"g'na come in you..." rafe mumbled against your shoulder, and you squealed and nearly screamed, when the head of his cock pressed against your cervix mid-orgasm. "f-fuck, you still feel so fucking good..."

he stilled inside of you, pulling your body even closer to his, letting out a groan, and although you couldn't feel it due to the intensity of your orgasm, you knew rafe had just delivered on his promise.

[yanderedrabbles]

Letters from a Yandere Vampire

December 7th, 1886

Dear y/n,

Please do not think me presumptuous for writing to you so soon, but my heart would give me no rest. I have been unable to stop thinking of you since our encounter at the Duke's soiree.

Perhaps it is my countenance or perhaps my foreign heritage, but London's débutantes seem to find me positively frightful. I had resigned myself to yet another evening of disappointment when you introduced yourself to me.

In all my travels, I have met few ladies with your boldness of spirit. You transformed my dour evening into one of unimaginable enjoyment.

I have included with my letter some pressed flowers from my native Transylvania. You expressed much interest in the botany of my homeland and I hope these will intrigue you.

Your interest in my travels is remarkably flattering. And, if I may be so bold, may I invite you to a dinner at my salon? I have much still to share.

Yours sincerely,

Count Nicolae Drăculești

December 17th, 1886

My dearest y/n,

How I enjoyed our evening together! When we danced, I felt my soul set afire. In my travels, none have so captivated me.

Do not think me hasty, but I have sent my messenger with a gift. I can think of no better place for these jewels than around your neck. Please, accept them with my most sincere compliments.

You amused me very much when you pointed out my teeth. My fangs are indeed much longer and sharper than a normal man's. Perhaps you wish to feel their sharpness against your skin?

The nights grow longer and colder. Do you dislike the winter darkness, I wonder. Or do you only long for someone to share it with, as I do?

Ah, forgive my rambling! I'm writing to ask if you will allow me the privilege of escorting you to the Yuletide ball? I can think of no finer gift to celebrate Christmas.

I must soon depart for my home and I insist on spending more time together before then.

Yours,

Nicolae Drăculești

December 25th, 1886

My love,

Merry Christmas! I walked through the untouched snow and even London seemed beautiful and pure.

In this cold, I can think of nothing but having you with me. A day without you is an eternity past.

It seems I have been waiting for you for centuries. Is it to bold to say you are the woman of my dreams? Forgive this fool his insolence, but when I write to you I feel possessed.

You have asked me at length about my aversion to the Church and silver. You are such a logical creature but there are some things beyond the realm of science.

Seek to know no more, for both our sakes.

Another matter has been bothering me of late. I have noticed Lord Lancaster has expressed an interest in you.

The man fawns over you like a slobering hound. As your companion, it is my duty to advise against him. He is unworthy of your attention, much less your sympathy. 

Surely you see that it is you and I that are the more compatible match?

Ever yours,

Nicușor

January 1st, 1887

Dear,

I wished to keep you ignorant of my nature. And yet, you have seen me unmasked. A creature of the night.

It was your blood that did it. A single drop was all it took for my instinct to take over.

I hope you are unhurt. If I were in my right mind, I never would have pinned you against the wall as I did. I never would have forced my kiss upon you.

I could hear your heart racing when I showed you my fangs. Why did you not scream?

Did I fighten you into silence? Or was it something else?

You asked me what you are to me and at the time I had no answer to give. Are you my prey? My meal?

I have spent all night in thought and still I fear uttering these words.

You are my beloved.

My heart belongs entirely to you, wretched and sinful though it may be. No blood is sweeter than yours.

I burn for you, my darling.

I grow agitated at each day that passes when we are not together. My treacherous mind plays such awful tricks on me. Surely you have not cast me aside for another? Or worse, have I frightened you beyond redemption?

Oh, banish the thought! Who has your affection? Your love?

Please, put my poor heart at ease. Meet me in the gazebo at the end of your garden after sunset.

I cannot bear to be parted from you much longer.

Ever your slave,

Nicușor

y/n,

My castle must be prepared for your arrival and I have set forth with great haste to do so. In case you awake before my return, I've left you this letter.

You are currently on board a private train car bound for Transylvania. Do not attempt to leave. My guards have strict orders to ensure you reach home.

You are changed, my dear.

I have bitten you and transformed you into a creature like myself. Upon our final meeting, I intended only to say goodbye. You are too fine and beautiful a creature to be wasted on the likes of me.

But when I saw you in the moonlight, I could not help myself.

You are so beautiful. So bright and lively. You are what my cold halls have lacked all these many years.

My love, I drank your blood. Every drop of it. Nothing in my centuries of existence has ever tasted so sweet, so right.

It can be frightening, I know. But do not despair.

The light of the sun will forever be out of reach, but there are a thousand traits you've gained. Strength. Speed. Immortality.

The grave will never taste your flesh, old age will never hound at your door.

As I am the one who changed you, I am also your Lord and Master. The bond between us is forged in blood. Wherever I go, you must always follow. If I am to die, so shall you. If I am to command, you must obey.

It is a tight leash and not one of my devising, I assure you.

I intend to be your partner and not your Lord. So for both our sakes, my love, do not give me cause to use that power.

You and I have all eternity together. Does it please you as it does me?

I have longed for a bride for centuries. You cannot imagine the loneliness. And in all those years, none have impressed themselves upon my heart as you have.

I have stolen you from the sunshine and into my world of night and blood. I have ripped away any hope of heaven and salvation. No God now, no church or altar.

I am a rogue and a thief and still I beg of you. Please love, do not hate me.

I've made you into my vampire bride.

Your husband,

Nicușor Drăculești