#a bit early because I'm not sure if I'll have time tomorrow

[helsensm]

was I purposefully choosing only Kung Lao art? yes, and?

so… crazy year, huh?

I don’t really like doing this, but I guess it’s kinda a tradition – to look back at the end of the year and reflect? And this one was… something. Political and global stuff aside, it was a weird year personally. Usually there’s not much going on in my life, especially compared to the stagnant Great Artblock period of 2020-2023. But this year…

This was a year, when some of my friends had to deal with devastating news. A year, when I lost my 18 y/o cat, and hardly does a day go by that I don’t miss her. A year when both my mental and physical health has declined rapidly. A year, when I relapsed and attempted suісide. A year, when it seems like nothing in my life changed for good.

But also it was a year, when I was drawing the most. A year, when I finally did things I've been putting off for too long. A year, when I fixed my pronoun in all the bios. A year, when I found new people, good people, skilled and inspiring. And a year, when I met up with friends I haven't seen in a while. A year, when I called for help and decided to stay. A year, when I received so much love – and I really hope I gave back enough too.

Thank you all for being with me this year and I wish you a fantastic 2025! 🥂💖

[quitedisastrous]

i wish i could just do nothing for a few days straight. maybe even just sleep for a few days straight. sooo excited for constant misery over the next 20 days

ranting in the tags. i would just scroll past if i were you

[phantomrose96]

Okay I have a story.

So my birthday is this Sunday (May 26th). My mom ordered some presents for me but one of them (an Etsy purchase) was seemingly stuck in transit and might not make it on time. I tell my mom all good, no worries. She gets in contact with the seller. After a long delay in response they get back with "Right we'll fix it!" It ships, tracking label and everything, good to go! ETA May 22nd (yesterday.)

During the work day I check the tracking and it says it's been delivered in/at mailbox! I double check with my mom "hey, is it mailbox size?" because if not, I don't want it sitting at the front door where anyone walking by could snag it.

She says "it's definitely NOT mailbox size." Okay. I text my neighbors in the building "Anyone seen a package delivered? It's a birthday gift from my mom and I wanna make sure it gets inside!" Success! Floor 2 David (not to be confused with Floor 1 David) had brought it inside. Inform my mom. All good!

I stop by home briefly around 4pm, because yesterday was hot-hot and I just installed my window A/C that morning in the living room, and according to my cat cam my stupid cat hasn't spent a single second in the climate controlled living room and is, instead, voluntarily baking herself elsewhere so I'm like "great" and hop on my bike to go home (10 minute ride) to check on her.

I get in the building door. Patches is crying from the top floor because she heard me. I maneuver my bike in the front hall. The ugliest fucking 6-foot-tall cat tree(?)/totem(?)/statue(?) I've seen in my entire life is just. Standing there.

My first thought is "What the fuck is that." My second thought is "Oh fuck that is for me." I look around at the floor in case there's perhaps anything else that might, in fact, be the gift.

No. Me and Cat Pole.

It's taller than me. I turn it around to face me and its face is painted and this is, in fact, uglier than it looked from the back.

Um.

Patches is crying. So I just haul it up to my level. MAYBE it was supposed to come with twine that I wrap around it (and hide its face from the world) for Patches to scratch. Maybe this is a prank. Maybe this is an inside joke, because when my mom moved into her current house the neighborhood gifted her some ugly-as-hell totem that apparently, by tradition, each newest-comer to the neighborhood is required to have and display in their window so maybe this is a very good riff on that.

Patches rubs against it. She's not afraid of this horrid facsimile of her kind.

Great.

Meanwhile SHE'S fine and the condo is a little toasty but totally liveable so I'm like "Good, cool, you're not baking. You're having a good time. Enjoy your new sister, I guess, I'll see you later."

I go back to work because this is a problem for later me.

After work, after my run, after whatever, I get home and it's like 8:00pm and Patches is so happy to see me and the totem pole is still just. There.

I text my friends like "so a bday gift is here from my mom and it's the Biggest Ugliest cat pole I've seen in my life. Is this a bit? Did my mom go 'that's so ugly haha! send!' Maybe she genuinely found it cute. How do I navigate this." My friend Sarah has the good advice to maybe text my mom neutrally like "Got the cat pole!" and feel the waters whether my mom is like "Isn't it ugly? 😂" or "Hope Patches likes it! 🥰"

My mom goes to bed early so I don't do any of that yet. Problem for tomorrow me.

This morning, Patches wakes me up for breakfast. I get her situated and I'm staring at the fucking Cat Pole again. I wonder if my Mom's been wondering all night what I thought of it.

I take a picture. I text her.

Okay.

I get on call with my mom. I ask for clarity that the ungodly horrid thing is NOT my birthday gift and is in fact a mix-up from the seller who sent me this instead of my actual gift. She's wheezing between words. She thinks I'm being too charitable for the amount of Absolute Fucking Ugly this is. I have to gently talk her out of using the word "monstrosity" while messaging the seller asking what the hell happened here.

I tell her I need to apologize for harming her dignity with Floor 2 David, who thinks this fucking thing is my mom's idea of a great birthday gift for her to-be-28-year-old daughter.

My heart goes out to the poor soul who did actually order this cat totem and is lacking it on this lovely day.

[opheliachoii]

Toothbrush ლ

FEATURING : Reo Mikage, Kunigami Rensuke, Isagi Yoichi, Yukimiya Kenyu, and Nagi Seishiro

ABOUT : You're relationship was like into the point of "What are we?" type. Leaving your toothbrush at their place was their last straw.

note : got really busy because of uni.. But enjoy!!

❥･• Reo Mikage

— Reo was peacefully sleeping on his bed with only boxers on. You, as a cheeky person woke up early and prepped up and slowly left his room, leaving a letter on the pillow you used when you slept next to him.

— Time Skip —

Reo soon opens his eyes, as the sun hits his Iris. He turns to his side, expecting you to be there, but it was an empty spot, leaving Reo sulking.

"She's always like this. Does she even know what are we? Or has she not decided yet..." Reo asked himself, as he sat up from laying in bed. Then he turned to the spot you slept in and saw your letter.

Hey plum head~ I enjoyed last night, I went out early, got some errands to do, see you again anytime ;)

"Tch- reasons." Reo just threw your letter back to his bed and went in to the bathroom to freshen up.

He picked up a toothbrush, as he was gonna start brushing his teeth, he paused and scanned the toothbrush he was holding, it wasn't his..

It was yours.

"Fuck this." He placed your toothbrush and went to grab his phone back in his bedroom, and dialed your number.

...

"Hello? Hey plum head! You called?"

"Fuck this shit, come back here, right. now."

You felt shivers down your spine at his tone "Woah there, what happened? I'm coming back tomorrow to return your sweater dumbass" you teased "No. Now."

You went silent in the end of the line.

"What are we.." He suddenly added.

"What are we? Uhm... Friends?" You awkwardly replied.

"Friends don't do what we do, baby come back please and let's sleep all day. I have enough with this shit." He sighed. Your stomach felt a tingle "B-but I—"

"You left your toothbrush here. Are there other reasons not to come back right now?"

"HUH? I DID? SHIT" You slightly panicked and ended the call.

And a few minutes then, you immediately arrived. "That was quick" Reo smirked as he was sitting on the edge of his bed, still with only boxers on "I- uhm.. Hi?" You said as you slowly took off his sweater.

You got startled as he suddenly stood up and carried you in bridal style and threw you in bed "HEY! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?"

"Stay. I had enough. Everytime I wake up in the morning I couldn't see that ravishing face of yours." He said as he suddenly kissed you "Now, answer me. What are we?"

You just stared at him filled with love in your eyes, and kissed him back, Reo was stunned.

"Guess.. Plum head."

❥･• Kunigami Rensuke

— Kunigami woke up and was about to hug you but, you were no longer there. "The heck?" He said with a bit if frustration in his tone. He sat up and spaced out for a moment and sighed.

"This woman sure knows how to play with me" He let out a cackle, and shook his head as he went to the bathroom.

He then saw your toothbrush. He just scoffed, grabbed his phone and took a picture both of your toothbrushes.

Rensuke : [ sent a photo ] Cute, like a married couple.

As he was about to put his phone down to brush his teeth, he heard a notification from his phone

You : [ HUH— I LEFT MY TOOTHBRUSH?! JUST GREAT- I'm so sorry T-T I'll get it back this Friday ]

Rensuke : [ Nah, now. Let's brush our teeth together ]

You : [ You gotta be fr- ]

Rensuke : [ Sent a photo ] In a few seconds imma dump this in the toilet >:) ]

He noticed you left him on seen, probably so pissed by the situation, he laughed. "That should do the trick."

— Time Skip —

As he finished showering, he suddenly heard someone barging on the door "KUNIGAMI RENSUKE! GET OUT THIS INSTANT!" He chuckled.

"Well it did work" He smirked, as he got out from the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around him "Wha— HEY!! GO CHANGE THE HECK?" He suddenly pounced you, leaving you laying in bed while he was hovering over you.

"Why do always leave me hanging like this.." He spoke as you two had a heavy eye contact "What do you mean?" You got startled as he suddenly kissed you "That."

Your lips suddenly went apart, not knowing what to say. "What are we... I don't want to be like this any longer... The toothbrush was my last straw." He cried.

"I love you!!" You suddenly screamed in his face, leaving him speechless.

"I love you okay!! Damn it.. I thought we're just gonna be friends, I guess we levelled up" You chuckled. He soon scooped you into a hug, and kissed you again.

"FINALLY!! WOOOO!! I CAN FINALLY CONFIRM I AM NO LONGER SINGLE!!" Both of you laughed while still laying in bed.

❥･• Isagi Yoichi

— Isagi woke up as he slowly went to the bathroom being unbothered. But then, he saw your toothbrush next to his. Staring at it for a while, then gasped as he realized.

"SHIT.." Was the word that first came out from his mouth. He quickly went back to the bedroom and saw the bed empty.

"You got to be kidding me.." He grabbed his phone and called you.

"C'mon, pick up the phone..."

...

"Hello? Yoichi?"

He gulped for a second before responding to you at the end of the line. "Where are you..?" He waited for you to reply. "Uhm.. Back home?"

"Oh c'mon, I feel so dumb right now.. Can you come back? It's always like this... You left your toothbrush here"

"Oh shit- REALLY? Can you bring it over?" You pleaded "I could, but I will not." He replied "AW— WHY? Just because it's "only" a toothbrush?"

"I want you to come back here, baby." You went silent.

"B-baby...?! Yoichi.. What's got into you?" "Why stuttering? I said what I said. Now come back, your baby needs you" You sighed "I guess it's time.." You ended the call.

"Huh? Time—?" You left Isagi dumbfounded at what you said.

— Time Skip —

"Yoichi..." You arrived as he stood immediately from bed "PLEASE PLEASE" He suddenly hugged you "Please, don't leave like that next time... You do this every single time..."

"But I thought we're just friends?" You tried to confirm "Do friends kiss each other at night? Make out at nigh—"

"OKAY OKAY I GET IT" You groaned as you stared at Isagi, looking back at you with his boba eyes. "What are we..."

"Okay, maybe I do love you.." "Only maybe?"

"I do. Love you. Yoichi." You sighed, but smiled. "There I said it."

Isagi gave you a peck on the lips "I love you too.. FINALLY I CAN GET TO SAY THAT" He pulled you back to his bed.

"Yoichi... Can you let go— you know what, nevermind, let's rot ourselves in bed the whole day" He hummed as he agreed with your idea. In which you two had closed your eyes and went back to sleep.

❥･• Nagi Seishiro

— Nagi woke up so late, he soon started to stretch his body, but instantly got up from bed because of his leg cramps from stretching.

"Ouch! Ouch!" He groaned. He lazily yawned once again and turned to see an empty space next to him.

"She's gone. Again." He sighed, he stood from his bed and went to the bathroom.

As he was still half asleep, he grabbed your toothbrush by mistake, he noticed beforehand. "This isn't mine.." He paused for a few minutes, he stared at his reflection in the mirror for a while.

"IT'S HERS.." His energy soon boosted through the roof, trying to find his phone. It took him a couple of minutes to notice his phone fell at the corner of his bed, "shit."

He soon tried to call you but didn't respond, leaving him pouting in bed. "She always leaves me like this.." He sighed.

— Time Skip —

You soon decided to return at Nagi's place with a bunch of foods from the convenience store, only to see Nagi laying in bed, staring at the ceiling with zero thoughts.

"Uh... Shiro? Hello? Yoohoo!! Brought breakfast for us— HEY!" He suddenly pulled you back to bed.

"Don't scare me like that again... Leaving without a trace..." He hugged you tightly.

"Uhm.. Shiro you okay? Has something bumped your head? Or are you just hungry?" You asked.

"What are we?" Your eyes widened as he asked the question so randomly "What?"

"I don't need to repeat it.. You heard what I said.." He stared at you blankly. "C'mon. Before I could say something crazy.."

"I.. I.."

"I love you." He whispered.

You froze, "Shiro..." "I love you. Don't leave me again like that please. I'm too lazy to wake up early, please don't leave without me noticing.."

You laughed "Shiro, you're so cute.." You gave him a kiss on the forehead "So was that an 'I love you too'? Hmm?" You chuckled.

"Well, I love you too..." You awkwardly reply "We're official now, you're mine now!" He cuddled you tightly in bed, leaving you feel ticklish. "SHIRO STOP!! IT'S TICKLISH!!" You couldn't stop laughing.

"Leave your toothbrush here so that everyone will know that my future wife is living with me."

"Toothbrush? HUH? I LEFT IT HERE?! "Shh... Let's go back to sleep.." He said as he laid your head in his chest, in which you felt warmth and slowly drifted to sleep, and Nagi lazily spoke with his chasmic voice.

"You can always leave a toothbrush at my place baby."

End.

[heich0e]

"you leave narita tomorrow night at eleven, which puts you in paris around seven in the morning, local time." you lock the screen of your tablet, tucking it against your abdomen. "your first meeting isn't until early afternoon, so you'll have time to head to the hotel and rest for a bit."

"and you?" on the other side of the room, seated primly in an armchair with his legs crossed at the knee, sae waits for your response.

"i wasn't able to get a seat on that flight, so i'll follow on the first flight out the next morning. it leaves a bit before four."

you suddenly remember the cup of coffee you'd abandoned in your office down the hall. it had long gone cold, but you were still drinking it. you wish you had it with you now—the boost of caffeine, whatever temperature, would be appreciated.

sae looks out the window of his pristine office, the city lights are just starting to glow under the dusky sky. "in the morning?"

"yes."

you aren't necessarily looking forward to getting on an international flight before dawn, but there wasn't any other option.

"a sleepless night for you, then."

your boss isn't wrong. you won't be getting home until late tomorrow night, after seeing him safely off to his own departure. you'll have just enough time—you hope—to pack your luggage and make your way to the airport. you force a smile.

"i'll just sleep on the plane."

a lie, decidedly. you've never been able to sleep on planes. not even on a nearly fifteen hour flight like the one from tokyo to paris. it's particularly unfortunate, because your later departure (and therefore later arrival) won't afford you the same luxury of resting in the hotel before the afternoon meeting.

sae's been busy lately, which means you've been even busier. when the french atelier requested a meeting with him, just ahead of paris fashion week, you didn't think your boss would (or could) possibly accept it. but to your own surprise he'd insisted on attending. some offhanded remark about strengthening business relationships outside of athletic brands. it was then left to you to shift everything else in his life around to make the meeting work.

it's meant nearly a week of sleepless nights. and plenty of room temperature cups of coffee. but you'd made it happen.

"there are plenty of other seats open on this flight."

your attention snaps back to the man in front of you, only to see he's pulled his phone out from his pocket and is staring intently at the screen. you falter.

"i'm sure that it was fully—"

"i'm looking at at least half a dozen seats left available," sae doesn't even let you finish your sentence, interrupting you tersely. "the one immediately behind me is free."

he looks up at you with a cool, flat expression.

"that's business class, sae-san." you answer, keeping your tone light and hopefully not condescending or reproachful. his name still feels awkward in your mouth, even after three years of working for him, but he insists all the staff refer to him by his given name.

you've always wondered why he prefers it to the family name, but would never dare to ask.

his expression doesn't shift as he watches you, but something in the air seems sharper now. "i'm aware. i do know how to read."

you feel queasy, and your weight shifts from one foot to the other. you scramble to think of what to say.

sae beats you to it.

"change your flight."

then he tucks the phone back into the pocket of his coat, and resumes peering through the window.

"if my options are to pay slightly extra for a different seat, or have an assistant who hasn't slept in a week with me at the meeting, the choice should be fairly obvious."

"yes." you swallow hard, and your grip on your tablet tightens. "i'm sorry, sae-san."

he lifts a hand and waves you away dismissively. you understand that as your cue to leave.

just before you make it to the door he stops you.

"before you go, i'd like a coffee."

you pause, peering back over your shoulder. it's late in the day for sae to be drinking a coffee. he's not even particularly fond of it to begin with so the request strikes you as being a bit strange.

"of course. would you like me to prepare it, or is there a particular coffee shop you have in mind?"

his hand settles in his lap again.

"that shop the staff is partial to is fine."

there's a cafe just across the road from the office, which has long hours and surprisingly good coffee. you perk up slightly—you'll be able to get yourself something while you're there.

"yes, certainly. i'll be back shortly with your drink."

sae says nothing. doesn't even bother turning to watch you bow as you take your leave.

in spite of your exhaustion, there's a little skip in your step as you race across the street towards the coffee shop—directly underneath the lit window of your boss's office, where he's waiting (and watching) for your prompt return.

[strawberrynightmere]

Bad Cats!!! [Yandere Andrew Graves x female reader]

Warning ⚠️: yandere tendencies, alternate universe, ruining dates, will add more latter, this is short.

A/n: to those who harassed the creator of the intentionally disturbing and grosse horror game, I wish a big ol' FUCK YOU.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

If you were honest with yourself, this was your fault. Though you shouldn't beat yourself up about it, you should be surprised by the other hand.

From either of your cats, you expected this from Ashley, but Andrew attacking your date? Makes you really think.

Your date didn't like it one bit and stormed out of your apartment. You obviously did chase after them to check if they were okay, and then got rejected in a hurtful way, too. Calling you a future cat lady who's gonna die old and alone.

To say your attraction for them instantly dropped to a -1000 was an understatement. You'd understand if they left because they were allergic or something, but insulting any cat lady and saying you were gonna die old and alone simply because you have two cats was just a jackass thing to do.

Flopping on your couch face first, you groan into the cushions in frustration. It's been so long since you had a date that went well, and a good fuck too.

"Meow."

You lift your head up to see Andrew sitting in front of you. The cat leans down and licks your face. Sitting up, you lift Andrew to your eye level.

"I should be mad at you. However, you did save me from what possibly could've been." Andrew just rubs his face on yours just for some more affection.

"Hehe! That's enough. Let's get you something to eat." Those words were like some form of a summon because Ashley appeared on your shoulder without any sound.

You went into the kitchen and poured some food into their bowls, and went to grab something for yourself from the fridge.

While sitting at the dining table, you contemplate if you should make a phone call or not.

Oh, what the hell you planned to sleep in anyway.

You immediately call your friend to tell her how it went.

"It didn't go good, did it?"

"Well gee, Nina! What do you think about how it went?!" Irritated with her instant and correct assumption, you use a sarcastic reply.

"Alright! Tell me what happened."

Much better.

"It was going well at first. I was feeling it. They were feeling it, too."

"Get to the point."

"Getting there. But when we got to my place, Andrew wasn't feeling it." You hear her laughing in amusement over the phone.

"I'm serious! He attacked them, and then they said some real out of pocket stuff to me."

She's still laughing.

"I'm sorry, Andrew? Are you sure it wasn't Ashley?"

Alright, just because they were both black cats, it didn't mean you couldn't tell the difference between them. You told her that a million times.

"If you're just gonna laugh, then I'll hang up."

"Sorry! Sorry. I just didn't expect it."

You sigh. "Whatever."

"Listen, let's talk tomorrow, I'm going to bed early."

"Alright." You hang up.

"Should've called Julia instead."

You jolt in surprise when you see Andrew sitting on the table, staring at you. "We talked about this." Actually, you talked, were either of them listening or not was a mystery. You place him on the floor and put your empty dishes in the dishwasher and decide you should call it a night and head to bed.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Once, Andrew was sure you were deep asleep. He changed into his human form and crawled in bed with you.

"You should've seen your face, Andy, I was so sure you were gonna claw their eyes out." Ashley, who was still in her cat form, spoke.

"Why are you still here?" Andrew whispered irritatedly.

"Oh, come on, I'm living the life of luxury. Why should I leave?" Andrew just rolled his eyes at his sister's excuse, but he knew she'd rather eat glass than admit that she got attached to you.

Deciding to ignore her, Andrew continued to cuddle up to you.

"Aww, you stiw angwy youw giwfwiend bwout someone ewse home?" Now that wasn't needed.

"Shut up."

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

A/n: it wasn't that good, but it wasn't that bad.

[from-izzy]

WITHIN HIS FRAME | THE BOYZ KIM SUNWOO

The familiarity drives you insane, as much as it makes you sane.

synopsis » three years, limited communication. usually you would listen to your mum. but not this time. not when your heart still inevitably belongs to kim sunwoo. it's just that...does he still have space for you in his life?

pairing » the boyz kim sunwoo x fem!reader

trope/au » friends to lovers, slight strangers to lovers, (implied) rich girl x (not so) poor boy, non-idol au, slight high school au (flashbacks), university/college break au (is when the story takes place)

genre » super fluffy, hurt/comfort >>>>>>, SLOW-BURN (just look at the wc...), sunwoo and reader are blind and soooo lovesick for each other that i got really pissed at them both (...and i wrote them-), sunwoo takes care of reader so well, the boy is super in love with you, photographer sunwoo who loves to look at pictures of you (and him)

word count ; estimated reading time » 27,768 ; ...i am so sorry-

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » slightly suggestive, toxic family dynamic (reader with mother), mentions of unknown sharing of live locations, kissing, assuming others' feelings/thoughts, reader and sunwoo being unsure of themselves, swearing, insecurities, pet names (bubs), reader implied to be physically shorter and smaller than sunwoo, proofread chapter-by-chapter

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 the boyz masterlist 🤍 part of 'especially to you...'

hmm...honestly, i'm not too sure how to start off with introducing this story 🥀 you're about to read a story that i've had in my drafts for a very long time because 1) i've been scared to write it and 2) i didn't have a lot of energy to write a story that means so much to me.

this story is a very dramatised way of what my life could be like if i followed my heart more. a happy ending...? maybe? we'll never know because we never know where life takes us. my mum is actually one of the biggest supporter in my life so the reader's mother role in this story is like a 'what if my mum wasn't the person she is?' 🥹 i'm super thankful for her, but sometimes i think about what would it be like if i got more support, you know? and sunwoo in this story? he represents everything that i would have chased if i wasn't so easily controlled by the world.

i'll forever be stuck with the 'if only i did it' but maybe-just maybe-i'll learn bit by bit to do what i want to do ❤️‍🩹 so here i represent you cupid's mistake's sibling and my longest fic by date to be published 🫂

thank you to everyone who listened to me yap about this baby and happy birthday, kim sunwoo 💗

ONE: SHE'S WHAT?!

It's a peaceful morning for Millie who has decided to reward her early mornings by sleeping in for the Sunday. Tomorrow, a new weekday would begin and rest is essential if she wants to deal with energetic primary school children for another week. Habitually, she reaches for her phone on the bedside table, scrolling through less important messages until one immediately rids any tiredness from her system.

"What?!" Her back springs from the mattress, eyes wide on the photo message from you.

Smiling like nothing matters in the world.

With a peace sign beside your face.

Beside you, an oval-like window.

Outside, blue sky and white clouds.

You're on a plane.

And judging by the way you decided to send this to her, Millie can only assume you're on the way here. Back to Korea. Back to your homeland where you haven't set foot for three years. You missed Christmas, your birthday, New Year and even Halloween with your best friend and her high school sweetheart as well as your cousin, Eric Sohn. Sure, care packages were sent and video calls were made despite time and body clock differences, but nothing can beat being in the same place with your loved ones.

Other than the fact that Millie had to borrow her mum's car without much explanation, the only thing she could think about is your unplanned arrival.

"How annoying." She isn't sure if she's talking about you or the traffic piled up nearer to the airport. "And the parking fee, too?! I'm going to make her pay for that..." A fake, somewhat menacing smile makes its way on her face at the double-digit fee at the first hour.

Regardless, you're still her best friend, and even though she has so many ways of scolding you, Millie would be there whenever you needed her. On the way, her mind couldn't help but wonder about the answers to your actions. You're not necessarily the type to do something so unplanned, yet at the same time, maybe she should've expected this with your insistence in coming back. 

To come back to breathe Korea's air. To be back to celebrate all those missed occasions. To eat ramen with Eric by the Han River. To go on a shopping spree with her and regret the low figures of your bank account later.

Or to come back because you miss a certain someone.

Millie heaves a sigh, relaxing her shoulders and leaning against her seat. Her eyes drift to the photograph on her dashboard: a group graduation photo. There's a bittersweet feeling for the boy who has his arm wrapped around your lower back. Kim Sunwoo’s smile is not what they should be paying attention to, but his other clenched fist by his side, and the spark gone from his eyes.

"Can't blame him," a sombre smile forming on her lips. "Kim Sunwoo is a coward who has been pining for you for a long time, you know?" 

It’s excruciating for everyone to watch you and Sunwoo hopelessly in love for the longest time. She and Eric promised not to involve themselves too much during high school, believing that there was still a lot of time to be spared. As time passed, so did the lingering wish that she at least nudged in some way. Given the external circumstances, though, would anything have changed even with her or Eric’s interference? 

"The world isn't fair to you both. It sucks."

The grip on the leathered steering wheel supports Millie’s words. A few seconds later, another thought emerges, and her grip loosens. The fact that you're here, assumingly through your actions, could it be? 

That you're trying to at least be fairer to your heart?

TWO: HALF OF THE GROUP REUNITED

It's totally unplanned- well, to a certain extent.

You were fully awake when you booked that plane ticket, fingers dragging across the cold touchpad. You were aware of putting in the dates of your one-way flight, clicking away. You were aware of the last minute packing accompanied by the sunrise, yawning mid-way.

Even on the plane right now, as the flight attendant asks you to put your window cover back up, you're aware of how the letters surrounding you will change. People will speak in Korean, almost foreign to you now. But that's okay. Because you're home. At the very least, with your heart racing like crazy, you've stepped foot into the place you've been longing for.

With that, not only the place but also the people. The ones you've missed dearly. The ones you kept in touch with for your years abroad; the ones that you were on the brink of losing as well.

"Oh," kind of breath taken with the bustling pace of the airport.

The adrenaline has run out as your shaking legs make it hard for you to walk. The shops within the airport have slightly changed, some undergoing renovations so you couldn't even take a peak. You chew on your bottom lip at the unfamiliarity of your homeland, wondering if this anxiety will fade. When your phone is spammed with messages, you know it will soon.

WTFKFJFFJ HUH?!??? WDYM YOURE JN THE AIR? BITCH WIPE THAT PRETTYS LIFTLE SMILE OFF YOUR FACR THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MY DAY OFF INSIDE THE FUCKIMG HOUSEEWTFFFFF WE HAVE A LOT TO TALK ABIUT MISSY

"Some things didn't change," you chuckle as you react to Millie's messages. Before you can go through all of them, your screen flashes with your cousin's name, bright and clear with the profile picture you haven't changed since high school.

"You’re in Korea?!" His surprised voice blasts through the speaker. You flinch, distancing your phone away from your ear. "Girl, why didn’t you tell me?! Did you tell Millie?! Or Sunw-”

"Not even a 'hi' or 'hello'?" Grumbling at the lack of greeting. "Millie is picking me up soon, okay? I'm gonna have to listen to her yapping, so spare me the double lecture, Eric Sohn."

"You have no right to use my full name!"

Arguing with Eric over the phone like this, without seeing his wide eyes and flared nose feels weird as you're so used to videos. But you reassure yourself that this is better as you'll be able to see all of that first hand soon anyway.

"Ok, well, surprise? I'm in Korea!"

"No shit, you're in Korea?!" Eric cheers on the other line. "Clear your schedule out today! And tell Millie to pick me up after! Actually, you should come to sleep over at my house today!"

Right...the accommodation problem. There isn't one, especially when Eric is offering. But you also did promise yourself to muster the courage to at least go home, greet your parents first (and maybe get their lectures first and foremost) before going out to clear your head afterwards. 

They don't know you're here. 

You’ve gathered all your wages for the plane ticket, even upgrading your check-in weight for the one-way ticket. Millie is the first person to know of your arrival, and you only hope that it stops with Eric, but you're beginning to doubt that with his excitement. At this point, his whole neighbourhood would know of your return.

You've been dreading to see them, but you know dragging it out would be worse. You're in trouble for going against their words big time. For all you know, they could send you back without another word. "I have to tell my parents I'm here, Eric."

Your voice is low, head hung down as you stare at your lap. Eric realises the severity of the situation by your tone. Are your parents even going to let you live after showing up like this? Your parents are strict, expecting obedience with no explanation needed. The only difference is that the man isn't always home, and you hope that’s the case this time too so that you'll only deal with one thing at a time. 

“You bitch!!” The booming voice attracts bystanders and takes you out of your thoughts. You couldn’t even identify where the voice came from when your back takes the weight of friendship. “You are so dead!”

“Let me live!” Smacking Millie’s hands away.

“You let me live! I’m supposed to be rotting in bed, yet it’s twelve. I haven’t eaten breakfast, you’re here without a warning and-”

“Okay, I’ll buy you food! Just let me go!”

THREE: BELLY FULL, WALLET FULL

You swear that getting free food has been Millie’s plan all along. What made it worse is that you had to pay for your cousin, who you’re also convinced is on a mission to clear your wallet. As the two lovebirds chomp on their food with satisfying hums and thumbs, you know that some things didn’t change. With your three years abroad, Eric did visit you once in a while, and so did Millie last year. Both still stayed pronounced in your life.

 “You booked the ticket three days ago?” Eric exclaims with a full mouth. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“Whatever. I know you’re happy that I’m here.”

But the truth is that you knew that if you left it for too long, you would never have gotten on the plane. The ticket is expensive despite factoring the cheapest date and time. Even so, you know it’s best this way.

“And so? Are you going home, or are you staying over at my place?”

You shrug at the question. “I think I’ll just go home and break the news today. There’s no point dragging it on for longer.”

“Or your mum doesn’t have to know,” Millie suggests.

“Got a tracker app on my phone. It’s not gonna work. Honestly, I'm sure they know that I'm here and waiting for me.”

It’s a grim reminder for the couple who stops chewing on their food, solemn eyes on their half cooked beef. They understand that being abroad, it’s not a bad thing to keep a GPS tracker on your phone. They would understand and agree with that, but in reality, your mum has kept a tracker on you ever since you had a phone. 

Throughout high school and twenty-four-seven, she sent messages when they knew you weren’t going to make it home before curfew. As your friends, they try their best to keep their thoughts calm, respecting the set boundaries. Deep down, they’re sick of your controlling parents, and Millie rolling her eyes is an indication of it. Your shoulder bumps into her intentionally, giving her a smile that isn’t quite genuine. 

Millie dropped the topic, moving onto one that she had been dying to ask since she picked you up. “Does he know? Did you tell him that you’re here?” 

No name has been given, but everyone at the table knows exactly who is being referred to. The table is quiet; only the meat crackling on the stove and the loud ventilation of the overhead vacuum hide your nervousness. Millie spots your fingers playing with the cuffs of your sleeves, finding out the answer herself. 

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, Millie,” a blatant lie. “He really did limit his interactions with me for the past three years,” a painful truth following.

“Why are you here then? I know you’re not here just because you miss us. Or Korea. Or that you’re homesick.”

Hesitancy fills you, your voice refusing to come out. “I don’t know,” you repeat your denial.

“I know you know,” Millie called you out. “You know what? This isn’t productive,” she chugs the rest of the water in her cup, distributing the rest of the food between three plates. “Hurry and eat. We’re going somewhere.”

FOUR: A GLIMPSE OF HIM

The streets outside slowly shift from familiar buildings to new ones. At first, you thought that maybe being away from Korea was to blame, but looking at the street name and the GPS on Eric's phone, you're sure that you've never stepped foot in this area. Asking the purpose of why you're at this seemingly random street that has been shut down multiple times, Millie’s “you'll see” becomes the routine answer.

The side of your head leans onto the window, eyes gazing over the new sight. Even though nobody’s telling you anything, you can't help but be mesmerised by the new buildings. The purpose of this ride becomes evident when Eric secures a side road parking directly in front of a camera shop. From the exterior, the paint job is pristine and smooth. Either the weather hasn't eroded the white colour, the owner repaints often or the paint has some tough defense. 

Millie peeks through the rearview mirror, your raised eyebrows wanting an explanation. “We're here. Get out of the car.” She and Eric hop off, prompting you to do the same.

The car door shuts in one swing, but your arms flail exhausted next to your body. “I still don't understand why we're here-” It seems like Millie is growing impatient with your lack of analysing your surroundings.

Your best friend holds both your shoulders firmly, aligning your body with the camera shop. At first, your head shakes at your tattered reflection, and your mouth opens to complain until the figure inside the store shifts your attention from yourself to them. 

On the opposite side of the glass, Kim Sunwoo kneels to be on the same eye level as a weeping child. His hair is jet black, unlike the brown that you last saw him with. His strands are all over the place, not an unusual sight when it comes to him. Your fingers twitch as your instinct from high school comes, recalling all the times you parted his hair neatly, brushing his bangs out of his view. Sunwoo’s distinct toothy smile calms the child, the parent beside him heaving a sigh of relief. But for you, you stop breathing for a while, breath taken away by the sight that you have missed the most.

“It's actually him…” Your eyes refuse to blink in fear that he might disappear. 

Three years seems to be enough to change some things while others stay the same. However, the lingering feelings that you have for the boy just by a flash of his smile resurfaces. Suddenly, you know coming back is the right choice, but seeing Sunwoo right now isn't just yet. 

“This store is his,” Millie informs softly beside you. “It’s a small store but never his efforts. Did it all by himself.”

You audibly gasp at the news. You could imagine all the hard work Sunwoo had put into the store, both mentally and physically. The privacy inside the store is partly protected by a cloudy sticker, but shelves of his products peek out, lenses of cameras on display, waiting to capture someone's memories.

As the sunlight reflects off a lens, you let the light guide your feet forward. You let your feet gravitate closer, curiosity piqued at the store before you. The first step is easy, but the second displaces the light from its position. 

"I'll come back tomorrow. I'm sure he's tired and doesn't want to see anyon-"

“Go and talk to him,” Eric cuts you off. “Besides, it's his birthday today.”

"We’re gonna go buy a cake really quick. You go on ahead and surprise him," Millie encourages with a slight push on your lower back.

Your eyes flicker to your two best friends, smiles reaching their eyes as their gazes point to the entrance door. They don't spare you a chance to rebut, linking their arms and skipping away. The 'open' sign has just been flipped away by its owner, and even through the clouded glass, the full body stretch that Sunwoo rewarded his tired muscles with relaxes your heartbeat. Your feet slide towards the door, cold fingertips reaching the metal handle. All you need to do is push, and the hinge of the door will welcome the cooler air inside. It would also give you a proper introduction to the boy that you have been missing.

And that's all you want. 

You just want to see Kim Sunwoo again properly. So your arm pushes against the curved surface, feet stepping into glossy tiles from gravel. The room is minimalistic, with barely a speck of dust infiltrating the crevices of the shelf. The walls are kept clean and white, seemingly expanding the room. Each shelf is neatly polished, and the names of the products, along with the price written to avoid confusion. Various levels of shelves, ranging from the floor to the ceiling, to fully glassed cabinets for display surround the room’s perimeter. The goods are placed neatly in rows, the label facing the front to greet the customers with no doubt of what they're looking at. The space wafts of musky cologne and new cardboard behind the front desk. Just from a single glance, Millie is right: it's obvious that Sunwoo put his all into this store. 

Then the cashier table: slightly less organised, stationery scattered all over the papers that hid the surface of the white table. It brings a nostalgic smile to your face, knowing that Sunwoo is still as messy. The number of times you gulped did nothing to the tears that gathered around the bottom of your eyelids, and you tried your best to stop them from escaping. Behind the desk, the owner sits and clicks away on his computer for a little longer. When he registers the tapping on the floor to not be his impatient ones, he looks away from the big screen.

“Sorry, we're clo-”

The customer service smile that Sunwoo has prepared, the higher pitch and the louder volume vanish at the sight of you. His eyes widen, making sure that he's not hallucinating from the lack of sleep, his lips parting. The hand on his mouse clatters when he stands, feet rooted to the ground as he proceeds to stare and blink at your presence. 

“Hi…” are the only words that come out from your lips as you will yourself deeper into the store. Soon enough, you're centimetres away from the other side of the desk Sunwoo stays stuck at. You held onto your bag as tightly as your chest is starting to feel with his stare.

"A-Am I dreaming? Are you real...?” A hand sweeps his hair back. “W-What is going on...?"

Your heart swells at his reaction. At the very least, it's nice to know that he isn't kicking you out. "I came back this morning. Millie picked me up,” shrugging your shoulders away as if it wasn't a big deal.

But to Kim Sunwoo, it is. It's a very big deal. 

His eyes scan over your figure, dressed lightly in the coming warmer months. Your fashion style didn't change from memory, and neither did the way your eyes sparkle. Sunwoo steps out from behind the counter, his blue hoodie and long baggy pants coming into full view. He's dressed very casually, contrasting the professionalism of having a job, and that's so Kim Sunwoo of him. 

No barrier stands between you and Sunwoo now. You didn't think you would be reaching into your bag today as you had no expectations of seeing him. A box rests on your palm as you extend it towards Sunwoo. The boy averts his gaze to your wonderful wrapping skills. 

“Happy Birthday, Sunwoo,” you congratulate him. “Just a little something from me to you.”

He left your arms hanging for a while, his forgetting how to move from his side. Your heart grows wary as he examines your handwriting of his name on the tag, your arms slowly retracting back to yourself. Before you can, Sunwoo mutters his gratitude, finally accepting your gift. You release the tense breath, shoulders loosening with the touch of his skin. 

Then, you announce something that would drastically change Sunwoo’s schedules, “I'm home.”

FIVE: (SOMEWHAT) EXPERT ADVICE

Eric and Millie show up with a fully decorated cake with declarative toppers a few moments after. The four of you clutter around the front desk, devouring dessert before the main dinner meal. Conversations are loud, not letting silence take over at the reunion. You and Sunwoo haven't interacted much ever since the other two came, but you're satisfied with the shared moment now. Smearing cream onto each other's faces, photos clicking to capture the tradition, blasting music from Eric's phone as Millie fills the unknown lyrics with gibberish. 

It's so nice to be home like this. 

You didn't realise the eyes stuck onto you the whole time, stolen glances on top of it as the past two hours flew by. Sunwoo didn’t expect to close the store with a bright smile with sweet remnants on his face from the last few days of exhaustion. Today, though, the only thing exhausted is the storage space of his phone.

“Let's go for a proper dinner!” 

“Convenience store dinner?” You add on to Eric’s words, “Just like back in high school.”

“Broke dinner,” Millie agrees with the idea.

Your eyes shift to Sunwoo, waiting for his answer. It's then that you notice him already striding away. “You guys go on ahead. I need to head back first. Thank you for today.”

To say that your heart drops at his answer is an understatement. Did Sunwoo really not want to be near you that much? Did you possibly ruin his day? You automatically occupy your mind with such thoughts, missing the way he turns his back to start walking the opposite way, and the last glance he spares your way. You take notice of his deflated shoulders, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, and you had to force yourself to look away to save the rest of your heart.

“Actually, I just remembered that I left something at Sunwoo’s house! You two go on ahead!” Eric attempts to be subtle, but not with how he rushes to blurt out his words.

Millie takes notice of your clenching hands, sympathetic eyes falling onto you. “He's not happy to see me, I guess," a lifeless chuckle followed after.

"Don't be ridiculous," Millie reassures. "He's just shocked, that's all."

"But he looks kind of disturbed with me being here, you know? Maybe he doesn't want to have anything to do with me anymore. He has spent the last three years barely texting me after all…"

Millie has always been the friend to say otherwise to your negative thoughts. She has an almost perfect success rate in making you feel better whenever you feel down, but this time, she's speechless. There’s nothing that she can offer other than an engulfing hug, letting some of your tears fall onto her shoulder while she pats the back of your head. No one knows why Kim Sunwoo decided to cut you off from his life.

And that’s what Eric Sohn wants to know, or at least confront him about. 

"Way to go, Sunwoo.” Eric’s remark is snide, a hint of amusement but also expectancy of his treatment towards you.

Sunwoo scowls at his company, "Stop it, Eric."

"Why don't you give her a chance? Your heart a chance?"

“Yeah? Don't you remember what she went through because of me?"

Eric scoffs, disbelief at a past event that Sunwoo has evaluated negatively without hearing your side. He turns to his friend. "What did she go through, Sunwoo? When was there ever a time when she was sad with you?"

His steps pick up, wanting to avoid this conversation for the nth time, "Maybe not with me, but because of me."

"Really?” Her tone rose sharply, "Because as far as I remember, the only time she was sad because of you was when you weren't there to see her off at the airport because you apparently overslept.” A grimace makes its way to Sunwoo’s face. “As if anyone believed you.”

Sunwoo shakes his head, fist wanting to wreck havoc, "It doesn't matter. None of that matters. She's going to leave again, and we’ll be out of touch. It's better that way."

"You're an idiot,” Eric raises both hands in despair. "Give your heart a chance because for the last three years, all I see in your eyes is longing." And you need to see the same thing in her as well, the cousin thought to himself. 

“Give it a chance only for it to break?”

His best friend decides to ignore the comment, phone lighting up with a reminder set for tomorrow's events. “The festival is tomorrow,” Eric raises a corner of her lip, plotting something in his head. “You're on pick-up duty.”

“What? No!”

“You can't just wait for the right circumstances to come, you coward.” The two friends arrive at the end of the shared road. Eric waves his exit, leaving a flabbergasted Sunwoo behind, intending to cut the birthday boy some slack. But true friends being true friends, his words still leave him with no mercy after all. “Some are made.”

SIX: TAKE ME AWAY

The last time you attended the mentioned beach festival was four years ago before you left. It was the last year of high school, stakes running high as students buried their noses into teared-up textbook pages. With how harsh each page flip gets with each passing second, it’s a miracle that the page is still intact with the book’s spine.

The memory seemed so distant yet everytime this time came around each year, you couldn’t help but to long for it. For now, academics is for another country and you're not there right now. You occupy the next half an hour on your phone in bed, scrolling through social media when the annual beach post festival reminder pops up on your screen. 

“Oh…” Your thumb hovers to the comments section, scrolling through countless usernames tagging their loved ones to inform them of the event. “Should I go…?” But then the no company makes you swipe the app close, “Nevermind.”

Laying on your side, you’re met with your wall, allowing your mind to wander. You recall the time Sunwoo stubbornly got hurt a few years back just so that you could attend the festival, desperately wanting to take you. The dry air transports you back to the time when you surrounded yourself with the glossy finish of your chemistry, psychology and human biology books spread on your massive study table.

“This is so…” You let your sentence trail off, telling your conscious mind to read the next sentence, to just hold on for another page. 

The headphones are ripped out from the comfort of the top of your head, now dangling pathetically around your neck as you rest your forehead on the staggering amount of words. Doing this non-stop for three hours without a break is not effective, but you can't bring yourself to rest.

You knew you should’ve gone to the library, but you needed to be able to say the words out loud for memorisation. You knew you should’ve studied in the cafe, but the aroma of chocolate and coffee would empty your wallet. You knew you should—

“Ouch!” 

The thudding exclamation came from the left, where your open window is. Judging from the location of your room being on the second floor, you deduced that something (or rather, someone) must have injured themselves. Instinctively, your hand reaches for your phone to inform the guards, but it halts at the familiarity of the voice.

You cautiously approach the window, a pillow in hand as a (not so effective) weapon for whoever is waiting on the other side. Your head takes quick dips in and out of the sight of the outside world, a glimpse of a blank-haired boy sitting on the ground. Deeming it safe, half of your lower body is out of the comfort of your cooler room, the golden hour highlighting your face. Just as you expected, the boy looks defeated at the fact that he can’t reach your window’s apron, his butt glued to the soil and a hand clamped on the side of his head.

Sunwoo hasn’t noticed your presence, mumbling incoherent curses to himself as he continues to massage the pain out of his head after falling for a second time. You chose not to break the self-talk that the innocent boy is doing, now pacing around the area in a small, endless circle to the point that he could leave his trails on the grassed area. A hand slaps over your mouth, keeping the volume of your chuckles as minimal as you can as you hear the adorable self-encouragement.

“Ah, crap! I gotta be quick!”

“Wait, it’s six already?!”

“Okay, okay, okay. I’m getting a grip now! Let’s do this!”

You watch Sunwoo retreat a bit further from the wall of your house, a small smile appearing on your face as you see a similar expression start to take over his face, yet comparatively, it’s different and so much more genuine. If the raised corner of your lips is full of hesitancy, negativity and is fictitious, he holds the meaning of confidence, positivity and perseverance. It’s one of the many things that you love about him, and the rays of heaven shining down on him make you melt into the thought of Kim Sunwoo every time.

Maybe it’s not something that a ‘clueless eighteen-year-old’ should think about, as your mother says, but the heart knows the truth. But all it takes is one person to make you feel the emotions that you can't receive and feel in this household. Your shoulder muscles relax, and the weight in your chest lifts whenever Sunwoo is within reach.

“Kim Sunwoo…” fingers clenching the painted window frame, “when will you ever leave me alone?”

The easy answer to that is never.

Simple and true—just like your love for him and his love for you.

Clouded in your thoughts, you lose track of Sunwoo’s attempts to break in. Another exclamation breaks your daydream, and you feel bad for almost laughing at Sunwoo’s misery.

“What do you think you're doing?” Making your presence known to the boy downstairs.

It’s interesting to see how his smile sprouted more as he craned his neck up so much that you worry about the cramp that will arise later on. The beam plastered on his face takes your breath away.

“This makes my life easier!” Sunwoo jumps around like a child at the sight of you. “Come on! Let's go!”

The slight shake of your head and scoff tells Sunwoo your first thoughts, “You know I can't, Woo,” and it dulls the radiant atmosphere that he has been emitting.

“I’ll bring you back.” No doubt about that, and for some reason, it’s a miracle that your parents have never caught you. “Your parents won't even know,” he reinforces his will of bringing you out.

“It’s funny how you say that when you can't even enter through my very open window.”

“I’m sorry that I haven’t mastered the art of floating,” he sassily remarks with an eye roll. “Come on! Eric and Millie are waiting!”

It's scary to even think about running away with an ominous presence behind you, even though your mum is away for the next few days. With how much you’ve been cooped up between your four walls, you could recite the little scratches on the wall, the same ones that made your mum throw a tantrum to the painters who you believe did their job as best as they could. In the end, those hard-workers end up leaving with no pay, stinging you that you share the same genetics as one of the two figures in your life that you’re supposed to be able to trust and look up to.

“It's okay, Woo…” your mind already reciting the reactants to carboxylic acid, “but thanks for the offer.”

“Just two hours!” Holding up corresponding fingers to you. “Then I'll take you back home! Now jump, and I'll catch you! Promise!”

You know very well that Sunwoo wouldn't let you fall, however the height is crazy for you and his words aren't the most trustworthy. “With what muscles?!”

“Hey! You know I wouldn't dare to drop you!” He retaliated with his two arms up to the sky. 

His open arms tempt you to do as he says instead of taking the long way down, even though the difference in time between the two routes is barely different. You find yourself sitting on the ledge of your window and in Sunwoo’s arms seconds later. The warmth of the sun is nothing compared to the hold he has on you, body shaking as he sets you on your feet. Your hand clamps on his t-shirt, eyes welling up at the caring orbs he has for you. 

“See? Told you I would catch you.” The loose strands of your hair are tucked behind your ears. Sunwoo exhales at your tears, thumbs wiping them away, “You can cry if you want.”

“Mhm…” You nod whilst still keeping eye contact with him. 

“It's okay,” he shakes his head at the threatening waterfall, “cry it out.”

His hand pushes you to his chest, fingers lightly massaging the back of your head. “It's just…I can't…”

“Yes, you can,” he argues. “You're the smartest person I know, and you're going to do well. I promise.”

“You’ve been promising me a lot of things…”

“Because you’re worth all of them.”

You got caught that day as your mum finished her business earlier than expected. Unfortunately, that was also Sunwoo’s first meeting with her. A beautiful day turning into a mess. Needless to say, the restrictions placed upon you increased, and freedom immensely decreased. You could no longer hang out with anyone after school, not even in the library during the weekends. The want to see your friends outside of the school only increases when you knew you were leaving, but your parents stood their ground.

And now, all grown up, sometimes when you're given the ability to do what you want, you simply can't. 

Outside your house is a different story. Sunwoo paces around outside your gate, rewriting his text to you for the third time. “Or I could just turn back and go home!” 

During his mental breakdown, the text accidentally sends, and the ‘seen’ receipt appears almost straight away. “...WHAT?!”

im outside…?

You've never skipped down the stairs, stumbled over the air and almost embarrassingly face-planted to the ground. The click of the front door opens, revealing the crease between your eyebrows, eyes scanning your front yard for the unexpected visitor. The little wave outside your property catches your attention. Sunwoo is leaning on the hood of his car outside your fence.

With a touch of the button, the front gates creak open, and you usher Sunwoo in as you hurriedly slip on shoes, once again almost stumbling. Sunwoo's head shakes at your invitation, pointing at the ground as he offers you a reassuring smile.

You watch Sunwoo attending his phone, the device against his ear. Your phone rings shortly after, Sunwoo's name on your screen. Your thumb clicks on the green button with no hesitation.

“You look tired.”

It's such a wonder how he's able to catch your expression from far away. But truthfully, he couldn’t. Sunwoo just knows everything about you, including the implications of your slightly draping shoulders.

“My mum chewed me out for coming without notice and, I quote, ‘Running around Korea before heading home first' and also said that I'm ungrateful,” you shrug at last night's lecture. “But what's new? She's kind of always like that.”

Sunwoo hums, “I'm proud of you.” You’re taken aback from the words, not fully understanding them. With your silence, Sunwoo takes it as a cue to explain, “That you came back here because you wanted to. You always obeyed your parents, which to a certain extent is good, but I’m sure you know what’s good and bad for you now.” 

“Oh…” your neck hangs low, kicking the small rocks away from the sill of the door. A faint smile grows as you begin to acknowledge your bravery in coming despite being afraid of the “what ifs. “Thank you, Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo nods, a tender gaze overlooking your figure from afar. “You can take a nap in my car if you’re still tired…if you want…”

An eyebrow rises at the question, bringing your head back up see Sunwoo shrugging his shoulders. “Are you asking me out?"

"Maybe," he chuckles, and you see the way he shifts his sitting in slight excitement, eyes fondly setting on you. "The annual beach festival is today. You haven't gone in a while, and I was wondering if you want to go with us again. Eric and Millie are there already."

Your eyes widen, wondering at the perfect timing of it all. If your phone was fragile, it would have shattered underneath your grip. You stand stunned for a minute longer, and there's a beat of the crows cawing in the background. Sunwoo nervously fidgets with his keys as he waits. After a while, he misinterprets the silence, slowly getting up to leave.

“I-I guess you're busy. It's okay-"

"No!" You shout, and Sunwoo hears your echo without his phone. He hears you stuttering an apology and then, "Give me ten minutes…"

The image of the whole complete group in his head makes his heart warm. He nods. "Take as much time as you need. I'll be waiting."

SEVEN: STICKS AND GEMS

"I didn't know you got your license,” you finally address after a song ends. “And a car.”

"There were a lot of places I wanted to go to. It's more convenient to drive.” 

Some of those words are true; Sunwoo just left out the part about how he wishes that someday, you’ll be a part of the said drives. You would be in the front seat, helping him with navigation, and he would take pictures of everyone, mostly you. A trip was supposed to happen as a graduation present for the four of you. But with three left, it didn't seem worth it to go anymore.

With how crowded the festival is compared to years ago, it’s a miracle that Sunwoo was able to find parking. You do have to thank the children for being tired earlier, leaving a few bays free. Millie and Eric holler across the street, the girl jumping into your arms after crossing. While you're occupied with Millie’s arm around your neck dragging you into the festival, Sunwoo took a breather with your retreating figure.

“Wasn't so hard now, was it?” Sunwoo rolls his eyes at Eric's grin. “You gonna tell Millie to stop stealing your girlfriend?” 

“Wha-” Sunwoo sputters. “She's not my girlfriend.”

“Alright,” Eric shrugs. “Whatever you say.”

Eric’s grin stays on for the rest of the night as the two boys follow you and Millie behind. Sunwoo has his hand tucked into his hoodie pocket from the wind. His hood also shielded his face from the night breeze. Yet, it's not enough to hide his fond eyes and mellow smile if you turned back. Nothing could hold Sunwoo back from showing you that look, so if you did turn back, he would be completely exposed with no proper excuse for why his cheeks were dusted like the sunset’s pink.

Your gasp takes his out of his trance, feet ready to run and take your hand incase of danger. When he follows the object of surprise, he exhales with relief.

“Tornado potatoes!” You run out from Millie’s embrace, joining the long queue of the food truck. 

It's a signature food of the core memory between you both. Even without you for the past years, he has never forgotten to grab a stick for himself. Knowing you’re safe, Sunwoo retreats his foot from running.

A couple of nudges to his hip have him turning to the culprit. “Go accompany her in line.” Millie raised an eyebrow knowingly. “Don't be a coward, Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo’s mouth opens, ready to come up with a thousand excuses on why he shouldn't, but he takes all of them back. Because he wants to. He wants to accompany you in line. He wants to be with you, even if it's just for a few seconds. So he nods without complaint, not looking back to the couple.

"Damn," Eric crosses his arms, impressed. "Our boy is still as whipped as before."

"Arguably even more." Millie squints her eyes at the faraway couple, particularly Sunwoo, who has an adoring gaze stuck on you. "He's an idiot."

"They're both idiots," Eric corrects. "I say we leave my lovesick cousin and best friend and have fun ourselves."

Millie is delighted with the suggestion, linking Eric by his arm away from you and Sunwoo. Meanwhile, you’re occupied with the spices, oil and fried goodness in the air when Sunwoo makes his appearance known. You jolt with widened eyes, slowing softening into a pair of crescents. 

“Don't go running off like that,” he courageously takes your left hand with his right. “You worry me.”

The physical touch leaves you speechless, warmth rising to your cheeks. You spare him a curt nod before looking away to hide your flustered look. 

“Sorry, I haven't eaten this in ages, so I’m excited.”

“Rock, paper, scissors and the loser pays?”

The deal is sealed after three rounds, and Sunwoo’s wallet is closer to zero. As you're distracted with your win, he doesn't miss the opportunity to tighten his hold on you, continuing with light conversation as the line progressively gets shorter. Holding Sunwoo’s hand becomes normal, and you forget how it feels without. You eventually let go for a better grip on the almost empty stock, not leaving a single worth of cent behind. 

Now, you're exploring the place with Sunwoo beside you. Your shoulders occasionally bump into each other, knuckles likewise brushing. All this sends Sunwoo's heart reeling, craving your touch even more. Eric and Millie are unreachable, as expected. Sunwoo grumbles curses to your cousin after reading his peace sign emoji text, knowing this is all a set-up. You all agreed to meet up along the shore a few minutes before the fireworks show, but for now, he'll take this opportunity with you.

“Where should we go?”

Sunwoo shakes his head, pocketing his phone to give you his full attention. “Anywhere you want.”

His hand is back into yours, unaware of the effect it has on you. You found it difficult to focus on the stalls and decorations with your being so close to Sunwoo. Your gait is throwing you off-centre, feeling the boy's deep chuckle beside you by his hold.

“Want a piggyback ride?” 

“No!” You would have taken it as it would be an opportunity to hide yourself but your heart cannot take any more than right now.

“Someone's excited,” an elderly voice calls out. 

"Grandma Lee!" You run over to the stall with the familiar face. "You're still here!"

"Of course! You know that handmade accessories are my life!"

"And I'm so glad it has stayed that way!" 

Grandma Lee spares a greeting to Sunwoo, which was reciprocated, bowing to the woman with respect. You were both regulars at her annual stall. Grandma Lee sells handmade hair accessories with fine precision and detail. Her hard work always leads to her supply being out of stock in most festivals she's at, and it's no surprise to either of you. Sunwoo and you always spent the rest of your money here following food, and with the designs in front of you today, it seems like today will follow the trend from previous years. 

"I haven't seen you in so long, dear," referring to your absence. "Sunwoo told me you've been studying abroad and are very busy."

You're surprised to hear that. Not because of her caring nature, but because Sunwoo talked about you. "Yes, I’ve been abroad," stealing side glances to Sunwoo as he busied himself with the designs in front of him. 

"I'm sure you have been working very hard! Please take one as a gift!" 

"Oh no, it's okay-"

"Follow my words, dear. Hard work should always be rewarded. I'm sure you have been working very hard that you haven’t been able to come home.” 

You wish you could open your heart to rebut how untrue it was. You were close to doing so until the elderly woman stood from her chair, reaching over to pat your head. 

All words blur under her care. "Thank you…” With a satisfied nod from the kind elderly, you begin to search the racks and shelves of handmade accessories. 

The contemplation is written all over your face, so Grandma Lee tries to help. "I recommend these because they’re different designs from what Sunwoo has gotten you before.”

The boy next to you freezes, his eyes intentionally looking towards the end of the table closer to his claim. His fingers slip away from yours, lips growing dry as he tries to ignore your stare. You gulp and turn away, eyes running through the designs to distract yourself.

The truth is, whenever you visit this place with Sunwoo, he has never gotten you anything. He wanted to, but you always beat him to the payment first. So Grandma Lee’s words could only really mean one thing.

"You bought me things?" You finally ask with a tender voice, still not looking at him. 

Sunwoo’s nod just caught on your peripheral. “I'm sorry if that makes you feel uncomfortable. I wanted to send it over but then always wanted to give it to you face to face, and I know I should have just sent it over because that would have been more special to receive it straight away but-”

"Hey, hey,” your palm blankets the back of his hand, thumbs soothing across his knuckles. You keep your eyes to your hands. “I’m just thinking about how you thought of me…”

His heart breaks at that. Of course, you would think this way. After all, he's the person that would leave you on delivered, sometimes, seen for ages after promising to stay in close touch. The pain on your side isn't truly understood until now when, just by one look, Sunwoo could tell that you're holding your tears back. Your hands shake, breath doing the same. 

“I always think of you,” he confessed genuinely. “Always.”

You don't know why you think you had to search his eyes for any lies when you finally lock yours with his. “Me too,” you confess back. “I always think about you too.”

Those simple words mean everything to him and you. Lighthearted laughter fills the atmosphere while Grandma Lee sits away to give you both space. She reminisces her youth and love now far away through the two young adults who have their fingers intertwined fondly. Joint attention is now back on her work. With how much Sunwoo asks you to reconsider your choice, it gets you wondering what he has bought for you, and the knowledge makes your heart flutter.

In the end, Grandma Lee gave you more than just a hair clip, not letting you or Sunwoo spend anything on her priceless work. You’re both left with a pout on your lips when she wouldn’t even accept the offer of buying some warm food to munch on. The woman even joked about calling security if you didn't leave immediately. After giving your hands a light and reassuring squeeze, you promised to visit next year and left. An enveloping hug is the only thing she would accept from you both, but that’s all the woman wants from her most loyal customers. 

Sunwoo’s phone is bombarded with texts from Eric telling him that he’s by the shore, readying for the fireworks in around half an hour. “Do you want to grab any quick snacks before meeting up?”

“I should be fine,” occupied by the small bag of goods in your hands. 

You’re barely paying attention to your path, and Sunwoo has to distribute his attention to you and the crowd around him. This would surely be a good reason to hold your hand, right? It’s for your safety, and he’s worried about you. After another moment of contemplation, Sunwoo acted on his thoughts, slithering his right arm around your lower back and resting his palm on your waist. He pulls you closer to him, and you almost drop everything.

In this way, walking through the crowd becomes easier, even with shaky legs at the subtle touches on the dip of your waist, similar motions like the one you gave him earlier. Kim Sunwoo is learning from you. Your confidence rubbed onto him, and you relished the way your bodies were close to each other despite making walking a difficult task.

The plastic bag that was near your chest lowers to your thigh as you now pay attention to Sunwoo’s cologne, stealing glances without moving your head too much. He’s busy looking around for Eric and Millie, as you busy yourself with his well-sculpted features. Sunwoo’s touch didn’t do much in terms of making you more aware of your surroundings, but with you in his arms, it’s much safer than before.

“Oh. My.” Millie tugs on Eric’s sleeves, her jaw dropped by you and Sunwoo close together.

Eric blinks at the sight. “Well, that happened.” Millie slaps Eric’s bicep in excitement. “Yes, baby, we’re all excited.” The two quickly rush to make space on the blanket.

Millie pats the space on her left for you, a smirk on her face which makes you mouth her to leave you alone. To Millie, waiting for you to take your shoes off felt like a lifetime. She pulls you down by an arm, a knowing eyebrow rising as you swat your hand in the air. 

Sunwoo takes his place next to your left quietly, knees folding to his chest, “So nice to have all four of us here.”

“Well,” the girl beside you starts, “for now.”

“Millie, stop ruining the moment!” You reprimanded. 

Sitting down side by side resurfaces memories. It's warming when you think about how you are all connected by this event: Millie meeting Eric here when she was working at one of the stalls and you meeting Sunwoo a year after. It's like everything wanted you all to be together. In the vast view where the waves sing with the birds at sunset, they wanted you all to sit together to admire the changing time.

Sunwoo’s fingers traced along the zipper of his camera bag, contemplating taking it out. The waves sparkle under the golden rays, and it’s breathtaking. However, it’s not breathtaking enough to take his attention away from the person beside him. Your smile makes it harder for him to divert his eyes away. Eric eyes the bag to reassure the boy before redirecting his eyes to you. Sunwoo chuckles instead of cursing at him, finally setting his camera. 

Sunwoo first starts with capturing the calmer waves and landscapes. Eric followed, ready with multiple poses, and then he and Millie as per the former’s request. There's a playful scowl on his face when the couple displays their affection in public, but at the back of his head, he can't help but be healthily jealous of the love they share. Satisfied with his work, Sunwoo clicks through his masterpiece, mentally choosing which to print for his photo album.

You lean over to his screen, “You've still got it,” complimenting his skills. “I'm glad to see that you still love photography. It has always been your hidden passion in high school.”

“Couldn't let go of it,” Sunwoo nods. “Hence the store as well.”

He shifts his seating position from you, stopping near the edge of the blanket. The lens reflects your face, Sunwoo clicking multiple times to your random poses. You’ve always been a natural when it comes to taking pictures. For you, the photographer is an important factor in the quality of your picture. There’s no way you could fully relax if you didn’t know the person behind the camera well. Because of that, you haven’t gotten your picture taken by anyone for a long time, yet it feels like second nature when Sunwoo gives you pointers on what he should do as he adjusts his settings. Again, his work never lets you down.

“You should sign up for competitions again like what you did in high school.”

“I did. Four of them.” Sunwoo powers his camera off, spreading his legs out with his hands behind him for support. “I won them all.”

“Sunwoo!” You exclaim, clapping generously for him. “I knew it! You should hang up the certificate or trophies at work! And the pieces you won along with it!”

“N-No, it's embarrassing…”

“No, it's a good idea! You not only have the technical knowledge for cameras but also photography skills. I'm sure a lot of people will love it and be assured that the owner has a clear talent for photography as well!”

Your compliments make Sunwoo retreat his blushing face behind his propped-up arms on his knees. “M-Maybe,” he takes the credits. “Want to see the pieces? I have them here.”

In a heartbeat, you nod at his offer. Sunwoo walks you through the failed photos, telling you the reasons and how he made the next shots better. You’re used to seeing portraits as it was Sunwoo’s specialty. Knowing that his skills have comfortably extended to landscapes makes you immensely proud of the immersed boy in his hobby.

Amid conversations and the dropping temperature, your body searches for warmth, unconsciously resting your head on Sunwoo's shoulder. Beside you, Sunwoo lays the side of his head on top of yours, relaxing at how you paid attention to all his words. The saltiness of the sea is washed out by your perfume and shampoo, and it took everything for him to not turn his head to yours to press a quick kiss. 

It’s only when the sky explodes with warm, bright colours that you lean away, allowing his heart to come back to normal rhythm. However, like before, his eyes are stuck on your side profile. His fingers jitters, close to lifting themselves for his lens, but he helps the urge down. He decides to keep this scene for himself. 

Sunwoo wants to share your beauty with the world, eyelashes fluttering with regretful blinking at missing a millisecond of the fireworks. He wants to show you off, but he wants to keep this scene to himself.

Humans can be selfish sometimes. And Kim Sunwoo is human. 

You’re aware of the eyes falling upon you, so you attend to them to see Sunwoo’s affectionate eyes. Your breath hitches at the sweetness dripping from his orbs, and you pay attention to the colours of the sky painting their way to his honey-like skin.

“You’re really pretty.” Sunwoo’s deep voice resonates in the air. When he realises his words, his cheeks turn a deep red.

“Sunwoo…”

His hand lightly directs your head back to his shoulder, giving him the comfort that he needs. “Stay close to me, please,” his voice weakening with each second. He gulps the bile down his throat. “I’m sorry that I was cold yesterday when you visited the store. I’m sorry…” Sunwoo repeats the apology a few more times, and you lift your head away from him.

Sunwoo bites his bottom lip, unable to face you in shame. Unexpectedly, a palm cups his cheek, tilting his face to you, “I forgive you, Woo.” Your thumb pulls on the skin of his chin to release the bite. “Stay close to me, okay?”

A final nod is all he manages to give. With bodies gravitating towards each other and hearts lighter, you watch the sky bloom with sparks that reflect on your orbs. To you, Kim Sunwoo is in your peripheral view, but to him, you’re at the centre of his. 

EIGHT: SEALED DEAL

As per Eric and Millie’s hopes, Sunwoo is the one to drop you home. Millie makes you promise to video call when you settle back home, and you roll your eyes playfully, promising the girl anyway, with whatever she wants to talk about. Now, you’re back in Sunwoo’s passenger seat.

"When did you open the store?"

It's a question that you're curious about and you find that after tonight, starting a conversation with Sunwoo is much easier.

"I worked for a year and a half after graduation and spent all my savings on it.” 

He remembers the time of taking transport in the humid summer, missing the bus to bathe in his sweat. In winter, he would bathe in his sweat on the bed, fighting a fever. All of it turns into fond memories during silence in the store, reminiscing his little efforts that went a long way and paid off.

"Eric and Millie helped with the decorating.” Sunwoo was about to stop there. Until, “It would have been better if you were with us.”

It's a mutual feeling. How will you even begin to make up for that lost time? You give him a slow nod, lost in your thoughts. "It was really lonely abroad. I had friends and a lot of company, but something was missing."

The red light halts the car, and the sound of the engine rests for a little while. It's not until now that Sunwoo can finally steal a side glance at you. Your hair frames your face, and even though he's unable to get a proper look because of the night, he can hear your nails clashing anxiously against each other.

"Like?" He dared to continue, and he had to bite his tongue to reprimand himself. 

"Millie's mischief, Eric's energy," your fingers stop moving, "and everything about you."

The green light pumps the engine back to life, the buzzing filling the air once more with another layer. You didn't expect an answer from Sunwoo. You're just glad you got your feelings out.

“You’re here now. It’s better now, right?” 

Your head whips to his side, and for the first time, Sunwoo’s lips stretch from ear to ear genuinely. “Right,” you answer with a mirroring facial expression.

This is it. This is the Kim Sunwoo that you know.

The rest of the ride is mixed with light singing and swaying. Sunwoo kept the beat by tapping his finger on the wheel and you on your thigh. You tried your best to keep yourself interested in the scenery outside, but with the mellow, higher tone that Sunwoo sings with the love songs on the radio, he eventually becomes your scenery. It's only halfway through one of the songs when Sunwoo gradually turns the volume down, the uninviting tall black gates causing his engine to halt. You stay in your seat, reasoning to stay until the song is over. But two, three and four songs pass after your claim.

Sunwoo had an idea of why you're rooted on the seat of his car. If he could, he would drive you back to his house, somewhere you loved to spend time, for the rest of the night. Yet, the last time he did that was really the last time. He couldn't stop blaming himself for that day he took your freedom away with the introduction of stricter curfews and rules.

"You should go in. It's going to be curfew soon,” he finally managed to say.

"Oh, right..." Your voice trails off with disappointment. Your hands take the latch of his car door to exit, and you're ready to pull until he stops you.

Per his request, you stay seated as Sunwoo exits instead. Your head follows his figure, disappearing when he takes something from the back of the car. Sunwoo comes around your side of the door, opening it for you. Other than the smile that reaches his eyes, his gratefulness for today is conveyed with the bouquet he prepares in his hands. Your lips parted at the colourful petals. 

“I was supposed to give this to you before, but I was just so flustered and now they look ugly and destroyed and I'm so sorry and-"

"They're pretty. Thank you, Sunwoo,” you reassure his worried rambles. Sunwoo extends his hands to you, hands brushing at the exchange. "Can you take a picture of me with them?"

Surely his phone has space for one more photo. Don't fail on me now phone! And fail it didn't, as he was able to quickly delete an app for immediate storage. As expected, Sunwoo directs you with poses and angles, snapping the best shots of you and his gift. You're left scrolling at the new pictures sent to your phone, feet tapping on the cement excitedly.

You pocket your phone, taking a moment to appreciate the flowers in front of you. The sweet scent surrounds you, and you push the gift closer to your chest. Some petals fall, withering from time. As much as you want to think you have more time than them, you don't know what the future holds. 

So you at least try to control a bit. You want to make up for the lost time somehow.

"Can I come to help you at work tomorrow?” The suggestion is followed by rustling plastic by your hold. “I promise I won't bother and actually help."

It's an interesting request to Sunwoo. If he agrees, then he would be able to see you more. "It's your holiday. You should be relaxing."

"Being with you is relaxing,” you state surely. “I just want to be around you."

"How about I pick you up after work?”

"How about you just let me work with and help you tomorrow?”

Sunwoo chuckles, knowing he won't win against you. Besides, losing to you on this isn't a bad idea. He leans over to you slightly, bending his back to reach eye level and towering over you. "The moment you distract me, you're out."

The way your eyes lit up from his words is a sight that he wants to see all the time. "Deal!"

NINE: TRACED FEELINGS

Despite looking forward to the next day, maybe you were looking forward a bit too intensely, as you couldn’t fall asleep fast. As a result of your overexcitement, you overslept and are indeed running late. Regardless, you still willed your legs to dash to the bus stop and shop to avoid ‘clocking in’ later.

“Morning!”

“You’re late.” Sunwoo tries to be stern, but his facade breaks seconds after with a welcoming smile.

“Now you know how the teachers felt like in high school with you,” the boy concedes, hands up in the air. “What am I helping you with today?”

“It’s getting a bit busier, so I’ll get you on POS, unpack some deliveries and record appointments for photoshoots or any of the sort that anyone needs.”

“Sounds good to me!” You skip your way behind the front desk, setting the space for the day.

Sunwoo being Sunwoo, you're not surprised at the clutter. He manages to keep the rest of the store clean, but how does he even function with all this scattered paperwork? You can't even see the material of the table, and you're convinced the folders below the papers are for decoration. 

“Guess I'll start by cleaning and sorting this out then.” 

You don't get far with your cleaning, only grabbing a few sheets draped against his stationary cup until a picture frame comes into view. The pictures are sized smaller than usual to make maximal use of the frame. Upon closer inspection, you recognise most of these pictures as the ones on your phone: the late night getaways, the sleepovers, the birthdays and Christmas Eves, the prom and the graduation photos. They're all here. 

What really stood out? Most of them were only you and Sunwoo, and not group ones with Eric and Millie. 

“I wasn't the only one who kept them…” 

For the longest time, you thought so. You thought that you were the only one who cared to swipe through the photos. You're starting to get a clear picture now that Sunwoo didn't truly cut you out of his life despite limited texts. Yet, that only deepens your confusion even more. 

Why would he have this if it at least felt like he was trying to avoid you?

You push the thought aside at the approaching customer. You try to be enthusiastic despite the questions in your head, keeping a mental note to ask Sunwoo later. Maybe the universe heard your silent pleas to keep yourself intact from your worries as customers rushed in to keep you busy. Sunwoo himself becomes increasingly busy on the floor, while you support his business with your limited photography knowledge.

Sunwoo exceeded his daily goal; no surprise from the accumulated sweat on his forehead and neck. You slump your body onto the table, cheeks chasing the surface for coolness. Your mouth is desperate for hydration after talking non-stop with the higher pitch that comes with customer service. Just like he's reading your thoughts, he hands you a bottle, which you gladly gulp the contents of. 

A satisfactory sigh comes after emptying half the bottle, “That was refreshing.”

“Was busier than I thought. It was a good idea to have you here. You even cleaned up the space.”

“Yeah, well, I couldn't work with it,” he shakes his head fondly at your slightly lecturing tone.

“You should go eat. We didn't manage to have a proper break.”

It's only now that you notice the sunset illuminating the upper half of the store. The emptiness in your stomach makes itself known when it grumbles, and Sunwoo tries to hold his laughter. It's a calming moment as the sunlight sets on his tanned skin, making your heart skip a beat. His smile is radiant, brighter than the sun. His eyes: clear, unlike the past few cloudy days.

“You really didn't forget about me,” you voice out weakly, a smile lifting just the same. Your fingers trace the curves of the frame, gulping silently. “I just thought I was the only one who held on to these memories.”

You expect Sunwoo to change the subject, or at least let the subject die quicker with a fast reply. But instead he fishes for his phone in his pocket, “My laptop and phone wallpaper are us too."

Your eyes shift to his genuine voice. However, you could no longer make out the emotions behind his eyes. Sunwoo reveals his phone’s lock screen, and he minimises apps to show his desktop wallpaper. He observes you next to him, making sure he catches every little detail on your face as you set your eyes upon his personalisation. You’re mesmerised at the number of pictures that he has, some you've never seen before. Your upper body bends over closer to the desktop to observe each shot. 

"This is where we first met,” pointing at the familiar beach shore. "My favourite place in the whole world.”

Is it a coincidence that it's yours too?

“Well, second,” Sunwoo takes back. Your eyebrows furrow at the changed ranking. “Wanna know the first?” You nod, expecting more words from him, words mixed with pictures of his number one place.

Instead, you got it all through actions. Sunwoo steps behind your seating form, his arms enclosing you around your waist. The back of your head rests against his broad chest, heartbeat resonating to you while he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Your perfume indulges him into relaxation despite his daring act, but your skin heats up when you grow aware of his hand slightly hovering your clothed stomach.

“This is my first,” he rasps out. “Being in your presence.” 

You stutter in your breathing, eyes welling up in the same way that your chest is filled with contentment. The feeling surges throughout every part of your body, and it’s only when you fully give your weight over to him that Sunwoo intertwines his fingers from both hands, pulling you into his embrace closer. 

But it’s not enough. For him, it’s not close enough.

He’s forced to let go. The seat you’re on spins around, and you hold onto Sunwoo’s shoulders for support. Sunwoo lowers his body, sweeping you off your feet with an arm supporting the back of your thighs as he now sits on the cushion. Instinctively, your right arm encircles his neck, and in the next second, you’re comfortably taking a seat on Sunwoo’s lap. Sunwoo makes sure you don’t slide off with his right hand supporting your left thigh near his knee. His left arm stays around your back, making sure you won’t fall backward either. His plump lips brush against your jawline delicately, and you notice his breathing smoothing out as he rests against you. Mindlessly, your index finger traces his nape, drawing random shapes on his skin, occasionally massaging his scalp to relax his muscles. It seems like Sunwoo couldn't get enough of your touch, arms pulling your lower body flush against his until he no longer could. 

“Is this okay?” With his nod, he allows himself to find solace in your presence, and you eventually slide your hand to ruffle and mess with his hair.

Close contact like these is not unusual. In the past, in a crowd full of people or no one but air, you would dash towards Sunwoo the same way. Your voice would call out for him first, letting your presence known from afar before jumping into his figure. Every morning before school, bear hugs and back hugs are common occurrences. But ever since you told Sunwoo about moving, the skinship was reduced to holding hands and brief hugs. As it became routine, you forgot just how fast your heart could beat just by the two hands on your body. You don’t hate it though, not one bit.

“Sunwoo?” 

“Hmm?”

“Can I please see you?” You're worried all of this is a dream.

“Just a little more.” His nose nudges your neck. “I don't want this to end now…”

You feel the same way, playing with the ends of his hair soothingly. Sunwoo almost dozes off at the occasional traces on his skin, heart content with your little hums. 

“It’s been years since you’ve held me this close.” Your voice surprisingly didn't waver at your emotions. Tears are brimming along your eyelids, but a blink pushes them back to hide them. “I missed you holding me close like this.”

“I missed it more,” he whispers to your skin. 

“We don't have to end the day together now…” You felt his lips stretching against your skin with the suggestion.

“That's true,” his eyes lulling to close once more. You didn’t expect him to agree, pulling your neck away to face his blushing face with widened eyes. “Let’s not end the day together now, hm?”

You agree immediately, fearing that he would take back his words if not. The boy connects his forehead with yours. The proximity makes your fingers shake, eyes jolting to anywhere but his well-defined features. Sunwoo too, knowing that this is the first time in a while that he’s holding you so close, flutters his eyes shut to focus on the lines you’re trailing on his skin, lulling between consciousness and dreamland. 

If only he paid attention to the path of your fingers, he would have known the eight letters that you have always kept deeply within, the third and seventh letter replaced with a heart.

TEN: COOLED TEA AND MOMENTS

Sunwoo’s home is quaint, just like how you remembered it. During those times after school when the library overwhelmed you, his bedroom was where he would tuck you in for an afternoon nap. His back leaned against his bedframe on the floor, playing games with no sound. After a well-deserved slumber, Sunwoo will tickle you awake. Sometimes, amid the booming laughter, the boy would get pulled into the mattress, toppling next to you as you use this chance to close your eyes once more on his chest. Occasionally, Eric and Millie would catch his adoring eyes at your smushed cheek. The couple would get a threatening glare, but they knew Sunwoo couldn’t move unless he wanted to wake you up.

His house is nowhere as big as yours, yet the love inside is bigger than any other building you know. Some of the furniture has shifted, some replaced. For you, the feeling of being safe in the place that you’re supposed to call home is unfamiliar. 

Here, a step into his house is enough to know that it’s filled with love. 

The evidence hung on the walls, capturing fond memories of the family of a nervous boy trailing behind you who quietly observes your reactions. It’s arranged thoughtfully, a framed memory since he was a baby up to now where he poses for a picture behind the till of his shop. 

Sunwoo observes your smile growing each time your eyes move to a different part of the house. From the wall where he would blush when you pointed out how sulky he looks with the bucket hat, the dustless sofa, snow white cupboards, to the neatly arranged flower on the centre of the dining table, just enough for his family and one guest. It’s evident that, once again, the owner takes immense care of their home.

It’s so unlike your house, where there would be expensive art pieces placed in what you always thought to be the most inconvenient places—or maybe that’s just because you’re clumsy. Your mother’s glare from the upper levels whenever a person walked in the door would make them cower, having their hands tightly held together in front of their bodies, and a mental note taken not to ruin the house.

You continue inside the house with Sunwoo's guidance, careful of the furniture and making sure that you don’t touch anything that you’re not supposed to. Observing the behaviour of many guests in your house has caused you to exhibit the same behaviour, generalising each household to be the same. It makes Sunwoo giggle when you fold the silhouette of your outfit closer to the centre of your body. 

“W-What?” You look back with pursed lips. “I don’t want to accidentally drop anything.”

“You’re not going to,” he comments, making a turn to the kitchen after giving a fond smile. “I don’t have much to drink.”

“It’s okay. Just water is fi—”

“So,” he turns his back to you, opening one of the overhead cabinets to grab some sweet white grains, “you don’t want cooled tea?”

It leaves you warm to hear Sunwoo recite your favourite beverage like that. The little satisfaction smirk he gives when he knows you well, the way he rolls his long sleeves up to his elbows to reveal his defined veins as he fills the kettle for the teabags, all leave you breathless. He isn’t doing anything significant, yet the pounding against your chest is telling you otherwise. As you know, the heart never lies.

You halt in the living room. The black screen of the television dimly reflects your figure; Sunwoo just caught barely on the side. Unknowingly, you stare at his reflection, your eyebrows relaxing and the corners of your lips rising to the music passing his lips. You catch a glimpse of his puckered lips as he whistles; it makes you wonder what he’s thinking about to make such a cheerful timbre.

It makes you wonder if he ever thinks about you as much as you think of him.

“Hey,” the metal spoon stops clinking against the glass, Sunwoo diverting his eyes to you. “Do you mind if I move the coffee table?”

Sunwoo cranes his head to one side at the question, but to your wide grin, who was he to break your interesting desire to move furniture? Besides, he’s curious about your idea as well, especially with the way that frees your hands at his approval, discarding your items onto his couch and dirty carpet. 

The new arrangement leaves the space between the couch and the television empty, big enough for you to twirl around freely. Sunwoo arches his eyebrows, still trying to figure out your intentions. Two mugs clink against the moved table, his hands on his waist after. A doting and affectionate gaze falls upon you. The boy sees your arms swing side to side, eyes sparkling brightly at him when you turn around from the moment of freedom.

When was the last time you smiled like this?

“You look happy,” he comments, only to have you take fast, small strides toward him. When his hand is within reach, you take it into yours. “What are you doi—”

It's a bit awkward and very timid. Sunwoo’s shoulder freezes, and he almost faceplants on the wooden floor with the pull you exert unexpectedly. “Dance with me,” you suggested, guiding his open palms on the dips of your waist, “for old time's sake.” 

A quick, cloudy flash passes his eyes, contrasting your brighter, clearer ones. For a moment, your smile slips away when he averted his focus as quickly as his protective instincts that balanced him from falling. You didn’t let go of his hand that was loosely on the side of your body, and Sunwoo gulps at the tightening hold.

“Don’t be nervous,” you assure him after the evident gulp travelling down his dry throat. “We’ve danced like this before at our graduation party.”

Sensing the tension in the air, Sunwoo clears his throat. “I-I haven't showered for like two days,” a measly excuse for you to give his yearning heart a moment to breathe. “This is embarrass—”

“Sunwoo, are you happy?” 

It comes out a little croaked, a little suffocating on your end. Your heart clenches at the distance he has maintained since you left. It’s nothing like high school when he would search for your eyes amidst crowding hallways and classrooms, looking forward to having you in his arms. It’s nothing like high school because your bodies are still, and there seems to be no sort of longing in his eyes like yours does for hi—

“I am,” a quiet breath drew in from his nose, “very.” 

The tears that were about to fall onto your frowning face seem to retreat. Your eyes trail up from his chest, reluctantly meeting his eyes, scared of what emotion he may show you when you get there. However, when you do meet the glimmering orbs that you fell in love with more than three years ago, it does feel like youth washes over you again.

It feels like you never left and that you just finished your graduation a few minutes ago. 

Sunwoo nods firmly, his lips slowly but surely showing the same crescent smile that his eyes have. Your chest relaxes, lowering along with your shoulders. It hurts him to know that he may have hurt you. He rakes his head for ideas, wanting more than nothing for you to feel comfort in his presence, in his arms—safe and happy, just like how he wishes that you would always be.

Sunwoo relaxes in your presence, completely letting go of the weight in his mind and heart for the first time in three years. It makes your breath hitch, stopping your inhale mid-way. Though his larger hand is still shaking on your waist, his thumb still manages to give soothing rubs. His left foot takes a step to the side, his right following with the motions, inviting you to start moving too. Sunwoo unclasps your hands behind his neck, taking one of them into his hand. 

Your breath stutters once more when he cups the back of your hand, placing your palm to his cheek. It’s a place that you didn’t expect that you could lay your touch on, but Sunwoo guiding it there willingly sends your emotions into a frenzy that only amplifies more when he closes his eyes and lays his lips onto your open palm like it’s nothing. He plants his palm onto his cheek after, and it took everything in you not to collapse.

“Do that again, Sunwoo…” 

The boy took a good look at you for a while, searching for any reluctance in your eyes. There’s a flash of longing in his eyes when he pulls your lower body closer to his, your arms bending to bring his face closer to yours. Sunwoo places his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and focusing on the cooler air that he inhales. You follow suit, soon feeling his lips on your forehead. The feeling is too short, and it leaves you wanting more.

“Again…” 

Your voice is fragile, and so is your mind as you ask him for another touch. Sunwoo heeds your wants, this time kissing the tip of your nose. He even swipes his nose with yours after, resting his forehead to yours with no intention of pulling away.

“Again…” 

This time, nothing happened. Sunwoo’s bangs rub against your skin as he shakes his head, and he catches your downturned lips.

“I can’t do it again.”

“Why not?”

“Because you might regret the next place that I want to kiss you at.”

He leaves his reasoning open-ended, but you’re not up for that. You lean away from Sunwoo, craning your head slightly to match his height. You’re wrong about you being the only one who longs for him between you two. Sunwoo bites his lips, eyeing the way your lips are only centimetres away from him. The only thing he has to do is to dip his head down, and he would claim your soft lips for himself. Sunwoo doesn’t make his staring subtle, and you’re left pulling him closer by his nape to press a peck onto the tip of his nose this time.

It’s all so heart-stopping for you, and it reminds you that Kim Sunwoo has never left your heart. Just a few days back, and he still had the key to your heart.

“I won’t,” you affirm with a voice only louder than the shoes that glaze over the carpet beneath you both. 

The little world you built for yourself bursts with the doorbell. The sound clangs him awake, making his eyes widen, almost as if he wasn’t aware of the slow dancing that you two were sharing. He rips himself out of your warmth, and your limbs freeze mid-air where you once held him at the harsh pull.

He looks away, eyes tightly shut as he curses himself in his head. “M-Maybe my dad forgot the key!” Running away from you—as he has always done from the very start.

Peeking through the peephole, it’s obvious from the leather jacket that it’s not the person that he is expecting. The unknown visitor churns his stomach, his instincts telling him that this situation isn’t going to be a good one for him. When he opens the door, Sunwoo is greeted with the smell of money in the form of a bright outfit and gold touches. 

“May I help you?” 

He manages to greet the stranger after a single gulp, feeling small with the huge sunglasses that cover half of the visitor’s face. Sunwoo didn’t need to see his eyes to feel the intimidating, judging ones directed at him from the lavish man who finally flicks his sunglasses off, a pair of stone-cold eyes behind it.

“Where is she?”

Taken aback by the lack of mannerisms, Sunwoo stutters before his train of thought comes back. The uninvited guest clad himself in a branded suit, mocking Sunwoo’s casual attire. Even so, status is forgotten when his instincts tell him to shut the door alarmingly. A raised eyebrow and a striking peer from the intruder prompt the feeling even more. 

“Sorry, but I’m going to ask you to leave.”

An amused scoff, “Excuse me?” Tucking his luxurious eyewear into his blazer’s pocket, “Answer my questi—”

“Sungjin?”

Sunwoo turns his body towards your wavering voice. As soon as his eyes laid on your figure that was approaching the door’s threshold, a part of him just wanted to grab your wrist, praying that you wouldn’t step outside his home. But you did all that for him because you stayed frozen a few centimetres away from the front sill of the building, shock written all over your face and voice.

The finally named man finally shows his bright smile, his shoulders relaxing at the sight of your uninjured state—he, however, did frown at the sight of your casual clothes. “Hey,” greeting you and ignoring Sunwoo’s shaking orbs, “You were unreachable and I was worri—”

“How did you know I was here?”

“I tracked your phone.” Your heart drops at the invasion of privacy. The device around your fingers feels like it could mould to a different shape due to your anger. “You have to understand! You weren't responding to my messages!”

“Sungjin…” you shake your head, your eyes talking for you in this incredible situation, “We're not anything for you to be able to do that.”

“I know, but I promised your parents that I’ll protect you and make you mine.” He trips over his words, his polished shoe even coming into contact with the wooden floor of Sunwoo’s entrance walkway. “Besides that, I'm just worried about you. Let's get out of this dirty place. I'll get you some foo—”

“I'm staying.”

“What?”

Your palm extends out towards him, and the barrier keeps you away from the crestfallen face that he displays. “Please just...” you reach the door, beginning to close it on him, “leave me alone.”

Throughout the whole confrontation, Sunwoo held onto the door for support and his whole being focused on the words exchanged. So, when you’re the one who decides to swing the door with your strength, Sunwoo nearly stumbles and faceplants onto one of the panels of the decorated timber. A silence envelops you both, the boy taking glances at you before quickly averting once more. It’s not until the sound of the tyres drives away from his driveway that Sunwoo decides to replace the sound with something softer than the shouts of the angry engine. 

“You have a boyfr—”

“I'm not dating him, Sunwoo,” cutting his words off quickly. “I don't like him even a little bit.”

He does believe you; he really does. But having a taste of your mother’s wrath, he couldn’t help but nod at the ant that casually passed by the tension-filled atmosphere. “L-Let’s get you out of here…” Snatching his jacket on the arms of the hanger to the point that the furniture almost fell out of balance. “I'll take you to a nice restaur—”

“I want to cook,” you declare, stopping his fumbles. “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten food without preservatives.”

“I don't have any ingredients…”

“I'll bake then,” turning your back to the exit and your ‘duties’. Already a step ahead of Sunwoo, you plant your feet in the kitchen where the jar of sugar used earlier still hasn’t been returned. “I'll whip up some of those shortbread cookies that Eric, Millie, and you loved so much back then.”

“You really shouldn't be her—”

“Can I borrow some clothes?” Condensation starts to form on your hands and wraps around the glass jar in your hand. Your voice quietens. “It's too uncomfortable to bake in this.” 

You turn your back on Sunwoo completely, afraid of rejection first and foremost. To be more specific, you’re scared of being rejected by Sunwoo. You’re stubborn, he knows that---so you hope that he could also be on the same wavelength as you for once and be stubborn by letting you stay. If you turned back, you could see the happiness in his smile, but inevitably, the hint of worry was reserved just for your tense back. 

“Okay,” footsteps receding to his room, a list of his oversized shirts in his head that he could lend to you. “Hold up a second…”

You’re aware that Sunwoo hasn’t been able to see your trembling lips and your massive control to keep your breathing rate consistently normal. When you assume that you’re out of his sight, you let all the tension in your body release, your once-blurred vision clearing as a tear escapes. The room spins slightly, your palm landing firmly onto the stone top in front as droplets start to make themselves evident to his humble home. 

And as Sunwoo comes back, whatever thoughts you had are shoved away to live in the moment with him. He leaves you to change and soon his familiar laundry detergent changes from the perfume scent on your body. The classy perfume is no match for the cheap detergent yet your heart easing at being engulfed with Sunwoo’s baggy clothes.

The familiarity drives you insane, as much as it makes you sane.

ELEVEN: HEARTBREAK OR HEART BREAK?

The drive back to your house is quiet and to put it simply: boring and lonely. After a whole day with mischievous Sunwoo, how could you not feel this way? 

Sunwoo purposefully hits your elbow when you measure the dry ingredients, continuing to do so even when you throw a handful of flour at his face, some even getting trapped in his long black strands. He returns the favour, laying the same ingredient on his palm before bringing it in line with his lips, blowing it straight to your face without notice.

It was fun, to say the least.

The kitchen cleanup was hell, with dry ingredients all over the crevices between the table, the wall and the floor, but also on both of your powdered faces. Dare you say a quarter of your time spent under his roof was cleaning up the mess that left his dad’s jaw slack open with confusion and surprise after a long day at work. You remember scurrying out of Sunwoo’s arms when a gasp is heard from the entry hallway, but Sunwoo tightens his hold on your waist, gleefully greeting his father despite the hits and shoves on his chest.

Just thinking of it makes the heat rise to your skin once more, both your hands on the top of your steering wheel as you continue your drive into the silent night. The way his father remembers you just by the back of your head, inviting you with open arms for a hug, made you melt into his parental warmth. The man even joined in with the chaotic atmosphere, grabbing the pile of flour on the benchtop that was supposed to be in the bin. Sunwoo’s yelps and complaints play in your head, a deep chuckle from his dad following after as he sticks his tongue out.

It was…different, to say the least.

Because your parents would never treat outsiders like that; they wouldn’t even be like that with you. The scene repeats in your head like a broken recorder, but it's one that you would never throw out. Even when you park perfectly in your designated spot, you sit with arms by your side, head between the crescent headrest, with the radio and its song. You stare blankly at the closing black gate, sealing off the entrance for the rest of the day as you know you’re the last member of the family who arrived home. The warm light flashes as a safety measure in the night, telling everyone to be careful of the moving metal—if only the warmth of the light is as inviting as the building beside you.

You flip the sun visor down, making sure that you leave no traces of baking ingredients for anyone to question your appearance. Sighing after checking, your hands blindly ruffle the inside of your bag for the spray bottle of your usual everyday perfume. Before you can flick the crown of the bottle, the remnants of the laundry detergent that isn’t yours linger between the strands of your hair, reminding you of the joy you felt when Sunwoo bashfully passed you a long oversized shirt to borrow. You remember the tips of his ears flashing red and the enamoured smile that took over your face as your fingers traced the raccoon picture on the front of the shirt.

“Cute,” you snicker, continuing to make fun of him in your head.

The cap of the small decanter clicks close and is shoved back into the darkness of your purse. Your heels finally click on the uneven stone, mentally preparing the excuses in your head as you are five minutes past your curfew. If only you knew there was no need to cook up any excuses because you couldn’t even slip your feet out of the straps of your shoe, your mum blocking the staircase where all the bedrooms of the house would be.

No greetings are said, not from you and most definitely not from your mother.

“Come here,” she commanded, inciting a gulp from you as you tried to steady your disordered mind. You stand within reach in front of her, trying your best to look into her emotionless eyes. 

You knew then that she knew what you had been up to.

“Sungjin told me where you were earlier today.” The glare deepens. “Kim Sunwoo.” The name comes out venomously, her arms coming up to the cross, disappointed by the old friend that you spent time with. “Do you wish to be as foolish as that boy?”

The words stir something up in your obedient self. “Is my happiness foolish to you?”

“You're a child, and your definition of happiness has not matured,” she spits out. “Your manners are repulsive. You decide to come to Korea unnoticed, kick Sungjin out and bring shame to the family. You think breaking the rules gives you adrenaline, but in the long run, it's nothing.” You thought it was over until she delivered the final blow, “Especially not with a boy like him.”

“Explain that please, because Sunwoo is not nothing.” You clench on your bag’s strap, the material creaking at the pressure. “He's not just a boy to me.” Your voice grew dangerously louder. “He's held me in his arms, and he wouldn't let go unless I would initiate the first move. He's told me words that make the weight in my chest bearable. He's smiled at me to remind me that the world is not as grim, dark and ugly as I thought it might be. Yes, he’s not perfect, but he’s human, and he’s making an effort to make it better.”

“Foolish,” not a bit of mercy in her tone. “Those are all things that another person can give.”

Your eyelids fall in frustration, shutting them close to rid of the coming headache. Words never worked on your mother, and pairing that with how she hates Sunwoo, you knew nothing would come out of this. “It’ll never be the same,” you mumble under your breath. “Other people will never be him.”

“Thankful for that one,” she heaves an exaggerated relief. “No one should have entered that prestigious high school by kicking a filthy ball.”

"Sunwoo was a star player, mum. He even played for the youth state team. He's more capable than you think, so please stop assuming negative things about him!” You can’t believe that your tone raised, though not dangerously, but it ended sharp enough for a flare to start in her eyes.

The metal around his fingers grazes across the side of your face. “I don’t care what you want from me. You’re going back overseas."

"No,” you stood your ground despite the sting on the side of your face.

“This is your final warning. Go back and never associate yourself with that dog ever again."

"Don't call him that-"

“Hear this then,” you gulp at the sinister smile, her hand lowering away from your face to your hollow chest. “You don’t go back? Fine. But that puny bicycle shop? It's only a couple thousand dollars to buy.” A dark aura reminds you once more of how powerless you are at the bottom of the family hierarchy. The lady of the house made her figure in the house clear when she leans in to your stammering breaths, “Can you handle being the person that crushes his dream?”

TWELVE: FACING THE TRUTH & PROMISES

Your first attempt of telling your friends about moving failed as expected. You couldn’t get your lips to form the right shapes, awkwardly playing it off each time the topic came to mind. The thought of being far away from everyone made your stomach churn, but there was nothing you could do to follow your parents. The storm in your head causes Millie to jolt at the slam of metal against metal, hand over her chest to grasp her rapidly beating heart. 

"Whoa," she nervously raises an eyebrow with a stiff smile. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," you mumble uninterestedly. Yet your words aren’t uncomfortable when your forehead hits the locker once more. The metal is disgustingly lukewarm; no coolness is provided to your head like you wanted.

"Are you just Sunwoo-deprived?"

You grumble at the teasing tone, "No, I'm not Sunwoo depriv-"

"Because he’s walking down the hallway right now, just so you know."

Your back immediately straightens, head turning everywhere for the messy untucked uniform and loose tie around the neck. To your expectations, some of his hair strands are out of place, and it completes Sunwoo's everyday look. The boy pats his pockets for his phone while you clutch your books against your chest firmly, waiting for him to notice your staring. Usually, you would run up to him, but you're needing assurance from him that it's okay to leap into his arms without any other words.

Millie also stood confused at your still self, turning her head between Sunwoo and you alternatively. She sighs at your fastened foot tapping, deciding to pop on his phone:

    someones waiting for you dumbass

    look up from your phone

Sunwoo's lips form a circle shape, eyes searching for you as he pockets his phone. At the sight of you, his lips curl up, just like his eyes. But then, his expression falls when he catches the pout on your lips and deflated shoulders a few steps away. It’s only when he extends his arms to his side that your foot stops tapping, and you shove your belongings to Millie.

You hop to Sunwoo's arms, leaping onto his arms. "Whoa there," he twirls you briefly with his arms wrapping around your middle. Sunwoo lands you on your feet safely, "Why'd you just stand there today? You usually just run to me."

Your shrug didn't convince Sunwoo, and the fact that you weren't letting go of the hug to bury your face into his chest only complicates him more. Sunwoo hums for now, threading his fingers between your locks.

"You know you can't lie to me, right?" The grip around his body tightens. "When you're ready, I'll listen. Whatever it is."

You nod to his chest, ears against his calming heartbeat. "Promise?"

It's now that Sunwoo realises whatever is troubling you isn't a simple matter. It won't go away with a good night's sleep and not with a hearty meal. You only ask him to promise you when things weigh you down heavily, and the last time you did this was when you pulled all-nighters for an upcoming test. You made him promise to let you take a nap on his shoulder after it was all over.

Sunwoo stops playing with your hair, tenderly placing his palm on the side of your neck. The touch sends shivers down your spine, and you pull away to meet his kind, gentle eyes. His thumb traces along your jawline as he places a kiss on your forehead. All the voices in your head died down, and your mind could finally rest.

That's Kim Sunwoo's effect on you. And it's powerful, just like his words: "Promise."

The sight when you broke the news wasn’t pretty. Eric found out from his dad, and Millie found out by accidentally eavesdropping on Eric confronting you about hiding it for so long. And Sunwoo? Sunwoo was standing not too far away, body still at the news. Of course, he congratulated you, however, he can’t fully say that he meant it. Following the realisation of his growing feelings, he wants you to stay.

The world weighed on you heavily as you drove to Sunwoo’s store. You feel like such a stalker, observing Sunwoo sharing knowledge about his passion to a customer down the street. Last night flashes back, and you can't help but flinch as if your mother’s hand, clad in golden rings, hits your now-healed cheek. You turn away, refusing to remember Sunwoo's bright smile as he waves at the little kid who jumps excitedly at her fixed camera. The mother thanked him before crouching to calm her child from disturbing other people in the store. 

Maybe it’s a sign from the universe because after the satisfied customers leave, Sunwoo feels the attention on him outside. If it was even possible, Sunwoo’s smile expands infinitely at the sight of you. He wouldn’t tell you, but he spent the entirety of last night placing your cookies on his prettiest plate, stacking the perfect circles on the porcelain and shifting icing sugar to make the dish look more photogenic. His camera app dominates his screen time as he takes the physical memory precious time, setting the food as his lock screen and wallpaper- he regrets not taking a photo of you with it.

The muscles under your eyes twitch, feeling a waterfall. Unfortunately, Sunwoo’s eyes aren’t that good at spotting your sadness from across the road, jogging to your car in the empty traffic. You were still drowning in your thoughts that you didn’t realise his approaching presence, eyes dulling then widening slowly with his approaching figure from the corner of your eye. His knuckle taps on the glass to grab your attention, and you roll your window down to face him with slightly quivering lips. 

“Are you stalking me?”

His hair strands are a mess, typical with a towel hanging from his neck and the creased button-up shirt. Sunwoo isn’t afraid to show this side of himself to you. Back in high school, he made it a habit to show up like this because you would be the one fixing his uniform and saving him from detention. 

You prepared the rehearsed smile, forcibly pushing last night’s events out of your head. “Just wanted to see you working…”

Sunwoo raises one of his eyebrows at the unique reason, the corresponding corner of his lip doing the same. He leans in, an arm resting on the gap where the motorised window would be. His bangs dance due to the air conditioning of the car, the strands flowing freely. 

“Kinda creepy, don't you think?” 

He’s truly going to make you faint. One wrong move and his lips would probably be touching yours, and usually, Sunwoo would be the one to back away, but he was so entranced by you that the proximity didn’t even cross his mind. And once you turn away, his smirk flattens, lips disappearing between the rows of his teeth. 

“Are you busy? Can I come in?” The sentence trails off but doesn't manage to go unnoticed by Sunwoo.

Though heartbroken at how you didn’t spare a glance at him, Sunwoo nods and fixes his once-bending posture. “Of course,” he invites you. “It was delivery day today, so it's very messy. Don’t tell me off! It’s not my fault!” 

You give him the benefit of the doubt for now, nodding unconvincingly at him. The boy is prepared to defend himself when the entrance bell rings. You retreat behind the computer, ready to put sales through, while also admiring Sunwoo. The noises surrounding you blur as you keep your eyes on him. Emotions welled up in your throat, your mum’s voice ringing once more. You snap back to the present moment when the customer accidentally drops her film refills.

Sunwoo came standing to your right after. “You alright?”

You nod, but then sigh when you know that you can’t fool Sunwoo into thinking otherwise. “No,” your voice is broken with honesty.

“Let’s talk about it.” He offers, spinning you around to face him. Sunwoo pulls the gas lift on the chair to lower you closer to his eye level when he kneels to you. Your shaky hands on your lap are stabilised with Sunwoo’s blanketing them. “I’m all ears for you, hm?”

“Maybe later, customers might come in and-”

“You’re right. I should flip the sign to ‘closed’-”

“Don’t do that, you lazy raccoon.” 

The animal nickname that you gave him slipped out unexpectedly, and Sunwoo is pleasantly surprised hearing the animal that has been associated with him coming from you. His stare on you softens endearingly landing soft on your widened eyes. You lower you head to your thighs, hiding your flustered look.

“Can’t catch a breath whenever I’m with you, bubs.”

Two can play the game when Sunwoo calls you with the nickname that he has specially for you. A deep red blushes across his cheekbones, yet Sunwoo tries to hide his nervousness by clearing his throat. He sucks in a wave of air through his mouth, momentarily chuckling and proud of himself for finally calling you with the familiar name.

His thumb constantly offers soothing swipes on the back of your hand. “I have something for you.” Sunwoo’s other free hand rummages through his things. 

A box is what he extends to you. Inside, Grandma Lee’s accessories, keyrings that remind him of you, small plushies from claw machines that he overspent on, and handwritten letters from his yearning heart are what he has packed inside over the years. Every single piece differs yet compliments the other if you were to use all of them at the same time. Wordlessly, Sunwoo takes a clip and slides the bottom part of it across your scalp, adjusting it accordingly on you. The smile he offers is a mix of affection and disbelief that his gifts have finally made it to you. It didn’t end there, as he pulled out three similar-sized photo books from under the table beside him.

“It’s flimsy because I made it, but these are photos that I took when you weren’t here.” Sunwoo lays each book one by one, stacking them up while your one free hand holds onto them dearly. 

That’s all it took for the tears to finally fall. You flip through the albums of pictures that he has compiled when you were away. Three thick books, each one for a year each. He documents the shenanigans that you have missed, hoping that you would know how much he thinks of you. He slips in a few scenes of views that you would enjoy, and arbitrary captures such as him accidentally pressing the shutter button. It’s all silly and fun. With Sunwoo’s calming voice and the tears leaving your eyes, there are so many things roaming in your mind.

“I’ve always wanted to give this to you. I didn’t want you to be left out.” Sunwoo takes the books away from you, leaving them on the counter, “But this little one is the most precious thing I have.”

Sunwoo’s voice fades out near the end. You gulp. “What is it?”

The boy almost didn’t want to let go of the final gift that he has for you. Unlike before, Sunwoo is reluctant to open the book, “Pictures of just us. And you. I look at it whenever I miss you. Open it later when you're alone.”

The one small book is filled to the brim, minus the last page. Most of them are candid pictures, some funny but overall mostly ones that made his heart race with just one look. It’s only when Sunwoo lifts you by the chin that you finally have the strength to look up to his eyes.

The pads of your fingers dig into the sides of the small book on your lap, muscles shaking with the force. Sunwoo feels all of this, heart shattering into pieces at your agony. Inside your mind, he knows something is in your mind, but he doesn’t know what it is. However, he does know that you deserve an explanation for all of his questionable past actions. Sunwoo lifts his bottom from the back of his lower limbs, lifting himself closer to you. He kisses your forehead, lingering on your skin before speaking up.

“Three years,” your body freezes at the familiar timeframe, “that’s how long I’ve been a coward for. Truthfully, anyone would argue longer. But for the three years that I’ve barely texted you back, had any contact with you, causing you confusion and pain, I really am sorry for it all, bubs. I want to make it up to you if you’ll let me.”

You shake your head, an incredulous scoff hitting your lips, “Why’d you do it?”

“Because you deserve so much better than me,” his voice low and daggers deep into your heart. “I knew from the very start that your mum hates me, and I get it. I snuck you out and stopped you from studying. But I was selfish and told myself that what your mum thinks isn’t what you think. But then, when we got caught that day and you couldn’t go out anymore…”

His voice fades as the air becomes heavier the more Sunwoo makes his heart lighter. Even so, you appreciate the enlightenment, and you would gladly take his worries, carrying them together. After all, when carrying something alone becomes crushing, another hand is just what is needed. 

“I felt guilty for it all, and I guess I didn't know how to handle it. You’ve always loved going out, but after what happened, you couldn’t step one foot outside the house unless it was for school. I took your freedom away. So when I heard you were going, I took it as an opportunity to let you go.” Sunwoo searches for any emotion on your face: anger, sadness- just anything.

But then you bravely lift the corner of your lips, and your touch blankets his jawline. “I loved that day, Sunwoo. You took nothing away from me. You have no idea how glad I felt to be out of that house.”

Sunwoo lived in ‘what ifs’ till now about that event. What if he didn't take you out? What if he just third-wheeled Eric and Millie? What if he turned away after the first failed attempts? With your words, he finally lets all of it go, knowing your side of the situation. His knees give out, and he repositions his body on the floor, now cross-legged with his elbows on his thighs. 

Your head shakes, eyesight blurring at Sunwoo’s audibly sniffles below you. When you lean your body to kneel in front of him, you embrace Sunwoo tightly. Your timbre soothes him, sweet nothings naturally sending his heartbeat crazy. Tears soak your collar where Sunwoo homes at, and the familiarity of seeking comfort with one another hits you like a wave. 

“I was very happy that day, Sunwoo.” Your hold on his body tightens. “Were you?”

His bangs rustle against your fabric. “Very.”

“I'm glad then.” That's all you needed to hear. “Because the best thing in my life is seeing you happy.”

Sunwoo pulls his body away and clasps your shoulders, “I was happy because I was with you.” A tense gulp before continuing further, “You're the best thing in my life.”

Your eyes sparkle from the brimming tears around your eyes. The flustered boy uses his thumb to wipe them away, apologising for making you cry along with him.

“I love seeing you happy, Sunwoo. So, promise me that you’ll always strive for happiness.”

There it is: A request for a promise. “Did you know that when something is weighing you down, you start to ask me to promise things?” You still at the accuracy of his words, lower lip chewed in denial. “So I’ll promise you that if you promise me something back.”

Sunwoo guides your breathing, eyes trained on your lips only a few centimetres away from him. He tries his best to meet your eyes again, diverting immediately to hide the love hearts in his. 

“Okay,” you agree between sniffles.

“Whatever choices you make from now on, you make them for yourself, not others.”

Choices. There are so many of them that we make in life. The easy, rudimentary ones to the life-changing, difficult ones. It's never been your forte as you're used to following what others have chosen for you. You're not used to taking your path, at least not without proper permission to do so.

“And if I fall?”

“I promise I'll be there to catch you.” Sunwoo offers his pinky finger out to you, hoping for you to take it. 

You spend the next few seconds staring at it, teardrops passing the tender cheek where your mum’s hand was yesterday. Sunwoo’s hand starts to falter, but just before he uncurls the rest of his fingers, you capture and curl his pinky with yours.

“I promise.”

THIRTEEN: WHEN KARMA STRIKES

A few days have passed since that day. After closing the store, Sunwoo was able to fulfil your wishes for a convenience store dinner with your phone propped up against the window to watch anime. It's a miracle the workers didn't kick you both out with the booming reactions to the show. 

If you did get kicked out, would the adrenaline that you and Sunwoo matched crash immediately? Would you notice your subconsciousness linking your arm with his? Would you notice the stolen glances by your side?

Because after that day, you avoid Kim Sunwoo like a plague. 

Eric and Millie too were left on delivered for hours on end. It drives Sunwoo crazy to be on the receiving silent end this time, and he feels that karma has rightfully gotten him. He can’t complain; if anything, he should put up with this to understand everything that he put you through thousands of kilometres away.

His day off started with multiple attempts to get a hold of you. The pillow mutes his groans while the mattress mutes his flailing limbs. Apart from the fact that he's bored, he's missing you a lot after expressing his feelings that day at the shop. He curses internally, and he knocks a box that has been sitting on his bedside table.

The thud on his floor is met with a concerned knock on his door. “Are you alright? I thought you were auditioning to be Tarzan.”

The son shrugs at his father, “More like a dinosaur, but I'll take it.”

The man at the door shakes his head at his child, rolling his eyes playfully. His shoulder leans on the doorframe, eyes scanning the messy room. He stills at the photo frame of his full family on his son’s desk.

The elder’s chin nudges towards the photograph, "You definitely got your love for photography from your mum,” approaching Sunwoo’s desk. “She said that pictures made everything last forever, and she always wanted to look at them whenever she misses that particular time.” 

The man rarely talks about his wife. Maybe it's his way of coping. Maybe that's his sign of moving on. Either way, Sunwoo knows that his dad holds his wife with strong regard and love as he stares at the photograph. The top part of the frame becomes dust free from his quick sweep across the wood.

“That’s why she loved taking pictures of us. So that when she left, we would never forget all the things we did with her.”

His lips dries at the thought of you. The bedsheet under his palm creates a whirlpool of wrinkles, creasing the fabric. Sunwoo has always loved taking pictures of you from the very start, it wasn’t only because you were leaving. But when he knew you were, he did start to take a lot more. 

“But it hurts sometimes.” Now sitting up on the bed, he has a better view of his unopened birthday present from you on the floor. “It hurts to look at pictures of someone that you love.”

Being an active parent even before his wife’s passing, Sunwoo’s dad has the fatherly instinct on the same level as the motherly instinct that is commonly known. Those instincts only became better after being the only parent left for him. And so, just a single look at Sunwoo’s distraught expression, the dad nods as he believes that he has an accurate idea of what’s troubling his son.

“Have you ever told her that you love her?” Sunwoo’s face shoots up to his dad, eyes wide open. The silence is all his dad needs to know. “So you haven’t,” he concludes for himself. “That day when you both were cooking together, I could tell from your eyes. It's how I looked at your mum.”

“There’s no point telling her anyway,” he defends himself fuitely. “I’m not good for her.”

“Now, who dares make my son think that way?” The father ruffled the boy’s hair as Sunwoo grumbled. “The only words that matter in this situation are hers.” No other words are said when he steps closer to the door, giving Sunwoo the room to evaluate his behaviour. "Don't ever look at your pictures with anyone and regret anything, son."

FOURTEEN: TIES BROKEN

You’ve been staring at the cover of the smaller photo album for the last few minutes, trying to will yourself to flip to the first page. Every time your finger brushes the the cover, it retracts as if they’re trying to save you from something: from heartbreak, from the pain, from running back to Sunwoo’s arms and ruining everything in his life because of your selfishness.

“No,” stepping away from your desk and pacing around the room. 

Your steps are just as fast as the thoughts ruminating and bouncing in your mind. It’s so disruptive that it overpowers the insistent knocking on your door. The person outside runs out of patience, revealing their furrowed eyebrows.

“Get out of your room,” your mum demands over your thoughts. “All the guests are coming soon. Sungjin is coming soon too and you haven’t done anything but shower. Don’t make others wait because of you.” With that, the door slams, and your body jolts at the resonating sound that you would assume you’re used to by now.

You turn your head away from the door, not yet processing your emotions over the past few days. You didn’t give yourself the space and time because you’ve been scared that you wouldn’t be able to handle it. Back then, if you ever felt the need to break down, you did it in the comfort of someone’s arms. Now, that thought will forever remain a wish. No one can no longer catch you as you break down, and the loneliness in the open room starts to hit you minimally. Before your knees gave out, you crash yourself onto the bed, folding your knees to your chest as you take the next few seconds to deny reality.

“I miss you already, Sunwoo.”

And he misses you dearly too, and he’s acting on it. With this dad’s words motivating him, he manages to throw small pebbles onto your window pane. The constant thuds of familiarity on wood pulls you to directly face the sun despite puffy, sensitive eyes. You squint to adjust to the lighting, looking down to see a certain puffed-out boy outside. His smile widens at the sight of you, beaming brighter than the golden hour setting before your skin. Your eyebrows knit, and it doesn’t take long before his smile slowly flattens at your shaking head. His fist clenches by his side, mustering the courage to stand his ground. 

“Front door?” He asked, full of hope. “Please?”

Sunwoo leaves you space to think: to reject or to accept. The former you found excruciating to voice out, but the other option shouldn’t be challenged. All you need to do is to say the word that you said earlier when you’re faced with his photobook, but instead, your head nods, already imagining the relief of Sunwoo holding your figure tightly. You decide that his suggested place to meet is one of the many ways to be in his arms because you learnt from your experiences. You stashed a rope made by tying blankets into your wardrobe for times like these. One end of the rope is tied to one of the bed legs, and the rest of the tail is out of the window. The fabric hits Sunwoo on the head, causing momentary blackness and confusion until he notices the knots leading up to your window. 

“Wait, wait, wait-” He flails his hands to you, “Hold on!”

Your feet dangle over the edge of your window, looking down at Sunwoo, who readies himself to catch you. Sunwoo tugs the rope, teaching you how to climb down without hurting yourself. You follow his words, except for the fact that you let go of the rope earlier than he expected, almost tumbling him to the floor. Whilst Sunwoo balances himself and you from the force, you immediately nestled your face into the crook of his neck. Your arms around his neck pull him to you closer, and Sunwoo has no problems with leaning down to make sure you’re more comfortable.

His fingers comb through your hair, goosebumps arising all over you. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“You said you would always catch me.” Your ragged breath hits his skin. No other words are heard from you as his collar dampens to your tears. “So I have nothing to be afraid of.”

Supple lips meet the crown of your head. “Have you been crying alone?” A little nod from you shatters him, “You should’ve called me so that you weren’t alone.” Calling him might be a stretch, considering that you haven’t even texted him, but it was worth the try of reassurance. “I couldn’t reach you, and I was missing you a lot.” 

It’s only now that Sunwoo realises that those words never left his mouth. He has showered you with lots of love and attention ever since you came back, but his words haven’t been the best at showing it. You grip the back of his loose shirt, only continuing to sob quietly in his presence.

His teeth trap his bottom lip, a humourless chuckle hitting the shell of your ears, “Selfish, right? After all that I did.” 

You want to agree with him. Maybe it’s possible for the negative connotations of human selfishness to modify when it comes to love because if this is human selfishness, then he should be selfish more often.

Your hug around his neck makes it almost impossible for Sunwoo to see any part of you except the top of your head. He doesn’t push for anything else, understanding that he’s the only shield that you have from the world. Sunwoo waits for your breathing to even out, using the exhalation hitting his skin as an indication. An arm finds homage by circling your lower back, and his free hand massages your scalp with the tips of his fingers. His contact grounds you further from the physical stability he provided.

“What’s going on, hm?” You shake your head, not knowing if it’s in for denial or refusal. You thought he would leave it there, but the hand on your head slides to cup your cheek, pulling you slightly away from him. “Look at me, please.”

You can’t. Not when you have no idea what you would tell him if you did meet the eyes that hold your whole world. From afar, the gates to your house creak open, and the roaring engine swallows your whimpers and Sunwoo’s heartbeat despite the proximity. Gushes of praises at your two-storey house and the flirty tone of the woman churn your stomach as you imagine how she exaggerates her puckering lips loose to greet your mum.

“Where’s my soon-to-be daughter-in-law?” 

Sunwoo swears if it wasn’t for you needing him at the moment, he would have popped in from the side of the house and introduced himself despite potentially making the situation worse. He wants to tell the unknown lady that you’re not her daughter-in-law; or at least that’s what he wants. But with no further communication from you two, and how you’re holding onto him like you’re running out of breath, his chest tightens at the sure feeling that something is not right. 

“She’ll be out soon!”. 

His eyes flare, turning his head to the side where the voices are, and there’s a prominent vein that runs along the side of his neck when you slightly tilt your head towards him. You’ve never seen Sunwoo with such emotion before, and your hold around his neck loosens to bring his attention back to you. Almost immediately, the fire dies, and his gaze softens towards you. His thumb caresses the side of your neck. A battle unfolds between your desires and protecting the boy that your heart belongs to. Your head only becomes increasingly hotter with how he presses his forehead on yours, something that you should be used to but never did. You hope with your chest kissing his, your rapid heartbeat goes unnoticed; because of him, and your emotions threatening to burst.

The slightest movement alarms him. His bangs tickle your forehead as he shakes his head. “Don’t go…” 

There’s a lump in your throat, and you keep your eyes on his sneakers. “You know I have to.”

“No, you don’t,” he confirms. “Not unless you want to.” 

To Sunwoo, it’s his subtle way of reminding you of the promise you gave him. For you, his words are enough to jumble your thoughts.

“I have to or else your shop-”

“My shop?” If Sunwoo thought he wasn’t understanding you before, he has completely lost you now. “What does my shop have anything to do with this?” You bit your tongue while prying yourself from his grip. Sunwoo did let go, but you couldn’t will yourself to widen the gap by more than two steps. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

You shake your head, fists clenched beside you. “You have to go, Sunw-”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.” A layer of moisture forms on his eyes. “Please talk to me.”

How could you? How could you tell him of your mum’s words from a few days ago? How she basically made you choose between being with him or taking away his happiness? How could you possibly make him choose? You know how much the store means to Sunwoo from his and returning customers.

You don’t want to be the one to take everything away from him. Not when nothing was his fault in the first place. Though hesitant, your head inevitably shakes at him, and Sunwoo could crumble and break into pieces.

"I’m so sorry, Sunwoo.”

"For what?"

You hope your shoulder shrug is enough to let this conversation go. Your throat constricts with the way Sunwoo grits his teeth, eyes training into you. You force yourself to make something up. For your voice to let an excuse out. Just anything; anything to let this topic pass.

"For coming back and making you uncomfortable. For hurting you like this and-"

“Stop,” his voice pierces into your words. “You're not making me uncomfortable, and you're not hurting me at all. If anything, that's me to you.” Tears start to well up, threatening to fall with each word that comes from his heavy heart. “I know I haven't been the best person, and I know I haven't made up for that, but I can't do that if I'm going to lose you.”

Lose.

The thought had crossed his mind a lot the past few days, but he never said it aloud for fear of hearing it. The word being spoken only makes the situation real, and you're aware of the clenching in your chest. Your heart beats against your eardrums, and the world slightly shifts, deafening the chirps of the birds soaring freely across the hues of red and orange.

Sunwoo’s palms rest comfortably on your shoulders. “I’m so scared of losing you. Of letting you slip away…” 

With his words, anyone could safely assume that he’s the one that needs the comfort more than you. The single drop strikes across his cheek but doesn’t break his courageous smile. Instead, it only pushes the tears behind your eyelids to fall. Your thumb swipes his endless tears. His eyelashes flutter, breath shuddering at how gentle you're treating him. All Sunwoo does is stare at you while you take hold of his face.

“Don't be scared,” your voice breaks halfway. “I came back because I missed you so much. I never blamed you for distancing yourself from me. I'm just so sorry that you felt so guilty because of me, and I don’t want you to feel like that anymore."

Panic paints Sunwoo’s face when your hand flops to your side. You slip past him, walking towards the front of the house. As you passed, Sunwoo caught a glimpse of your wavering lips, orbs shaking towards the mud and soil. His fear prompts his hand to reach your upper arm desperately.

You shake his grip off rather harshly, turning around with streaming tears. "You said you were happy, Sunwoo. Don't take it back now." 

"Because you were in my arms! I had everything that I wanted when you asked me that question!” Sunwoo’s voice rasps with each exclamation. Each breath surges with pain at each breath but he forces himself to blink his tears away. “Are you walking away because you want to? You promised that you would act on what you want…”

The reminder is grim, and your smile is all the more fake. The way you shrug your shoulders lifelessly is enough to tell you that you have broken your promise, and Sunwoo is left frozen with nature, blowing his body side to side with it. With his condition, a gust of wind is enough to topple him over.

“Some promises were meant to be broken…”

When you drag your feet across the soil, you’re partially aware that your mum will eventually find the trail of dirt across her marbled floor. You mentally prepare yourself for the questions, unlike your preparation to cut ties with Sunwoo with the words hung in the air. 

Each step takes a part of you. Each step makes your body numb to the chilling wind. Each step is a confirmation of leaving him. Each step is full of your love for Sunwoo. Sometimes, letting go could be the answer to everything.

Never once did you turn back to face him and you ignore the urge to glance your eye to the side when you make a turn to the front door. If you did turn, you would have gotten your final glance of your first and last love. But you would see nothing but the way he hides his face from the world behind his palms, tears trailing down his arms.

FIFTEEN: PROTECTOR AND DEFIER

The day before your flight was your graduation party. Everyone knew of your departure by then, and Sunwoo knew when you both danced to the mellow music that he’s deeply in love with you. His realisation and the timing of it all resulted in him being dazed in his thoughts ever since the news of your leaving.

Your body sways with Sunwoo, and with how united you are with him, your departure is momentarily forgotten. Your dance partner being slightly out of the present moment has been a look that you have gotten used to. He knows that it’s not your choice. He knows it's for your best interest, knowing well that studying abroad would give you a great advantage in the job industry. He’s powerless, completely defeated by your parents’ valid reasoning. Running out of time, he finds himself thinking of a future without you rather than savouring the present with you. 

Each song passes with no prolonged eye contact from Sunwoo, so your hands cup his nape. Your warmth sent goosebumps up his skin, and he diverted his eyes from the graduation poster behind you to your eyes. A weak smile stretches his lips when he realises the crease between your eyebrows.

“What are you thinking about?”

Would kissing your forehead be too much right now? Would it ease your mind like how his mind would? In the end, Sunwoo only offers a head shake. “How we first met.”

Sunwoo watches his words bring a big stretch from your lips from one ear to the other. You could taste the fried potato from that day, the wind growing stronger as you come closer to admire the waves of the sea, and the saltiness infiltrating your nose. The way that you and Sunwoo met was a little messy, and if it wasn’t for Sunwoo cutely panicking from his actions, you and him would probably be enemies.

That day, Eric and Millie were only starting to date, and you decided to give the new couple some extra space; you were also saving yourself from being a third wheel after being stuck with them for hours. It’s so excruciating to see their flirty remarks and not-so-innocent touches after mutual pining for so long. As the three of you reach the coastline, you slowly slip away from the couple, venturing the area yourself. It was just you and your snack against everyone’s delightful chattering. Everywhere you go, even the ones that are alone like you, content smiles lit the place brighter than the stalls and the colourful decorative lanterns. You wander almost aimlessly, not paying much attention to your surroundings. 

When repetitive shutter clicks near you, your shoes plant themselves into the sand. You held the remnants of your snack tightly, ready to use its stick for self-defence. Your body whips to the side, trying to find anyone near you holding a camera. The person holding the camera is still unaware of the panic he accidentally caused. He leisurely clicks through his snapshots, rapidly clicking through the frame-by-frame shots of the beach and its setting sun as the background. He hopes that he can capture even the slightest movement of the sun going to sleep for the day. He did, but he also captured the way your clothes leave after-images as you turn around. Your facial expression is blurry, but that’s not a problem when you approach him soon after, a raised eyebrow suspicious of his work. 

Prompt explanation and recognition of being in the same school is the beginning of your friendship. That’s also the first time that he showed his work to anyone else than his dad. It gave him great relief to hear your compliments. Ever since then, you and Sunwoo have seen each other at school more often, and he joins you as a third wheel to Eric and Millie.

“I’ll never forget your face that day,” you chuckle at how wide-eyed Sunwoo was, stuttering and panicked.

You both spent some time recollecting the early events of your friendship. When the memories grow closer to the present time, that’s when Sunwoo refuses to meet his eyes to yours as much as he can. His steps are no longer matching the music, and he holds the side of your body loosely.

Your heart breaks into pieces, knowing that the news of your leaving affected him much more than you thought. “Let’s take a little break.” You pull him away from the crowd.

Sunwoo rests on a chair while you leave for refreshments. The boy hangs his face low, sweating palms clamping onto his knees and fingers tapping hurriedly on his thighs. Shutting his eyes only rid him of the physical world, and he’s already imagining every day without being able to easily see you. The biggest transition after high school was only supposed to be how he wouldn’t see you every day from eight to three. 

That’s it. It should’ve been just that. 

Should he confess now? Would it burden you? Would it cause his friendship with you to rift apart permanently? 

You’re only a few steps away from a deeply distressed Sunwoo. Your grip on the cup could have shattered it, the same way your heart is at the current moment. When you were finally in front of him, you placed the cup on the table next to you, crouching on the floor to look up to Sunwoo. You tried calling his name, but he barely gave a reaction. Your hands soothe over his hand, thumbs running along his skin. No words were exchanged, not when drops of water landed on the back of your hands. 

“I’ll miss you…”

You nod, voice starting to betray you. “I’ll miss you more. I’ll text you every day.” Sunwoo dips his forehead to yours. “I promise.”

The hug that he indulges you with after dropping you off is the last one. Sunwoo was absent at the airport the next day, only sending you a quick text minutes before your flight took off. Even though the plane had access to the internet connection, your message to him would be left on delivered for a few more days and left on read for weeks after. 

In between the chaoticness of a new life and unfamiliarity, missing Sunwoo had to be one of the hardest challenges that you had to overcome. Sometimes, during calls, Eric or Millie would slip his name nonchalantly, unaware of the situation. The weight of everything crashed down on one call, and the mention of his name was your final straw.

Sunwoo regrets not seeing you off. He let his insecurities beat him. If he was brave enough to confess his feelings, would you have stayed? If he important enough for you to stay?

He has looked for ways to blame staying in his bed and missing sending you off to your external circumstances like your parents. But he knew deep down that your parents wouldn’t stop him despite their hate for him. He wishes you would hate him for only reaching out during special days and practically ignoring you otherwise. But deep down, wishes for the opposite.

Kim Sunwoo has done regrettable things for the past three years. 

It’s been a week since he cried for you. Maybe the world is telling him that he’s too late, and he doesn’t blame anyone. The world has given him many chances, and so have you. Maybe this is the time that he would learn to live with his actions. Maybe the world won. Maybe the world wanted him to feel hopeless and lost, the same way that he made you feel for three continuous years. 

Sunwoo lets himself off with an extended time of rotting in bed. The ceiling became the medium for his mind to replay his favourite moments with you; and what life might have been with you. The pillow collects his silent cries. It's only when his hand outstretches and knocks a box that he faces reality.

Puffy eyes and fatigue reach for the now slightly dented box. Sunwoo has been avoiding opening your birthday gift but still keeps it by his side when he musters his courage to open your hard work for him. The ribbon shimmers from the evening shine outside, yet it never reflected in his orbs. His finger pulls on one of the long tails, inhaling deeply for the contents inside. A handmade raccoon keychain stares at him with its starstruck eyes and wide smile. If Sunwoo had a mirror every time he laid his eyes on you, he would know that the raccoon is indeed himself. A gulp passes his throat as he shakily lifts his gift closer to him, tender eyes examining the effort that you’ve put in. The slipped note from you congratulated him for his special day, wishing him lifelong happiness and health, as well as an apology if you didn’t do well with his gift.

“Yeah right,” he shakes his head with a smile, holding the raccoon close to his chest. “Lifelong happiness without you,” his palm clenches at the thought, “how am I going to do that?”

Kim Sunwoo loves challenges. He loves doing them too because he knows that you’ll support him on his journey, and waiting for him at the finish line. But if your finish line is his start line, then he would never take on those challenges.

Getting a wink of sleep was a miracle, and his dad would cheer if Sunwoo even left his room. His health declines, and the time he spends flipping through his photos increases. The familiarity of those photos makes him sane, as much as it makes him insane. The past week hits him when his messages are left undelivered even through multiple resends. You left the group chat, and your profile in multiple social media accounts are hidden from Sunwoo’s. You disappeared from his physical and technological world. The only thing he truly has of you now are the time that he spent with you in framed pictures and his memories. 

“Fuck,” he humourlessly chuckles. “Is this what I get for being a coward?”

The beeping and ringtone of his phone blares through his room. Sunwoo isn’t fazed by the sound replacing the silence. He swipes his thumb to accept the call without sparing a glance at the caller’s ID.

“Hel-”

“Please tell me she’s with you!”

Beside him, Millie's distant voice is frantic at another person being able to bring good news on the statement Eric shouted to him earlier. Sunwoo’s back straightened, trying to piece together the limited amount of information from the two’s lack of air. 

“Eric, what’s going on?”

“She’s not at home, Sunwoo! And we’ve been looking for her for a while now, and Auntie is getting so furious! I have no idea where she is! No one does, and she left her phone here and-”

“Okay, Eric. Take a deep breath,” Sunwoo traps his phone between his ear and shoulder. He stashes his essentials in his hoodie’s pockets. “I’m coming over now. Just hold on.”

Eric couldn’t get a word out when the line cut dead. Sunwoo drives over to your house, probably speeding past the limit numerous times; he decides a fine and demerits points are much better in the current situation. With every turn and adjustment on his stick shift, sweat rolls down the side of his face and forehead. The red lights seem like an eternity, and the green is faster than a blink. Taking a different route probably took longer than if Sunwoo just stayed put and waited a little bit more for the road to clear, but he’s not risking staying seated and watching the sun set with each second that passes. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he impatiently taps on the steering wheel at the road accident adding delay to his journey.

A mix of different coloured cars flooded the front gates of your house, some parked inside. By the door, Eric and Millie stood timidly side by side to an angry woman. The older one jabbed her index finger at Eric’s forehead, and just from his back view, Sunwoo could feel his emotions threatening to burst. It’s only when she directs her attention to Millie that Eric pushes her back behind him. 

“Don’t touch her,” Eric warns. “We’re all trying to find her here. Let’s not start another conflict, Auntie.”

“If you had monitored her properly and made sure she hung out with the right people outside the house, we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place!” Her gaze burns straight to Millie. “People like you and Kim Sunwoo! You’re the reason why she’s gone!”

“Auntie, I’m sor-”

“I’ll find her.” Sunwoo’s calm and determined voice cuts through the booming voice.

Kim Sunwoo takes the stairs with his chin up high, advancing closer to the three. The fourth person behind the door made his presence known, striking Sunwoo’s chest with his arm. No words were exchanged between the two, keeping their lips tight as each other’s existence surges and rages the bloodflow throughout their body.

“Get out, Kim Sunwoo.”

“This isn’t your house,” he spat out venomously, “whoever you are.”

Sungjin is ready to take Sunwoo into his own hands when the older man interrupts them. “How dare you come here?” 

His turns away from Sungjin to his friends, relaxing his stern look momentarily before facing the cross-armed woman. There she is in all her glory, with her face decorated with the best products and her body complete with the best brands. It turns out that those are not necessarily what makes a person arrogant, but instead, it’s the way she keeps her chin high to him at the top of the stairs. The way her eyes travel down to him and his baggy, non-branded clothes. It’s the way that her one leg extends to the side, ready to shoot him down. Sunwoo has never been face-to-face with your mum, only hearing stories. Maybe that should’ve made him cower, but for you and him, he’s sick of the world pulling you both apart.

“I never liked you, Kim Sunwoo. You distracted my daughter from her studies. You never even completed university. You don’t even have the money to own a proper vehicle. How dare you come here when you’re the reason why she has been misbehaving throughout the past few years of her life?”

Eric and Millie hopes for Sunwoo to keep his composure. Contrary to their expectations of Sunwoo giving into her words, Sunwoo shuts his eyes, dampening the force of the external world. Just like the past week that he spends thinking about the dear times he has spent with you, he consciously recollects ones that would help him stand his ground.

From the time you made it clear that you still think of him: “You didn't forget about me…I just thought I was the only one who held on to these memories.”

To the times when his actions brought you relief: “You have no idea how glad I felt to be out of that house.”

Or your selfless nature: “I love seeing you happy, Sunwoo. So, promise me that you’ll always strive for happiness.”

To the ones that your ‘selfish’ self wants: “I came back because I missed you so much. I never blamed you for distancing yourself from me.”

To the ones that trust and lean on him: “You said you would always catch me. So I have nothing to be afraid of.”

To the one who cares for him: “I love seeing you happy, Sunwoo. So, promise me that you’ll always strive for happiness.”

And ultimately, to the one question that he finally has the heart to say aloud: “Sunwoo, are you happy?”

“No,” he firmly confirms. “I’m not happy.”

His words didn’t match the question that the woman asked. The blatant way that Sunwoo ignores her question only pushes the woman to break Sunwoo further. “You don’t deserve to be happy after all that you’ve done, Kim Sunwoo.” The woman won when Sunwoo nodded, a smirk slowly forming on her face. A scoff follows her victory, “Then be on your way-”

“Maybe you’re right. I don’t deserve to be happy after all the trouble I caused her. It’s the reason why I always thought that your daughter deserves someone better.”

“Past tense?” An eyebrow raises at his confidence. “You still don’t deserve her, Kim Sunwoo.”

“Maybe,” he reiterates the word. “But I wasn’t the one who made her apologise to me for something that isn’t her fault. I wasn’t the one to make her look over her shoulder every time she followed her heart. I wasn’t the one who made her think that she couldn’t lean on her family.”

Eric had to hold his laughter back at his best friend’s words. His nods to Sunwoo’s words, making the latter spare him a glance. Sunwoo meets the eyes of his best friend carefully walking backwards to the bottom of the stairs. Millie nudges his shoulder, pointing to the keychain hooked around one of his pants’ belt loops and mouthing about how their little boy has grown. It took Kim Sunwoo a few years to say these words out loud. But a win is still a win. Sunwoo reaches the bottom of the stairs, still keeping his body facing Sungjin and your mother. When he has enough space from Sungjin, Sunwoo keeps his arms to his side as he bows to the older one.

“Your daughter made me promise that I’ll be happy for the rest of my life,” he lifts his head steadily leaving the group with newfound determination to keep his words, “so I’ll be on my way to do that.”

Finally, Sunwoo’s back greets her. “You pursue my daughter or even be near her ever again, and I will close your shop.”

That keeps his feet planted to the ground. His shop is way out of context, just like how it was a week before. This time, however, Sunwoo isn’t lost in following the situation. This information must have been something that you’ve carried by yourself, and he comes up with a ton of reasons as to why you would never dare tell him the truth. He knew something was up. He wanted to dig further but never had the chance to. His actions right now are what pulled the trigger, and he steps in the much-needed ‘trap’ that your mother would never want him to know. The elderly man smirks, expecting another bow with pleas and whimpers. 

Yet, as the sun is on its way to sleeping for the next few hours, Sunwoo encapsulates its scorching heat just for her as he turns his head. “You can try,” he shrugs. “I’m confident that I can protect everything that I care about from now on.”

SIXTEEN: WHEN THE SEA MEETS THE TEARS

As much as you hate to admit it, roaming out without your phone and jacket isn’t the best way to rebel against your mum. You're shivering in the sunset breeze, and your ankles, deeply buried in the scorching sand, are now numb. The thought of taking your shoes off was good, but you couldn’t find the energy to put them back on despite them being beside you. 

Before you, the sun is slowly setting. Your watch tells you that you've been roaming for almost two hours with no hints of boredom. The bird chirps its departure song, and the melody fades across the horizon. The wooden bench underneath your fingertips grounds you with the help of the cooling wind, but you welcome it with closed eyes. Your shirt dances, making you tuck your skirt tight beneath your thighs.

The time when Sunwoo sneaks you out for the festival comes to mind. The act was thrilling, especially after working every single drop of your brain juice and overworking yourself to the bone. You drown yourself in your thoughts, the sun making your forehead unnecessarily warmer. You're afraid to face the place that bought you both together; the waves crashing only push your tears out more.

"Should I go now?" You distantly wonder. "Probably," You answered your question.

You didn't leave just yet, though, staying just a little more before the inevitable lecture when you get back home. For some reason this time, you're not scared. You're not scared of your mum shouting at you, pressuring you to go back overseas and never to step foot in Korea unless she wants you to. You're not scared of getting to the airport and saying goodbye to Eric and Millie until your mum tells you to come back. You're not scared of the work that the new semester will put on you and the stress you'll be under.

You're scared of your mind repeating the scene from last week when a certain boy decides to speak his mind- no, his heart. His words replay in your mind millions of times. The worst thing to see is a distraught Sunwoo, and it kills you that you’re why he is. It took a lot of self-control to walk away without looking back. The weight of your words only sunk during dinner time, and you had to excuse yourself from the table as you ruined your makeup. The girl stares at you blankly in the mirror, with no life or spark; Sunwoo has always been the one who put them there. Sungjin trails behind you and makes it his goal to understand the meaning of your distress. He promises to treat you better, better than Sunwoo could ever do. Yet, getting treated better by Sungjin isn't what you wanted, and it'll never be that.

Kim Sunwoo. Truthfully, if you could say anything, you just want to be with him.

It’s only when your mind convinces your mum’s threat is worth it for the greater future that you finally passed out for the rest of the night. Even so, you wish you could take everything back. You wish you could spare him a glance, maybe mouth the three words you’ve kept away for so long. Kiss him on the forehead, cheek and maybe his jawline. Pull him close and let him rest on your chest. To snuggle against him both when the world is loud or silent; his heartbeat will deafen them anyway. Spoil him with his favourite food and things. Split the workload at his shop; a measly excuse to see him more during the twenty-four hours. Shower him with lots of love and affection until you’ve reached the end.

It seems that heaven has been listening to your yearnings. Silicone slaps the gravel footpath behind you the volume and pace alerting you to turn towards a heaving boy. His neck stops turning at the sight of you and his steps gradually slows. Sunwoo ruffles the bangs stuck to his forehead, wiping any excess sweat and taking in the salty air. The corners of his lips lifts dearly, pumping his fists into the air to celebrate his correct hunch on where you would be.

"Called it," he shrugs after steadying his breath. "Knew you'd be here."

You didn't respond, keeping a straight face towards him before returning to the vast ocean. If you knew heaven was listening, you wouldn't wish for his presence right now. You're tired, speechless and overwhelmed with your audacity of running away from home. Your shoulders comes into contact with cotton, his gentle cologne behind you mixing in with the saltiness of the sea. 

"It would suck to get sick.” He adjusted the fit on your figure, tying the sleeves loosely together to keep his jacket from slipping.

He walks towards the front of the bench, and you expect him to take a seat next to you. Sunwoo blocks the calming waves with his chest before kneeling to face you at eye level. As expected, you turn your head any other way than to him, but Sunwoo doesn’t miss the eyes void of emotions. Even with your favourite gummy smile of his, you still wouldn’t catch him a glance. A pout grows on his face when you ignore him, but the boy doesn't give up. His gaze lingers on the familiar photo book on your left. A calming smile overtakes his face, glad that at least you had it close to you like all the times that book was for him. 

Sunwoo takes the heel of your foot, dusting leftover grains and dust away before slipping the spare sandals he bought to your feet. 

“What are you doing?” You murmur weakly.

“Taking care of you just like how you always do to me.” Sunwoo takes your half-buried sneakers out of the sand, shaking them from any grains before setting them nicely against to watch the scenery. “Done,” satisfied with his work. 

Your eyes are dull at the last bit of sunlight that shines over his hair. It prompts you to lean towards him, pressing a chaste kiss on the crown of his head. Despite looking away, you catch Sunwoo admiring your face from the corner of your eye. The pink and orange reflecting on your skin only awes him more, stealing all of his attention to you. Your palms are clenched together on your lap. 

His eyes widen, perplexed at your act. “W-What was that for?” 

You shake your head, shrugging your shoulders. “Just repaying you for all the times you kissed me.”

Then he chuckles. You wish you could record it so that you could play it whenever you want to. Your fingers push and fidget against each other, catching Sunwoo’s attention. He slips his hands between yours, pushing them away from each other. His fingers link with yours determinely, the same way he lifts his chin to look at you.

“Look at me, bubs.” You did the opposite, neck touching your chest. It leaves him crestfallen.

The only part of Sunwoo that you could see is his lower body, knees deep in the sand. It’s only with the breeze that your gift from him slightly sways, chest and grip tightening at the smiling face. 

“Ddeonu…”

It’s a faint word, but Sunwoo caught it. “Is that the name of this little guy?” You spare him a nod. “You made him so cute. Just like me.” Sunwoo’s ability to lift your mood at any given time and place is truly remarkable. It was one of the first qualities that you fell in love with. Maybe it was the playful wink he throws in; maybe it's just him. “Did you flip through everything yet?”

You immediately knew what he was referring to, and you couldn’t bring any good news for him. It’s the truth, and you hope Sunwoo would be so disappointed that he would stand up and walk away. All you need is for him to tell you how much he hates you for not being able to do such a simple task, and you can go on with your life-

“Good.”

That’s the complete opposite reaction that you expected from him. Without a chance to go against him, Sunwoo traps your body between his arms by placing his hands next to your thighs. He pulls his upper body, drawing his face closer to you. It’s not the distance that makes you lean backwards, it’s your final attempt to hide your red and puffy eyes from the loneliness and weight that you’ve been carrying for years. But there he is: the love of your life so close to you that all you need is a few centimetres to claim his lips. Your hands find each other ones more, tightly shutting your eyelids. 

“No, please,” his voices out painfully and in desperation. Stray hair is tucked behind your ears and he hushes his wishes, “Look at me, please. Look at me with those eyes that I love the most.”

“You don’t have to take care of me anymore, Sunwoo. I know you said that you would make it up to me, but you really don’t. I understand why you did what you did, and I ge-”

“But you don’t understand how I feel about you. I know that because you haven’t read the last page. Please look at me, bubs.” Midway, your breath gets stuck in your throat when Sunwoo nudges the side of his nose against yours. “Please?” You give in to Sunwoo. Immediately, his eyes glimmer when he meets yours. “Why didn’t you tell me about your mum and my store?”

A crease forms between your eyebrows. “How’d you know about it? Did you…visit my house earlier?” Silence grows louder than noise as affirmation. “Then, you should know what’s best for you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He repeats. “You should’ve told me.”

“And then what?” You ask exasperately. “What would happen after, Sunwoo? Would you climb the fence and try to break in through my window? Catch me in your arms? Smile at me like the world hates us being together? It's not high school anymore! We're adults with responsibilities, and you wouldn't do th-”

“Yes, I would’ve,” he intently phrases. 

Sunwoo clenches his fist, knuckles pushing on wood. He could feel his heartbeat against his ears, thumping as erratically behind his chest. You scoff at his words, and it leaves his shoulders slumping. Yet, that’s all he needs to finally voice out the words that he associates with you.

“I would,” he tucks your strands once more, cradling your jawline and draws you in. He breathes just above nature, confessing his feelings, “because I love you. I've been in love with you for years.”

Sunwoo watches as your eyes widen, lips gaping apart all the same. Tears form, trickles and creeps. Your stuttering feeds on Sunwoo’s fear that he's lost you forever. But as each second passes, he wants you to know explicitly something he has been hiding for years on end. Now, with half-lidded eyes on your lips, Sunwoo patiently awaits for you.

“You're worth the world to me,” he interrupts. “The store won’t close if that’s what you’re worried about. Even if it does, then I can reopen somewhere else. I’m confident that I can protect everything that I love, including you.” The gift from his belt hoop is unhooked, and Sunwoo tilts the soft toy so that its smiling lips land on the corner of your lips. “Ddeonu is confident too.”

He slips his favourite gift into your hands, patting and directing his head kiss your hands. Sunwoo continues to keep you at the centre of his view, brushing your hair through his fingers and bopping your nose lovingly. As soon as you let out the softest laugh between your sniffles, Sunwoo responds with a similar sound that dissipates all your worries. When your head lifts to face him eye-to-eye, Sunwoo is the one who turns his head sideways. A deep shade of pink brushes across his cheekbones, and he traps his lips between the rows of his teeth. The redness only spreads throughout his face and neck when you press a peck on his cheek. 

Another one.

And another one.

Until he finally stands and lifts you off the bench with an arm under your knees and the other supporting your back. Along with your satisfying laughter, the pull you have by embracing your arms around his neck is what confirms to Sunwoo that this is reality. Still in his arms, Sunwoo takes a seat, sitting you on his lap. You bask under the remnants of the golden hour close to him. You rest your head on the crook of his neck.

"You're going to get hurt, Sunwoo,” clenching his shirt at the thought. “I don’t want that.”

"Life without you will hurt. I know that much.” You hum, drawing random shapes on his top. "What about you? What does a life without me mean for you?”

Your finger stops, gulping, “Nothing.”

Sunwoo caught a whiff of your shampoo when he craned his face to you. “Why?”

Plump lips kiss the tip of your nose, cheeks rising at the fleeting touch. “Because I love you. I love you so much that it drives me crazy, Sunwoo.” 

If you thought Sunwoo couldn’t get any redder than before, he did. His skin heats up, and your body feels the effect your words had on him. It leaves you chuckling instead, teasing him with kisses along his neck as he shivers under your touch. You’re caught up in your act that it caught you off guard when Sunwoo’s arm behind you suddenly pulls away. With the momentum and your surprise, the smirking boy takes this moment to respond to the love you’re showing him. 

Sunwoo claims your lips, eyelids closing to focus and savour the shape of your lips. He leads, pulling away slightly to dive back in. The boy pulls you back up, and you adjust to the pace he sets for you. He shudders and groans each time you pull away for air. Your breath is taken away by how the hand behind you wraps around your lower back, and the other guides your face to keep his lips locked with yours. It’s a little messy with occasional nose bumps, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Sunwoo either. Not with the way you intentionally place your hand over his heart, feeling his little heart jump at his affection with you.

When his lips aren’t busy on yours, he presses his lips to your face, whispering sweet nothings. “You’re so beautiful,” he admires before diving back in. “I can’t believe you’re finally mine.”

Kim Sunwoo had years of loving to make up for. He’s ready, but he needs to make sure you are.

"My beautiful girl, are you ready for the endless messages now?"

You fill his ears with an amused giggle, "As long as you send me a picture of yourself every day."

"You bet I will," sending another playful wink. "I'm sure you don't want to miss out on this handsome face." 

You roll your eyes playfully, Sunwoo feigning fake offense. The book beside him comes to his mind. 

He spares a glance at it before looking back at you. “Want to look through it?”

"Together?" He accepts your request with a kiss.

The sun sleeps for the rest of the night, the moonlight experiencing their love for the first time. It smiles beautifully to the laughter of the couple pointing at the funny pictures taken by the photographer himself. The ones that Eric and Millie took capture all the times that they might’ve been blind; or at least that is what the two believe whenever they see the now-couple together. Sunwoo screenshotted conversations between him and his two best friends reprimanding him about his behaviour towards you. Beside those screenshots, he wrote his reflection, spilling his heart in ink; some faded from his tears.

Before flipping to the long-awaited last page, Sunwoo had his hand over yours while you flipped it. In the end, you understand why Sunwoo is glad that you didn’t see it before he confesses. The three words being said are much powerful than the lettering. But something that words couldn’t convey is how there’s a space for a picture.

The outline is a rough sketch of the dimensions, and inside is written: If you accept my heart…? Hopefully…

The next thing to do is to clear. In selfie mode, you, Sunwoo and Ddeonu pose to the phone’s camera. Sunwoo can’t wait to tell his dad and everyone else whenever he looks back on this snapshot that this is his favourite photo out of all the snapshots of you and him. You too, would claim the say with the addition of the calming waves and the warmth of his body against yours.

Within his frame, both digitally and physically, together with him.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 the boyz masterlist 🤍 part of 'especially to you...'

join the taglist here » @deoboyznet @k-films @kflixnet @starlit-network @kstrucknet @blossomnet @haneul-and-clouds @sanaxo-o @littleroaes @sunlightwoo @dearly-somber @cuppasunu @cupidjyu @jaehunnyy

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | 11.5

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 0.8k

—chapter content/warnings: not much!! something a lil more tame lol, prob one of the 0.5s that takes place right after the chapter beforehand, i promise there is no ill intention behind what's happening here - they're both equally torn about everything as san's good friends/colleagues

namjoon: you got a minute to meet up today? sorry for the last minute request but it's kinda urgent.

jongho: sure. i'm wrapping up. can meet you in the next 15 mins?

namjoon: i'll come to you.

jongho: alright then, boss.

Jongho continues typing away at his desk, responding to all the emails that came in today while he was off doing interviews for the new open faculty role in the electrical engineering department. He makes a mental note to submit his review sheet for the first round of interviewees and to review the applications for the next round tomorrow. He doesn't realize how quick 15 minutes flies by until Namjoon is swinging his door open mid-email. He continues to type away, but his eyes shift to Namjoon's figure as he fixes his blazer and takes a seat with a loud sigh.

"Long day?" Jongho cracks a small smile, typing up the last few details before sending it off and shifting his attention to Namjoon in front of him.

"Kinda." He nods towards his computer. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt or delay you from leaving."

"All good. Didn't really have plans, anyway. What's up? You seem a little flustered."

"Well, catching Yunho, Iseul and San arguing in a conference room wasn't exactly on my agenda for today."

"What?" Jongho cocks his head back a bit in disbelief, brows tightly knitted together as he tries to make sense of what he just heard. San had been giving him a bit of the story here and there and knowing Iseul, he wasn't exactly surprised this is how things were playing out.

He's just not sure why Iseul thinks it's her business to air this all out.

"You tell me."

"As much as I would love to help, I honestly have no idea what's going on.”

"Jongho."

"What? You know how Iseul is. She somehow still thinks she has a grip on San even after they've divorced and gone through all of that. Can't stand her, if you ask me."

"You don't have to tell me twice. But, why? Why is this a thing right now?"

"Beats me." Jongho tries to brush it off even though he can see the look on Namjoon's face, his eyes trying to study him like a damn book. He hates being in the middle because as much as he loves and supports his bestfriend, he also has the utmost respect for Namjoon and knows the guy will always be on their side regardless.

"That's the first in a very long time that I've seen San react that way at the happy hour event."

"Okay, to be fair, the guy was getting super disrespectful. I think any of us would've reacted in one way or another."

"Right, I agree. But, I know there's a story behind it. I know his anger was fueled by something else." Jongho sees the way Namjoon is going about this. He's prying for the answers he already knows, but he needs the confirmation and Jongho can give him that. 

It's just a matter of when.

"What if it was just a bad day?"

"Okay, you know what?" Joon leans onto the arm rest of the chair and gives him a look. "I'm just gonna go headfirst with it." Jongho cocks a brow up. "Is there something going on with San and his rotation student? Y/N specifically." He sighs.

"I figured."

"No, you knew." Namjoon chuckles a bit.

"I don't know. I really can't tell you because I don't know anything." Jongho says he knows nothing when he knows everything.

"Jongho." Joon repeats.

"Joon, swear." He says, even though he tries to sit as still as possible. Good thing Namjoon can't read his mind right now.

It started gradually before it took off completely. Jongho knows about the last minute meetings San has had to take, Jongho has seen the subtle glances, the subtle actions, the mood changes when you're around. Jongho remembers seeing you slip out of his hotel room very early that morning during the NAS conference. Jongho remembers seeing the polaroid slightly tip out of the wallet case mid-breakfast and seeing a tiny slip of your face in his peripherals. San quickly adjusted the polaroid and continued on like nothing, wishing for the best with that one.

And he doesn't have to be told to know you've been over multiple times. All the calls that have gone curt and short, the distraction easily laced in San's voice on the other line. He remembers the faint trace of your perfume in his home, the little post-it notes you've left on San's office desk.

Good thing Namjoon can't read his mind right now.

Cause, yes.

"I can hear your thoughts."

Well, shit.

"I don't know what to say."

"I need you to tell me yes or no, that's all. I need to make sure I'm going about this correctly even though I heard a lot today alone." Jongho sighs and sees how torn Namjoon is. They both are. They obviously want what's best for San, and they both want him to be happy. He is deserving of good, genuine love. He is deserving of genuine happiness because he always rides for the people he loves, goes the extra mile for them. He acknowledges and learns from his mistakes, he apologizes when he knows he's at fault.

He's deserving of all good.

So, they both hate that it has to come to this because it's not even you that's the problem. It's the situation, and they both don't know how to approach it with enough sensitivity and care.

Even though it's good to San, it doesn't necessarily mean it could be good for San.

"Yes."

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme @wyrated

[javier-pena]

quicksand

Pairing: Harry Castillo x f!reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You meet a stranger at a party.

Warnings: smoking | drinking | creepy men | reader gets her butt slapped by a stranger | infidelity | cheating | age gap (reader is in her early to mid 20s, her boyfriend is in his 50s, I’m putting Pedro’s character in Materialists in his late 40s) | emotional neglect (boarding on emotional abuse) | reader has long-ish hair that can get wet without it being an issue | a little bit of self-loathing | possessiveness (the good kind and the bad kind | hands hands hands hands hands | oral (f receiving) | a little bit of praise kink | voyeurism | mirror sex | (unprotected) p in v sex | rough sex | multiple orgasms | overstimulation | a tiny tiny bit of degradation | oral fixation (🫣) | choking | dirty talk | creampie | cum eating

Notes: Last week I saw these behind the scenes shots of Pedro in Materialists and somehow I had to write 8,000 words about that? I'm also not quite sure what happened, it was supposed to be like 3k max. There was also this ask Han @swiftispunk received that I couldn't get out of my head. The title is inspired by Ms Swift's song Treacherous (And I'll do anything you say / If you say it with your hands / And I'd be smart to walk away / But you're quicksand), the rest is inspired by going completely feral whenever new pictures dropped. Tremendous thanks to Dani @alexturner who just beta'd a long-ass fic last week and then this fic this week - you're being way too good to me with indulging all thoughts I have that I have to turn into short stories 🫣 My dear, sweet anon who kept sending me encouraging asks, this is for you!!

***

There’s laughter coming from downstairs, deep, rumbling laughter impossible to ignore. Your whole body seems to shake with it, your heart stutters in your chest angrily, and you press your hands over your ears. But the loud voices are still there, mocking you with their indifference to your pain. You bury your face in your cool satin pillow and sob into it, ruining the expensive fabric. You don’t fucking care.

All your friends warned you this would happen and you hate how they were right. “You’re nothing but a toy to him.” Shut up, Marissa, you’re just jealous. “Maybe you should look for a boyfriend who’s closer to you in age.” Maybe you should look for a boyfriend, period. “You’re only a fuckmaid to him, do you realize that?” That was the point you stopped listening to them and, at the same time, it was the point you should have started listening.

You are nothing but a toy to him. You should have looked for someone closer to you in age. You are … no, you can’t bring yourself to even think the word, because the truth hurts too much. The truth and your blindness and your stupidity and the fact that you’re throwing your life away for a man who breaks every promise he makes and who treats you like a pet. A beautiful, expensive pet that can be ignored whenever it’s convenient.

“Come with me to the Keys,” he whispered into your ear, his breath hotter than his steadily cooling release sticking to your thighs.

“What?” you asked, heart clenching painfully. When was the last time he cared enough to make you come? Months ago?

“Come with me to the Keys,” he repeated. “The change of scenery will be good for us. I’ll show you around. We can go deep sea fishing. I’ll buy you some dresses and bathing suits. Just take my card tomorrow.”

He brushed your hair away from your neck, kissed the skin there, cupped one of your breasts, squeezed it hard. “Piers,” you warned, tried to get away from him. But there was nowhere to go.

The truth is you had been looking forward to his trip. Had been looking forward to having the apartment to yourself for a while. It’s not like you would’ve done anything in particular except just breathe for once.

“Don’t be like that,” he mumbled against your neck, squeezed your breast again. “Don’t you want to sip on a nice cocktail? Wear a risqué outfit for me?”

No, you didn’t want that. But if you didn’t say yes soon, he’d get angry. “Okay,” you gave in. “But you have to promise me that you’ll spend one day with me. No business.”

What’s easily promised is easily broken.

Today is supposed to be your day. And for once in your life, you thought it would be. Piers took you out for breakfast, right by the water. You watched the sunshine dance across the waves. Then he showed you around town, took you to his favorite spots in Key West, even held your hand. And you thought, This is it. I’m finally worthy of him. Then came the call, followed by those emails, and suddenly Piers was like, “Sorry, babe, I have to meet them, they’re important business partners. Why don’t you go to the beach club, buy yourself a nice massage? Here’s my card.”

Here's my card. You’ve never hated three words more.

What you didn’t expect was to come home to a party. At least twenty men were milling around the house Piers liked to refer to as his “Key West Residence”, a late 19th century villa. Twenty loud men, rich like Piers, most of them his age, leering at you as you stepped through the front door, mistaking you for tonight’s entertainment.

“Babe!” Piers boomed, spilling half his drink while opening his arms as if he meant to hug you. The glances didn’t stop. “Go upstairs, freshen up, put on something nice, and then let me show you off.”

You managed to complete the first step before breaking down on your bed. You’ve been sobbing ever since.

Something breaks downstairs and some of the men roar. You bury your face deeper against the pillow, terrified to go back downstairs, terrified to stay up here. Whatever you do, it will be the wrong thing. You close your eyes and think about what it would be like if the men downstairs vanished. If you had the house to yourself, sharing it with a person you loved and who loved you in return. You could be having dinner on the patio now. Before that, you might go for a swim in the pool, knowing the only eyes on you were your partner’s, the only glances you received were welcome.

You sit up straight. You might hate it when Piers’ business partners look at you like you’re a piece of meat, but Piers hates it too if they don’t do it without being invited. Twenty men imagining all the vile ways in which they could fuck you is the last thing you want right now, but it’s also the last thing Piers wants.

You stumble into the bathroom and wash your face with ice cold water, willing the puffiness of your eyes to recede. You put on your most expensive makeup, the kind that only comes off with intensive scrubbing, then you pick your most revealing bikini and put it on. If those men stared at you like that in a long sundress, their heads will probably explode if they see you like this.

Chin held high, beach towel thrown over your shoulder, you make your way downstairs on high heels the same shade of black as your bikini. You feel utterly stupid, like you’re giving them exactly what they want, but the flush that spreads across Piers’ cheeks when he sees you is worth it. There are some whistles, a few crude comments, one man slaps your ass, but you make it to the pool. None of them are brave enough to follow you outside.

The water is cool against your skin, doing its best to extinguish the fire that burns within you. The flames don’t die down completely but they’re certainly soothed. You start to swim, one length, then three, and soon the party resumes and the men pick up their conversations again. This almost feels normal; this almost feels like a life you could enjoy. Except that you’re alone. And not in a way you crave.

You stop swimming and start drifting on your back, watching the sky above turn from a gentle blue into a soft pink, a bright orange, a deep purple. Soon, the sun will go down and the party will pick up speed. You should go, put on a dress, let Piers show you off, vanish before they’ve had too much alcohol.

You climb out of the pool, squeeze water out of your hair, wrap the towel around yourself. No one is paying attention to you now, so you pick up your heels to carry them back upstairs. There’s no way you’ll make it back to your room without one or two unwanted glances, without the odd rude comment, but you can live with that. You step onto the patio, eyes firmly fixed on your destination, then start walking through the gathering, careful not to look at anyone, careful not to be seen.

Someone sees you though. It’s not Piers, and it also isn’t one of the men who look at you and lick their lips. It’s someone watching you from the shadows, someone on one of the chairs in the parlor. Keep your eyes on the stairs, you tell yourself. Nothing good can come from this. While you were in the pool, Piers must have turned on the music, old jazz songs he always plays when he wants to appear sophisticated. The tinny sounds of saxophones make your ears ring, irritating you more than the heavy smell of cigar smoke that seems to be seeping into every corner of the house. You feel horrible between all those men dressed in their suits, even with the towel covering most of your skin. And you wish that one man would stop watching you because it makes you feel hunted, makes your body beg to run and hide.

At the foot of the stairs you pause, your heart in your throat. A man brushes past you, pretending like there is only so little room he has to press his palm against the small of your back. You turn around looking for Piers, ready to pretend you have a horrific migraine and won’t be joining him after all, when your eyes land on the man who is making the hair at the back of your neck stand with his unrelenting gaze.

You can’t see him properly because he’s half hidden behind the door to the parlor, a room that’s devoid of proper lighting and full of cigar smoke. But you see his dark eyes on you, feel them look right through you, see you for who you are, while he laughs at something the man next to him is saying. You crane your neck to get a better look at him but two other men walk past, obscuring your view. When they spot you and start to make their way toward you, you bolt up the stairs. At least no one will dare to follow you up here.

*******

“There she is!” Piers announces later, opening his arms wide again. He doesn’t spill his drink this time. You step into his embrace and let him kiss your cheek. “Took you long enough, doll.” You hate it when he calls you that, but you keep on smiling. Then he leans closer and whispers, “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll make sure you’ll regret it. Letting another man touch you! What’s wrong with you?”

So it did bother him after all. It should make you feel proud, but it only makes you feel empty. “I’m sorry,” you whisper back and kiss him. Someone at the back of the room whistles.

“Just try to behave for the rest of the night,” he says coldly, then smiles at you and asks in his loud business voice, “Isn’t she lovely?”

Some of the men nod but none dare to look at you directly. Not when Piers has his arm slung around your shoulder anyway.

“How about a drink?” he asks you and when you nod, he takes your hand and leads you toward the bar at the back of the parlor. You follow him, shivering slightly from the evening breeze blowing in through the open French doors. The smoke in the room makes your eyes sting.

With practiced ease, Piers fills a sparkling glass with vodka and soda, adding a bit of lime juice. You try to ignore the man who is standing a little bit too close to you, whose eyes hang a little bit too low.

“Here you are.” Piers hands you the glass. “I have something to discuss with those gentlemen over there,” he nods at two men standing by the door to his study, “but I shouldn’t be too long. Try not to cause too much of a scene while I’m gone.”

You close your fingers around the glass and nod. All you want to do is run.

As soon as he’s gone, they start to close in on you. It’s what Piers wants. He wants others to desire what belongs to him – his apartment, his car, his life. You’re part of all of that. He wants these men to desire you, to think they can have you. You should have listened to your friends, to Marissa and Annie and all the others. If you had, you might hate yourself less.

You know they all want to talk to you and they won’t take no for an answer, so you start to make your way toward the open French doors to escape into the garden. If you stand right at the edge, you can hear the waves whisper and feel the ocean breeze on your face. And if you keep still long enough, they might forget about you.

You don’t even make it out the door before your eyes start to wander from the lush green bushes and trees outside and land on a man sitting in a leather armchair close to the open doors. You don’t know if it’s the same one whose gaze you felt on you earlier, but there’s something about him that makes it hard for you to look away. He’s in the middle of a conversation, one leg comfortably slung across the other, ankle resting against thigh. One of his hands is spread on his knee, his fingers stroking and tapping the expensive fabric of his back dress pants in a nervous tick. His other hand is wrapped around a glass full of amber liquid that he takes a swig from right as you walk past, pretending not to notice how the muscles in his neck work as he swallows, pretending not to notice the gold ring on his little finger that clinks against the glass as he lowers it again.

Your own drink untouched, you stand on the patio, off to the side where you hope no one will notice you but where you can look at that stranger from time to time. You don’t think you’ve seen him before, but you don’t usually pay a lot of attention to Piers’ associates. None of the men here this evening look familiar. Still, there is something about the way this man runs his fingers through his dark curls from time to time, the way he tries to smooth the wrinkles in his white shirt, the way he takes a drag from a big, dark brown cigar once in a while that makes it impossible for you to look away. Until another man demands your attention.

“Hi there,” he says, his laugh showing off perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. “I’m Hutton.”

You think about saying, “And I’m not interested,” but to Piers that would probably count as causing a scene. And Hutton looks like he’s one of the younger men here, probably in his late 30s. There are worse guys to talk to. “Hi,” you reply with a sweet smile.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” He steps closer to you, encouraged by your smile.

“Yes,” you reply. “So how do you know Piers?”

If he’s annoyed by you bringing up your boyfriend right away, he doesn’t let it show. “We work together,” he answers, which could mean anything in Piers’s world.

“And what brings you to Key West?”

“The scenery,” Hutton answers, not even trying to hide his hungry gaze that glides over your naked shoulders and cleavage.

“I thought it was business,” you say, your smile faltering slightly. “Seeing you’re here.”

“I try not to mix business with pleasure.” Hutton leans against the small sliver of wall between the French doors and the corner of the house. “It’s neither good for business nor pleasure.”

You hum, trying to take a step back. You’re already at the edge of the patio though, and you almost stumble off it, losing your footing.

Hutton grabs your arm and pulls you toward him. “Careful there, pretty girl.”

You try to pull your arm back but he won’t let go. “Thank you,” you say at the same time as he says, “Have you ever thought about exchanging Piers for a younger model?”

It didn’t take him more than a few words exchanged to get to the point.

You yank your arm free but he grabs it again. “Stop it,” you command in your strictest voice but he only grins at you.

“Don’t be like this. I’m only fooling around.”

“Then let go of me.” He doesn’t.

You’re about to throw your drink in his face, even if it means Piers will be angry with you again, when someone steps out onto the patio.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

He’s standing right there, one hand in the pocket of his dark pants, the other holding his cigar. Shame washes over you and your palms grow sweaty. You really don’t need this right now. But Hutton immediately lets go of you and turns to face the newcomer.

“We’re good here, thanks,” he says, his jaw clenched.

The stranger takes his time to take a drag on his cigar, lets out the smoke while looking up at the now deep purple evening sky. “It’s a lovely evening, isn’t it?” he asks and Hutton lets out a sigh.

“Are you just going to keep standing there?” he asks.

The stranger shrugs.

You glance into the parlor, at all the men milling about, wondering if you could make your escape without anyone noticing. But there is something in the way the stranger holds himself that makes you want to stay and find out how this ends. Piers, by now, would have rushed past Hutton, a snarl on his lips, his anger directed at you. The stranger just stands there, his shoulders relaxed, acting as if he doesn’t even particularly care that you and Hutton are out here on the patio as well. It’s a different kind of threat … a different kind of protectiveness.

Hutton turns to you. “Are you coming?”

You shake your head and with a roll of his eyes and an annoyed, “Whatever,” he vanishes into the house, leaving you alone with him.

The silence unbearable, you say, “Thank you.”

He takes another drag on his cigar, then comes closer to you. You ignore how your heart flutters at his approach. He reaches for your hand and for a wild moment you think he’s going to grab your arm too, but he only takes the drink from your hand, sniffs the contents of the glass, then dumps it over the edge of the patio. “Let’s get you a proper drink,” he says.

You’re too stunned to do much more than follow him back into the house and toward the bar. Around you, the volume has risen since you stepped out onto the patio, but you don’t care as much as you did before. It’s hard to care about anything when your stomach is in a tight knot and when you feel like the world around you has gone completely quiet.

The man steps behind the bar, gently places his cigar in an ashtray, then regards the collection of bottles before him with his hands on his hips. “You don’t look like a vodka girl to me,” he mumbles, and you feel your face grow hot. You don’t know why. “Here.” He pulls out a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of vermouth. You only now notice how big his hands are, and your mind immediately starts to replay the evening. His hand on his knee, his hand around his glass, his hand … You shake your head, but the shiny gold ring on his little finger glitters enticingly as he unscrews the bottle of vermouth to smell the alcohol within. It’s like you’re a magpie, enchanted by everything that glitters.

“Sweet enough,” he concludes, pouring a little vermouth and a lot of whiskey into a martini glass. Then he goes through all the bottles once more until he finds one of lavender bitter and adds it to the mix.

“What is that?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “I’m not done yet.” There’s a small jar of cocktail cherries he unscrews. With skilled movements, he skewers two of them onto a silver cocktail stick before handing you the glass. The mix inside is orange on top, a reddish purple deeper below. It looks like the sunset you watched earlier.

“What is it?” you ask again.

“Taste it,” he tells you, an eager glint in his eyes.

You take a careful sip and widen your eyes in surprise at the strong yet sweet taste. “Oh, this is really good!”

“It’s sweet, like you,” he says, then seems to change his mind, adopting a matter-of-fact tone of voice. “It’s a Manhattan. That’s where you belong, not in this tourist trash kind of town.”

That makes you laugh. “Hey, I like it here.”

The bar is still between you but he leans on it to get closer to you. “I bet you would also like Manhattan if I showed you around.”

“I’m from Manhattan,” you tell him. “I live there, actually.”

“I do too,” he responds. “Funny how we should run into each other here, of all places.”

You inhale shakily. You don’t know why. “If you hate it here so much, what are you doing here?”

He smiles at you, and you’re sure your heart stops. “I heard you talk to that other guy. I’m not here to have a conversation like that with you.”

You take another sip from your cocktail even though it makes your head spin. “What are you here for then?”

“That’s just another way of asking me what I’m doing here, angel eyes,” he points out. He does it so smoothly you almost don’t notice the diminutive.

You straighten your back, only now realizing you were leaning on the bar close to him. He mirrors you, then walks around the wood between you so he can stand directly next to you. “You tell me what you want to talk about then. After all, you approached me, you made me a drink, you wanted to whisk me off to Manhattan.”

“That was before I realized how worldly you are,” he says and his smile turns sly.

“Oh?” you make. You swallow. “Am I too difficult for you then?”

“I like a challenge.”

This is where you should stop. This is where you should thank him again for rescuing you, and for the drink, and where you should walk away to find your boyfriend, who surely has to be done with his meeting by now. But how can you step away when he’s still smiling at you as if he’s having the time of his life, when you felt drawn to him all evening, when having his eyes on you makes you feel truly seen? Yes, he isn’t exactly subtle in the way he flirts with you, but there is a kindness in his gaze you’ve never seen on another man before. And then he touches you, straightening the strap of your short, tight dress, and your whole body comes alive.

“You know smoking is bad for you, right?” is the only thing you can come up with, willing your voice to remain steady.

“I like things that are bad for me,” he replies.

It’s such a cheesy line, it makes you want to bury your face in your hands. But, god, does talking to him make you feel good.

“Ha!” He points at you. “That’s the first genuine smile I’ve seen all evening.

“Call me ‘sweet’ again and you might see some more,” you retort. All you want to do is to tell him you don’t mind his harmless flirting, that whatever this is between you is fun, but it comes out heavy with implications. Implications you can’t take back because you don’t want to.

He brushes your hair behind your ear and you think you might die. “You’re very brave.” It’s a statement. “I saw you walk to the pool earlier in –”

“I know,” you interrupt him. “I saw you watching me.”

He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. “It made me want to kiss you.”

You freeze. There is nothing you can say that won’t end badly for you. “So you made me a drink instead?”

He plucks the cocktail stick out of your glass and holds it up to your mouth. You close your lips around the first cocktail cherry and pull it off slowly, your eyes fixed to his. It might just be the low lighting but you think his pupils dilate. He drops the stick back into the glass and takes a big swig of your drink, his eyes momentarily leaving yours. You do your best not to watch his throat as he swallows.

“You really are something,” he concludes, putting down the glass on the bar.

You feel lightheaded, as if you’d just made out with him for half an hour. “I’m also in a relationship.” The words are out before you can stop yourself. You didn’t mean to say them.

“I don’t give a damn.”

You giggle, actually giggle, like a schoolgirl with a crush. “You sound like the hero in one of those ancient black-and-white movies.”

“Or maybe I’m the villain.”

This time you do bury your face in your hands. “Oh, stop it.”

“No,” he simply says, and you get it. You want to kiss him too.

Instead, you glance at the small gold wrist watch on your arm. “It’s late. I should –”

He interrupts you. “Don’t –,” but you don’t let him finish.

“Thank you for the drink. And thank you for making me laugh. You made this whole thing bearable.”

You don’t know if you should shake his hand or kiss his cheek so you don’t do any of it. You pat his arm, once, trying not to notice how it feels against your palm, then walk toward the stairs, your heart breaking with each step. If you were single, you wouldn’t have hesitated to sleep with this man. If you weren’t Piers’ girlfriend, he would never have looked your way. It’s better to end it here.

The quietness of your room engulfs you, just like the soothing coolness of the pool earlier. As soon as you close the door behind you and lean against it, you can breathe. Yes, you can still hear the sounds of the party, but they’re muffled. You can finally hear yourself think again and you exhale shakily. You almost made the biggest mistake of your life. The adrenaline rush you got from it makes you snicker.

Piers isn’t entirely faithful. He attends parties with strippers, he looks at other women, you know all that. But it doesn’t mean anything because at the end of the day he comes home to you. What you just did … it goes beyond everything Piers has ever done, and you wouldn’t have been able to look at yourself in the mirror if you had spent one more minute in the presence of that handsome stranger. Even if your flirting made you happier than Piers has in months.

There’s a knock at your door and you jump. Expecting Piers, you open it without a second thought. “I’ll be right …,” you start but forget every word in the English language when you come face to face with the stranger.

“Hello,” he says, and that handsome smile is back on his face, even if he keeps a careful distance. “You vanished so quickly it made me wonder … did I do something wrong?”

“What?” you ask because it’s the only word you can remember.

“I’ll go back downstairs if you don’t want me here,” he goes on, “just say the word.”

They never come up the stairs. Never. Who does he think he is? “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just tired.” You try to close the door in his face, but he steps closer, bracing a hand against the wooden doorframe. “Excuse me,” you say insistently.

“Can I come in?”

Into your room? “Oh, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” you reject him. You laugh, but it sounds insincere. “You should go back downstairs.”

“Alright,” he agrees, “but you have to say it like you mean it.”

“Listen here,” you start in your best no-nonsense voice. He tightens his grip on the wood and you hear it creak, despite the noise downstairs. “I want you to …”

It’s no use. You don’t know who he is, you don’t even know his name, but you also know that if you don’t let yourself have this, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.

“You need to say the words, sweet –”

“I want you to kiss me.”

You both freeze. His mouth hangs open, still in the middle of forming the next word he wanted to say. You tense, well aware that you said something you can not take back.

The few seconds that pass feel like an eternity. Then he pushes himself past the doorframe into your room, into your personal space. You smell the heavy scent of cigar smoke on him, you smell leather and lavender and citrus. You see his smile that turns into something more determined the closer he gets to you. You notice the stubble on his cheek, the glint in his eyes, the small dark spot on the collar of his white shirt. You feel … you feel his body pressing against yours, his hand pressing against the small of your back, his breath on your face, and then everything is reduced to his lips on yours, your breaths mingling, his … his tongue coaxing you open, not gently but insistent, and you not hesitating to open yourself up for him.

It's as if you’re watching it all from above, you pushing him backward, him closing the door with a hard slam, the both of you pulling at each other while kissing and kissing and …

“Careful,” he chuckles when you bite down on his bottom lip. “You said kiss, not –”

“I don’t give a fuck what I said,” you interrupt him, pulling his shirt out of his pants.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says and grabs your wrist.

You groan. “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”

He pulls you in for another kiss. “I’m not. You’re just … We’re doing this on my terms or not at all.”

Something throbs deep within your core.

He tightens his hold on you. “I’ve had all evening to think about this. To picture all the things I want to do to you.”

“It’s not going to be just kissing then?” you ask, relishing the chuckle you draw out of him.

“I knew I wouldn’t leave here tonight without feeling your pretty little cunt clench around me.”

It sounds like a line straight out of a porn movie. You should laugh, tell him to take you seriously. But all you can do is whimper at the thought of him sitting in his chair downstairs, talking to one of Piers’ associates or even Piers himself while thinking about being buried deep inside of you. Every other man would send you fleeing. Not him though.

“Who are you?” you whisper.

“Does it matter? Once I’m done with you, you’ll have forgotten your own name.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. “Those are some big words,” you point out.

He lets go of your wrist, then bunches the fabric of your dress up in his hand until he can reach below the hem, his broad, warm hand landing on your naked skin, his ring digging into your soft flesh. You gasp.

“Do you really think I’d disappoint you?”

“No,” you say too quickly, too rashly.

He grabs your dress again. “How about you take this off for me?”

“No,” you repeat, biting the inside of your cheek so you don’t laugh at the look of shock on his face. Then you turn around. “I can’t really open the zipper without some assistance.”

He runs both his hands over your naked shoulders and down to the middle of your back. You expect him to take his time, but he yanks the zipper down so quickly you think you hear fabric tear. You almost don’t have enough time to slip out of the thin shoulder straps before he falls to his knees behind you, pulling the dress with him. His hands are on your butt cheeks now, massaging, grabbing you as if he’s set on memorizing every detail. He slips his thumb under the hem of your panties, dips the tip into the wetness there.

You gasp at the same time as he whispers, “Knew it.”

You pull him away from you and turn around, well aware you’re completely naked except for your panties. “Well, it’s hardly surprising,” you start, your voice airy, but then it dies down completely at the sight of him kneeling in front of you looking up at you with so much heat in his gaze you’re getting burned. How did you get here?

You want him to tease you back, but he only pulls you close, his hands clasping your hips insistently, and kisses your belly, right above the hem of your panties. Then he kisses your thighs and your sides, and your belly button, and then he pulls down your panties and buries his face in your wetness with a relieved sigh. Your hands shoot forward and grab his curls, dig into them, desperate for purchase, as your head swims from the overstimulation. You would like to focus on the feeling of his hair between your fingers. You would like to focus on his tongue swirling around your clit. You would like to focus on the growl he makes when you run your nails over his scalp.

You think you’re laughing. You think you say, “Does that still count as kissing?”

“Yes,” he mumbles against the soft skin of your thighs. His curls are already a mess, his face is flushed, but when he glances up at you, his eyes are bright with determination.

“I think you have to show me that definition of kissing someday,” you go on, glancing up at the ceiling. You can’t look at him directly, it feels too intimate.

“That’s enough talking,” he decides and licks a broad stripe across your drenched folds.

You tighten your grip on his curls in response because your legs start to quiver. You hope he doesn’t notice, but his fingers dig into your thighs to steady you. The edges of his ring are cutting into you almost painfully – you want more of it. His hair wrapped around your fingers you pull him closer into you and he moans against you … actually moans. You push away those thoughts that make you compare him to Piers, how Piers would never moan if he was between your legs, how Piers never eats you out. This isn’t about him – it’s about you.

There’s something in the way that stranger rolls and flicks his tongue that tells you he won’t make you wait for an orgasm. You want to hold on longer because you can’t bear the thought of this being over already, but there is something in the way he devours you that pushes you toward the edge at a rapid speed. You don’t even hear the sounds of the party anymore, the laughter, the music; it’s just him and his deep sighs and moans.

You’re almost embarrassed by how fast you come. One second you’re appreciating the way his tongue flicks your clit, the next you can barely stay upright when your whole body releases months and months of built-up tension. You quiver in his grip and he holds you close, licking and licking until you can’t take it anymore. You think you mumble, “Fuckfuckfuck,” but there is no way to be sure. All you know is that you just had one of the best orgasms of your life.

You laugh as if the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders. What else is there to do? “So this is doing things on your terms?” you ask.

He sits back on his heels and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. You think you might explode at that sight. “No, that was for your benefit. The rest is going to be for mine.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you glance over your shoulder at your bed that’s rumpled from you crying on it earlier. If he can make you feel like that with just his tongue, what will he be –

“No, sugar, not like that,” he tells you, immediately pulling your attention back to him.

Your throat is dry when you ask, “What then?”

He stands and cups your cheek, his hand pleasantly warm. You lean into the touch immediately. “Don’t be so impatient. Enjoy the moment for a while.”

“What moment …?” you start but you don’t get far. He claims your mouth in a searing kiss that makes you wish you had been paying more attention to what he was doing when he was eating you out. You kiss him back, slinging your arms around his neck, the soft fabric of his white shirt rubbing against your naked chest. He licks across your bottom lip until you open your mouth for him, and then he claims you like no one has before. You fear that if you start thinking about how you can taste yourself on him, you’ll go insane.

“You’re so easy to kiss,” he mumbles against your lips. You’re not quite sure how he means it, but your chest still expands at the compliment.

“And you’re very handsome,” you retort lamely.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about telling me all evening?”

“No,” you reply too slowly this time.

He kisses your temple, then brings his mouth right next to your ear. “I’ve been thinking about watching myself fuck you.”

He doesn’t give you time to process, takes you over to the vanity that stands opposite your bed, its mirror dull in the dim light of the room. Even when he places your hands on the table top, telling you to hold on, you still don’t think he’s serious. You look at yourself in the mirror, at the makeup smudges below your eyes, the birth mark on your throat that you hate, how your mouth hangs open in a way that looks so very unsexy. Behind you, that stranger you invited into your room, this man you know nothing about, is unbuttoning his expensive dress pants, his white shirt obscuring the view. What does he see in you that makes him want you like this?

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut.

He’s holding himself now, but you can’t see his hand moving without turning around. And he didn’t tell you you’re allowed to look. Your palms begin to sweat against the wooden surface of the vanity, at the thought of him telling you what you are and aren’t allowed to do, at him praising you for doing well and punishing you if you don’t. You don’t recognize that side of yourself.

His eyes are open again and he searches for yours in the mirror. “I asked you a question.”

You swallow hard. “No, I don’t,” you say, fighting down a giggle. It’s nerves.

“I’d better show you then,” he concludes, and he pushes inside of you with one hard stroke, filling you faster than you can spread your legs.

You both take a moment to breathe. He adjusts himself, you try to get used to the angle, the feeling of fullness. You haven’t seen his hard cock, but you know he’s more than Piers, so much more the stretch is almost uncomfortable. The wood beneath your fingers starts to swim when your vision blurs and –

“No, none of that.” He grips your chin and lifts your head, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. “I’ve also been thinking about you watching me fuck you.”

His hand looks so big holding your face like that, and when you swallow again, he can feel it against his fingers.

His own face is right there next to yours, his eyes firmly fixed to yours through the glass. “You’re a big girl. I’m sure you can take it.”

Before you can think of anything to say, he pulls out of you and thrusts back in in a tentative motion that is enough for your eyes to flutter shut in pleasure.

“No, no, no,” he whispers into your ear. “Keep them open.”

You do as you’re told and he rewards you with a sharp bite to the spot where your neck meets your shoulders. Your hips thrust back of their own accord, meeting his in a quick snap.

“You make such pretty sounds,” he mumbles against your skin.

You hadn’t even realized you were making any, too transfixed by watching him move behind you. Whenever your gaze wavers and flutters to your own face, embarrassment sends adrenaline shooting through your body. But he … watching his shoulders and arms tense and relax beneath his shirt that looks all too tight now, watching him meet your gaze, eyes full of lust … you don’t know why you would fuck anyone any other way than this.

He straightens his back, changing the angle slightly, and now you do hear yourself groan. He grabs your chin tighter and pushes two fingers into your mouth. “You know,” he says, and his hips snap with more force, faster, making the vanity rattle beneath your hands, “if you were mine, I’d let no man touch you. I would’ve broken his arm.”

It takes you a few seconds to figure out what he means; you’re too busy relishing the taste of his skin on your tongue. There must have been a man who touched you … when you were coming down the stairs … You can see it all clearly now. He would grab that man’s arm, calm and collected, twist it, make him shout in surprise … you can almost hear the bones snap.

“Oh, look at that,” he groans, and you do. You look at yourself in the mirror, unashamed, eyes wide. You watch how you eagerly suck and lick his fingers, watch it as if another person was doing it. You’re trembling in his grip … or is he making everything shake with his thrusts that are coming faster and faster now as he fucks you, taking what he needs? “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You almost don’t hear him, too transfixed by how depraved he’s making you feel. “You’d get off on that, a good man protecting you. Shame I’m not good, really.”

You don’t care. You’re done with those men who act politely, who treat you with care when they know Piers is around, but who talk about you taking it up the ass when your back is turned. You’d much rather have this, a man who isn’t scared to say these things to your face. Even if he thinks he isn’t all good, he still protected you.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and you whimper at the loss, watching how a thread of spit connecting his digits to your lips breaks. With his other hand, he suddenly grabs one of your breasts, squeezing your hard nipple with practiced ease, and you arch your back with a moan, exposing your throat to him. His fingers close around it, hard, restricting the airflow, his ring pressing against one of the most vulnerable spots of your body in a way that doesn’t leave any room for doubt – you’re doing this on his terms.

He tightens his grip on your throat until you start seeing stars, the loosens it. “I’m going to make you come now. I want you to watch yourself. I want you to see what you look like coming around my cock.”

If you could, you would nod, but he isn’t looking for your consent. He rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger one last time, then lowers his hand to find your clit. When he touches you, you make a sound like never before, one that’s feral and animalistic and can’t possibly be coming from you.

He shushes you, his breath tickling your neck. “You don’t want anyone to hear us.”

You don’t? You have no idea. You can’t form a single coherent thought as he pounds into you, making sure you’ll be able to feel him long after he’s done with you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Your voice is breathless after that scream, hoarse and raw. Your gaze flickers to his fingers curled tightly around your neck.

“Keep your eyes on yourself, baby girl,” he orders.

Baby girl.

That’s what does it. You watch your eyes widen and your mouth fall open as your body shakes first from his thrusts and then from wave after wave of pleasure. He was right. You love this. You love watching yourself come while he forces you to watch yourself, love to watch your orgasm play out across your face. He’s watching you too, licking his lips hungrily, never faltering. But you can see it in his eyes, the way he’s memorizing every detail of your orgasm.

“Well done,” he says once you’re done and moves your chin so he can kiss your lips.

Then he suddenly pushes you down so your chest connects with the table top. You grunt in surprise, then in pain when he rolls your head to the side so you can still somewhat glimpse his reflection above you.

“My turn,” he growls.

His teeth are digging into his bottom lip, his eyes are firmly fixed on his own reflection, and he holds you down with such a strong grip you can’t move, but also in a way that’s so casual it makes you feel like he’s using you. Your heart stutters with longing so intense at that thought that the feeling spreads to the rest of your body and becomes so intense he feels it in his own. At least you think that is what’s going on when he smiles down on you.

The position you’re in and the tenderness between your legs steadily turns from pleasurable to uncomfortable to simply too much. But he doesn’t finish. He keeps going and going, not as fast as before, seemingly transfixed by what you’re doing. You reach back for him and he grabs your wrist and pins it to the small of your back.

“Please,” you whimper, and it makes his intense gaze falter for just one second.

“Almost there, baby girl,” he replies, “you’re doing so well. Just keep taking it a little while longer.” You think you could bear anything if he just kept talking to you like that.

Then suddenly it’s over. There is one last thrust that pushes you onto the tips of your toes and then he stills. The only movement comes from his hips that are twitching as he empties himself inside of you. You don’t even dare to breathe, watching as his reflection slowly relaxes and he closes his eyes for a few seconds, trying to catch his breath.

Finally, he pulls out of you and you try to stand, but he pushes you back down again. “Stay. We’re not done yet.”

Your legs tremble in anticipation, but your mind is blank, unable to imagine what else he could have in store for you. You don’t feel anything at first, you just hear him moan, and then you realize he’s kneeling behind you, cleaning you up with his tongue, eagerly licking his own release off your skin. It makes you feel so lewd you forget about everything, even Piers. Especially when he doesn’t stop at your thighs but moves further and further up your legs until his tongue and nose are buried in your folds once more and he’s spreading you open with his big hands.

You can’t help it.

“Fuck, fu- I- I’m gonna –”

There’s no time for you to finish the warning before you’re coming a third time, your hips desperately twitching against the vanity. He licks you through it, catching every last drop you’re giving him on his tongue. You can’t tell for sure but you think he’s chuckling and for some reason the shame you feel turns you on even more.

When it’s all over, he peels you off the vanity and pulls you into his arms, brushing your hair out of your face that is sticky with sweat. “You sure are a greedy little thing,” he says before he kisses you tenderly.

You swallow a sob and give him a sigh instead.

“Half the people downstairs probably heard us.” There’s a big grin on his face at that thought.

“I don’t give a fuck,” you repeat your earlier sentiment, surprised to discover that it’s true.

“Someone wants to get caught,” he teases and kisses you again.

“What I want is for you to fuck me like that again.”

“Oh, baby girl.” You almost hate how he’s already figured out what hearing him call you that does to you. “There are a million more things I want to do with you. This was just a taste.”

You’re not sure if you can believe him, but you decide to indulge that fantasy. You put on your sweetest smile. “Can’t wait.”

He lets go of you and walks toward your door. “Why don’t you give me a call once you’re back in Manhattan.”

A red warning light switches on somewhere in your brain. “But I don’t even know your name.”

“Something tells me you’ll find out.” And with that, he’s gone.

[roosterforme]

Smarter Than the Average Beer Boy | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: After months of attending your lectures, Bradley has honed his math skills beyond his wildest expectations. A night out with the boys reveals just how smart and endearing your husband really is, even when he has a hangover.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, drinking, oral sex, shirtless Beer Boy, 18+

Length: 3100 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

Happy birthday to @cherrycola27!

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Banner by @thedroneranger Check out my masterlist

You were on your way to teach your last class of the day, and it was your least favorite one. When the class schedules were being organized for next semester, you planned on begging Dr. Rosenthal to let you trade this awful linear algebra class away for one of his calculus lectures. Because at least calculus was something to which you could add a little spice to keep your students interested, unlike this one.

Even though you already ate the snack your husband packed in your tie dye lunchbox, you were still hungry. You'd have to remind him to pack you something extra next Thursday. But as you were on your way to the lounge to quickly get something from the vending machine, you heard his voice. 

"Sugar."

You spun around in your loafers and tweed skirt and saw your husband in full khaki uniform heading your way. "Beer Boy. What are you doing here?" you asked, giving up on the idea of a snack and heading in his direction instead. "I'm about to give a lecture."

"I know," he said with a smirk, voice all deep and raspy. "I got dismissed early, and I stopped at home to get you a snack. Thought maybe I could join your lecture tonight since I won't get to spend tomorrow evening with you."

You almost dropped your notebook as you wrapped your arms around his waist and propped your chin on his chest. "Are you my snack?" you asked as he leaned down to kiss you.

"Nor exactly," he laughed, holding up two small containers. "I brought you some homemade hummus and pita chips. But if you want to skip your lecture and head up to your office, I'd be more than happy to fuck you while I feed you."

"Tempting," you told him with a moan. He was always so sure of himself when he was with you, and it was a massive turn on. But when he grinned and started pulling you toward the elevators, you had to dig your loafers in. "I can't let my students down," you said with a little pout. "Come on. You can sit in the back and take notes."

"Nah. I'll just watch my hot wife in action. Take some mental notes that I can think about at the bachelor party tomorrow night."

You rolled your eyes as you took the containers from him. "You'll have so much fun with Jake and the boys, you won't even be thinking about me at all."

"Newsflash, Dr. Sugar," he whispered as you entered the lecture hall with his hand on your butt. "I'm always thinking about you."

-----------------------

Yes, it was fun watching you work. Your lectures were informative, and you were very passionate about the subject. You were also gorgeous, and Bradley wouldn't mind watching you do this all day long. And sure, he loved that you wrote a few problems on the board for your students to work through so you could eat the hummus and pita chips he brought. And yeah, he squirmed a bit in his seat when you winked at him from the podium as you licked your fingertip. 

But the really interesting thing was the fact that Bradley was getting pretty fucking good at math now. If he could go back to undergrad studies, he might even choose it as his major instead of political science. Nobody ever really encouraged him to show off his smarts after his mom died. Well, besides you. There was something about the way you always recognized that he was intelligent that made him fall even harder for you. And since he knew what it felt like to live without you for ten years, he didn't mind watching you teach the same classes over and over. He just wanted to be around you.

When you asked if there were any volunteers to work through the problem, Bradley was able to follow every detail and come up with the correct answer from his seat. And when you finally ended the class, he went up to the front of the room and kissed your cheek right in front of the straggling students. "Any chance you can bring one of the homework sheets home for me to work on later this weekend?" he asked, stealing your last pita chip.

You looked up at him with adoring eyes, and it wasn't fair, because you knew what those little tweed skirts did to him. "You're really going to work on a problem set?" 

"Yeah," he told you with a shrug. "Why not? This class was fun, and maybe you can check my answers and reward me?" he asked hopefully. 

"If you want to be my top student, you better get them all correct." You ran your fingers along the front of his khakis as you picked up your notebook and started walking away.

"I'll be so good, Baby," he promised as he followed you out. He was planning on working on the problems on Sunday after he spent all day Saturday recovering from Jake's bachelor party. Tomorrow night was for the boys, but tonight he would be spending with you. 

When he got you home, he boiled a pot of water for some of the homemade pasta he made and dried last weekend, and he started heating up some of his homemade sauce and meatballs. "This is so fucking sexy," you whispered, rubbing up on him in your tweed while you sipped a beer. "You are really good at feeding me."

He stole the bottle and drank some. "You're really good at everything else." When he tried to hand it back, you just shook your head and dropped slowly to your knees. He was already a little hard from all the tweed rubbing, but then you kissed his zipper, and his dick responded immediately. "Look at that. I didn't even have to do the math problems."

You grinned up at him while he sipped the beer. "Maybe this is just a little reminder for you to be good tomorrow night when you're out with the boys. No drinking and driving. No letting them get into fights. No playing beer pong without me. If you're good, then there's more where this came from."

Bradley was really enjoying the cold beer as you undid his belt and button before you eased his zipper down. "I'll be so good. I'm a hundred percent domesticated."

You moaned as his cock sprang free, and you rubbed your face against him. "I know." He was about to tell you he'd been that way since the two of you were college seniors, but suddenly all coherent thoughts left his brain. You were gently kissing his balls as you ran your fingers up underneath his shirt and teased his abs. "You're a very good boy."

His cock was throbbing and tapping you on the cheek as your tongue flicked out to taste him. "Sugar," he grunted before sipping the beer again. 

"Hmm." You were looking up at him as your lips barely met his skin. "What should I do with you?" Somehow you were making Bradley feel submissive even though you were on your knees for him, and he tipped his head back and groaned.

"Fuck me up, Sugar."

"Gladly," you replied, and he felt your tongue draw a slow and steady line from his tight balls all the way to the head of his cock. Bradley watched as you took the very tip of his bouncing length between your pretty lips. All you did was hold eye contact as you sucked on him like he was a piece of candy, your fingers tickling the trail of hair below his belly button, and he was mesmerized. 

"Those pouty lips will be the death of me," he whispered before sipping the beer again. "So fucking pretty." You sucked on him a little harder, and he clenched. Damn, you hadn't even taken him deep yet, and he was already eager. But he didn't care, because you already knew what you did to him.

Then you popped him free, rubbed your nose against his trimmed pubes before kissing his tip and said, "I love you." Then you grabbed him by the hips and let him slide all the way so he was tapping the back of your throat. 

"Oh, fuck," he grunted, already thinking about you gagging on his cum. You shook your head slightly when he was deep, and tears filled your eyes as you sucked. Bradley gripped the bottle, his voice only a harsh whisper as he said, "That's it. That's it. Fuck."

A few more deep thrusts had you struggling, which was honestly so fucking hot to him. You were making desperate little sounds, but you bobbed on him until you gagged. And that's really all it took.

You moaned as he filled your mouth, and he ran his thumb along your cheek as you gently sucked every drop from him. "Show it to me," he whispered softly and you smiled as you released him. Slowly, you parted your lips and tilted your face up for him, showing off your cupped tongue full of his cum. "Beautiful."

Then you swallowed him down and kissed his drained balls once more before you stood and took the beer bottle from his hand. Casually, you took a sip like you didn't just leave him twitching before you. "Is dinner almost ready?"

He was still thinking about it the next night when he was out with all the guys. Jake was marrying Jessica in a month, and all he asked for was a night of bar hopping. Normally Bradley would have been very good at this, but he was thinking about the way he'd fed you bites of pasta while standing in the kitchen as you moaned over how delicious it was. 

"Come on, Rooster, have a shot," Payback said, passing him some tequila. Just a few drinks would help him focus on the night with the guys. "Bottoms up." 

But at first, the drinks just made him think about calling you to see what you were up to. Jessica was supposed to stop by the house to hang out for a while, and he wondered if she was still there. Maybe she left and you were already changed into his Grateful Dead shirt for bed. Maybe he could just get an Uber right now and go home and find out for himself. He'd slip right into bed next to you. 

"Time for the karaoke bar!" Javy announced, and then Bradley had more shots in front of him before he ended up onstage, and he couldn't be sure where his shirt went, but oh well, it didn't really matter since his favorite shirt was at home with you, and it was suddenly time to sing. 

But he did remember to text you and let you know he'd be home very late.

-------------------------

Having the empty house to yourself felt a bit like it did when Bradley was deployed. So in that respect, it made you a little antsy. But on the other hand, it was peaceful when you had Jessica over for some snacks and a glass of wine. It was close to midnight when a bunch of photos came through to your phone and hers. 

"Oh no," she groaned as you scrolled through the images from Mickey. It appeared as though Bradley lost his shirt. Typical. 

"They are a mess," you muttered, finally getting to one where the guys were physically holding Jake up. "You're going to have your work cut out for you tomorrow."

She shook her head but laughed. "I think I'll head home and wait for him. I don't know if he'll even be able to make it from the front door to the bedroom without help."

"Bradley doesn't look much better," you added as you got to the last photo where he was chugging a beer, the amber liquid dribbling down his neck and bare chest. "Oh Lord."

"Call me tomorrow and let me know how bad it is?"

"Yeah," you agreed, walking her to the door and giving her a hug. 

And then you were met with silence again. You changed into Bradley's tie dye shirt and his robe that he'd had since college, but you weren't even slightly tired now. You glanced across the hallway to your office door covered in your own handwriting. 

SUGAR LOVES BEER BOY

Working through an advanced calculus problem before bed would definitely help you unwind. You walked to your white board while you looked up a problem on your phone and then scribbled it down and got to work. Oh, this one was a bit tricky with lots of side math to complete first. The squeak of your marker was soothing, and by the time you got to your tenth line in the proof solution, you were yawning.

"Works like a charm," you muttered, capping the marker and heading back across the hall where you climbed into bed. 

At one point during the night, you thought you heard Bradley stumble in the front door. "Beer Boy?" you called out, rolling over in bed.

You heard him slur, "It's just me, Sugar," followed by the sound of the refrigerator opening up. He'd come to bed eventually after he got a snack. You scooted back all the way to your side, preemptively trying to avoid him being a sticky, sweaty mess. You smiled and curled up, and you were back to sleep in seconds. 

But he never did come to bed, as evidenced by the still crisp bedding on his side when you woke up again at nine. You stretched and climbed out from the pocket of warmth and reached for his robe before you went to search the house. 

You started in the kitchen, thinking that being near the refrigerator might have been more appealing than the bed, but he wasn't there. You glanced out back and on the living room couch, but you didn't see him anywhere. 

"Bradley?" you called out as you looked in the bathroom, but he hadn't even fallen asleep in the tub. You pressed your lips together as you poked your head inside your office and gasped. "Seriously?"

He was sound asleep on the floor, his shirt nowhere to be seen, and he was snoring loudly. An empty ice cream carton and spoon were next to his head, and it looked like he'd eaten a value sized bag of pretzels. There were a few more wrappers and a lot of crumbs on the floor, and you just gaped at him as he started to roll onto his side and look around.

"What the fuck? Why is it such a mess in here? I just cleaned on Wednesday," he groaned, hair sticking up at every angle. He tilted his head and looked up at you through squinted eyes. "What happened?"

You gave him an incredulous look. "Why don't you tell me?"

He continued to look around the room as he sat up. "I don't know," he replied, pushing the pretzel bag to the side as he cradled his forehead in his palm. "Last thing I remember is the guys making me sing Caress Me Down for karaoke. Where's my shirt?"

Your deep sigh should have been warning enough for him, but he looked down at his abs, shocked that he was only wearing half of his outfit. "Once again, Bradley, why don't you tell me?"

"Baby, how am I supposed to know?" he whined. "God, now I have a fucking hangover, and I can't think."

If Jake was also this bad at the moment, then Jessica might need a reassuring phone call later. Hopefully he hadn't destroyed the carpet in their condo. You needed to get Bradley into the shower and then put him in bed so you could clean up the floor, but your eyes caught on your white board, and you gasped. "Bradley."

"What now?" he moaned as he got to his hands and knees in the crumbs. "My head is throbbing."

Your eyes skimmed from the top of the board to the very bottom, and you started laughing. He was looking up at you, confusion swirling along his handsome features as you had to brace your hands on your knees while you gasped for air and cackled. "Beer Boy!"

"Okay, yes," he grunted. "I'm beginning to think I was actually the one who made the mess in here, but I'll clean it up. It's not that funny."

"Bradley!" you screeched, pointing to the board. "You solved my advanced calculus problem!"

Slowly and seemingly painfully, he turned his head to look and crawled closer to the wall. "I don't think so," he muttered. "I don't even know what all of that means." He was standing on his knees, and trying so hard to figure it out. "Holy shit, that's my handwriting."

"It definitely is," you said through your laughter as you gently combed your fingers through his messy hair. He practically melted against your leg with his big hand on your thigh below his robe. "I am... somehow really impressed by this? You got drunk, got a ride home at four in the morning, and then you solved an advanced math problem before you passed out on my office floor."

"Yeah, I'm impressive as hell," he whispered, kissing you through the robe fabric. 

"You know... if you weren't so terribly hungover, I'd offer to blow you again like yesterday. Because this is something only my very best student would be able to do. And I love rewarding my best student." 

You stroked his cheek softly with your knuckles as he stared up at you with parted lips. "Professor Sugar," he rasped. "I'm totally fine. Barely hungover at all."

"Are you sure?" you laughed. "You look a little rough. And you made a huge mess."

"Yeah," he replied immediately. "I'm great. Wanna join me in the shower?"

You bent to kiss his forehead and whispered, "If you think you can handle it."

"Hell yes," he groaned, trying three times before he was able to get to his feet. Then he took you by the hand, and you helped him down the hallway to the bathroom. 

You pointed out the small closet on the way. "And when we're done, the vacuum cleaner is just hanging out right in there, waiting for you to clean up my office."

"Yeah, okay."

------------------------

Happy birthday, Nik! When you mentioned this idea, it had me cracking up. I hope you enjoy it as a birthday gift one day early! Thanks @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger

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[francisofthespook]

Daryl SFW Alphabet !!

I'm leaving for a roadtrip tomorrow and idk how active I'll be so here's a little something I wrote today. Writing this def gave me some good ideas for some oneshots... :)

Words: 3,291 (including the prompts)

Warnings: None really, mostly fluff/ one teeny tiny little mention of suggestive content but it's literally like half a sentence/maybe some allusions to violence

Template from: https://the-coldest-goodbye.tumblr.com/sfw-template (@the-coldest-goodbye )

((I only proofread this once so I may go back in and edit it if I find any mistakes))

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

At first, Daryl, would be super affectionate, but only in private. He might interlock a pinky with you while you’re all around the campfire at the quarry and the farm, but when no one else is around he would be so mushy. Maybe later on, around the time they get to Alexandria and they begin to feel some safety and stability, he would be a bit more affectionate in public. He would place his hand on the small of your back and stand close to you while you talk to the Alexandrians to subtly let them know you were taken, and maybe he would kiss your temple before he or you went out on a run without the other.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Daryl would be your best friend at first. He would always find a way to make you laugh, even if he wasn't really trying to. He would bring you little things he finds while he's out hunting like pretty flowers and rabbit's feet for good luck. He would always stick up for you when the group makes you feel like your suggestions are stupid. There would be a slight shift pretty soon into the friendship though where he realizes that he wants something more. He wouldn't say anything, he would wait for you to make the first move, or at least until he was pretty positive you felt the same way. He wouldn’t want to risk ruining your friendship if you didn't feel the same way. He would happily be your friend for the rest of your lives if that's all you could give him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Y E S! Daryl loves cuddles, there is nothing that makes him feel more loved than at the end of the day, regardless where you are, when you guys lay down and you curl up into his arms. He would usually stay awake for a little longer than you to make sure that it was safe…( totally not because he loves watching how your face relaxes when you finally fall asleep…) (and definitely not because your little snores warm his heart so much…) (and for sure not because he is enamored by the cryptic mumbling you do in your sleep, always trying to stay as still and quiet as possible so he can try and decipher what you're saying…)

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

There is nothing Daryl wants more than to be able to settle down with you. But given the state of the world, it wouldn't be easy for a while. Sometimes at night, before you get to Alexandria, he would almost tear up watching you fold your clothes and arrange your shared tent, longing for some normalcy in this world so that he can just enjoy his life with you instead of having to fight for it every day.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Early on in your relationship, Daryl might try to leave you a few times. Not because he has fallen out of love, but because he’s worried you're too good for him. He thinks so little of himself and that you deserve better than him. Sometimes just a small thing can trigger this thinking and he will go off into the woods for a while to try and work through his thoughts. But you always find him and tell him that you don’t want anyone else, only him. Once he finally feels comfortable enough in the relationship, there is absolutely nothing that can tear you apart. The only thing that would end the relationship, is if one of you dies.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Daryl had never envisioned himself settling down and getting married. But when you guys get together, he is so overwhelmed by his love for you that he kinda starts to want that. Of course, it isn't really a possibility now, but he would find you a ring one day while out on a run and bring it back to you. He would walk you down to the edge of the prison yard where no one can see you and lay with you in the grass for a while before he rolls over and gently grabs your wrist, lifting it up and slipping the ring onto your finger. “Daryl Dixon, are you proposing to me?” you would say in a smug tone. “Dun need a ring to know I’m yers, but thought it would look pretty on ya” You wouldn't say much after that, not wanting to ruin the moment. This world was filled with so many uncertainties that it was scary to get so close to someone. But at the same time, the ring would become a symbol to you of what you were fighting for, a world where you could just be safe and have a happy life with your partner.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Typically, Daryl is the biggest softie around you, ‘no’ is not a word in his vocabulary when it comes to you. He would be so careful with you that it almost sometimes frustrated you. But when it came to your safety, he would be a bit more firm, blatantly telling you ‘no’ when you ask to come on a riskier run. He would not take any chances, so sometimes he was a bit more rough when he really had to put his foot down. But you knew that he was only like that because he cared so much so it doesn’t really bother you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Being hugged by Daryl would be one of your favorite things in the world. He would engulf your entire body like a warm blanket and hold you firmly close to him. He would always put one arm around your back, the other holding your head while he leaned his own into your shoulder. Sometimes he would gently rub your back in soothing circles while he embraced you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear when no one else was around.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It would probably be a while before Daryl told you he loved you, but he would have known it for a long time before actually saying it. He would probably wait for you to say it first, not wanting to scare you off by making things more serious. As much as he would want to make a big deal about it, his anxiety would get the best of it and he would probably say it in passing one day, without bringing too much attention to it. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Only God himself could save someone from the wrath of a jealous Daryl. It was never something that he really had to deal with while you guys were on the road, maybe a few times here and there, but let's just say that the guys you ran into who made remarks won't ever make them again. When you get to Alexandria, he would have to reel in his rage a bit more, given these were people you would have to live with. But there would definitely be a few guys who suffered a fist to the face when they looked at you a certain way. The residents of Alexandria picked up pretty quickly that you were off-limits.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Daryl would kiss you alllll the time. He would kiss your head a lot since he’s much taller than you and there wasn't much privacy in the early days. You guys would never get into anything too passionate in public obviously, but behind closed doors, it was like he was the thirstiest man alive and you were the last drop of water left on earth. Before he would leave for a run he would hold the sides of your head with both hands and press a long kiss into your forehead before giving you a small peck on the lips. 

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Children make Daryl a little uncomfortable at first. He never really knew how to act around them and what not to say. But over time he would grow very fond of Judith and RJ. When you guys get to the Commonwealth, you would basically adopt them. He would treat them like his own, playing with them when he had time off and reading them books in the evening. He wouldn’t want kids of his own, which was fine because you wouldn't either, but he would be more than happy being the appointed guardian of Rick's kids for the time being.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Much to your dismay, Daryl was a morning person. In Alexandria and the Commonwealth, he would get up early in the mornings and make you something to eat while you slept a little while longer. He would quietly slip into your room and gently wake you up before handing you the plate of whatever he threw together. You guys would just sit in bed for a bit while you ate and talk about what you had to do for the day. Usually, he would eventually have to go do some sort of work, so he would tuck you back in and give you a kiss on the forehead before heading out and letting you catch a few extra hours of rest.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

In the evenings, you would cuddle up close to each other while you would whisper stories from your childhood. Over time, this nightly routine would become an exchange of stories, and he would share a few short memories from his own childhood. When you both eventually either ran out of stories or simply began to forget them, you would both talk about the future. What your imaginary house would look like, and how many cats you would adopt. When you had those talks, he would end them by leaning close to your ear and whispering “one day”, before giving you a kiss and drifting off to sleep.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Figuring out Daryl would be like trying to put together a puzzle with pieces you find hidden around a maze. Every once in a while he would drop a little tidbit about himself and you would memorize it and store it away, placing another piece in the slowly growing puzzle until you eventually begin to see the picture. Each time you would reference something he had told you before, or picked up something for him on a run that reminded you of a story he told you, he would fall deeper and deeper in love. It was the little things that meant the most to him, he was never one for grand gestures.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

To this day, the group still cannot comprehend how well he’s able to keep his patience with you. There were more than a few times that you made dumb mistakes, or got hurt, but he rarely broke. Sometimes, he would crack just a tiny bit when you did something that could've gotten you injured, but he would take a deep breath to calm himself down before apologizing and reminding you that he's not upset, he just doesn't want you to get hurt. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

You would begin to think that Daryl knows you better than you know yourself. Not only did he remember every single thing you ever told him, no matter how big or small, but he also became an expert in analyzing your every move. He could spot your emotions sometimes before you even understood what you were feeling, always knowing how to approach you and talk to you based on your mood and expressions. You wouldn’t realize it at first, but when he begins to bring you little things like candy you mentioned once that you used to like, or your favorite color sweater, you knew he was in deep. No one had ever made you feel more loved or more seen than he does.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He would probably just enjoy all the quiet moments you were able to have together. Maybe his favorite would be the day you both went out to an empty field near Alexandria, devoid of walkers and had a picnic in the grass. You laid around for a while, watching the clouds pass by before you realized that he was watching you and not the sky. “What?” You stifled a laugh and asked him. “Nuthin’. You're just so beautiful” You blushed a deep red and that only made him grow more enamored. He wasn't able to help himself, he leaned over and kissed you. He knew it was risky, but his need for you overtook him and you made lazy love in the field.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

In his mind, Daryl’s number one job is keeping you safe. Yes of course, he cared greatly about the group’s safety, but you were always top priority. Hell hath no fury like Daryl when he’s coming for someone who hurt you, on the rare occasion that they got through him. He would die for you in an instant, no hesitation. It would worry you, how much he risked his own life to keep yours safe, but you knew that it was a moot point. There was nothing you could say or do to convince him to back down. He would protect you until he was no longer breathing.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Daryl has never really been in a relationship before, so he doesn't know what to do. He's constantly asking Carol for ideas of gifts, dates, and small kindnesses he can do for you to show how much he loves you. She would tell him that he just needs to follow his heart and do whatever feels right, not try to force it. On the rare occasion that you had the time and safety, he would plan little dates. Taking you out to a spot that he had cleared the day before while telling everyone else you were going on a run. He would give you little handmade bracelets, trinkets he found while he was out, and cook for you as often as he could. But would feel like no actions could ever portray how much he loves you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

You would be frustrated by how quick he would be to defend your honor. Even when someone would say something so small and insignificant, if Daryl thought it was an insult, fists would begin flying. But secretly, you loved how defensive he was of you. And you had to admit, it was pretty funny seeing Spencer whimper and scurry away from Daryl whenever they locked eyes, it's a shame his nose never did heal right.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Daryl doesn't care at all how he looks, unless he thinks that you don't like something. He would let you cut his hair when it got too long, and trim his beard when it got unruly, but you thought he was perfect just the way he is so he was content with himself. He would be a little insecure about his scars when you guys first get together, but it wouldn't take too long for him to feel comfortable enough with you to take off his shirt.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

When Daryl was without you, it was like a piece of his heart was missing. He would constantly be on edge and anxious to get back to you. He had fallen so hard, it would be actually impossible for him to exist without you anymore. Runs were hard, especially when he would be gone for a week or more, but he would keep a little polaroid photo of you in his vest pocket to try and fill a tiniest bit of the void that you left. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Daryl would write you notes. Whether it be a sticky note on your pillow in the morning when you woke up telling you that he had run to Ricks and would be back soon, or a note he slipped into your backpack before you left for a run telling you to be safe, and that he would miss you and couldn't wait for you to get back. When he is working on the bridge, he sends you letters by ‘mail’, making whoever is running back and forth to Alexandria drop it off on your porch. These letters would be longer, detailing what all they had done that day and how much he missed you. You would write letters back to him and every time he saw the courier coming up on the camp, he would rush over and grab your letter before retreating back into his tent to read it. He keeps all of them in a small box hidden under his bed, and sometimes when he can't get to sleep at night, he’ll read them for a while until he's able to drift off.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Daryl wouldn’t like it when you wore makeup. Sometimes you would find an old tube of concealer or eyeshadow while you’re out and you would take it home and wear it for a bit. He didn't necessarily think it looked bad but he thought you were beautiful just the way you were, so he would tell you that you didn’t need it and sometimes try to hide it so you can't use it again. Although, he did love it when you got wine drunk and put on your reddest lipstick and gave him kisses all over his face and chest while giggling and telling him how much you love him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Daryl is such a blanket hog. When he first falls asleep he cuddles up next to you and holds you close, but as the night goes on he begins to slightly toss and turn, and usually he ends up taking the covers with him. It wasn’t unusual for you to wake up in the middle of the night to a chill breeze and see Daryl on the other end of the bed with the covers half hanging off his side, half wrapped around him like a cocoon. He would always feel bad when he woke up and saw you were uncovered, so eventually, he would find an extra large blanket that covered you both, no matter how much he moved around.

[doctor-dusk]

𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

a private session, as he said.

warnings: mutual masturbation, fingering (f receiving), exhibitionism and voyeurism.

word count: 3.4k

part 1, part 2

it took me longer than expected. ngl that i've been feeling a bit discouraged and insecure about my writing lately and i've been putting off posting. anyway, hope you like it :3

you haven't stopped talking for a minute since alex got your phone number. like, for hours, going into the early hours of the morning sometimes. 

you found out he lived a few minutes away from you and was a bartender at a night pub, so eventually he had to be absent when he was on his shift. of course you understood, but you couldn't help but miss talking to him when he was away for too long, especially at night. you found yourself looking at his profile picture, or at the photos he sent you throughout the days. 

obviously, at this point you already had a certain level of intimacy, so he didn't see a problem in sending you some kind of spicy photos, for example, after the shower. oh, these were your favorites. you loved his toned muscles glistening with water, the fluffy towel wrapping around his waist, the marked v line. and of course, you loved seeing the outline of his cock in the towel. 

a was a tuesday night. particularly rainy, the wind was not violent and the news reported that it could last until the next day, but that doesn't bother you. you were reading a book peacefully on your bed when you felt your cell phone vibrate under your pillow.

you fumbled around the bed looking for your cell phone, reaching under your pillow to grab the phone, turning on the screen and smiling when you saw that he had sent you a message.

“hi baby, just got back home.’’ he texted you.

you smiled at the nickname. it was already natural for him to call you that, but you still found yourself giggling about it whenever he called you like that.

“did something happen?” you texted him back. he should be working now, since he had said he had a shift at the pub that night.

“the power went out at the pub because of the rain,” he explained in another message after a while. “guess i'll have to go back tomorrow to make up the hours. yay.” 

you chuckled softly. it wasn't like he didn't like his job, he just found it tiring sometimes.

“what are you going to do now?” you asked him. 

“well, for starters, i’m gonna take a shower and eat something.” he answered, sending another message afterwards. “but first of all take off these clothes. i'm so fucking wet.” 

“hey, that's my line.” you joked, imagining he must have laughed when he read it. and he did.

“cheeky. later i'll make you wetter than i am now, what do you think?” he suggested. you bit your lip.

“i’ll wait for it.’’ you texted back, swaying your legs up and down like a teenager.

“good. i’ll call you in 30 minutes. wear something nice for me, love ;)” 

you thought you were dressed appropriately for him. a cotton cropped shirt and a flared mini skirt. but you thought there's something missing. it wasn't "nice" enough for him.

you opened your closet and drawers, looking for some suggestion. you didn't even know exactly what you were looking for. 

your eyes landed on your underwear drawer, remembering that you had a pair of white knee socks somewhere. you didn't know if he would like them, but knowing him well enough, you could deduce that was worth a try.

you put on the socks, the soft fabric gliding over your legs like a massage, the hem resting right above your knees. you looked at your reflection in the mirror, flexing your leg and bending your knee to see how it looked. then you turned your back, looking over your shoulder to see how it looked from this angle. it wasn't bad. it showed off your legs nicely. he might like it, but if he doesn't, he'll be polite enough to ask you to take it off.

you made sure your door was locked, turning the knob twice as a precaution. once confirmed, you jumped on your bed, grabbing your phone. as if on time, a message from him popped up on your screen.

‘’ready?’’

‘’yep.’’ you texted, settling yourself in bed, lying partially between your pillows, your back resting on the headboard, your knee bent so you could rest your phone on it.

seconds later, a video call popped up on your screen, and you answered it without delay.

oh, as always, he was handsome. unlike you, he was standing, probably walking around his apartment, the position of the camera revealed that he was holding his phone a little too low. and of course, shirtless.

‘’hey love, i- fuck, no, no! wait a minute.’’ he said before you could say anything, leaving his phone in a corner, the camera focusing on the ceiling was all you could see now. you waited for him to come back, listening for some noises and trying to figure out what it was. seconds later, he came back. ‘’sorry, i had to put the neighbor's cat out. the bastard tried to steal my last slice of pizza.’’ 

you laughed at what he said. you expected anything but that. 

‘’how did he tried to steal your pizza?’’ you asked as he was making his way to the bedroom, turning off the lights on the way.

‘’he came in through my kitchen window. can't turn my back for a bloody second.’’ he rolled his eyes, entering his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed. ‘’you look lovely, baby. new necklace?’’ he pointed out. you looked at your chest, the silver necklace resting on your collarbone. you didn't even think he would notice that. but he was very observant, especially when it came to you.

‘’yeah, i bought it yesterday when i went out to shopping with my mom.’’ you answered and he hummed, his mouth was too busy eating a piece of pizza. ‘’although this isn't the necklace i was looking for.’’

‘’which one did you want?’’ he asked, his voice a little muffled as he was finishing the slice of pizza.

‘’your hand.’’ you answered him, causing him to cough almost uncontrollably because he almost choked on the piece of pizza. you would have laughed if you weren't so worried about him. “are you okay? i'm sorry, i-”

‘’no, no, i'm fine. wasn't expecting it, you can't do this to me, jesus.” he laughed after catching his breath, his face was a little red because of it. “you can't have my hand as your necklace if you choke me to death on a piece of pizza.”

“sorry, i didn't know you'd be so surprised.” you chuckled softly, watching him wipe his mouth with a napkin, throwing the paper in the trash.

“you just caught me by surprise, hon. you're not usually this forward.” he said. he was right, sometimes you were a little shy, even though you've done things that say otherwise. “by the way, are you wearing something nice like i asked you to?”

you nodded, adjusting your posture, getting into an angle so he could see your body when you stretched out your arm holding your phone in your hand, giving him a good view. he let out a low whistle, enjoying the view.

“no way, knee socks?” he asked with raised eyebrows as his eyes landed on your legs, making himself comfortable in his bed. it wasn't in a disapproving tone, by the way.

“yeah, did you like it?” you asked a little insecurely.

“hell, a lot.” he licked his lips, taking a look at you. “i have an idea, do you want to know what it is?”

you nodded eagerly. by the tone he spoke, he was certainly going to suggest something for you to do.

“take off your clothes. i want you in nothing but those knee socks. can you do that for me, love?”

the idea made your hair stand on end. you knew that eventually you would undress for him, but you didn't know that you would be so nervous about the idea and that it would be so exciting to be naked for him, wearing only a pair of white knee socks.

“you can take your time, baby. don't worry, i've got all the time in the world for you.” he reassured you, making you even more comfortable with the idea.

“shirt?” you suggested and he hummed in agreement.

“are you wearing a bra?” he asked and you shook your head. “good. i miss those nice tits of yours.”

you giggled, grabbing a pillow and placing it on the middle of the bed, positioning your phone so that it rests on it.

“is the angle okay?” you asked him, sitting with your legs spread on the bed. he could even get a small glimpse of your panties.

“amazing, baby. keep going.” he said. he didn't really care about the angle as long as he could see you and your body on full display for him on his phone screen.

you pulled your crop top up, pulling it over your head. the mere sight of your breasts on the screen made him groan, biting his lip as he palmed himself over his sweatpants, even though you couldn't see it for now.

‘’so beautiful. one day i'm going to suck those tits, mark my words.’’

you smiled at the idea. alex seemed like the kind of hungry man who could devour you if he could. and he really was. he wanted to mark you, to sink his fingers and teeth into your flesh, so that he and everyone else could see that he was the one who did this to you. he wanted to make sure everyday that you were his, that only he could see you like that and make you feel that way. 

you touched your boobs, adding a little more anticipation to the moment, your nipples hardening with the mere stimulation on them, your eyes rarely looking at him on the screen, focused on losing your shyness as you touched your left breast while your right hand went down your belly.

“the skirt too?” you asked him, tracing your index finger along the waistband of your skirt.

“everything.” alex answered, a minimally authoritative tone was noticeable in his voice, but you didn't think it was bad. it turned you on even more.

you shifted in bed, your fingers hooked on the sides of your skirt, slowly pulling it down, letting the material slide down your legs, his eyes watching every move without blinking, as if he would never see something like that again in his life. his hand tightened his grip on his cock, feeling that sooner or later he would have to take it out, such was the pressure inside his boxers.

“you have beautiful legs, love.” he praised you as he drank the sight of your semi naked body, the only thing that kept him from seeing you naked were your panties and knee socks.

“thank you.” you smiled, you liked it when he complimented you, even when it was something simple. you felt desired, in a way.

“you're nervous, aren't you?” he asked. he had never seen you in person and never lived with you physically, but he knew you well enough to know that.

“god, yes. i'm sorry, i've never done that.” you mumbled, closing your legs a bit so you wouldn't feel so exposed.

“that's okay, baby, you're doing so good. take your time.” he said in a reassuring tone, not wanting you to feel insecure or embarrassed around him. “just remember that sooner or later i'm going to see this pretty pussy of yours. and believe me, i'm going to gorge myself on it.”

you chuckled awkwardly, still feeling a bit insecure. he pouted slightly.

“hey, look at me.” he asked you, he couldn't just hold your face and make you look at him, so he expected you to look back at the screen, which is what you did. “don't worry about it. we're just going to have some fun, i want you to enjoy yourself with me, hm?” he spoke calmly and patiently, knowing he needed to be careful with his words.

you smiled, nodding in response to him. he knew how to reassure you, how to make you feel safe. you were in this together, after all.

you tried opening your legs again, your hand running over the fabric of your underwear, testing the waters as he swallowed hard at your actions. you touched your sensitive bud, feeling it contract inside your panties with the touch of your fingertip.

‘’mhm, that’s it. doing so good, love.” he said, his voice almost in a whisper as he stuck his hand inside his sweatpants, squeezing his cock more directly over his boxers, his thumb ghosted over his sensitive tip, leaking precum and staining the fabric of his underwear. 

he felt uncomfortable with this, shifting in bed to get his sweatpants and boxers down, freeing his cock, the angle he was lying at made the tip touch his stomach.

“you're making me hard as fuck.” he moaned in a somewhat anxious way.

“yeah? show me.” you instigated him.

fuck, you didn't even need to ask twice. he angled his phone so you could see his cock, his free hand grabbing it firmly by the base, massaging it deftly, working his way up until he reached the head, pulling back the foreskin so you could see his glistening tip practically taking over your screen.

you leaned against the headboard, supporting your body weight there while your hands were free. one hand hooked your panties, finally pulling to the side, showing him your most intimate area.

“beautiful. just like i imagined.” he bit his lip, watching your fingers firmly grip the fabric of your panties like a real hook while the fingers of your other hand roamed the skin of your crotch, teasing both you and him. “god, i can already imagine myself with my face buried in this pussy all day.”

you giggled, you loved how vocal he was. your index and middle finger wandered through your folds in an inverted 'v' position, sliding up and down your labia, feeling your digits getting wet.

“'wet?”

“so fucking wet.” you answered and he groaned. you also knew how to tease him with words, his dirty thoughts getting the best of him as he saw you touching yourself like this.

“yeah? think i can shove my cock inside you without needing lube?” he asked you, starting to pump his cock faster.

“oh, you have no idea.” you said in a sly tone, moving your hands away from there only to pull the panties down your legs, discarding them on the bed among the sheets. and you were just the way he asked, completely naked, except for the knee socks. oh, that made his cock throb.

“god, you're so fucking hot.” he hissed, pumping faster, his fist closed so tightly that his tip was getting redder and the veins were getting more visible. “touch yourself for me, love. please.”

you brought your index and middle fingers to your mouth, thinking about it. please. he never asked you “please”, not that you remember. he always asked, in a polite but authoritative tone, sounding like a gentle order. but never added the word please. 

it sounded like he's begging you. and you liked it.

“please?” you repeated the word, wetting your fingers, bringing them down to your sensitive bud that was aching to be touched.

“fucking please…” he said in a desperate growl, his eyes fixed on your body as you tesed him furter, circling your fingers on your clit, the contact making you hiss. “feels good?”

“mhmm, so good…” you hummed, circling your fingers counterclockwise, the way you always did when you pleased yourself alone in that bed in your room. “i wish you were touching me right now.”

“don't say that to me or i might come out in the rain and climb in through your bedroom window just to fuck you.” he panted, making you imagine the scene, a small whimper leaving your lips.

“yeah? would you fuck me good?” you asked, moving your fingers down, teasing your wet and slick entrance, your fingertips sliding in with ease.

“so good, baby. would you like it hard and deep?" he asked you, feeling the pleasure starting to get the best of him, he tried to hold on as much as he could.

you nodded eagerly, sliding two fingers inside your tight heat. he watched as you buried your own fingers inside your cunt until reached your knuckles, withdrawing them just to repeat the motion. nothing had ever turned him on as much as this. he felt like a teenager watching porn for the first time, but it was a thousand times better. it was real, and it was for him. only for him.

“so be it. gonna fuck you good, baby. the way you deserve it.” 

his words entered your mind like a virus, your eyes squeezed shut as your fingers went back and forth, coating them with your arousal. you couldn't help but vividly imagine him fucking you hard, his hips snapping against yours, his cock filling you to the brim as he squeezed your neck, calling you his little slut who takes his cock so fucking well.

“oh my god, please…” you whimpered breathlessly, your legs starting to tremble involuntarily, your head tilting to the side.

“are you going to come for me, love? you're so close, i can see it.” he hummed, watching you nodding, his fist was hurting, but he didn't want to stop, not when he was so close too.

“yes, yes, oh alex…” you moaned his name, making him grunt in response, his breath ragged and his body trembled, he could barely concentrate on holding the phone anymore, even though he doesn't want to miss a single second of you fingering yourself, chasing your climax.

“fuck, i can't hold back…” he almost whined, and you let out a satisfied smile, so close that you're already seeing stars.

“yes, fuck me, alex…” you moaned, and that was the last straw for him. he moaned loudly, his head falling back into the pillow as he came, making a mess of his own belly and chest, but he didn't stop, even though his senses were overwhelmed at this point.

as you watched him fucking his own fist through his orgasm and heard his whimpers, you followed him suit, cumming on your fingers, your free hand covered your mouth so you wouldn't moan loudly as the climax hit you, your trembling legs closed automatically around your hand as your fingers pumped and curled inside you to prolong your pleasure.

in the seconds that followed, all that could be heard besides the sound of the rain outside were the panting breaths as the bodies lay completely exhausted on the respective beds. it was so intense, you couldn't remember the last time you had an orgasm that good, especially when you were touching yourself.

after a few seconds, he broke the silence.

“still there?” he asked. you gave him thumbs up and he chuckled. you needed a few more seconds to recover.

“yeah, yeah…” you mumbled, taking a deep breath through your nose and letting it out through your mouth. then, you lifted your head, looking at him. he was as broken as you were.

“it just gets better, princess. you're amazing, really.” he said. and he was sincere, you could see it. or at least he gave you enough confidence to make you think that.

“you're amazing too. you must be even better in person.” you answered him next. it was like you were having pillow talk after sex. the difference is you hadn't had sex. not yet.

“well, baby, i'll try to impress you. i have to win you over every day.” he chuckled, groaning as he saw his own mess, knowing he would have to clean himself up. “hate this part.” 

“i wish i could lick you clean.” you pouted and he pouted too, chuckling at your boldness.

“you always get feisty after having your orgasm, huh?” he questioned and you giggled, picking up your panties to put them back on carefully, your legs felt like jelly. 

“only with you.” you winked at him, licking your fingers as he sighed at the sight of you. he was quiet for a while, just looking at you, his mind working in different ways. “what?”

“i want to see you.” he answered after a few seconds of silence.

“you’re seeing me already.” you chuckled and he shook his head after letting out a weak laugh.

“no, i want to really see you. to meet you in person.” 

oh. now that was another level.

[richeeduvie]

If you could, maybe write… a tiny bit more for Streamer reader x Homelander….🧎‍♀️‍➡️ if possible… 🥀🥀

Okay. A tiny bit. Masterlist!

TW: Fatshaming (not reader) cause Homelander's an asshole.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

"...What are you watching?"

Homelander's head doesn't snap. He just...looks up. Turns stiffly, sternly, simply towards the sight of A-Train. All of his pathetic, nosy chub.

"Why is it any fucking business of yours?"

It comes out very quickly and really, really fucking harsh. He almost spat. Homelander doesn't feel regret. Of course fucking not, but he's surprised he got that defensive.

This is the first time he's ever watched you in public. He doesn't feel the need to admit that it's because he doesn't want anyone else watching you, maybe it's more of A-Train not minding his fucking business and knowing his place.

...He just can't help himself anymore. Is he in any position to blame you? No. You can't hear him. But it's your fault. You've got the stupid little face all up in his mind now. 24/7. It's very annoying, really. And you just keep giving. You keep streaming more and more, with less and less clothing like the slut you are, and it doesn't help that his boring girl is gone.

Like he can teach you a lesson just by watching you with criticism.

Eh, maybe you're not that much of a whore. Maybe you're just desperate for cash, and you know there are some sad, sad fucks who'd cut their dicks off if meant you popping a tit out through the grain of the screen.

That would be something, though. It's not Homelander's fault for imagining how they feel. Even when you weren't wearing whorish clothing, you were so nice to him when he was your only fan that he couldn't help but think of you belonging to him. You're not supposed to be as nice and boring as you are if you don't want to belong to him.

And you're especially not supposed to be streaming three to four times a week for the sake of losers who couldn't give you the world he could fucking give you. You don't even know it. You'd stop all of this stupid twitch influencer bullshit if you knew what he could give you.

Right?

"You know why, guys? I'm not feeling all too well, I think I'm gonna head out early. I'm really, really sorry."

"What the fuck? Are you fucking kidding? I thought--"

Homelander turns to A-Train, whose head snaps back to face the elevator door.

He sighs through his nose. He begins to type with force.

'I thought I had a few more hours to complain about your bullshit?'

Your coo shoots right down to his dick. Homelander closes his eyes. Fucking hell. This isn't fair! Nothing about you isn't fair.

"I'm sorry, John. I don't think you want me vomiting onscreen. Listen, I'll be back tomorrow."

"I'm busy tomorrow!"

"...You okay, Homela--"

"Shut up! If you want to lose that double chin of yours, you can do jaw exercises. You don't have to yap-yap...yap. Fuck."

"Come on, man--"

He types some more.

'I can't do tomorrow.'

He watches you blink at the chat, smiling growing thin.

"Well, I'm sure if you see too much of me, you'll get tired of my this old mug. I am sorry, I'll see all of you guys later. Byeeeeee!"

You waves. Homelander feels his eyes tense and get hot. Sore.

Like he's holding back fucking tears. Like he's a toddler who has to be away from Mommy for the first time. Like he's a pathetic little bitch.

No. No. It's not that. It's just that it isn't fair.

'Please?'

Homelander feels the tears drop under curved brows when you end the stream before you can see his message. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Why are you doing this to him?!

Why are you able to do this to him? Why has he stopped caring?

Homelander bites down on his gloved knuckle. A-Train leaves as quickly as he can when the elevator dings open.

[words-4u]

right person (1/3)

pairings: luca x reader, marcus x reader (platonic)

wc: 1.4k

a/n: immediately started planning a three part series on luca while watching the bear s2. that's what a tatted will poulter does to me (the bear is an incredible show btw pls watch if you don't)

warning: swearing

part 2 / part 3

"denmark?"

"yes! we are sending you and marcus to denmark for two weeks to stage at this really great restaurant. you're gonna learn to do three new desserts for us. carmy knows the head pastry chef. says he's really cool so it should be fun, right?" sydney explained.

"that does sound fun! i'm in!" you smile.

you look at marcus who was deep in thought. if you had to guess what he was thinking, his mind is probably on his mom who was currently bed ridden at a hospital.

you put a hand on marcus' shoulder. "you good with that?" you ask your co pastry chef.

he broke out of his thoughts and nods. "yeah, i-i'm great. i'd love to."

"great! cause you guys really didn't have a choice. your flights are already booked for tomorrow afternoon sooo thanks!" sydney offers two thumbs and an awkward smile before she leaves what used to be the kitchen.

"holy shit," you whisper in shock. "staging at a michelin star restaurant in a country i've always wanted to visit. could this be any better?"

"i have to go tell my mom but give me a call if you need a ride to the airport tomorrow. chester will probably take me and we can swing by your place if you want?"

"dude, yes! that'd save me a shit ton of money that i would've spent on uber."

"cool, see you," marcus grabs his bag and heads out the door.

after helping fak, riche and gary with fallen ceiling debris, you decide to leave a bit early to pack and clean your apartment before your travel.

it was noon on the dot the next day when marcus calls to check if you were ready for the airport. since you packed the night before, you had a rather peaceful morning. chester talks your ear off the whole way to the airport and you guys get there he demands to see your passports because he wants to make sure you and marcus actually had it on you.

"chester, can you do me a favour and check in on my ma when you get the time?" marcus asks.

"dude, i'm way ahead of you. gonna check on her every morning on my way to work,"

"i appreciate it."

chester looks at both you. "now, i want you take a deep breath and let the good in. you guys are gonna kill it."

you grin at marcus' friend. "thanks chester. okay we're gonna have to leave now before we miss our flight."

marcus says his farewell to his best friend and the two of you head to your gate.

the plane ride to copenhagen was smooth despite marcus' worries. you guys hop on a train to explore the city before heading to where you were staying.

"trains here are way cleaner than the ones in chicago," marcus leans over to whisper.

"waay cleaner," you agree.

the two of you exited the station and stood in awe of your view. clear blue skies. cool fresh air. colourful buildings. and the smell of hotdogs which was incredibly appealing after your long journey.

you and marcus lock eyes. "oh yeah."

marcus got a hotdog with dried onions and pickles on top while you had a plain jane moment with just ketchup.

"this is the best thing i've ever put in my mouth," you say with in between bites.

"just what i needed honestly," marcus says.

after your quick meal, the two of you continue to wander the city taking in the architecture most of all.

marcus was using the maps feature on his phone to find the place you were supposed to be staying at.

"uh i don't see any apartment buildings near," you say. "are you sure we are in the right place?"

marcus led you to a canal where some boats were docked. "i am 99.9% sure. you're staying in 286 and i'm in 287."

you glance at the boat in front of you and saw the gold numbers plaque on the side. "well, mystery solved. this is your place and i'm guessing this one is mine." you moved further down to the boat behind marcus' one.

"sick," he smiles.

"i'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"night, y/n!"

you walk down a couple of steps before unlocking a door that lead to a kitchen and dining room. it was spacious and you were grateful for the many windows it had. the stairs to the left led up to the bedroom which was a lot smaller than you anticipated having only space for your bed and a small cabinet for clothes.

you flop on your bed and exhaled. you didn't realize how tired you were until your head hit the soft mattress and while everything in you wanted to knock out, you knew you had to get up and unpack because you wouldn't have time tomorrow.

one thing you were not was a morning person and yes you should have gotten used to it by now working in the restaurant industry but getting up at 4 a.m. will never feel natural. regardless, you had a twinge of excitement for your new job and excited to learn under this new chef that carmy spoke so highly of.

once you got ready for the day, you hear three soft knocks.

"morning," you say. "you ready?"

"born ready," marcus says as you lock your door and head to the restaurant.

it was only a 15 minute walk from where you were staying so the two of you arrive with time to spare.

you walk into the bright kitchen and suck in a breath. the kitchen was stunning with it's high-end equipment, gorgeous green tiling and the young hot chef moving bags of flour from one table to another.

"chef. i'm marcus brooks and this is y/n y/l/n," marcus begins. "and we're from-"

the chef looks up for a quick second. "i know. i'm luca, pastry. we start at 5 a.m. your section's at the end of the bench."

the english accent takes you by surprise. your knees could have buckled right then and there.

"yes, chef," the two of you say in unison.

now your excitement turned into nervousness. not only were you to create three star-worthy desserts for the bear, you had to learn from someone who is so extremely good looking it hurts.

marcus and you head to the back to change into your uniforms which was a basic indigo t-shirt and a green apron like luca had.

when you went back out, you immediately wash your hands and got ready for whatever luca had in store for you guys.

luca had marcus rollout croissant pastry while he led you to a table where he had prepared a dessert. your task was to place pieces of peanuts at a certain angle as part of its presentation.

you study luca as he shows you what to do. he had small black tattoos scattered up and down his arms. that alone is having an effect on you.

"here, you try," he says passing the tweezers to you.

your fingers brush as you took the small tool from him. luca didn't make eye contact but you did notice his jaw clench.

"nuzzle that sliver into the pudding just to lock it in."

"yes, chef," you say.

taking one of the small nuts from the bowl, you place it on the pudding but it slipped last second.

"no. again, chef," he says in a calm yet assertive tone.

"sorry," you say and try again and it's worse which luca picks up on.

"hm, worse."

he takes the tweezers from you and picks up the piece. "don't be afraid to just stick it in there, you know," luca takes the nut and slides it in perfectly. "just be confident about it."

"don't second-guess yourself," he says finally locking eyes with you.

you nod. "yes, chef."

you took the tweezers back and third time was the charm because you placed the nut in the pudding just like he'd showed you. smiling to yourself, you put the tool down.

luca's face stays expressionless. he looks up from the dessert. "you know how to make shiso gelee?"

you absolutely do not know how to make whatever he just said but there was no way you were gonna let him know that.

"yes, chef."

"alright."

luca steps away to grab some ingredients which gives you the opportunity to whip your phone out and google the gelee. "dextrose? what the fuck is that?" you whisper to yourself.

luca came back and places a tray in front you. "recipe," he says tapping some blue index cards.

you felt your face burn. "thank you, chef."

end of part 1 omggg. not much luca x reader but it’s warming up trust me. i already have ideas for part 2 and 3 with some potential alternate endings... stay tuned

if you enjoyed, please let me know (through my bio) if you have any the bear requests, send them my way!

[weird-is-life]

hi lovely! a p vague request if you’re up for it!! remus x fem!/gn! reader fluff<3 he’s just painfully pining for her, getting a bit jealous when she’s hit on by other guys. they’re hanging out one night and it gets cold, so he gives her his jacket thinking the jacket could not look better on anyone else!

take the fic wherever you want babes! i’m just obsessed w your writing & the idea of lupin pining

Hii lovely, ty you so much for this cute request and I'm so so glad you enjoy my writing🥹🥹🥹. Warnings: fluff, use of y/n and pet names, mentions of pub,(0.8k)

It's Friday night, so of course the pub is stuffed with people. But Remus wasn't expecting, that you'd be getting hit on by so many guys, even if the pub is overcrowded.

He thinks, that if one more guy comes up to you and invites you for a drink, he won't be able to stop himself from beating him up.

To your credit tho, you've sent the guys running to the other side of the pub with your rejections. You are not even slightest bit interested in anybody, other than Remus.

The cheeky smirks, that Sirius and James keep sending his way aren't helping one bit either. They obviously know of Remus's crush on you and they keep pulling his leg about not making a move on you yet.

"You okay?" you nudge him with your elbow. Another thing that isn't helping with his intense feelings for you right now, is that you've been sitting next to him the whole night.

He breaks out of his thoughts and smiles at you, " of course. I'm perfect," he lies, but he can't tell you the truth. He's not ready for a rejection from you, he doesn't think he'll ever be ready for it.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I'm okay, I promise," he's not, but he doesn't tell you that. You seem happy with his answer, because you smile at him sweetly as you always do.

"Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure, before I left," you say as you start to gather your things to leave.

"You're leaving?" Remus asks quickly,  making a poor job of masking his disappointment.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I'd love to stay, but I have to get up early tomorrow," you say very apologetic.

"Don't be," he replies and adds without thinking, " I'll go with you. I'm feeling tired, too."

It's not exactly a lie, he feels a bit tired, but also he wants to spend some more time with you and more importantly, he doesn't want you to go home alone.

"Oh, okay." You don't question it and just nod. You say your goodbyes to everyone and leave. The boys wink teasingly at him to which Remus only rolls his eyes.

You walk side by side outside and Remus is quick to a hail a taxi for you two. In the meantime, you start to get cold. You didnt't realise, when you were dressing up, how much the temperature lowers after it gets dark in the autumn.

Finally, Remus manages to get a taxi and you eagerly get inside of it, thinking the heat is on, but you're wrong. The driver doesn't seem to mind the cold, because inside the taxi, the temperature is the same as outside.

Remus, attentive as always, notices you shivering.

"Here," he shrugs off his jacket and puts in around your shoulders, before you can even protest.

"Rem, thank you, but are you sure, you won't mind? I don't want you to be cold, too," you frown at him worriedly.

"I'm not cold, don't worry, dove. Just keep it," he smiles warmly at you, making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. And fuck, the pet name almost makes you pass out.

The sight of you in his jacket is doing no good for Remus either, he feels like he's been hit by a hammer over and over again, making him dizzy.

"Besides, you might as well keep it. It looks like hundred times better on you," he bravely compliments you and your heart almost does a flip from it.

Your cheeks go embarrassingly red and you both stay quiet with little smiles on, until it's your time to get out of the car.

"Goodnight, Remus, thank you for seeing me off," you give him a quick hug and get out.

You are hallway up the stairs to your apartment, when you hear his voice.

"Y/N, please wait," he catches up to you, his hand gently grabs yours.

"What is it-" your questions gets interrupted by his lips on yours. The only thought on your mind is that how soft they feel, but from the surprise of it, you don't kiss him back.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have, I'm sorry-" he worriedly spills out and swiftly turns around to leave. You don't let him, it's your turn to grab his arm and kiss him.

Remus handles the shock of it better than you and kisses you back hard.

When you finally pull away, you are both smiling like some crazy idiots.

"I wanted do this for so long," he confesses, sheepishly. Running his hands through your hair, putting some loose strands away from your pretty face.

"Me, too," you say, " I guess, we are both stupidly oblivious, huh?"

You and Remus laugh," yeah, we are. But not anymore."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely. I like you, like a lot, if you haven't realised it by now," Remus whispers as he caresses your cheek softly.

"I like you too," you grin at him, very happy from the not so new information. It feels so good to finally be able to say it to him.

"Good." He says, smiling and leans in to kiss you warmly again.

[dirtyslag96]

Idiots in love-James Maguire

Pairing: James Maguire/fem!reader

Rating: PG-16

Words: 1,331 words

Warnings: Fluff, Lying, Curse words, use of Y/N, love interests being idiots in love and oblivious to eachothers love for the other, not proof read

Synopsis: You notice James subtly trying to get your attention and you're not sure why, so you try to find out as you perhaps started developing feelings for the Brit. you're sure of one thing, and that no matter how hard you had tried to lie, he will find out.

My Masterlist

a/n: based on prompt #1018 from this list (“Shut up, I’m trying to confess my love to you.”) ". requested by @themallonbisexualmess , also I would appreciate some tips since I'm still new to writing fics, also dialogue between the five will be characterised by the colour, Y/N, Orla, Erin, James, Michelle, Clare

The first day you met James you considered him quite odd, not only because he was English but also he was attending an all girls school and was somehow Michelle Mallon's cousin.

All six of you were sat at Erin and Orla's house after school playing board games when suddenly the home telephone rings.

"would someone go get that its making me deaf for Christ's sake", said Erin.

"Gerry make yourself useful would ya", announced Joe, clearly annoyed by Erin's father.

Gerry looked confused but nevertheless walked over to answer, "Hello?, Yeah she's right here", a couple of seconds later, "I'll let her know"

"Y/N, your parents want you back home in 10 minutes"

"Oh, isn't it a bit early? did they tell you why?", you were confused since it was still 9 o'clock and your parents usually have you curfew by 12.

"No, would you like a ride home?", you never understood why Joe hated Erin's dad so much considering he was the most thoughtful and caring one of all your parents.

"For fuck's sake Y/N did you do something?", Michelle alway commented on everything happening.

"Yeah its a bit weird"

"James, how many times have I told you we do not care"

Seeing James' dissapointed face made you even sadder you were leaving early, though you never understood why your mood also often depended on his. Perhaps you had feelings for him? no, you wouldn't believe it even if you did.

"I'll be on my way then, see you tomorrow", involuntarily you felt yourself looking at James. "Thank you Gerry I would appreciate it if you got me a ride home"

"Bye Y/N!", all of them shouted.

"Finally being useful for once", you heard Joe snicker as you left out the door.

The next day, you had told Clare about it, she said that you definitely have some feelings for him, since you trusted Clare's judgement you've started noticing that James mostly starts conversations directly to you. Clare also had pointed out that when the Ukrainian girl showed up hitting on James, that you had been more closed off and easily exasperated than usual.

The six of you were suspended since Michelle and James had broken the statue "The Child of Prague", while arguing so you all had agreed to meet up at Erin's place for the week. Your mix of emotions towards James had led you to unintentionally start avoiding him, surprisingly Michelle and Clare had been subtly trying push you two together. You speculated that Clare must've told Michelle or that they had also felt a drift between you and James.

Orla pulled out a board game that had the six of you pair up into three teams of two, to decide who would be paired together you all wrote your names at placed it in a random jar that Erin found in the kitchen.

"Orla and...", Clare!", Erin said as she was the one who pulled out the names.

"Interesting..", muttered Orla as Clare took in a loud sigh.

"Y/N and..", "James!", was the universe really fucking with you? you look at him, seeing his happy face made you feel things you never expected to feel for James, then you attempted to avert his gaze but soon enough you looked up to his disappointed and baffled face to why you were trying to avoid him.

Michelle noticed the tension between you two so she broke the deafening silence, "So that leaves me n' you Erin, this is rank".

"Start without me I don't feel well I feel like throwing up, I'll be up in the bathroom", in truth you wanted to be as far away from James as you can so you practically dash upstairs to Erin's toilet. The rest of the five looked quite baffled since nothing seemed wrong with you but you have been acting rather weird these past few days.

You heard a pair of footsteps coming up the stairs and you assumed someone had come up looking for you, you heard a knock on the door, you were praying it wasn't him. But then again you heard knocking again and a voice, James' voice "Y/N are you okay in there?".

You had two options either lie and say you were sick or...

"Y/N!", his voice yet again heard, interrupts your train of thoughts, so you slowly walk over to the bathroom door and open it.

"oh.. hey you said you weren't feeling well so I came up here to check on you but you seem fine right now", right now you couldn't have felt any better since he came up here concerned, the way his hair was ruffled yet tidy, the way his accent affected his words, and his voice.

You remained quiet for a long time, "uh-i guess I didnt need to throw up after all", you said as you tried to push past him to get out of the small bathroom that could have suffocated both of you with the amount of tension in the air.

To your surprise he shifted quickly, blocking you and closing the door acting like a shield. "what-"

"no, I don't get it you've been avoiding me! why? did I do something wrong for fuck's sake Michelle even noticed! she asked if I annoyed you but I would never do it on purpose just please tell what is going on!", his outburst surprised since usually he was quiet and self preserved.

"there's nothing wrong James I don't know where you're getting that idea from"

slowly he stepped forward before he spoke, "you are lying, I can tell-"

"I-, what? this is ridiculous James let me out of here!"

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the rest of the group followed James upstairs and are now listening to your conversation through the door.

"No! not until you tell me what's wrong, have I upset you, , I notice everything about you don't you get it Y/N- ?", his face nearly made you crumble, you felt bad for irritating him as much as you are right know but you are not confessing why you have been avoiding him.

"for crying out loud, no James you haven't upset me in any way shape or form, this is stupid-", you were both cutting each other off, he was not letting you lie, while you were trying not to let him catch on to your feelings.

"Would you shut up, I have been trying to confess my emotions of love to you all week, and you have been simply ignoring that do you know how hurt I felt thinking I had upset you or something!”

You were in genuine shock and you were sure you heard a few gasps from outside the door.

"Do you actually feel that way James? because if so then so do I.."

Like magnets, you both came forward pressing your lips together, you felt him smile. Next thing you know the rest of the girls opened the door and saw both of you, they yelled and talked over eachother at the same time

"OH FINALLY!", exclaimed Clare,

"The form of human art always so interesting", Orla muttered as always,

"Congrats?!", Erin was quite unsure of what to say since she found two of her best friends kissing in her bathroom.

"FINALLY! you two took a long time figuring each other's feelings I was tortured by James talking about you all the time, and Clare the poor girl had to endure you talking about James!", you assumed Michelle would hate the idea of one other bestfriends and her cousin being together.

"What the fuck!", you both yelled while slamming the bathroom door closed and hearing giggles not the other end, you and James looked at each other and started laughing.

"You two get back out here I'm still not a hundred percent on the pair of you, but just because I approve doesn't mean you can start fucking"

"Yeah please not inside of my bathroom either!"

fin.