#and I hope that next year me is proud of this year me for continuing to be brave

[saphiccarma]

hiiii!! can you write agatha x pregnant reader (or you can do it with rio x agatha x reader). I haven't really come up with anything interesting, ahaha, but I think it would be cool to see soft agatha with a pregnant reader, especially after all these years since nicky died.

-My baby, my baby

Relationships: Agatha Harkeness x Reader

Summary: After all these years, Agatha has found someone she loves. Loves enough to have a child with.

Warnings: Some angst, but is followed but by fluff. A couple sexual innuendos, birth

A/N: This was so fucking fun to write. I hope it did the request justice and that y'all enjoy!

You met Agatha when you were merely wandering around. She was dressed nicely, her clothes a mix of work and casual. Clumsily, as you tended to be, you bumped into her, her coffee spilling all over the sidewalk and both your shirts. She had cursed, her glare sharp and annoyed, but after you invited her out to get a coffee, it softened. After that the two of you continually went on dates, slowly talking more and more, before it grew into more.

That was a few years ago, and now you lived with her in a nice house in the woods. It was a small cabin miles away from people with a large lake in the back. It was basically your dream home. You had found out she was a witch just a year into that. At first you were shocked, but at the same time it made sense. The way she just knew what you were thinking and how she could just the things you asked for without much problem. The two liked to take advantage of her powers had tested out a certain spell during a night a few weeks ago, one that had left you a sweaty, blushing mess by the end. You didn't think it would have any side effect. But now, sitting in the bathroom, you stared a bright pink plus sign and began to think it had side effects.

Your hand cupped your mouth as tears brimmed your eyes. Being a mother was something that you were not ready for yet. When you were young, your mother was hardly present. Hell she was only there until you turned five and then she handed you off to social servicies, deciding having a kiss was too much work. You had no idea how to be a mother. Most foster mother's hated you, just a few being kind but they were off to work all the time. What if you were a horrible mother?

And Agatha...She had briefly told you about her son, never delving too deep into it, and you never pushed, but you weren't sure if she wanted this. What if she hated you? What if she left? You didn't think you could handle that rejected. Children was a topic the two of you had yet to discuss, always thinking it was far into the future. She had never expressed an interest in a child before-

"Darling," Agatha called. You panicked at the sound of her voice, your entire body locking up. You scrambled up, shutting the bathroom door and locking it. The handle jiggled as Agatha tried to open it, "Darling?"

You blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "I'm showering."

There was a pregnant pause on the other side.

"I've seen you naked before darling if that's what you're about," she paused, her tone confused yet still filled with that playful lilt, "And the water isn't even running."

Clutching the test in your hand, your fingers trembled as you stared at the ground. There were a few beats of silence and you were silently counting in your head, waiting for Agatha to use her magic to open the door. Instead, you were surprised when a note was slid under the door. A faint smile crossed your face. Not long ago, you had told Agatha of how you did this with a foster sister before. She was pissed at you, locking herself in the bathroom, and you had slid notes under the door until she opened it.

You knelt down onto the cold floor. Delicately, you picked up the paper, unfolding it and reading the message: are you mad at me :(

A little laugh escaped you and you could basically see Agatha's proud smile. A pen was rolled under the door next, and you picked it up, scribbling on the paper. No :) :(

You pushed the paper and pen back under the door. Agatha huffed when she read it and you could hear the faint sound of a pen scrapping against the note a she wrote out her next message. Once again, you picked it up as it was slid under the door.

Can I come in? 💜

You smiled at the doodled heart next to the question, but your heart skipped an uncomfortable beat at the words. The pregnancy test sat dauntingly next to you on the floor, you weren't even sure when you had set it down, and it's symbol stared up at you like a taunt. After a moment of hesistance, you wrote your reply on the paper and slid it under the door.

It was opened magically a moment later, Agatha rushing in. She scanned you over as you stood up, taking in your face that and tears shimmering in your eyes. Her eyes flickered around the room before landing on the pregnancy test on the floor.

"Don't be mad," You blurted, "I was going to tell you I promise. I only just found out and-"

Agatha cupped your face and pressed her lips gently onto yours before you could spiral into more anxious rambling, "Shh," she whispered softly, "Calm down." She wrapped her arms around you, letting you bury your face into her neck.

"We're not ready," you sobbed into her neck, "What if- what if-"

"No what if's," she said firmly, swaying back and forth as you tried to quell your inner panic, "It'll be okay."

You whimpered slightly, clinging onto her for support, your knees weak. They gave out and Agatha gently lowered the two of you to the ground, landing on the cold floor that caused you to shiver. Gripping Agatha's shirt tightly, you pressed nose into her neck, soaking up the smell of lavender body wash that lingered there. She whispered soothing words in your ear, rubbing circles onto your back as you cried out your worries. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, one that was grounding and helped ease the worries somewhat.

Being a mother was something that you were not prepared for, not at all.

^______________^

If you were being honest, you weren't sure when the cravings started. It was small, like maybe you wanted peanut buttter when you usally didn't. Then today, when you woke up you realized you wanted some pineapple, a fruit that was never kept in the house, with nutella slathered all over it.

"Can you go get pineapple?" You stood in front of Agatha who was reading on the couch, purple magic dancing between her fingers as she used it to turn the pages, one hand holding the book and the other holding a coffee cup. She raised a brow at your question, glancing up from her reading.

"Pineapple," she echoed softly, "Are we moving to Hawaii soon?" Her quip made blush highlight your cheeks as you pouted.

"No," you mumbled, "But it sounds so good right now."

Agatha sighed in fond annoyance, "Alright. I'll go get pineapple. Is there anything else you want, miss princess?"

"I'm not a princess! I just don't feel like going out!" you protested, pouting up at her. She was just an inch taller than you, but it was enough for her to constantly boast about it. Always bragging she was an inch taller.

Your wife rolled her eyes, pressing an affectionate kiss to your lips before moving to slip her shoes on and grab a purse. She winked at you briefly with a sly smirk before slipping out of the house. Sitting down on the couch, you picked up the book she was reading, eyes scanning over it and a warm blush covering your cheeks at the words written on the book. The sexual scenes. You hadn't even known Agatha was reading this. You hadn't even realized how much time had passed before the front door clicked shut and you were slamming the book closed with wide eyes and a fierce red on your cheeks.

Agatha eyed you suspiciously as she entered the living room on her way to the kitchen, "What did you do?"

"Nothing," you shook your head furiously, "Absolutely nothing."

"And I'm supposed to believe that?" she scoffed, but pulled a pineapple out of the groccery bag, "Would you like me to chop it up too, princess?"

You blushed at the pet name but didn't have time to protest as she was already grabbing a knife and chopping the pineapple up. It looked absolutely delicious. It wasn't long before you had chunks of pineapple slathered with nutella while sitting on the couch. Agatha had eyed you oddly throughout your preperation of the nutella and made a few teasing remarks but otherwise left you be.

When she picked her book up you realized that you hadn't book marked her page, but rather the page you were on. Looking at you with a smirk, Agatha chuckled slightly.

"Darling, if you wanted to know about my book I could have just shown you," She teased, her voice light and airy.

You spluttered, nearly spitting out the food in your mouth as you blushed furiously, "Agatha!"

She cackled like the witch she was.

^_______________^

It had been three days since you had found out the gender of your child and since that, Agatha had pulled away, retreating outside and away from you . It hurt, stinging like a sharp pain to your heart as you watched her pull away. You knew she was hurting, knowing that your child was a boy, and you had no doubt it brought up painful memories. Still, you wanted to be there for her and you needed her. Being pregnant wasn't easy. Everytime you tried to talk to her, she would make some excuse, her tone clipped and short before sauntering off. You had finally cornered her in the kitchen when preparing a snack.

"Don't you dare try to leave," you warned dangerously.

"I have to-" Agatha tried push past you, taking a step back again when you didn't move.

"No you don't," you shook your head and took a step closer. Tenderly, you grabbed her caloused hands, worn from years of spell casting, and rubbed soft cirlces with your thumb. Agatha flinched but you didn't let her pull away. Your voice was soft murmur, "Talk to me."

There was a large pause on her end. She bit her lip and looked away, jaw clenching. A huff escaped her as she mumbled, barely audible, "I'm scared."

Your heart melted as you heard those words, pulling her into a hug despite her stiff posture. Agatha had always been unsure about physical contact, but you knew she secretly craved it. Placing a lingering kiss onto the top of her head, you let your lip stay there.

"Me too," you whispered, "And while you haven't told me much about your son, not that you have to, I can't imagine how hard this must be. But we'll get through it, we can do it." Despite your own doubts about wether or not you could be a good mother, you knew Agatha could. She may have a clipped and sarcastic personality to those who didn't know her, she was softer when she loved you. Still sarcastic, but her heart softened.

You swayed back and forth like you would for a young child, "Everything will be okay."

Faintly, Agatha sniffled, hardly audible. She squeezed you tight and pressed a tender kiss onto your bare shoulder.

"I love you," she mumbled.

"I love you too."

Her hand rested on your belly bump, and she pulled away slightly, pressing a kiss to it. She smiled up at you, the underside of her eyes shimmering with tears, but her lips curved into a perfect smile as she pressed another kiss to your stomach, "He's going to be my little prince."

^___________^

You clutched Agatha's hand tightly as pain rippled through you. You sat in a hospital bed, blankets shoved to the side, as Agatha sat next to you, her hand tight against yours. Grinding your teeth together, you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Holy fuck," you whispered harshly, scowling at Agatha's small laugh. "It's not funny."

She smiled, gently pushing hair out of your face, "I'm sorry, princess."

You grunted as another contraction tore through you.

"When's the nurse coming back?" You asked, your heels pressed into the thin matress in an attempt to ground yourself.

Agatha hummed softly, "I'm not sure, I can go get her?"

You shook your head, not wanting her to leave, but at the same time you could feel the baby coming closer. Your water had broken not long ago and they were just waiting for it to happen. Although you didn't want her to leave, you nodded your head, reluctantly forcing yourself to release her hand. Agatha was gone for a few long, painful moments, before wandering back in with a midwife and another woman who you assumed was the labor coach. You had done a lot of reading on it. Your wife hurried to your side, immediatelly grabbing hold of your hand.

The midwife examined you, humming softly, "You ready mama?"

Forcing yourself to nod, not that it mattered, this baby was coming either way, you listened to the other nurses instructions. You ground your teeth together, willing yourself not to scream and squeezed Agatha's hand as tight as possible. Your wife whispered soothing words, her eyes fixed onto the midwife.

"Agatha," you panted, sweat beading at your brow, "I'm scared."

"Shh," The witch brushed away stray hair from your sweaty face, "I know me too."

A string of curse words flew out of you as you were instructed to push. A searing pain shot through the lower part of your body. Your wife pressed a soft kiss to your clenched hand, an amused smile flickering across her face at the vile words that left your mouth. She remembered giving birth like it was yesterday, and it was one of the most painful things she had done. Your eyes, opened for just a second, met hers. She smiled encourgingly at you, she knew you would be able to do it.

"I can see the head!" The midwife announced, glancing up very briefly.

You squeezed your eyes shut as pain tore through you and you were told to push. A few moments later, the nurse pulled away with a concerned frown on her face as she held a child in her hands. Agatha opened her mouth, prepared to ask a question, but the labor coach rushed out of the room as the midwife set the baby down on the table. She pressed her hands to his chest, doing tiny little compressions. Your eyes glued to the baby, even as you were panting with sweat coating your face, you found the energy to look at him. Tears shimmered in your eyes, worry replacing all the pain as the nurse worked over him.

You couldn’t lose him, not now, not after all you had done. Not after you and Agatha had decorated the nursery. Painting it a soft baby blue after much debate and tucking a crib in the corner and a rocking chair and oh so many toys for when he got older.

“Blue is such a generic boys color,” Agatha scoffed, her hand flicking to make the walls a pastel purple. You rolled your eyes.

“But it would be so cute,” you pouted up at her, “Please my love?” You kept up your pout until she agreed and the walls were colored a soft blue.

You couldn’t lose him after so many nights where you argued with Agatha because you were grumpy from the pain and she was her usual stubborn self.

“You can sleep on the couch then,” you said, turning around defiantly at crawling into the bed.

Agatha gaped at you, her head pulled back in shock and brows furrowed. She then huffed, turning around with a dramatic flair, “Fine.”

You refused to admit the next morning you missed the warmth of her cuddles and she endlessly complained about the pain in her back.

After all the two of you had gone through, you couldn’t lose him.

You were too focused on your child to notice your wife when her head snapped up and her eyes locked with a familiar figure. Rio stood across the room, clad in a green dress and a sorrowful tint in her eyes. She glanced at Agatha, freezing entirely. The Witch knew she could only see Death because of their past bond, not because the mortals could see her.

"Don't," Agatha whispered harshly, ignoring your confused look, "Don't you dare."

Death froze, her eyes flickering towards the child who wasn't breathing, before her eyes met Agatha's once more. Faintly, almost imperceptible, she nodded. Then she was gone. A sigh of relief escaped Agatha as her child took his first breath. The nurse gasped, a happy one filled with relief, as a doctor and another nurse rushed into the room. They stopped at the nurse's instructions.

When your child let out a large cry, you panicked, glancing at Agatha in concern, "That's what he's supposed to do right?"

"Yeah," Agatha laughed, keeping a careful eye on the midwife as she cleaned your child, "He's supposed to do that."

The nurse carried the child over, naked and bare, but so pure. You took him delicately, cooing at his small form. He was perfect. Cradling him close, you placed the most tender kiss atop his head, and shut your eyes. Pain still throbbed through your body, but your baby was here. He made it.

You looked at Agatha who's eyes were firmly trained on the two of you and offered a soft smile.

"Want to hold him?" your voice was quiet, afraid to disturb the baby.

It took your wife a moment to respond, and you could see the unshed tears in her eyes. Eventually she nodded, her arms stretching out as she took the baby before cradling him to her chest. She gave him the softest smile you had ever seen, her eyes filled with so much adoration.

"My little prince," she whispered, "You made it."

Her finger caressed his face, tracing the baby fat and familiar features of a baby boy. She remembered her own child, her own baby that was so much like him.

"Do you have a name?" the nurse asked, idly putting on gloves.

The two of you had decided on a name together, one that had been discussed over many months of pondering.

"Nikoli."

[paucubarsisimp]

pleaseee do a best friends to lovers with cubarsi🥹🥹

sorry it took so long! it was my birthday and i was traveling but here it is!

pau cubarsi x reader

fluff!

pau was your very best friend, you had known each other since you were in your nappies. so when he asked to hang out at the park, you thought nothing of it and went to meet him. you wore a cute summer dress and put your hair in a half up half down.

“hey pau.” you grinned as you gave the brunette boy a hug.

“hola mi reina.” (my queen) pau responded as he led you to a more secluded spot with less people. you gasped in surprise when you saw a blanket with fruits, sandwiches and drinks on it.

“what’s up?” you asked as you gently lifted up the skirt of your dress to sit down next to pau as he wrapped an arm around your waist and the two of you leaned against a tree.

“i wanted to ask you a question.” pau responded, rubbing the back of his head.

“yeah? go on…” you encouraged.

pau wanted to ask you out. he really did. but seeing you in person, all dressed up he suddenly got cold feet.

“i-i wanted to ask you… if you wanted to come to madrid for the el classico with me!” pau blurted.

“really?” your face lit up. “would you really take me?”

“yeah! i already bought tickets for you! you’ll sit next to mikky and natalia.” pau had already bought tickets for you, but he was hoping you’d be his girlfriend by then.

“i would love to come mi corazón.” (my heart)

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

yourusername updated their story!

(pretend it’s a cubarsi jersey)

you sat down in between mikky and natalia, giving them both a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“so… how’s your crush on pau?” mikky asked, wiggling her eyebrows as natalia giggled. those two were the only ones you told about your crush on the 17 year old boy.

you rolled your eyes, blushing as you nudged her arm to stop the teasing.

the match started and by halftime, mbappe had scored an offside goal and the score was still 0-0.

once the game restarted, lewandowski managed to score two goals causing you and the girls to scream and cheer. you made eye contact with pau as he blew you a soft kiss. you blushed a deep red as mikky and natalia cackled at the shade of your cheeks.

the game continued and by the 90th minute, raphinha and lamine had scored a goal each.

the final whistle blew and the red and blue crowd erupted in cheers. the blaugrana players jumped on each other as they celebrated. natalia grabbed your hand as she led the three of you down to the field. you looked around for pau and when your eyes finally met his, his face lit up even more. you rushed down and pau ran towards you.

in an instant, you were in the air with paul’s hands on your waist. he hugged you tight and you kissed his forehead multiple times.

“so so proud of you mi amor.” you mumbled. he set you down and you looked deep into his eyes before cupping his face and smashing your lips onto his. unbeknownst to you and pau, the other players and wags erupted in cheers as they saw the two of you kiss. you two reluctantly pulled apart and you rested your forehead on his while breathing heavily. suddenly, you started giggling causing pau to giggle. he brought you into a soft embrace before rocking you from side to side.

“be my girlfriend? please?” he mumbled into your ear.

“well… if you insist.” you shrugged before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“finally man!” hector grinned as he slapped pau’s back.

“was kinda getting tired of you talking about her all the time.” lamine joked.

pau blushed a deep red.

“she wasn’t very different at all either. always talking about how sweet he is.” mikky grinned as she came up behind you.

the team continued dancing around while you and pau continued holding each other and staring into each others eyes.

“tot el camp…” he whispered in your ear as he brought you closer.

the end!

lmk if there any mistakes :)))

requests are open btw!!! feel free to request any football player and i’ll get to it asap!

[roses-red-and-pink]

I just want to thank me from a year ago for being so brave, and God for helping me be brave

[fastandcarlos]

Since Day One : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: since the very beginning you’ve been by lando’s side supporting his career

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, georgerussell63 and 3,850 others

landonorris: goodbye karting, thank you for everything. looking forward to getting into the world of formula racing next year ❤️

382 comments

username1: can’t believe you’re moving on from karting, big things are coming!

ynusername: so proud of you, even if I’m gutted not to be riding around in a go kart every week from now on 💔

landonorris: @/ynusername you haven’t seen nothing yet, just wait for those f1 hot laps 😘

username2: only a matter of time until we see you line up on that f1 grid now ☺️

charles_leclerc: end of a karting era, but hopefully many more races for us to come!

landonorris: @/charles_leclerc we’ll both be on that podium one day…I’m sure of it!!

username3: so deserving of the new things coming your way ❤️

georgerussell63: hopefully be lining up on the grid with you very soon 🤞🏻

olivernorris1: congrats bro, looking forward to the free trips to some more hot destinations 😂☀️

landonorris: @/olivernorris1 and here i was thinking you were flying out to support me…

username4: still gonna be your biggest fan!!

maxverstappen1: about time you gave someone else a go at winning a karting race 😂

username5: can’t wait to see where you go from here 🫶🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by alex_albon, charles_leclerc and 13,968 others

landonorris: buzzing to get my first formula 2 win, thanks to the whole team for all your support so far this season. hopefully the first of many 💪🏻🏆

1,840 comments

ynusername: you’re incredible, my race winner 🥺

landonorris: @/ynusername can’t wait to show this trophy off to you when I get home 💞

username6: first win of many gotta good feeling for this season ❤️

charles_leclerc: turns out you’re just as good at karting as you are formula 2 😂👏🏻

username7: so deserved lando, hope you celebrate hard tonight!

georgerussell63: yes lando!! a jolly good race indeed my friend 🏆

username8: a white race suit and champagne, someone in the team needs speaking to 🤦🏻‍♀️

alex_albon: someone get zak brown on speed dial asap 📞

landonorris: @/alex_albon let’s not get too excited, it’s only one race…so far!

alex_albon: @/landonorris the first of many my friend!

username9: if driver of the day was a thing, you’d get my vote 🤩

username10: that smile is my new favourite thing in the world!!

adam_norris_pure_electric: good job son, so proud of you back over here at home 🤍

username11: can’t wait to see how many more wins you get this year 🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, alex_albon and 58,402 others

landonorris: first couple of weeks with mclaren done, safe to say carlando is off to a good start 😝🧡

9,497 comments

username12: carlando are officially my otp btw 🧡🫶🏻

charles_leclerc: it’s a miracle you two get anything done when you’re in the same room!

username13: i can already tell this pairing is gonna be trouble!!

alex_albon: looks like you don’t need me anymore 😭

landonorris: @/alex_albon team rookies forever 💯

username14: whoever decided that these two should be on the same team deserves a pay rise immediately 😂

mclaren: admin thanks you both for constantly giving her such a headache 🧡

username15: have you ever met two more well paired drivers in your life??

ynusername: *currently googling what to do when you feel like the third wheel in your own relationship…*

carlossainz55: @/ynusername he’s mine now 😘

landonorris: @/ynusername ignore him, I promise you’re still my number one 💞

username16: forever refreshing my feed in search of carlando content 🥺

username17: can we get these two to sign lifetime contracts at all!?

zbrownceo: you’ve been awesome so far and ik you’ll continue to be too!

username18: i love how carlos us taken lando completely under his wing in f1 😭

carlossainz55: couldn’t imagine my life without you sweetie ❤️

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 stop otherwise you’ll make yn jealous again!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 28,048 others

ynusername: finally managed to get to my first f1 race, so proud to see you do your thing in person lan 💞

2,960 comments

landonorris: so glad you were able to come and cheer me on, you’re definitely a good luck charm now 🫶🏻

username19: you looked stunning in the paddock, lando is one lucky guy!!

alex_albon: you’re not allowed to leave it so long next time, I didn’t realise how much i missed you!!

carmenmmundt: so happy to finally meet you, hopefully see you again soon girlie!

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt who cares what the boys say, we’re double dating asap 🫶🏻

username20: you two are just beyond stunning together 🤩

charles_leclerc: i still remember you being one of a handful of people watching us in karts all those years ago 💭

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc so proud of all you guys 💕

username21: silently praying for a yn appearance at every race from here on in 🙏🏻

carlossainz55: still secretly think you were coming to spy on me 👀

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 gotta find a way to stop you stealing my boyfriend somehow…

username22: from karting to f1, she’s really been by his side through it all!

mclaren: thank you for helping us keep lando under control for the weekend - admin 🧡

username23: hope you had the best time yn 💞

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 174,494 others

landonorris: first podium baby 🏆🥳

thank you to everyone in austria and back at the mtc for all your hard work. fans, friends, family and yn for always cheering me on and reminding me that i can do this 💕🧡

38,508 comments

username24: I don’t think I’ve ever been this proud in my entire life 🥺

alex_albon: the little go karter on an f1 podium 🤧

username25: idk how you did it but that was incredible, fastest lap too!!

carlossainz55: I feel like a proud father rn 🥺

username26: thank you for reminding us that mclaren can achieve podiums again 🧡

maxverstappen1: gutted I couldn’t be up there with you today

landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 next time we’ll be up there together like the old days!

mclaren: everyone at mclaren is so proud of you lando 🧡🏎️

username27: only got the podium thanks to a time penalty anyway 🙄

username28: @/username27 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻

ynusername: have I mentioned yet just how proud I am of you?? 💞

username29: love how he gave a special mention to yn too 🥺

zbrownceo: the perfect stepping stone to get you to p1, I know we can do it 💪🏻

username30: hope you get used to being up on that podium, you’re gonna be there often!

georgerussell63: super drive buddy!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, lilymhe and 38,497 others

ynusername: turns out monaco is the life after all, a whole new world but absolutely loving it 🥺

4,969 comments

username31: just goes to show just how much lando means to you remember!

landonorris: thank you for making such a huge sacrifice for me, i promise we’ll have the best time living out here together 😘

ynusername: @/landonorris anything to help make your dreams come true ✨

username32: look at them out here living their best lives

carmenmmundt: our next coffee date is when??? ☕️

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt I’m omw to you rn 🏃🏻‍♀️

alexandrasaintmleux: @/ynusername @/carmenmmundt make that three 🫶🏻

username33: the muscles in that first photo, yn you can’t do that to us without warning…

georgerussell63: thank you for finally giving me some proper competition playing padel 🏸

ynusername: @/georgerussell63 I did try to warn you that lando was rubbish

username34: yn always happy to satisfy the boyfriend lando fans ✨

adam_norris_pure_electric: we are so relieved that you’re out there with him 😂

ynusername: @/adam_norris_pure_electric this apartment would not still be standing without me 😂

username35: I cannot stress how obsessed I am with these two!!

maxverstappen1: I love that you’re now on our doorstep so I can constantly annoy you 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 42,950 others

ynusername: first holiday in a while with you 🛥️🏝️

7,597 comments

carlossainz55: missing my two favourite people right now

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 thank you honorary third wheel 😘

username36: no one deserves this rest more than you two 💞

danielricciardo: it’s not a true holiday cause I’m not there 🤷🏻‍♂️

landonorris: @/danielricciardo that’s what makes it such a good holiday

username37: summer break looks good on you two!!

maxverstappen1: so glad you guys are enjoying that place!

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 thanks for such a great reccomendation! ☺️

username38: remember when everyone was obsessed with these two as karting teens, now look at them… 😭

oscarpiastri: shame he doesn’t look like he’s missing me at all 💔

iamrebeccad: wishing that I could look as good as you rn 🥺

username39: it’s not fair how good two people can look…

landonorris: the best time away with you 💕

username40: forever refreshing my feed for another gorgeous update of these two

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 2,968,573 others

landonorris: the moment I’ve dreamt of for so many years, officially a race winner! thank you to every single person who has contributed to my career over the years, this one’s for you 🏎️🧡🏆

458,360 comments

username41: apologies to my neighbours for screaming so loud the entire street could hear

ynusername: wish I could’ve been there more than anything, can’t wait to celebrate with you when you’re home 💞

landonorris: @/ynusername I still felt you here cheering me on 🫶🏻

oscarpiastri: awesome drive, the only way for us right now is up

↗️

landonorris: @/oscarpiastri we’re chasing them down brother 💪🏻

carlossainz55: I always knew this moment would come one day for you 👏🏻

username42: asking for a friend…is it acceptable to cry when it’s not even you on the podium???

danielricciardo: about damn time 😂 super race today brother!!

username43: words can’t begin to explain how proud I am to be your fan lando norris

alex_albon: who’d have thought those two kids almost a decade ago would end up here 🥺

username44: so proud of how far you’ve come since the beginning lando!

zbrownceo: could barely contain myself on the pit lane, congratulations lando 🧡

charles_leclerc: such an honour to be up there with you 🏎️

username45: it’s been a long time coming, hopefully the platform for many more wins now ☺️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 60,597 others

ynusername: second time’s the charm! so proud of you lando and so proud to be there this time cheering you on with all your family. you’re so deserving of this moment…I couldn’t be any prouder of you ✨💕

14,974 comments

landonorris: I could never have got this far without you, thank you for always loving me angel since day one 🧡

georgerussell63: he’s not stopped telling people all weekend how happy he is to have you here btw 😂

username46: how do you two still manage to melt my heart like this!?

lilyzneimer: so happy for lan 👏🏻 and so happy you got to be there to see him win this time too!!

lilymhe: you looked so cute during those celebrations bby

username47: only yn and cisca would stand out in that crowd to surprise him 😂

oscarpiastri: at least I didn’t have to listen to him mope about how much he wanted you there this time

username48: I love the relationship yn has with all his family 🥺

mclaren: admin would also like to reiterate what oscar had to say too 😂

username49: I can’t begin to imagine how excited lando must’ve been to have his whole family there

danielricciardo: was it ever in doubt??

ynusername: @/danielricciardo that’s cause he learnt from the best 😉

username50: you must be so proud yn seeing his hard work firsthand ☺️

carlossainz55: so good to see you and catch up under such awesome circumstances 🧡

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[asahicore]

cold hands - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. plot plot plot what is a plot when you can just have vibes and a vague narrative direction... if you MUST know you go to your brother's hockey team back-to-uni party accidentally matching one of the members with your cowgirl barbie costume. hopelessly romantic sunghoon sees this as a sign that the two of you are meant to be together, but you're impossible to read and soon the two of you settle on an ambiguous secret friends with benefits relationship. unfortunately, conflict ensues.

genre. strangers to friends to fwb to lovers..?? its not an asahicore fic if it doesnt have fluff angst AND smut, brothers best friend, jock x nerd type vibe, slight miscommunication put your pitchforks away and hear me out pls it works out i promise, reader has ISSUES 💜 loser loverboy sunghoon, its mostly in his pov, i know nothing about ice hockey

word count. 39.5k 😂

a/n. inspired by @moonlighthoon's request for the 1k trope event! sorry it took ages to write but i hope you like it and that i met ur expectations!!!! hope everyone else enjoys it too, this is the longest fic ive ever written and im quite proud of it, pls pls pls let me know what u thought <333 shoutout to @zreamy .. good luck with your studies, thank u for beta reading and making this fic exponentially better as u always do ⭐️ credit to @/plutism for the dividers :)

Some men never think of it. You did. You’d come along And say you’d nearly brought me flowers But something had gone wrong.

The shop was closed. Or you had doubts - The sort that minds like ours Dream up incessantly. You thought I might not want your flowers.

It made me smile and hug you then. Now I can only smile. But, look, the flowers you nearly brought Have lasted all this while. - Wendy Cope, Flowers

When Sunghoon falls in love, it usually goes as quickly as it came.

Just to name a few:

There had been Ahn Yujin, whose family had moved next to his when he was twelve, and whose dog got on perfectly with his. His crush on the cute girl next door grew with every walk the four of them took but disappeared the second she ditched him to walk home from school with Na Jaemin. 

A few years later, there had been Bae Sumin, who sat in front of him and always had her hair up in a ponytail he found exceedingly pretty. An appointment at the hairdresser was enough for him to stop liking her, as if his interest in her had been laying in the ten centimeters of hair she had cut off. 

In his junior year of high school, there had been Kim Yerim, a college student that tutored him in Math and English. She was three years older, but that didn’t deter him—what did was the fact that she was dating a college graduate. She showed him a picture once, and the guy had biceps probably twice the size of Sunghoon’s. He thought it was safer to give up on her than to fight such a bulky guy five years his senior. 

The first time it stuck was during his first year of college. She was his coach’s daughter and he liked the way she would smile at him when she came to watch their practice. Sunghoon didn’t like to think about her, mainly because even after she broke his heart, for a while there, he continued to love her. 

So, when he first spots you from across the room at the Welcome Back costume party thrown by his hockey team, unintentionally the Cowboy Barbie to his Cowboy Ken, he tries not to read too much into it. Barbie was a hit this summer, it’s an easy and topical costume, of course there’s a pretty girl wearing the same bright pink cowboy hat he is. It doesn’t mean she’s the love of his life.

Right?

He knows you from the pictures that littered the walls of Minjeong, Yunjin and Chaewon’s apartment last year, from Instagram posts, both yours and your friends’, from your video calls with Jake, who dragged him into the camera’s view. Say hi to my sister, he’d insist, like Sunghoon was a child who didn’t want to greet his great-great-aunt. He’d dip in to say hi as requested, ask how you were, and mumble me too like a fool when you said you heard so much about him and were excited to meet him in real life. 

These are the things Sunghoon knows about you: Jake’s older sister by a year, currently on a year abroad in Rome, studies something fancy like Classics, which he hadn’t known people still did in the twenty-first century, deep attachment to Stardew Valley in first year, rarely seen with the same man twice, very pretty. Absurdly so. He’s also weirdly obsessed over the texts you’ve sent to the group chat he was added to at the beginning of last year—scarce, short, elusive. Never more than two sentences, and always long after the conversation was over. But sometimes you’d send photos and videos out of nowhere, of your adventures or of funny things you saw online, and he always hearted them. He even replied to it sometimes (brave hahas or that’s so cool!s), in hopes that it would make you like him, would make you think, he gets me. 

The two of you have never formally yet because you left for Italy the year he started university. He’s been nervous about meeting you since the first time the group told him about you. 

Now that he is about to, he can hear his heart thumping so loudly in his ears, it drowns out the bass of the music. He’s glad he gets to see you before having to talk to you—he’s not sure he could take in your presence and form coherent words at the same time. He watches you laugh with your friends, the smile lines that form like dimples around your mouth, the strands of hair you keep tucking behind your ear. Then someone joins your group—except it’s not just someone, it’s Minjeong, her denim jacket so often worn he recognises her from the back, and he realizes the people you’re with have been Chaewon and Yunjin this whole time. The three of them have been banging on about you all year, even more so due to the fact that their replacement flatmate was dreadful, a Spanish girl who only hung out with other Spanish exchange students and looked the girls up and down when they tried to invite her out somewhere.

You turn towards Minjeong, and before he knows it, he’s in your line of sight, and your eyes meet. Confusion, then a flash of recognition goes through your eyes. He had been resting his elbow on a countertop, cider bottle in hand and watching you, he realizes, not unlike a creep, but now he stands up straight and looks around him as if you hadn’t just caught him staring. Before he can find a way out, Jake appears by his side and throws an arm around his shoulders, guiding him into the throng of party-goers and, coincidentally, closer to you.

“Dude, you’ll never guess what.”

“What?” Sunghoon says, tone coming out more irritated than he means it to. He’s just had to give up on making a good first impression on you, and he doesn’t even have the time to think of a way to redeem himself. When he dares to look back at you, your eyes are already on him, a small smile on your lips. You probably hate him already.

“My sister is dressed just like you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you guys came together or something. Hey, guys!” Jake calls out, and all of a sudden, it’s not just your eyes on him, it’s everyone’s. Well, to be fair, they’re also looking at Jake. But you’re only looking at Sunghoon, and he can’t look away from you either, can’t even manage the politeness to hug everyone in greeting like Jake is doing now. He watches as your eyes rake over his figure, taking him in, assessing him, and he suddenly feels awkward in his costume that matches yours, like he’s somehow overstepped a boundary, like you might think he’s asked around about your costume, found out you were going as Barbie and decided to match you so you’d think the two of you were meant together, like he had two minutes ago, and come to the fairly reasonable decision that he was the weirdest man on Earth. But then you meet his eyes, smile a kind, genuine smile, and his whole body relaxes. 

“Hey, Hoon!” Chaewon calls, arms open wide. He remembers himself and hugs everyone, even you, and he has to pretend like this is completely fine and normal, like his hands aren’t practically shaking as his arms circle your shoulders in a two-second embrace. 

You squeeze one of his shoulders, and keeping his countenance is a Herculean task. He feels like those people centuries ago who passed out at the sight of a lady’s ankle. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” you say, peering at him over the rim of your red cup. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Sunghoon feels the blush growing on his face; he wasn’t expecting so much of your attention so quickly. He takes a swig of his lukewarm cider, hoping if he seems drunk, it might explain his redness. “Good things, I hope,” he says, aware of the unoriginality but unable to come up with anything better.

“Oh, don’t worry, they’ve made you out to be a saint.” You’ve not once broken eye contact or stopped smiling—it should intimidate him, but instead, it makes Sunghoon feel like you’ve known each other for ages and that this isn’t your first conversation at all. He finds himself able to relax into a smile, and manages to meet your eyes for more than three seconds at a time.

“You don’t believe them?”

You pause, gaze zeroing in on him even more intensely than previously, smile turning smirk-like. Sunghoon’s heart skips a beat. Okay, maybe he’s not that relaxed. “I don’t know you well enough to make up my mind yet. But we’ll be seeing plenty of each other from now on, won’t we?”

This is exactly what Sunghoon has been warned about. You at parties, the way you look at guys, the way you talk to them. Sunghoon has been the audience of more than one recreation of such a scene, Yunjin pretending to be you, Chaewon pretending to be your “victim,” as the others liked to call them. Because once you had set your eyes on a man, he had little chance of making it out. Jay prides himself as being the only survivor, although he has to admit it’s only because Jake interrupted your conversation, telling him, “I see you’ve met my sister.” And Jay was not the kind of person that got off with their friends’ siblings, especially since his and Jake’s friendship was only a week long at that point, and he didn’t want to ruin the atmosphere in their dorm for the rest of the year just because his dick had gotten the best of him. His words. Whenever they were all hanging out together and they called you, one of the girls would inevitably ask if you had “turned any Italian boys into men” or if you had been “terrorizing the good men of Rome recently.” You would either roll your eyes or say this was not a conversation to be had in front of your brother.

Sunghoon had been sure they were exaggerating—it takes two to tango, as they say, and it wasn’t like you ensnared innocent men into your trap. They had to be willing, to want something from you just as much as you wanted something from them. He’d also gotten them to admit it wasn’t that frequent, that you weren’t looking for a new prey every party, just once in a while when you found someone you liked. (He’d been very quiet when Jay asked why he was trying so hard to defend you.)

But now that he is on the receiving end of your alluring smiles, he starts to understand how one could fall for you without meaning to. He knows he can’t — Jake probably wouldn’t take to it kindly, and he didn’t want to spoil the dynamic of his best group of friends at uni — but he has a feeling that ten minutes of talking to you would be enough to shake his resolve.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure we will. Jake said you studied a lot, but I’m sure we’ll get to hang out. All of us, I mean,” he quickly adds, lest you think he’s already asking you to hang out one-on-one. Sunghoon would not be that forward.

“Of course. I have to see if you did a good enough job replacing me for a year.” Sunghoon’s eyes widen, and before he can blurt out something weirdly laudatory like “I could never replace you, I would never even try, I don’t know you but you’re clearly far superior to me in every aspect and I could never even claim to fill your spot,” you giggle and tell him it’s just a joke. “If anything, I’m happy Jake has managed to make a new friend that he didn’t meet through me, that loser,” you say, and together, you laugh at Jake’s loserness, a topic that will never fail to amuse Sunghoon, although he’s not faring much better in that department. 

“Like, look at him right now,” you say, jerking your head in Jake’s general direction, somewhere behind Sunghoon’s shoulder—and that’s when he realizes that it’s just the two of you standing there, the others gone without him even noticing. Sunghoon turns around, finding the girls, Jay, and a bunch of other people he vaguely recognizes huddled around Jake. They all start chanting his name as he gulps down a giant red cup of beer, then raises the empty cup over his head in victory and crumples it, beaming at the people around him. 

“What is he doing?” Sunghoon asks, laughing at his friend.

“Jay called him over for a beer-off,” you explain. After a beat, you ask, “You didn’t notice?”

The implications are clear in your tone and in your eyes. In the smile playing on your lips, just shy of being a smirk. You didn’t notice because of me, is what you’re really telling Sunghoon—at least, that’s the impression he’s getting. And you’d be right. He was too busy talking to you and trying his best not to make a fool of himself to notice his friends leaving, too engrossed with you to register the sudden disappearance of four people. Across the room, where people have shifted their attention to yet another hockey player downing a sizable amount of beer, he catches Chaewon’s eyes, and she winks at him. Of course—leave it to Chaewon, to whom Sunghoon once made the mistake of drunkenly rambling about how pretty you looked in your Instagram posts last year, to give you and Sunghoon some time alone, “to get to know each other properly,” she would probably say. Although he isn’t sure that small talk over 2000s music counts as getting to know someone. According to the others, she and Yunjin started dating a month into their second year, so Chaewon has proclaimed herself as the goddess of dating and is now always trying to set people up. Sunghoon thinks she’s just living vicariously through her friends now that she has a Mrs. at home.

Because the filter usually at work between the part of Sunghoon’s brain where sentences are formed and his mouth is apparently on leave today, he says, “I do have a pretty distracting sight in front of me.” He’s immediately both mortified and impressed by this sudden bout of confidence, but then you look down and giggle, actually giggle, the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and only pride remains. 

“So, Ken?” you ask, a cute attempt to change the subject, taking the fabric of the pink bandana around his neck between your fingers. Sunghoon wonders if you’re going to yank him down to your level, and he thinks he wouldn’t have much of a problem with that. 

He realizes that even though you should technically know each other’s names, you haven’t actually exchanged them, so in a confused but correcting tone, he says, “Um, Sunghoon.” He only belatedly realizes that you hadn’t gotten his name wrong, you were just making a comment on his costume, which he had completely forgotten he was wearing in the first place. Just as he’s about to backtrack and salvage what he can of the situation, you burst into laughter, hand leaving his bandana to cover your mouth as he hides his face behind his own hands, laughing along with you despite himself. 

“I know your name is Sunghoon!” you exclaim. The gratification of hearing you say his name takes away some of his embarrassment. “I’m Y/N, by the way. Not Barbie.”

Sunghoon nods. “Good to know.”

The laughter gradually dies down, but your smile stays the same; wide, bright, a smile that exposes your teeth and turns your eyes into crescents. Sunghoon can’t look away. He’s awash with nerves, your gaze simultaneously planting his feet to the ground like they’re full of lead and making him light-headed. His heart is beating so fast, he can barely feel it anymore. 

The two of you stand there, looking and smiling at each other, like in a cliché movie scene where everyone else at the party seems to fade into the background. He has no idea how much time has passed when you break the silence. “It really is nice to finally meet you,” you say, repeating your statement from earlier, as though you mean it more now. 

“It is,” Sunghoon simply replies, because he doesn’t know how else to express the relief of seeing you in the flesh after hearing about you and looking at a digital version of you for a year. The relief, but also the anticipation of what is to come now that he knows he likes you even more now that he’s actually seen you. And improbable as it sounds, you might even feel the same.

Sunghoon can already feel it. The beginning of something.

You nod towards his now empty cup. “Want a refill?”

Together, you make your way through the crowd of increasingly drunk students until you reach the kitchen, where the countertops overflow with open bottles of liquor of all sorts and paper plates with half-eaten pizza slices on them. He watches your every move as you find a cold bottle of beer in the fridge, a bottle of strawberry syrup in a random cupboard that you had to know was there, and a half-empty discarded bottle of lemonade on the counter. You ask him to tell you about last year, everything you missed out on, and so he does. He knows you’ve probably heard it all from the others before, but you still laugh and gasp like it’s the first time you’re hearing about any of it, all the hockey games they won, Jay getting food poisoning from the sketchy pizzeria he kept eating at, Yunjin almost getting into a fistfight with a man twice her size who was flirting with Chaewon. 

You assemble two drinks and hand him one of them. When he takes a sip, his eyes widen at the refreshing and sweet taste. “Good, right?” you say. “I discovered it on a trip to France last summer.”

“Thank God for France. I think that’s the first time I’ve ever enjoyed drinking beer,” he says.

“That’s probably because you can’t taste the beer at all.”

Sunghoon smiles. “Probably, yeah.”

You turn around, lower back against the counter, and take in the current kitchen population. “We really weren’t very original with our costumes tonight.” Sunghoon, who had not taken his eyes off of you this entire time, follows your gaze. He counts five partygoers dressed in some version of Barbie or Ken, and that’s just the kitchen. He doesn’t blame them—the fact that so many people came dressed in costumes at all impresses him, especially for a party on the 10th of September and not the 31st of October. The social committee of the hockey team just seems to really love themed and dress-up parties.

He chuckles, then takes a sip of his drink. It’s really nice. “Yeah, but we look the best.”

Your head whips towards him, eyes glinting with something that makes Sunghoon smile, even though he doesn’t know what you’re thinking. “Should we enter the couple’s costume contest?” you ask.

At the mention of couple, his eyes widen, his brain tricking him into thinking you’ve asked him out for a second. But when what you actually meant dawns on him, the first thing to come out of his mouth is, “There’s a couple’s costume contest?!”

“Mh-hm. The sign-up sheet should be around here.” 

For what feels like the millionth time since he’s started talking to you, his face heats up. “Are non-couples allowed to enter?”

“We’re Barbie and Ken. I’d say that’s enough of a couple, don’t you think?” 

Right. Because he had been thinking of Sunghoon and Y/N, while you obviously meant Barbie and Ken. In the contest, it doesn’t actually matter whether the contestants are dating in real life—it matters that their costumes match. Sunghoon knows that. He just needed a second.

He grins, deep dimples punctuating his cheeks. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Armed with your drinks, you walk around the kitchen in search of the sign-up sheet. You find it on a wall next to the dining table, which has been turned into a beer pong table for tonight’s festivities, and the sheet is almost filled with names already. Sunghoon can only hope that by midnight, when the contest is set to take place, most participants will have had too much to drink to remember it. You write your names on the list, and Sunghoon likes seeing his name in your handwriting so much he almost wants to take a picture.

“There you guys are!”

You both turn around to find Jake stumbling towards you, clearly more intoxicated than when he had left you half-an-hour ago. He rests his arms on your shoulders, forcing Sunghoon down to his height and making you stumble forwards from the sudden added weight. “I’ve been looking all over for you- You’re entering the contest?!”

For a split second, Sunghoon is scared he’s going to get scolded by Jake for trying to hit on his sister, but surprisingly, it’s you he narrows his eyes at. “Y/N, what are you roping my little Hoonie into?”

Sunghoon groans, face perpetually red at this point. Leave it to Jake to make him seem like a total loser. 

You frown at your brother. “I’m not roping your little Hoonie into anything.” Sunghoon wants to bury himself alive. “We agreed on doing it together. Right?” you ask, turning towards Sunghoon and batting your eyelashes at him. It makes him feel a bit better.

He turns back to Jake. “Right. We’re just joining forces to crush the competition.”

Jake scoffs. “As if.” He snatches the pen from your hands and underlines his name as well as Kazuha’s, the girl he came with tonight, three thick black lines that almost erases the names underneath them. “You can’t beat the hockey player and cheerleader combo.”

“Those aren’t even costumes, you guys are a hockey player and a cheerleader,” you protest.

“So?” Jake simply retorts, more attitude in his tone than he would have were he sober.

“So, that defeats the whole purpose of a costume contest.”

Jake knocks on your cowboy hat, and you immediately put it back in place, glaring at him. “As if Barbie was the greatest costume ever. Whatever, let’s just play beer pong so I can defeat you guys twice in one night.”

“You’re on, Sim.”

“You’re going down, Sim.”

Sunghoon had just been watching your back-and-forth amusedly when you grab his hand, leading him to the side of the table opposite Jake. His fingers tingle under your touch, but just like that, it’s gone. He’d rather keep on holding your hand than play this stupid game, but he isn’t opposed to taking Jake’s ego down a notch, either. The boy can barely stand straight, anyway, so it probably won’t be a very tough match.

Some guy he doesn’t recognize in a striped black-and-white referee t-shirt fills most cups with beer and a couple on each side with shots of vodka—he’s so earnest, Sunghoon isn’t sure whether he’s just taking his costume-slash-role very seriously or if he has genuinely been hired to look over the beer pong matches of the night. Some order in the brutish world of college parties, Sunghoon guesses.

Minjeong, Yunjin, Chaewon and Jay appear then, exchanging a quick look at the sight of you and Sunghoon together. The two former join your team, while the two latter join Jake’s, as well as other people that Sunghoon vaguely recognizes from other parties. But by the simple action of getting behind him, they become his most trusted allies for at least this part of the night.

You’re a terrible shot, but Sunghoon makes up for it by scoring almost every round. In his defense, he only misses when you come up close to him and whisper in his ear which cup he should go for. Your breath tickles his (oddly sensitive) ears and the combined scents of the strawberry and lemonade on your tongue and your delicate perfume make his head spin. He can barely think straight, so his aim is naturally thrown off—other than that, he makes Jay drink a healthy amount of beer. He almost feels bad for his friend, but he’d arrived late at the party and needed to quickly catch up with everyone’s level of ebriety anyway.

When the opposite team is down to their last cup, a lightning bolt of luck strikes you, and your ball disappears straight into the vodka-filled cup that Jake now has the honor of downing. 

Sunghoon gives you no time to celebrate, to gloatingly pump your fists in the air and point a mocking finger at your brother, because as soon as you make the shot, he wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you off the ground. When you’re on your feet again, you spin around to find a proud-looking Sunghoon beaming down at you. You burst into giggles and high-five him, your palms perfectly clapping against each other, and he threads your fingers together. A current of electricity rushes through him, and for a second, he swears it’s just the two of you in this packed room.

The moment is cut short by the loud cheers of the others on your team as they shake your shoulders and raise their hands for you to high-five them too. Minjeong flips the other team off and Yunjin has to go hug Chaewon and reassure her it’s nothing personal. It’s really quite easy to make college students happy—or devastated. 

You raise your eyebrows at Jake, who’s busy glaring at you instead of accepting his defeat and taking his shot. With a begrudging sigh, he tips his head back and drinks the vodka in one gulp, the cheers doubling in volume when his face scrunches at the bitter taste of the liquor.

“Don’t act so proud,” he scolds you. “Sunghoon carried your team.”

“Maybe, but she made us win in the end,” Sunghoon retorts, putting an arm around your shoulder. 

Jake scoffs, frowning at Sunghoon’s hand placement before eye-rolling his gaze away. “Whatever.” He slides his phone out of his back pocket and smiles as he shows the two of you his screen. “Would you look at the time? The contest is starting soon.” Then, with an accusatory finger pointed at you, adds, “You may have won this battle, but I’m winning the war.”

He stomps away, presumably to find Kazuha before the contest starts, and it’s your turn to eye-roll at his dramatics. You grab Sunghoon’s hand that hangs off of your shoulders, and together, make your way through the crowd again to the garage, where the contest is taking place. All the alcohol he’s been drinking has definitely started kicking in by now, and he finds himself giggling at nothing with you.

When you reach the threshold, still hand in hand, Sunghoon stops so abruptly behind you that you almost stumble. You look back at him, then follow his gaze towards the garage and the sheer amount of people in there. Worriedly, his eyes take in every single one of the contenders. You let go of his hand and stand in front of him, placing your hands on his shoulders and putting on a determined expression. You’d almost look like a parent reassuring their kid before their first day of kindergarten if you weren’t so much shorter than him. “Don’t even worry about them, Sunghoon. We look better than anyone here.”

His eyebrows crease. “There’s like, three other Barbie-Ken couples here. Some of these costumes are so original. And do you see their makeup? Is that even possible?” he asks, staring at a couple in scarily realistic cosplay of Simon and Jeanette from Alvin and the Chipmunks, fur and all. He can’t look at them for too long without getting chills.

You shake your head. “Almost everyone here is either a hockey player or a… hockey-affiliated person. You’re the beloved and talented defenseman of the team and I’m the star player’s sister. They’ll love us,” you say with a smile, watching the worry dissipate from his features.

“We’re like nepo babies,” he whispers. His lips break into a grin when your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I don’t know how nepotism works,” he admits, smiling wider when you burst into laughter. “How do you know if I’m talented, anyway? You haven’t seen me play yet.”

Your eyes rake him up and down appreciatively. “I took a wild guess.”

Not unlike a cartoon character, Sunghoon audibly gulps. As a hockey player since his most tender age, and dare he say, a pretty good-looking guy, he is used to girls flirting with him, and he is even hit sometimes by the occasional lightning strike of confidence that allows him to flirt back (he still can’t believe he managed to call you “a distracting sight” without spontaneously combusting). But there’s something in your eyes, in your smile, in the way you talk—something about you that has his breath hitching and his heart racing. He doesn’t know if he wants to run away and hide in a corner or kiss you right then and there.

Heeseung, the captain of the hockey team, announces into a microphone (which Sunghoon wonders where they got the money for) that the contest will start now, so he can neither kiss you nor run away. Instead, he follows you to the side of the room where all the contestants, including Jake and Kazuha, wait for their names to be called out. There are so many participants, it takes way longer than Sunghoon would like for the two of you to step onto the makeshift stage. Judging by the looks on the audience’s faces, everyone is surprised to see you and Sunghoon together—the hockey community at your university may be big, but everyone knows everyone, and gossip travels fast. No one had seen you and Sunghoon together before, for the obvious reason that you hadn’t even met before tonight. But you could be sure that by tomorrow, as silly as it sounds, word will have gone around that you and Sunghoon had participated in a couple costume contest together. 

At least, you give them something of substance to talk about—as you and Sunghoon pose on stage, wearing your brightest smiles to please the crowd, you stand on your toes and press a kiss to Sunghoon’s cheek. Sunghoon’s eyes burn a hole in the side of your face but you just watch as the audience of drunken 20-somethings goes wild over something as simple as a peck on the cheek. Jake is the only one booing. 

Sunghoon is still in shock when the next couple is called forward and you have to step off. His cheeks are redder than before and he can’t quite meet your eyes. Apparently, he also goes wild over something as simple as a peck on the cheek. You nudge his shoulder. “See, I told you they’d like us.” 

He feels like a fourteen-year-old for it, but Sunghoon can’t stop thinking about your soft lips against his cheek, so much so that he barely says a word as the three judges deliberate. If you notice the sudden change in his behavior, you don’t comment on it, perhaps chalking it up to nerves. He’s glad for it—he doesn’t know if he could handle being teased about it, especially from you. Although he’s not sure he wants you to think he’s the kind to stress over a last-minute Halloween costume contest. 

In the end, you don’t win. He suspects it was a rigged contest all along: the couple in the unimpressive Edward and Bella costume are friends with one of the judges, probably leading to their anticlimactic victory. At least it isn’t Simon and Jeannette who win, or Kazuha and Jake, even less original than the winners. Anyway, Sunghoon couldn’t care any less. With your hand in his as you walk back to the main room in search of your other friends, he feels like the biggest victor of the night. He doesn’t even mind it when his teammates tease him about his costume and how good the two of you look together—the smile you shoot him makes putting up with it worth it. He tries to think straight, but between the alcohol and your proximity, he feels like you’ve cast a spell on him.

Jake stumbles into your group, three drinks drunker than when Sunghoon last saw him, enthusiastically reporting that a game of spin the bottle is about to start in one of the rooms upstairs, because what every college party needs is a middle-school game to shake things up. None of the guys seem particularly interested until Jake reveals that the cheerleaders are playing. 

Sunghoon looks down at you, laughing when he sees your mildly disgusted moue. “Don’t feel like playing?”

“Not really, no.” Your eyes linger on his face. “There’s only one person here I want to kiss, anyway.”

All capacity for thought leaves Sunghoon’s brain. He just stares back at you blankly, lips slightly agape, willing himself to say something but also terrified that whatever leaves his mouth might make him seem like the biggest loser ever. 

You couldn’t possibly mean him—but did you? Was he the person you wanted to kiss?

As these questions resound through his head, your gaze drops to his lips. There’s his answer. 

His heart beating wildly in its cage, Sunghoon decides to do one smart thing tonight and leans in, slowly but surely closing the gap between the two of you. Then a sudden vibration in the back pocket of his jeans zaps through him like lightning and he jumps back, as if startled out of the trance you had put him in. Shame flooding his cheeks, he checks his phone; it’s the stupid alarm he set himself earlier to make sure he doesn’t get home too late. Midnight, Cinderella-style. 

You scratch the back of your neck as your eyes dart around the room. For the first time tonight, you look embarrassed—Sunghoon is in disbelief at how pretty you look even then. “I, um,” he starts, clears his throat. “I have this thing tomorrow morning, so I can’t stay too long…” he says guiltily.

He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he swears that what he sees on your face is disappointment. It makes him want to take it all back, to stay here with you for as long as you want and forget about tomorrow morning. 

“Oh, right,” you say, nodding. “That’s fine. What thing?”

“Oh.” Sunghoon turns an impossibly deeper shade of red, further resembling the strawberry syrup the more he gets himself in these embarrassing situations with you. “Just… choir. I go to choir on Saturday mornings.” He looks down at his feet like he’s just revealed a secret, shameful part of himself.

You burst into laughter, and Sunghoon is scared for a second that you’re making fun of him, and his feelings are a lot more hurt than they should be by someone he just met. Although, to be fair, you don’t feel like someone he just met.

“That’s so cool! It must be such a nice change from all the dudes on the hockey team,” you say, a sweet, curious smile on your lips. Like you mean what you say. Like you might want to know more.

Sunghoon thinks he just fell in love.

He chuckles. “Yeah. Definitely a nice change. As much as I love hockey, it’s nice to do something calmer, you know. And I like singing. And the cakes the local grandmas bring.”

“So that’s what it’s all about, really.”

“Yep, you caught me.” Sunghoon still feels the almost-kiss lingering, a tension between the two of you that has him on edge. He feels like he’s just missed his bus because it left a minute earlier than planned. The opportunity is gone, and he would definitely mess everything up, trying to kiss you now. So instead, he decides to leave. Whatever must happen, will happen, even if it’s not tonight. You have the same friends—this is definitely not the last time you will see each other. “Well, I should probably head. I have to be up at eight tomorrow.”

“Oh, wow. The choir grandmas don’t play around.”

“They really don’t.”

“Well, see you around then,” you say, a clumsy laugh falling from your lips as you wrap your arms around Sunghoon’s neck, bringing him into a tight but short hug. You also smell good, he notes to himself. Of course you do.

“See you, Y/N.” Just as he’s about to turn away, you wrap your hand around his wrist.

“Wait. Sunghoon?” He’s only half-surprised at the immense relief he feels to hear his name on your lips. Like you, too, didn’t want to part with him just yet.

“Yeah?” he says, wishing the hope and anticipation aren’t too obvious on his face.

“Where’s that choir of yours?”

--

When Sunghoon arrives at his neighborhood’s community center, ten minutes before nine a.m., you’re already there. Despite the seven hours of sleep under his belt, he feels like he could’ve done with three more, and the singular cup of instant black coffee he had for breakfast was both atrocious and useless. But your smile has the restorative effect of two Red Bulls and a power nap. You look surprisingly bright, like you either managed to get a very good night’s sleep or are just the biggest morning person to ever exist.

He hugs you when he reaches you on the sidewalk, tighter than he probably should, but you return it. You smell like fresh soap and sugar. The two of you exchange quick greetings before he leads you inside the center. 

“I made some cookies as well.” You point to your tote bag and Sunghoon’s jaw slackens.

“You had time to bake?” 

“Kazuha made me take Jägerbombs, so I felt crazy when I got home. I thought it wouldn’t be fair on the old ladies if they did all the work.”

Sunghoon laughs. “They’re going to love you.”

You follow Sunghoon up two flights of stairs and into a spacious room with a wooden stage. There’s a snacks table on one side of the room that is almost fully decked with plates and tupperwares of all sorts, and although their contents remain covered by tin foil or lids, the coffee and hot water pots are free to use. Most of the chairs are stacked on each side of the room but a few have been put in the middle, the grandmas sitting and chatting there waving at Sunghoon as the two of you walk in. There are about fifteen people in the room so far, most of them older ladies, but not only. There’s a dad that came with his daughter, a couple of teenagers, and a few other adults. It’s quite an eclectic mix, and Sunghoon loves it.

Minjeong is here, too, which Sunghoon realizes he forgot to say until he sees the sheer confusion of finding someone you know in an unexpected place on both of your faces. She walks towards you, suspicious eyes darting between you two.

“Hey,” she says only to Sunghoon before turning to you, arms crossed over her chest. “And what are you doing here?”

“Hi, Minjeong, so nice to see you too!”

“I invited Y/N,” Sunghoon says quickly, although you did technically invite yourself. For some reason, he feels the need to defend you, even though he knows you and Minjeong have been friends for years now, and Minjeong is just always this blunt.

“I didn’t know this was the choir you went to,” you say to Minjeong.

“Oh, this?” She looks around the room. “It’s only the choir I’ve been going to since I was a kid. You’d know that if today wasn’t the first day you showed interest in it, ever.”

“I came to your concerts!”

One of the old ladies calls Sunghoon’s name from the snack table, and he is glad for the diversion. “Right. I’ll let you guys talk this out.” A hand on your shoulder, he smiles down at you. “I’m gonna say hi to the ladies over there. Be back in a minute.” He shoots Minjeong a look as if to say, Be normal. 

As he approaches the small group, one of them asks very loudly if you’re his girlfriend. They all burst into giggles, blushing and eager-eyed like they’re sixteen rather than sixty. Sunghoon would be endeared if you didn’t look so alarmed and Minjeong so horrified, both of you looking at him before turning back to each other and getting into a very heated and secretive discussion. He is bombarded with a hundred questions: what your name is, where you’re from, how did the two of you meet, are you together? No? But you’re so pretty! And he’s such a nice boy! He answers all of their queries to the best of his ability while checking that your conversation with Minjeong hasn’t turned physical—your arms are now also crossed over your chest, and you look annoyed while she looks like she’s accusing you of something, but at least, punches aren’t being thrown. 

Thankfully, it’s only a couple more minutes until the conductor calls for everyone to gather on stage, and a weight is lifted off of Sunghoon’s shoulders once the ladies’ collective attention is no longer on him. He isn’t sure where they came from, or why they’ve decided to make the choir rehearsal their hang-out spot, but there is always a group of women who sit there and knit while chatting quietly or listening to the songs, and they are sometimes joined by children whose parents are part of the choir but don’t want to sing themselves and apparently have nowhere else to go. Sunghoon had been so excited at the prospect of having you come see him that he hadn’t thought of how boring this might be for you, sitting with sixty-year-olds for two hours, listening to an amateur choir go through scales and sing corny romance ballads—they’re rehearsing for a wedding they’ve been hired to sing at. But as the minutes go by, his worry dissipates when the delighted smile on your face hardly falters. He can’t imagine that his choir is that good, but you genuinely look like you’re having a nice time, and it makes Sunghoon stand a little taller, sing a little louder. Your eyes are on him for most of the time, and he blushes every time your gazes meet, but he still can’t keep himself from looking away from the conductor to check on you every few seconds.   

Once rehearsal is over, everyone gathers around the refreshments table. When you tell Sunghoon that he looked good out there, he stuffs his mouth with banana bread to stop himself from blurting out something stupid. Your cookies are a hit, and so is everything else—Sunghoon would be more than happy to watch you eat as many baked goods as you possibly can and chat with the grandmas, but he has something to ask you. Without thinking much, he wraps his fingers around your wrist, gently pulling you away from the table and towards him. The question that was at the tip of his tongue fades as soon as you meet his eyes, looking up at him like a deer caught in headlights, cheeks stuffed with brownie. You’re so cute that words fail him for a second, and when he notices the proximity between the two of you, takes a small, bashful step backwards. You glance at his hand still around your wrist, and he withdraws it like he’s suddenly been burned. 

A playful smile grows on your lips. “Everything alright?”

He scratches the back of his head. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. I just, um, well. There’s a bus that takes us from right across the street directly to the beach, if you’re, um, if you’re interested. In going. With me. If you want.”

Your eyebrows cock in surprise, and Sunghoon thinks he’s messed it all up. You shoot Minjeong a quick, worried glance, then seem to think for a second. But when you look back to him, your smile is soft. “That sounds nice.”

An hour later, you’re running around together on the beach—or rather, Sunghoon is running around, and after five minutes of watching him with a smile on your face, he’s convinced you to run around with him. You’ve both long discarded your shoes and socks, jeans scrunched up to your mid-calves, grins so wide, your cheeks start to hurt. The wet sand is hard under your feet and the water cold against your skin. Sunghoon’s t-shirt sticks everywhere you sprayed water on him, and he knows putting his shoes on later will be a whole ordeal, but it doesn’t bother him. Even the gray September sky feels brighter because you’re standing with him underneath it. 

The water-splashing battle quickly has you both out of breath, and Sunghoon is ready to call a truce when you spot something behind him, gasping and running towards it. He turns around to find you picking up a bunch of sandcastle-building toys that must’ve been left behind by some kids. “I haven’t built a sandcastle in such a long time, this is so exciting,” you say, excitement written all over your face. 

As much as he loves seeing the glint of childish amusement in your eyes, Sunghoon keeps looking around in case the owners of these toys might appear out of thin air. “I feel like there’s something immoral about this,” he says, and you stop stacking sand into one of the toys to look at him with a confused frown. “Aren’t we technically stealing from some kids?”

“Sunghoon. If those kids really cared about these plastic toys, they wouldn’t have left them here.”

“What if they come back for them?”

“Then we’ll give them back. We’re not monsters.” That’s all it takes for Sunghoon to give in. He helps dig trenches around the towers you build, carving out small windows on them and apologizing profusely when he accidentally pokes too hard into one of them, destroying half of it. 

The second he notices you shivering, Sunghoon is on his feet, unwrapping the scarf around his neck and laying it like a blanket over your shoulders. “I’m going to get us something warm to drink. I’ll be back in a minute!” he announces before you can even protest, and practically runs to the nearest café. 

He only leaves you and the slightly pathetic-looking sandcastle alone for a minute, quickly coming back with two take-away cups of milky Earl Grey tea and a brownie that he couldn’t help himself from buying. The moan you let out when you bite into it, gooey, sweet chocolate sticking to your teeth, goes straight down Sunghoon’s spine, but he tries not to let his thoughts get too carried away.

“Good, right?” he asks, laughing when you nod fervently. When you laugh too, it’s a sound so sweet, it rivals the decadence of the brownie. “I sometimes make the trip all the way here just for this.”

“I thought I’d be done with sweets after this morning, but this is so good.”

“Better than Berta’s banana bread?”

“Oh, a hundred percent,” you say, covering your mouth with your hand as you speak. “Sorry, Berta. I’ll be thinking about this for the rest of my life.”

Sunghoon hopes you’ll remember him as the boy who’d introduced you to those brownies, if nothing else.

The two of you are silent for a little bit, but it’s a comfortable silence—something Sunghoon didn’t know was possible with someone he’d just met. This was something he loved about the sea: it allowed for some quiet. The crashing of the waves against the shore, the calls of the seagulls, the dogs barking after them—it all meant he didn’t need to fill the space with needless chatter. He could look out at the peaceful water, you by his side, and just enjoy the moment.

“I’m still so amazed whenever I come to the beach, no matter how many times it’s been.” Sunghoon’s voice is quiet when he speaks, lower than usual. It sounds a lot more intimate than he means it to be. You turn your head to look at him, silently asking him to go on. There’s a small smile playing on his lips, a twinkle in his eyes as he watches the water. “The town I grew up in is right in the middle of the country, so the sea is like, a five-hour drive. There was a lake nearby, but it was nothing compared to this. It might sound silly, but being from somewhere where everyone knows each other, I never realized just how big the world was until I came here and saw the sea for the first time.”

“You’d never been to the sea before coming here?” you ask, surprise clear in your voice. 

He shakes his head. “My hometown isn’t far from the mountains, so it’s a huge tourist spot both in the winter and in the summer, which meant my mom had to work even when my sister and I were out of school and could actually go on holiday. We’d go visit my grandparents and aunts when we found the time, but that was it.” He meets your gaze, a smile playing on his lips at the thought of his hometown and his family. “This is the furthest I’ve ever been from home.” 

The corners of your lips raise into a smile too, matching Sunghoon’s. “And how has that been going?”

He sighs. “It’s okay. I miss my mom and sister like crazy, of course, but they FaceTime me so much that I barely notice it. And anyways, it’s also nice to be on my own. Discover another part of myself, and all that.”

“For sure.” 

There’s a slight shift in your expression that Sunghoon catches onto, a falter in your smile and a hint of sadness in your eyes. He doesn’t want to force a topic that you don’t want to talk about, so he just gently eggs you on, in case all you need is a small push.

“What about you? I think Jake mentioned you guys growing up around here, only an hour or so away.”

At the mention of your brother, the smile returns to your eyes. You take a deep breath and think for a bit, but eventually, you start talking. Although Sunghoon’s eyes are on you, you keep yours trained on the sea. “Yeah, we did. We live just up the coast, so we were always hanging out at the beach. In a way, it’s nice having the sea here as well. It’s like-I don’t know.”

“Like having a piece of home even when you’re away?”

Your gazes meet for just a second, the surprise clear in your eyes, but as quickly as it came, it’s gone, and you turn away from Sunghoon once more. “Basically, yeah.” A sardonic smile appears on your lips. “Although the constant reminder isn’t always appreciated.” 

He tilts his head. When you don’t say anything further, he flicks some sand onto your hand and asks you what you mean by that. He looks at you with curiosity and kindness only, eager to know more about you, to let you know that you can open up to him, that he won’t judge you, but careful not to overstep any boundaries either. It seems to work.

“It might sound stupid, but back home, the beach was a place I could go to when it all was a bit too much, you know? Like an escape from everyday life. Where I could forget about all of the pressure on my shoulders.” Sunghoon hums, and you take another deep breath. “I don’t know if you and Jake talk about this sort of thing, but… our parents are barely nice when we do well, and pretty awful when we don’t reach their expectations. So we were like, constantly having to outdo ourselves just for them to say, ‘Keep it up’, or something like that. And if we did something wrong, well…”

You trail off, but Sunghoon knows what you mean. “Yeah, Jake said they barely spoke to him anymore because he decided to play hockey instead of becoming, like, a doctor or something.”

You smile, but it’s humorless. “Yep. They send him money, and he comes home for a bit over Christmas and summer break, but that’s it. I’ve gone home by myself sometimes and they won’t even mention him, it’s insane.”

“He also doesn’t talk about it a lot.”

“I know. I’m always the one to bring it up. I know it’s a sensitive topic for him, obviously, but I still find it amazing how well he deals with it. But me… despite everything, I still need their approval, you know?” you ask, and Sunghoon nods.

“That makes sense.”

You sigh. “I guess. And I’m obviously not becoming a doctor like them. Not a medical one, at least. It took a year of convincing them that doing the degree I’m doing was okay. ‘Cause at the end of the day, it’s still me filling in my university applications, and they can’t actually force me to go to medical school, but I still wanted them to be proud of me. Even if I study languages.” It’s quiet for a few seconds as you both look out at the waves crashing against the shore. When you start talking again, you look down at the sand, picking it up and letting it filter through your fingers. “So, yeah. Jake got a scholarship here, and I didn’t wanna be too far from home, so here we are. We’re so close to home, the sea I went to when I needed a break in high school and the sea I go to now are one and the same. And now it reminds me of my parents rather than making me forget about them.”

“I’m sorry for bringing you here,” Sunghoon says. “I didn’t think…”

You cut him off with a smile. “It’s okay. Now I’ve created new memories. Nice ones. And you know… wherever I am, it’ll be at the back of my mind. It’s up to me whether I let it affect my life or not.”

“Letting go of these things is never easy,” Sunghoon offers. “You also can’t blame yourself if it does affect you sometimes.”

When you look at Sunghoon, your eyes darting back-and-forth between his like they’re searching for something there, he feels himself tense up slightly. He can’t read you at all, has no idea what you’re thinking even as you smile and say, “You’re right.” Even as you silently link your pinky with his, gazing down at your hands with a small smile. He hadn’t realized how cold his hands were until this small touch, so small yet able to spread warmth throughout his entire body. When he speaks, he can’t bring himself to meet your eyes—he’s still so focused on where your hands touch, too aware of the skin of your finger right against his. Such a small, innocent touch. He can’t even begin to understand why it means so much to him.

“For what it’s worth, I think what you’re doing is super cool,” he says. “I’ve always been so shit at foreign languages, let alone dead languages. And packing your bags and going abroad for a year, not everybody can do that. Becoming a doctor might be hard, but it also takes a specific kind of person to do what you do. And what Jake does. It’s all valuable.”

“Now, if you could say that again while I record you to show my parents, please,” you say, making him laugh.

“It’d be my pleasure.”

“What about you?” you ask him after a small pause. “I can’t be the only one who trauma-dumps on the first date.”

Sunghoon’s breath hitches in his throat. He hadn’t even dared entertain the thought that this might be more than a platonic hang-out in case he was crossing a line—but you’ve just called it a date. With just a few casual words, you’ve changed the entire meaning of the hours you’ve spent together. He hopes you can’t tell how flustered it’s made him.

“Well, there’s not much trauma to dump, really. Sorry.” 

You giggle. “Don’t apologize. That’s a good thing.”

Now that you’ve just opened up about your parents, Sunghoon is scared that telling you about how good of a childhood he had might come off as insensitive—but you smile softly at him, holding his hand face-up in yours, tracing the lines of his palm with the tip of a finger, and he starts talking. “So, it was just me, my older sister and my mom growing up. My dad died when I was 2.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It is a bit sad that I don’t have any memories of him, but everyone who knew him said he was a great guy. And my mom’s had this boyfriend since I was like, 10? He’s the one who got me to start hockey. So it hasn’t been that bad.”

“Your mom must be really strong.”

Sunghoon smiles. “She is. She’s amazing. To raise two kids on your own while grieving and not royally fuck up is… well, amazing. She’s always been so supportive of us, no matter what we wanted to do. My sister did well at school, but I wasn’t so good. I never really enjoyed it, but she’s never made me feel bad about it. She didn’t mind that all I wanted to do was hit a puck around.” 

“And you’re pretty good at hitting that puck around, aren’t you?”

“I’m not so bad,” Sunghoon says, chuckling along with you. He’s about to go on, but he is cut off by a raindrop hitting his hand, then another one; before either of you know it, your clothes are soaked through. Sunghoon takes his denim jacket off, using it as a makeshift umbrella for the both of you as you run towards the nearest awning, shaking with giddy laughter until you forget about the chilly rain and the clothes sticking to your skin. When it doesn’t let up for another few minutes, Sunghoon suggests catching the bus back, and you agree. 

The heating on the bus is set on low, but it’s enough to warm Sunghoon up as soon as he steps onto it. You sit at the back in a corner of your own, multiple rows away from the other people onboard. The two of you are relatively quiet, lost in your own thoughts until Sunghoon, after much internal deliberating, takes one of your hands in his and interlaces your fingers together. You look up at him, but he doesn’t return your gaze, eyes fixed on the window to hide his shy smile and the blush slowly staining his cheeks. To his surprise, you squeeze his hand and rest your head on his shoulder. He freezes for a second, unsure how to react to your reciprocated affection, but he makes himself relax into your touch, and starts brushing his thumb back-and-forth on the back of your hand. The sudden storm has made day turn to night a little earlier today, and with the quiet hum of the bus, he finds himself on the edge of sleep for the whole ride—the only thing keeping him awake is his booming heart.

The bus is nearing his stop when the buzz of his phone in his back pocket jolts him awake. You lift your head from his shoulder, massaging your neck as you fish your phone out of your own pocket. Sunghoon, more intrigued by you than by whoever has texted him, watches as the brightness of your screen makes you wince. Once you’ve read the text, you turn towards him, sleepy eyes and sleepy voice as you ask him whether he’s seen “this,” referring to a text from Chaewon. dinner at our flat tonight!!! come whenever. bring drinks. 

“Oh, I forgot she was doing that tonight,” you say through a yawn.

Sunghoon chuckles. “Do you have enough energy for it?”

“I always have enough energy for Chaewon’s cooking.”

You and Sunghoon make a pit-stop at a grocery store to buy two bottles of white wine and the hummus Chaewon likes, then head to your flat. Naturally, questions are asked when you and Sunghoon arrive at the exact same time, but before Sunghoon can explain that you spent the day together, Minjeong’s head pops out of the kitchen door, and she asks whether you ran into each other downstairs. Chaewon is only looking at the both of you, waiting for an answer, so she doesn’t see the very pointed look Minjeong gives you, as if to say Agree with me or else. You quickly glance at Sunghoon then say, “Yeah, we just arrived at the same time.” When they’ve both turned away, you tell him in a hushed tone that you’ll ask her about it later. 

The girls are busy in the small kitchen and Chaewon insists that they don’t need any more help, so you and Sunghoon bring two chairs by the kitchen door and sit as Yunjin catches the four of you up on the most recent drama in her Law cohort. Jay arrives twenty minutes later, but it isn’t another hour before Jake shows up with the excuse that he was taking a nap.

“Someone would think you don’t sleep at night, with the amount of naps you take,” you say.

“Oh my God, I miss when you weren’t here,” Jake replies, flicking your forehead before promptly plopping himself down on the couch. “I was so hungover when I woke up. I had to sleep it off,” he explains as he grabs four cans of beer from his backpack. 

Chaewon always makes a point to ask how everyone’s spent their day, but today, she unfortunately starts with Sunghoon, so he doesn’t have any time to come up with anything believable other than the truth, which is exactly what he does—and when Jay asks, What, to the beach by yourself? under Minjeong’s heavy gaze, he has no choice but to say yes. He isn’t sure why it’s such a big deal that you spent the day with him, or why it needs to be kept a secret, but there must be a reason. He’ll find out later. When it’s your turn, you look straight into Sunghoon’s eyes as you say you spent the day at the library but didn’t get much work done. Everyone ignores Jake when he exclaims Boring! and Chaewon swiftly moves onto Jay.

But you don’t. 

Your eyes stay on Sunghoon, unflinchingly watching him, expression unreadable, and he finds himself unable to look away, even as he feels his face heat up and his stomach flip. Then you smile, a satisfied smirk like you got what you wanted, and shift your gaze to Jay, who’s going on and on about the first six episodes of Lost he binge-watched earlier and wondering why nobody had told him about this “masterpiece of a show” before. Sunghoon is too busy thinking about the way you’d looked at him and pondering all the reasons for it to listen carefully. He watched Lost when he was fourteen anyway.

All throughout the evening, as the seven of you eat Chaewon’s pasta dish (which she made entirely from scratch, and is probably one of the best things to have ever graced Sunghoon’s taste buds), drink, talk, and afterwards, play card games, every glance between you and Sunghoon feels like a secret conversation that only the two of you are privy to. No one except for Minjeong is aware that you spent the day just the two of you until now—and even she doesn’t know what it is you did. Within a day of knowing each other, you already share memories that are yours and no one else’s. Sunghoon is giddy with the knowledge, heart skipping every time your eyes meet, no matter how fleetingly. When you’re all saying goodbye, it takes everything in him not to hug you for an awkwardly long time and to tear himself away from you. 

He can hardly fall asleep that night.

--

For the entirety of the year you were gone, Sunghoon could only nod and smile while the others bemoaned your absence or commented on how much more fun it’d be if you were here (even Jake, after enough wine spritzers, would admit to missing you). He understood that the group dynamics might feel different to them without you around, but this particular set of people was all he knew, so he never minded it. It reminded him of people telling him how sad it must’ve been growing up without a father, trying to be empathetic, when he didn’t know how he could miss something he never had. 

But now that you’re here, he gets it. You add something to the group that he can’t quite put his finger on. It’s in your affectionate gestures towards Chaewon and Yunjin, in your shared sense of humor with Jay (which no one else seems to find funny, save for Sunghoon, sometimes), in your bickering with Minjeong and downright arguing with Jake. It’s a hackneyed expression, but you do light up a room—at least in Sunghoon’s opinion, you do. In your presence, everything feels not only more lively, but also more cohesive, like you were the missing piece of a puzzle. Like a historic work of art that has been returned to its rightful owner. 

Sunghoon just finds himself drawn to you, at times unable to keep his eyes off of you, and the only things keeping him from making a move are his inherent shyness and the eyes of your friends. He doesn’t want to mess up the friendship he has with anyone from the group, least of all Jake, just because he can’t keep it in his pants. He thought of Yunjin and Chaewon, how their relationship had gone smoothly from the beginning and posed no problem to the dynamic of the group, but he had no idea if this was replicable between you and him at all.

If he had to be honest, a big part of him was also just afraid you’d reject him.

Getting a read on you is hard, which doesn’t help. It’s been three weeks since the gang reunited, since that party where you met. The first semester of his second and your fourth year started a little bit over a week ago; Sunghoon sometimes worries that you think there is some big age gap between you and that you see him as a kid, even though, admittedly, two years is not such a huge difference. In those three weeks, there have been many encounters which could be seen as cases of flirting between the two of you—Sunghoon has noticed every single one of them and replayed each an embarrassing amount of times in his head. A hand carefully posited on his shoulder; prolonged eye contact; jokes whispered in his ear at a crowded house party; knees lightly touching at first, then pressed together during movie night. None of it ever fails to make Sunghoon’s heart flutter. You could breathe in his general direction and it’d make his heart beat fast enough to worry a cardiologist, so when you smile at him, it’s a small death every time.

And so he dares hope that his interest isn’t one-sided—although most of the time, he is so stuck between thinking none of it means anything and thinking every single thing you do is a sign that you like him, that he rarely knows what to think. And whenever you’ve paid him enough attention to make him believe it’s not all in his head, you do something that proves him wrong. Watching you interact with other people, he realizes that you keep good eye contact with everyone and that you’re just as touchy and playful with all of your friends. At parties, you hit it off with new people and catch up with old friends without so much as a hint of awkwardness. He watches as you talk to other guys, the same smile that has been making him weak for the past three weeks, directed towards them and not him. Sunghoon assumes you’re either really nice to everyone and oblivious to the fact that it could be seen as flirting, or you just flirt with everyone. 

In that sense, the two of you are complete opposites. Sunghoon, whose entire friend group hangs on the fact that he befriended Jay, who knew Jake, who knew you, Minjeong, Yunjin and Chaewon. Sunghoon who has spoken to maybe half of his hockey team outside of the locker rooms and the occasional party. Sunghoon who, outside of his usual friend group, has managed to make three other friends on his own in the year he’s been at university, because they had been put in a group project and magically hit it off enough to upgrade from classmates to friends. 

Then there’s you, who has to stop every thirty seconds at a party to say hi to someone you know. You, who still keeps in touch with the friends you made in a foreign country, even those who spoke broken English. You, who didn’t make Sunghoon feel like his crippling shyness was a problem when you first met. 

He doesn’t understand how everyone who meets you doesn’t instantly fall in love. 

Or maybe they do, and he’s just one of many vying for your heart. 

Tonight is one of the nights where all he can do is watch from afar as you interact with another man that he desperately wishes was him. With your lower back against the kitchen counter, drink in hand as you laugh with that other guy, eyes never leaving his face, it almost looks like someone has copied your time with Sunghoon at the costume party and pasted it onto this post-hockey game party. All you’re missing is a bright pink cowgirl hat and boots to match.

And yet, it’s his team jacket over your shoulders, his name and number on your back. Sunghoon shouldn’t feel nearly as jealous as he does.

So he does what any good friend would do, and blames Jay for reasons completely unwarranted—even now, days after receiving his advice, and hours after taking it, Sunghoon still can’t help but regret involving him at all. 

Initially, Sunghoon hadn’t wanted to tell anyone about his growing feelings for you—he’d thought that if he pushed them away and kept them to himself, they’d go away on their own. But clearly, they didn’t, seeing as how his stomach always twisted in nervous excitement at the prospect of seeing you and how he could never get through a conversation with you without blushing. So, quicker than he’d like to admit, he’d given in and told Jay about the day you’d spent at the beach and how felt about you now, thinking it was some big shameful secret that would render his friend flabbergasted. 

That was his first mistake. 

Jay wasn’t impressed. “Yeah, it’s been pretty obvious, dude,” he’d said through a mouthful of cheeseburger. It was after hockey practice, and they were sitting in the burger joint near the ice rink that had some of the best student deals in town. Jake was going on a Hinge date, and Sunghoon had lured Jay in with the promise of free food (Jay wanted to go home and game, but all Sunghoon needed to do to convince him was to say “I’ll pay for it”). 

“Obvious? How obvious? Does everyone know? Does Jake know?” Sunghoon asked, growing more agitated by the second.

“Jake is possibly the worst room-reader that has ever lived, so no, I don’t think he’s caught on. But the rest of us know. I mean, you look at her like a twelve-year-old with a crush on his English teacher,” Jay said, unceremoniously cramming fries into his mouth.

Sunghoon ignored the slightly humiliating remark, still preoccupied by the fact that he hadn’t been as discreet as he thought he had. He leant in towards Jay and dropped his voice to a whisper, even though the restaurant was practically empty, save for them and a group of rowdy middle school boys who were definitely not paying attention to them. “Do you think… does she know?”

Jay dropped his fist on the table in sudden annoyance, causing Sunghoon to jump back in his seat. “Now you’re acting like a twelve-year-old.” Before Sunghoon could defend himself and argue that he’s being completely rational, Jay launches into a surprisingly moving monologue. “It’s fine if you like her, there’s nothing to be embarrassed of. Everybody feels attraction towards other people, everybody gets crushes, it’s no big deal. Just talk to her. Worst case scenario, she doesn’t feel the same way, and you both move on, because you’re adults.”

There’s nothing worse than a friend being right about something you absolutely don’t want to hear. Sunghoon did feel like he had been carrying a horrible secret around, but Jay was spot-on: crushes are a very common, very human experience. And yet Sunghoon managed to feel like he was the only one who had ever had to go through this torture. “You say that like it’s easy,” he said, sulking.

“It is easy. You’re making it hard.”

“So what, your advice is just to confess to her?”

Jay rolled his eyes. “See? You’re saying confess like it’s some sin you have to repent for. Yeah, just tell her.”

“Just tell her,” Sunghoon repeated, looking at his friend like he was crazy. Jay just took another bite of his burger.

“Yeah, dude. It’s not even like you’ve known each other for a long time, so there’s no risk of ruining a friendship, or anything.”

“But do you even know if she feels the same way at all?”

Jay shrugged. “She hasn’t mentioned anything,” he said, and Sunghoon’s heart dropped in disappointment. “But it’s Y/N, she’ll be cool about it. And who knows, she might actually see something in you, for some godforsaken reason.”

Jay laughed at his own joke, and Sunghoon afforded him a chuckle. They moved on to other topics, but later, as they waited for Jay’s bus to come, he couldn’t help himself. “Do you think Jake will mind? If something happens with Y/N and me?”

Jay thought for a second. “I think he’d be more upset with her than with you, what with everything that happened with Heeseung... But knowing him, he probably won’t care as long as you aren’t weird in front of him.” He puts a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder and shakes it gently. “Don’t let that stop you from making a move, okay? You’ll cross that bridge when you get to it.” His bus came then, so Sunghoon couldn't ask for more details about this Heeseung situation—he knew that there had been something between you and him which hadn’t ended particularly well, but no one ever really talked about it so he didn’t dare bring it up. All he knew was that it had been significant enough for Jay to mention it now, and for Jake to seem bothered every time it was mentioned.

He put all of that out of his head for the time being. In a way, he had just received Jay’s blessing; even if it scared him shitless, he could make a move. Perhaps not something as straightforward as Jay was suggesting, but something, at the very least. 

The first major hockey game of the season was that coming Friday. Sunghoon had an idea.

The morning of, he shot you a text. He tried to make it sound as nonchalant as he can, so that you wouldn’t know he spent close to an hour deleting, writing and pouring over a singular sentence. Can you meet me in front of the locker rooms 30 mins before the game? 

That was his second mistake.

You replied twenty minutes later, twenty minutes that Sunghoon spent questioning everything that had led up to this moment.

yn.sim i’ll be there!!

You even got there five minutes early. He was waiting for you, all decked out in his hockey uniform, save for the gloves and protective headgear. He was anxiously chewing on gum, heart doing somersaults inside his ribcage—a grin found his lips as soon as you appeared around the corner, the sight of you alleviating his nerves for a second, then doubling them when you came close. “Hey,” he said, voice soft and slightly trembling.

“Hey,” you simply replied, a smile on your face to match his as he took you in his arms. It was a hug that lasted a second longer than it should, but that also ended too early for his liking.

“Um, I only have a second, Coach will be wanting to give one of his pep talks,” he said when you separated. One quick glance back at the locker room doors behind him, then back at you. The tips of his ears burnt, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from furtively darting between your face and the floor. But he’d come this far, so he couldn’t back out now. He just had to get it over with. “Here,” he blurted out, holding out the letterman jacket he had been hiding behind his back. You grabbed it, eyeing him with amused suspicion at first, but surprise spreaded over your features as you unfurled the jacket.

“Your team jacket?” 

He couldn’t tell whether you were amazed or horrified. You stared wide-eyed at the jacket, at its dark green sleeves, at the four letters of his last name and the huge number 8 embroidered onto the back. Your surprise faded back into what he thought — what he hoped — was excitement as you looked at him. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling his face flush red. “Yeah, I just, you know… It’s the first big game of the year, and I thought it’d bring me good luck if a pretty girl was wearing my name…” he explained, repeating the words he’d practiced over and over, voice turning into more and more of a mumble as he spoke. He had planned on speaking with more confidence, but now, the fact that he could speak at all felt like a miracle.

A light giggle spilled out of your mouth. Sunghoon immediately took it for mockery and regretted every decision that had led him here. “Sorry, it was a silly idea, you don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it,” he said, reaching for the jacket. But you were quicker than him, hugging the thick bundle of fabric to your chest as you now beamed at him.

“Are you kidding? I love it,” you said, shrugging off your jacket and replacing it with his.

First, relief flooded his body, then pride and excitement — as you spun around and showed the jacket off — at seeing his name on your back, and his attempt at making a move being successful. At least, he thought it was clear what he meant by giving you his jacket to wear at his game—he could only hope you understood. “Well… I’m glad.” Your eyes met, and you both chuckled softly, gazes holding each other’s for a second too long. 

Two weeks ago, Sunghoon still would’ve been able to convince himself this was a fluke; that this was just another one of his crushes that a gentle breeze could blow away. Because after all, when Sunghoon fell in love, it usually went as quickly as it came. But at that moment, in front of the locker rooms, his mind solely on you and not the opening game of the season, he realized this was something else entirely. And whatever it was, he hadn’t felt it in a good long while.

He was terrified—but infinitely excited, too.

“Okay, I should probably head back in now,” he forced himself to say, but made no move to go.

“Okay.”

He paused. “Will you be cheering me on?”

Your smile widened. “Of course.”

He nodded slowly, upper body starting to turn away but feet still firmly planted on the ground. “Okay.” 

Another second passed, and just as he was about to actually walk away, you grabbed his hand. Before he could compute what was happening, you lifted your head and pressed a small kiss to his cheek. His hand was still in yours when you took a step back, and for once, it was you who looked sheepishly at the floor. “For good luck,” you explained. He had no time to reply—you were already walking away, only looking back once to wave and shoo him in the direction of the locker room. He chuckled and nodded, but waited until you were out of sight to head back into the locker room.

Inside the locker room, everyone was too focused on getting their head in the game to notice his giddy smile. Your lips had been warm and soft against his cheeks, a welcome repeat of that time at the costume party, but the quickness of it all had only made him want more. From that very first night he’d met you, the question of how your lips would feel on his had scarcely left his mind. This brought him a step closer to getting an answer, but also made his curiosity grow tenfold.

Thankfully, by the time his coach gathered them around for a last minute pep talk, he’d managed to put the distracting thoughts of you out of his head, at least temporarily—he’d need to play well, for himself and his team mostly, but impressing you was also a priority. 

As the captain, Heeseung said a few words. He reminded the team of how important this match was and went over the main strategy points. For the time being, Sunghoon was able to forget about his arguably unfounded resentment against the older boy and whatever it was he had to do with you. This was not the time for jealousy over someone he had no right to feel jealous over. 

A few minutes later, his members and those of the opposing team poured out onto the rink for warm-up. Sunghoon searched the crowd for your face—when he found it, you were already smiling wide and waving at him. His heart did something funny, but Jay punched his shoulder pad and he remembered what he was there for. He could get lost in the eyes of a pretty girl later, specifically when he’d destroyed the other team and shown her how good of a hockey player he was.

Every now and then as he skirted around the rink and did his stretches, he stole glances at you. They didn't last long, because every single time, you’d already be looking, as if your eyes never strayed from him. Knowing you were watching made him nervous at first, but by the end of warm-up, mainly because he didn’t have much of a choice, he’d turned those nerves into an ever stronger will to do well.

The moment the referee blew the whistle, and for the hour that followed, Sunghoon was locked in on one thing and one thing only: winning. He was only competitive when it came to hockey—he didn’t care about dying in an online battle game or losing to Jake at beer pong, but once he was on the rink, he had to win. Pride surged through him and filled every crevice of his aching limbs whenever he or one of his team members scored, and the feeling that came with a victory, with hugging his teammates in celebration or hearing the crowd cheer for them, was like nothing else he’d ever known. The other side of that coin meant that any loss was a tremendous disappointment. Getting beat at an important game could put him in a week-long funk. His sister had once carefully hinted at his self-esteem relying too much on his hockey performance, and although his first reaction had been to dismiss her, he knew she had poked at some truth there. But what could he do—on particularly lonely nights, he truly thought hockey was all he had going for him. 

To his overthinking nature, becoming so single-minded the second the whistle blows was a relief, a break from the stress of daily life. He didn’t have to worry about his next deadline or about what the guys on the team thought of him or about the inevitable phone call to his mom asking for more money for groceries. It was respite from the thoughts surrounding you that plagued him: how you felt about him, how you might react knowing what he felt for you, how Jake might react. Why Minjeong hadn’t wanted you to say anything that evening, but why Jay had told him to just go for it. Heeseung, whom he had to respect as the captain and an undeniably talented player, but also as someone who had had something to do with you, whether good or bad. All of it had been wildly bustling around Sunghoon’s mind, but once on the rink, all he had to concern himself with was the puck and getting it in the opposing team’s goal. 

And Sunghoon did just that—he scored the first goal of the game, another one in the second period, then a third during the eleventh hour, breaking the tie between the two teams. He smiled right at you after each one, just to make sure you had seen everything. He couldn’t quite describe how it felt to see you clap and cheer for him, jumping up-and-down, forming a megaphone with your hands around your mouth and yelling, “Go Sunghoon!” all while you wore his jacket. It was a separate kind of pride and satisfaction from the sort he’d get seeing anyone else cheer him on, for sure. 

The other team put up a good fight, getting in a few goals of their own and protecting their side well, but in the end, thanks to Sunghoon’s goal, it was his team that won. He took his helmet off and got his hair ruffled by half of his team, then shook hands with the other team, trying to contain his boastful smile—some ice hockey players flew off the handle very quickly, and starting a fight was the last thing he wanted.

Kids and local fans huddled by the barriers on each side of the player’s tunnel to get an autograph or a picture. People around here were weirdly attached to their university sport teams, and the athletes on teams that did particularly well — namely football and rugby — were sort of local celebrities. Their ice hockey team wasn’t quite at that stage yet, but they were placing better nationally with every year, and so the local interest had grown. More kids had started signing up for lessons, and their parents often brought them to home games. As Sunghoon chatted with men twice his age and took selfies with ten-year-olds, he tried to find you in the crowd, to no avail. He’d been hoping for a thumbs-up from you for a game well played, or even a hug, but you were nowhere in sight.

It wasn’t until half-an-hour later, after saying bye to all the fans that had waited after the game for them, listening to Heeseung and their coach congratulate them (but also remind them to not take anything for granted), showering and changing, that he got to check his phone.

chaewon we going k-bbq! u guys played well see u later at da party!!!!

Disappointment only had a second to sink to the bottom of his stomach. He’d barely finished reading the text when he was hoisted up by the shoulders. Two of his senior teammates, Soobin and Beomgyu, marched him towards the exit. “We are getting you wasted tonight, Park,” Beomgyu announced, a wide grin on his lips.

“I have a good feeling about this season,” Soobin added. Sunghoon looked back to find Jay and Jake simply shrugging and laughing at him.

Indeed, the second they got to the dorm where tonight’s party would be taking place, a beer was thrusted in his hand. It was only 7 p.m., still light outside, but that didn’t stop the team nor their friends that had come to the game. They sipped beer like it was water, so much so that two hours later, when the party started to grow, Sunghoon was already quite inebriated. It didn’t help that his cup was never empty for too long, and that he had the reassurance of being in his own dorm—it was the closest student building to the ice rink, and so was one of the prime spots for hockey parties. He could get as drunk as he wanted — or as Beomgyu wanted — and still get home in less than a minute. 

He somehow ended up in the corridor, part of a nonsensical conversation about candle-making with two guys he had recognized from one of his Phys Ed classes but could not for the life of him remember the names of. One had shared that candle-making was a big hobby of his, and it had made Sunghoon and the other unknown man lose their minds—Sunghoon had never realized how curious about candle-making he was, but he couldn’t stop asking questions. It sounded great. Maybe he’d have to pick up candle-making, too. 

Eventually, he headed back to the kitchen for a new drink. For the nth time this evening, he thought of texting you, then immediately thought against it. He wanted to know when you’d get here, but he didn’t want you to know that he wanted to know—although as the night deepened and his intoxication rose, he could remember less and less why that would be such a bad thing. He stepped into the kitchen, and going from the brightly-lit corridor to the dark kitchen with flashing neon lights made him so dizzy that he made a beeline for the couch, needing to sit down for a second.

And that was when he saw you.

Lower back against the counter, talking with a guy he’s never seen in his life. You look like you’re having fun—smiling, laughing, keeping eye contact with that guy. You’re still wearing his jacket. It should probably reassure him—his name is literally on you, what does it matter that you’re speaking to someone else? But instead, all he can think is that wearing his jacket must mean nothing to you. What was basically a confession from him seems to have fallen on deaf ears.

His friends’ words over the past year come back to him—how much you flirt with people, how it wasn’t a rare occurrence for you to go home with a guy after a party and never speak of him ever again. Was this what was happening here?

He knows it’s unreasonable, but in his drunken state, he takes it as a betrayal. Like he can’t believe you haven’t read his mind, figured out how he felt about you, and decided to give special attention to him and him only. He’s only able to take it for so long—two minutes later, he trudges out of the room, walking right past you but not looking your way.

His new mission is to find his friends, but before he’s done much searching, he hears his name being called out. Of course, he recognizes your voice immediately, but he doesn’t quite believe it until he looks over his shoulder, and there you are, face glowing and smiling wide. You’ve clearly had a few drinks, but he likes to think you’d be just as happy to see him if you were sober. He turns around to face you, watching as you narrow the distance between the two of you. He’s not in a much better state—the simple thought that you had come after him makes him forget any sort of resentment he held against you a second ago. When you reach him, he holds on to one of your arms, as much an effort to stabilize his swaying body as an excuse to touch you.

“Hey,” he simply says. He’s always at a loss for words around you, so scared he’ll say the wrong thing that he ends up barely speaking at all. He’s only sober enough to know that with all the cheap beer and vodka running through his blood, his odds of making a fool of himself are even bigger. 

“Hey. I was wondering where you were.” 

“You’re the one who came late.”

“I know!” you exclaim. “I wanted to come right away, but Chaewon was hell-bent on getting her Korean barbecue.”

“She does get cranky when she hasn’t had pork belly in a while.” Sunghoon feels like he’s just won the Nobel Prize when you let out a laugh. “Was the food good at least?”

“It was amazing. So worth getting here late,” you joke.

He rolls his eyes playfully. “I see how it is.” Then, before he can stop himself, he adds, “Then we should go there together next time.” 

Your smile changes, turning from cheerful to surprised, but amused—almost mischievous. You take a step forward. Sunghoon gulps; the gap between the two of you was narrow to begin with. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Usually, this type of straight-forwardness would have him stuttering, but drunk Sunghoon is a man sober Sunghoon barely recognizes in the morning. “Yeah. I am. Is that okay?”

You nod. “Mh-hm.”

“Nice. Okay.” For a second, you just look at each other. Another thing about drunk Sunghoon: he doesn’t feel like prolonged eye contact will make him spontaneously combust. He actually quite enjoys it. He also stumbles, even when all he’s doing is trying to stand straight. “You’re still wearing my jacket,” he eventually says, reaching out to take the end of your sleeve between his fingers.

You stretch out your arms and appraise the team jacket as if you only remembered you had it on. “Yeah. It’s comfy.”

“It looks good. You look good.”

“You’re not quite sober, are you?” you ask suddenly. 

“Is it that obvious?” When you nod, he giggles, lowering his head in defeat. “The guys made me drink so much.”

“You did score three goals after all. And you looked good doing it.”

At the praise, he stands up to his full height and places his palms behind his head in a victorious pose. “I did, didn’t I?” he says, looking off in the distance with a self-assured look that makes you burst into laughter. He drops the confident facade and laughs along with you, until somebody bumps into him and sends him stumbling forwards. If you weren’t standing there to catch him, he’d probably have fallen flat on his face. But even though he doesn’t fall, he feels all the alcohol catching up to him and threatening to come right back out where it came from. You hold him for a second, and just as you ask him if he’s okay, he says, “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

You sigh. “Okay. Where’s your room?” 

Arm under his shoulders, you let Sunghoon lean most of his weight on you as you guide him towards the elevator. It’s just one floor, but you said you didn’t want to risk the stairs with him. “Hey, who was that guy with you in the kitchen? That guy in the striped shirt? You guys seemed real chummy back there…” he mumbles as you help him out of the elevator. Even on the verge of sickness, Sunghoon is preoccupied by more important things.

“Oh, that was Jaemin.”

“Jaemin,” he echoes, more venom in his voice than needed.

You look at him, taking in his disgruntled expression, and chuckle. “Yeah, he’s having some problems with his boyfriend. He asked me for advice.”

Sunghoon almost freezes in his tracks, but you’re there to keep him walking towards his room. “Oh. He has a boyfriend.”

“Yeah…” He can tell you want to tease him about it, but thankfully, you say nothing. He’s made it clear he had gotten jealous of your gay friend—no need to spell it out in so many words. Once you reach his studio (which he’d stupidly left unlocked), he heads straight for the bathroom, locking himself in, half out of embarrassment, half because he really doesn’t want you to see him throw up. Talk about a turn-off. He leans over the toilet bowl, waiting for the vomit to rise, but nothing comes. He waits, and waits, mind completely empty, head spinning even though he’s sitting very still, when suddenly a knock on the door pulls him out of his stupor.

“Sunghoon? It’s been ten minutes. Everything okay?”

He doesn’t say anything, just unlocks the door for you. Without realizing, he fell asleep like a bored teenager in math class. “All right,” he hears you say.

He’s surprised you’re able to carry him out of the bathroom—if he was a deadweight before, by now, rigor mortis has practically set in. Despite his small student room, crossing it takes you an entire minute, and when you reach his bed, you all but let him flop on the mattress. He doesn’t mind. As soon as his body hits the bed, he feels quite snug, curling against his blanket. You start to unbutton his shirt, probably just thinking he’s already fallen asleep and wanting to make him more comfortable, but your fingers freeze when he starts giggling. Shoulders shaking with unbridled laughter, he feels as delighted as a five-year-old who just said a naughty word and made all his drunk relatives laugh at the family dinner. 

“I know I looked really hot tonight, but can we wait until I’m sober?” he asks, slurring his words slightly and keeping his eyes shut, despite the shit-eating smirk on his lips. You hit him on the chest but it just makes him laugh more.

“Bold of you to assume I’d still hit when I’ve just had to peel you off your toilet seat.” He lets you finish helping him out of his button-down. 

“Wouldn’t you?” he asks. He tries to look at you, but his eyes don’t quite open all the way, and they don’t focus properly, due to a strong mix of alcohol and inappropriate thoughts. Of you, specifically. His body feels suddenly very heavy, his want for you weighing him down into the mattress. The room is dark, your face illuminated only by the light in the bathroom and the glow of the street lights outside. You always look pretty, but your beauty is especially breath-taking right now, Sunghoon thinks. He wants to reach out and touch your face, wants to trace your jawline and know what your skin would feel like against his fingers. He doesn’t realize he’s actually doing it until he hears you inhale shakily.

The expression in your eyes is unreadable, and quickly gone, replaced by an annoyed squint. You grab his wrist gently, setting it back down next to him. “I’m gonna make you some ramen. You need to sober up, and you haven’t had dinner, have you?”

Sunghoon shakes his head. He feels rejected, and it makes him inordinately sad.

For five minutes, he watches as you rummage around his cupboards for a pack of ramen, fill a pot with water and bring it to a boil. His thoughts float back to your day at the beach, memories that he’s preciously held onto for the past few weeks. You running around on the sand, opening yourself up to him and letting him open himself up to you, holding his hand on the bus. That day, he’d really thought it would be the beginning of something new; but as time passed, he became less and less sure of himself. He’s scared it might’ve just been a fluke, and that he’d have to destroy the castle he’d built in his head. He’s seen you almost every day since, but it’s never been the same. And even if your eyes met unexpectedly sometimes, or if you went out of your way to sit next to him during movie nights, he can’t let himself go on with so few signs. Jay was right—he had to be clear about his feelings, otherwise this would go on forever. Even if it didn’t feel like it, the Earth would continue spinning on its axis if you didn’t reciprocate.

“I’ve missed you.”

You pause in your movements. “Missed me? But we’ve seen each other every day,” you say after a few seconds, still facing away from him. Your voice is softer than he’s heard it before, almost unsure of itself.

“No,” Sunghoon whines, frowning. He can barely keep his eyes open—he wishes you could read his mind so he wouldn’t have to explain, but alas. “I miss you—the you from the beach. When it was just me and you. It’s not the same with the others around.”

Silence falls over the room again. Sunghoon wonders if you’re just going to ignore what he said, until you take a deep breath, and walk back to his bed. You crouch in front of him and take both of his hands in yours. Electricity flows from where your hands touch to the rest of his body. He suddenly feels a lot more awake.

“It’s just the two of us now,” you whisper. 

Sunghoon nods. “I know. It’s nice.”

You smile. It might be the alcohol playing tricks on him, but Sunghoon swears there’s a hint of sadness in your eyes. One of your hands comes up to his hair. You thread your fingers gently through it, pushing it away from his forehead, then bring your hand down to the side of his face, your palm cupping it tenderly. Sunghoon lets himself lean into your warm touch. With his eyes closed, the darkness surrounding him makes this feel like a dream—he basks in the moment so as not to let a second of it go to waste.

“Do you wanna do something just us two this week?” you ask softly. His eyes shoot open—he needs to be sure this is really happening. He nods again, fervently this time, and it makes you chuckle. “Okay.”

“Just us two?” 

“Just us two.”

He relaxes once more. He guides your hand towards his mouth and presses his lips against your palm. Something shifts in your eyes—Sunghoon thinks the opportunity to finally kiss you has arisen, but as soon as his gaze drops to your lips, you’re back on your feet. “Let’s eat some ramen, shall we?” you ask as you head back towards the kitchen. Sunghoon tries his best (and probably fails) to not let his disappointment show.

There’s no dining table to speak of, only a low table near Sunghoon’s bed, on which you set down a wooden board and the steaming pot of spicy noodles. You hand him a pair of chopsticks and a spoon, and tell him to eat. Neither of you say much for a while, and Sunghoon grows redder and redder under your watchful gaze. He asks if you want any a few times, but you always turn him down. The silence quickly gets a little too unbearable for him, and he’s got a question burning the tip of his tongue anyway. Now’s as good a time as ever to ask it.

“Something’s been bugging me recently, actually…” You wait for him to go on. “So, at the costume party, right?” You nod. “You said there was only one person you wanted to kiss… Did you mean me?”

You tilt your head, looking at him like you’re trying to figure out whether he’s joking or not. “Yeah, Sunghoon… I meant you. Who else?”

He’s only half-relieved. “So why won’t you kiss me now?”

To his surprise, you smile. “Because you’re drunk.”

Confusion fogs Sunghoon’s brain. Is that all you’re worried about? Is his blood alcohol level the only thing stopping you from kissing him? “But I-I’m fine. I give you consent to kiss me, Y/N.” He’s dead serious, so when you laugh, it only frustrates him further.

“Finish your food, Sunghoon. We’ll see about kissing later.”

He sighs. Later he could deal with. “Fine. But I’ll hold you to it, okay?” he says, pointing a menacing chopstick at you.

“Okay.”

But Sunghoon can’t keep quiet for long—ten seconds later, he’s remembered another question he’s been dying to ask. He continues drinking his soup in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “So what happened between you and Heeseung?”

The question takes you so off-guard, you look like you would’ve done a spit-take had you been drinking water. “That’s-you know about that?”

“Well, not much, that’s why I’m asking.”

You scoff. “Why do you want to know? It’s boring.”

At those words, Sunghoon whips his head up to look at you. “It’s not boring!” he exclaims, perhaps a tad too vigorously. “Anything that has to do with you is interesting to me.”

Finally, the corners of your lips rise. Sunghoon hated the ten seconds in which you weren’t smiling. “Well, there isn’t much to say, anyway. We had a thing when we were in second year, I caught feelings and wanted more, and he didn’t. The end.”

Sunghoon freezes, staring at you with his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth agape. He then sets his cutlery down neatly next to the pot of ramen and clasps his hands together like he’s in a business meeting. “So you’re telling me that he had the opportunity to make you his girlfriend and he just… didn’t?”

You shrug. “Basically, yeah.”

He hits the bedsheets next to him, huffing out in annoyance. “What an idiot.”

“He sure is,” you say. You smile to yourself as you grab Sunghoon’s spoon and try some of the broth. He wonders whether anything lies behind that smile. “But it happened a while ago. Don’t be weird with him on my account. He’s still your captain.”

Sunghoon thinks for a second. “Can I side-eye him once in a while? Or not pass him the puck during practice?”

“Sure,” you reply, laughing. You swiftly move on to other topics as Sunghoon slurps the last of his noodles, asking him about the beginning of the party and just how much his teammates made him drink. He’s recounting the shot contest they held, which Mark won with an impressive seven shots of tequila in a row — Sunghoon hopes the boy is okay now — when your phones buzz at the same time. Minjeong’s name appears on your screen, Jay’s on his, both asking where you are.

“Should we head back now?” you offer, although Sunghoon, wishfully perhaps, detects a trace of reluctance in your voice. “You look like you’ve sobered up a bit, seeing as you’re able to string more than two sentences together.”

“I wasn’t that bad!”

“I should’ve filmed you.”

It’s one a.m. when you head back down, and the party is in full swing. Pop music blasts through someone’s JBL speaker in the shared kitchen, the hallways are more crowded than the subway at rush hour, just as full of hockey fans celebrating their team’s win as students who just wanted an excuse to party, and every window is open to alleviate some of the stuffiness. They probably have another hour left before the dorm residents who decided not to join in the festivities call campus police on them.

Sunghoon is relieved to find that Jake is off with other team members, reaching levels of drunkenness that will most definitely be regretted in the morning. Technically, he hasn’t done anything wrong—he simply let you nurse him back to sobriety after he almost regurgitated his pre-game protein bar and three beers all over your nice shirt. Chaewon and Yunjin are busy making out in a corner, their lack of decorum only increasing when they’ve been drinking, but Jay and Minjeong eye you suspiciously upon seeing the two of you arrive together. You explain what happened so casually that they don’t question it any further.

Chaewon and Yunjin only tear themselves off of each other when a Beyoncé song starts playing, and they drag all four of you to the makeshift dancefloor, which is really just three meters away in the middle of the kitchen. Sunghoon is practically all sobered up by now, but he’s loosened up enough not to feel self-conscious with every step he takes; the fact that you look so happy, dancing with him and laughing at his silly moves, is a considerable bonus. He won’t drink any more, not wanting to risk embarrassing himself further in front of you, and Jay, as the group’s self-proclaimed health guru, probably had his last beer around nine p.m., but the girls, each of them with a cup of suspicious transparent liquid in hand, are getting drunker by the minute—and so is Jake, who has now joined you all on the dancefloor, if his inability to stand straight is anything to go by. Sunghoon assumes you’re also done with alcohol for the night, until you turn to him in the middle of a song no one has heard since 2015 and tell him you’re going to get a drink.

“Okay!” he simply answers, and for a good thirty seconds, basks in the blissful satisfaction of knowing he was the one you informed of your whereabouts. That is, until he realizes a minute later that it was probably a covert invitation for him to come along, which he totally missed. But when he looks over at the counter where all the drinks are, his heart drops—Heeseung is standing in front of you, pouring gin and lemonade into your cup. A flurry of emotions course through Sunghoon, emotions he has no idea what to do with, because he’s not sure they’re entirely warranted. He’s angry that Heeseung is talking to you, after what he did, confused that you’d let him; but mostly, he’s jealous. But he knows it’s only because he has no guarantee that you like him, and that you won’t go off with Heeseung, despite having just talked about how you were over him.

Wait—is that really what you said? You told Sunghoon that what happened with Heeseung didn’t bother you anymore, which doesn’t necessarily mean you wouldn’t go back to him, given the chance. 

Before he can think it over a second time, Sunghoon heads over to where you and Heeseung stand. He places himself right behind you, reaching for a bottle of Coke on your side and pouring himself a drink.

“Oh, hey, Hoon,” his team captain says, clearly surprised to see him there and looking so discontented. Sunghoon can’t remember whether they’ve ever been close enough for Heeseung to call him by his nickname. “Having fun?”

“Yep,” he curtly replies, avoiding eye contact with either of you and looking out at the crowd of party-goers instead. He can feel your gaze, heavy on his face, can see the knowing smirk slowly rising on your lips. How was it that you could see right through him so easily?

“Too much dancing made you thirsty?” you ask, taking a drink from your cup and hiding your smile behind it.

He glares at you, more annoyed that his attempt at subtly sussing out what you and Heeseung were doing together was shut down so quickly than anything else. “Yep,” he repeats.

“You guys know each other?” the older boy asks, eyes darting between the two of you.

“Jake introduced us,” Sunghoon quickly answers. To his surprise, this makes Heeseung chuckle.

“Jay, Sunghoon, me… Wow, do you meet all your friends through your brother, Y/N?” he asks jokingly. Immediately, so many alarm bells ring in Sunghoon’s head—the implication that you and Heeseung are friends, the fact that he put himself and Sunghoon in the same bag, and above all, that teasing, almost flirtatious tone of his. 

He’s horrified to find you rolling your eyes playfully and saying, “I have other friends, thanks,” in a tone far too similar. At that moment, Minjeong starts yelling about how much she loves everyone in this room but particularly “you guys,” pointing to Jake, Jay, Minjeong and Chaewon, and “you guys, too!” screaming over the music as she points to you and Sunghoon.

“There’s one of them,” you say, half-amused, half-exasperated. “We should probably go check on her. See you around, Heeseung.”

“Right. See you, Y/N. Sunghoon.” 

Back to no-nickname basis, apparently.

Your group’s indicator of when it’s time to go home is when Minjeong starts one of her “I-love-my-friends-so-much” rants—if she’s that drunk, everyone else must be wasted. Indeed, Chaewon and Yunjin are holding onto each other to keep themselves from falling down, and Jake is unable to keep his head up. You, Sunghoon and Jay herd your friends outside and wait for Jake’s Uber, making sure to get him safely inside and to tip the driver generously for his pains. Jay lives nearby yours and the girls’ flat, and Sunghoon, ever the gentleman, walks you all home.

“Just ‘cause you and Jay might need a hand getting these three home,” he tells you. Yunjin, Chaewon and Minjeong are currently running around on the road, pointing and laughing at random shop names, and Jay is yelling at them to get back on the sidewalk.

“Mh-hm.”

“And it’ll be good to completely sober up before going to bed.”

“Right.”

There’s no use putting up a front with you—he’s an open book and you’re an avid reader. You don’t need to say anything to make it clear that you know it’s just an excuse to spend more time with you.

“You know, I told you not to be weird with Heeseung,” you say, gently punching him in the arm.

“Was I weird?” he asks, knowing fully well he hadn’t acted at all like he usually did around his captain. 

“You basically only spoke to let Heeseung know we’re friends. You were making yourself all tall and looking mysteriously out into the distance instead of at us.”

“But I am tall and mysterious,” he says, pride coursing through him as it always does when you laugh at one of his jokes.

“You’re probably the least mysterious person I know, Hoon.”

Hoon. How much sweeter that name sounds coming from you over anyone else.

“So you agree that I’m tall?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a grin on your face. A win is a win. “That’s just a fact.”

Sunghoon smiles victoriously. “I’ll take a fact. But I’m sorry if I was acting weird… I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t bothering you.”

“Heeseung is always bothering me,” you say with a sigh. “He comes up to me like this at every party. He’s just asking how I’ve been, but it’s like he’s sussing out whether or not he’s still got a chance.”

“Do you need me to beat him up? Threaten him? Dox him?”

Even though Sunghoon was only half-joking, you burst out laughing, hard enough for Minjeong to whip around and shout, “What are you laughing about?” as if you had offended her personally. At least Jay is there to make her turn around and focus on walking straight.

“I appreciate the offer, but that won’t be needed. I just don’t like talking about it, ‘cause it’s really not that big a deal anymore. It feels like digging up old bones, you know?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “I’d commit grave robbery with you.”

“You-what?”

“Nevermind. We obviously don’t have to talk about it, but I’m curious.”

You sigh. “I guess it’d make sense for you to know about this.” Sunghoon thinks he sees something like panic flash across your features, but it’s so quick and such a rare expression on you that he’s not sure whether he just imagined it. “You know-just ‘cause everyone else is aware of it, and everything,” you quickly explain.

“Sure.”

“I just… I’m sure Heeseung is a nice guy when it comes to other things, but what the girls and I have concluded is that he’s a bit of an attention whore, you know. When it comes to girls. We fooled around for a while, and he never made it official, even when I made it pretty clear that that was what I wanted. But every time we saw each other after that, he’d flirt with me like nothing had happened. I fell for it at first and flirted back, thinking he had changed his mind… but he really just wanted to make sure I was still into him.”

“Looking for validation,” Sunghoon says.

“Exactly. And when I realized that, I stopped giving it to him. I was getting tired of him anyway, saying the same thing every time. But now, I entertain him for a couple of minutes before I walk away. I shut him down before he gets a chance to do it to me.”

“That’s smart.”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “I understand the need for validation, but he won’t be getting any from me.”

Jay bravely handles the three drunkards the whole way home, letting you and Sunghoon hang behind and carry on talking. You reach the boy’s apartment first, and yours five minutes later. But when you reach your front door, Minjeong announces she needs to talk to Sunghoon. “Privately,” she emphasizes.

You give Sunghoon an amused look and shrug as if to say “She’s your problem now.” He doesn’t have time to protest before you’ve bid him goodnight and disappeared behind the door, Yunjin and Chaewon in tow, yelling good night at Sunghoon like they’re not going to see him for months. 

Minjeong places her palms flat onto Sunghoon’s torso and looks right at him—to the best of her ability, at least, considering she’s having a hard time focusing her eyes. “Sunghoon,” she says gravely.

“Minjeong?”

“Listen, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you,” she says, slurring her words. “You know I love Y/N, she’s amazing…”

“Yeah, she is,” Sunghoon says firmly—already, he can tell where this is going, and he doesn’t like it.

“But she’s not the best with relationships.”

“What do you mean?”

Minjeong’s hands drop by her sides and she exhales deeply. “I’ve just never seen her in a committed relationship in the-in the almost four years I’ve known her. She never lets things get serious. She’s just so afraid of being hurt, Hoon, and I-” 

A hiccup escapes Minjeong’s lips as tears start pooling in her eyes. Sunghoon has only ever seen Minjeong cry when drunk—even movies that had him sobbing barely made her eyes water. Even if she isn’t in her right state of mind, he knows it means this must be important to her. He holds her arms and tries to put on the most reassuring tone he can. “But I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“No, I know that. I’m scared you’d get hurt. I don’t want things to become weird between all of us.”

Sunghoon shakes his head. “Minjeong, what-that wouldn’t happen.”

“But it will!” she exclaimed. “If something happens with you and her, and it doesn’t work out the way you want it to, it’ll make things awkward-”

“If that happens,” he interrupts, “I’ll deal with it. I won’t make it your guys’ problem. Y/N and I are adults, okay?”

“You’re like, nineteen…”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t worry about it, okay? It’ll be fine.” He takes a step back and opens the door for her to get in. 

She’s only on the first stair when she turns back around. “But, Hoon-” she tries, though he cuts her off.

“Minjeong, I promise-”

“Just don’t rush into anything, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Go inside.” 

She complies, giving him one last look before climbing the stairs to her apartment. Sunghoon closes the door behind her, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

--

Sunghoon is on his way home from hockey practice when his phone buzzes with a text from you.

yn are you still up for doing something this week?

He almost throws his phone in the air in celebration, as if it was a graduation cap. His Sunday was spent going back-and-forth between lapidating himself for his drunken stupidity, memories, rough as stones, hitting him in the face every time he thought of what he said and how he acted, and congratulating himself for having finally made his feelings for you somewhat clearer. Hopefully, you now know he isn’t just awkward and silent around new people—well, he is, but it’s worse with you.

She never lets things get serious.

Minjeong’s warnings echo in his head as he types a positive — although not over-enthusiastic, ‘cause that’d be uncool — answer, but he dismisses them easily. Perhaps he shouldn’t; Sunghoon is, after all, incredibly serious about any and all romantic encounters. The girl at the grocery store who reached for the same red bell pepper as him was the most serious thing to him in the world for a good ten minutes; all of his school crushes were of utmost importance to him, however long they had lasted.

So this? This is capital-s Serious. But therein lies the problem; he’s so serious about you that he’d let you not make it serious. If Minjeong is right, and you’re not planning on taking this nearly as far as he wishes for it to go, he can already tell he’ll just let you. He’ll probably be happy you wanted anything to do with him at all. 

He has ways of reassuring himself, of convincing himself he isn’t a totally lost cause. Because when Sunghoon falls in love — and he had an inkling this was what this was — it usually goes as quickly as it came. Who’s to say this time next week he won’t have completely moved on? Maybe this date that he’s agreed to will go horribly wrong, you’ll be rude to the waiter, you’ll spill tomato sauce all over your shirt, and the flame in his heart will be put out. Easy as that.

You decide to meet on Wednesday evening, two days from now. Sunghoon suggests a Japanese restaurant he likes, a place he had gone to with his mom and sister when they had dropped him off at university before his first year, and that he knows is nice enough for a date but won’t burn a hole through his wallet.

Seeing you at the library the day before is a real thrill. Nobody but you knows of your plans—at least not until he caves in and tells Jay about it, who congratulates him with a roll of his eyes and a pat on the head. All of your eye contact feels loaded with the kind of complicity that comes with sharing a secret. As much as he would love boasting about it to every soul who’d listen, this secrecy electrifies him—it binds the two of you with something much more real than before. At least, more real than Sunghoon’s imagination and one-sided feelings. He knows that your text wasn’t in any way a confession of your own feelings for him, but it’s a step in the right direction.

In the few hours before your reservation at seven p.m., Sunghoon spends so much time thinking about the date that he’s almost late for it. He thinks about his expectations, then tries to get rid of them; he comes up with ideas of what your expectations might be, remembers Minjeong’s words, dismisses them, remembers them again; he goes through scenarios upon scenarios of everything that might go wrong and everything that might go spectacularly well. He ends up with less than twenty minutes to get ready, but manages to arrive at the restaurant a minute before you.

When he sees you approaching, Sunghoon feels like one of those boys in Disney movies as they watch their girlfriend coming down the stairs in her prom dress. You’re not wearing an over-the-top poofy purple dress, but the effect is the same—his eyes are glued on you with every step you take towards him.

You grab him by the arm and lead him into the restaurant as soon as you reach him. He’s too busy taking in your appearance to be bothered by it. “Don’t look at me like that,” you chide as you wait for waiting staff to seat you. He’d actually think you were mad at him if it wasn’t for the small smile playing on your lips.

“Like what?”

“Like what you’re doing right now! You’re staring.”

Realization slowly dawns on him; your gazes have made him lose his composure too many times for him not to know what being flustered looks like. He’d be lying if the fact that it was you in this tight spot and not him didn’t heavily stroke his ego. 

“Why wouldn’t I? You look beautiful,” he says, dropping his voice to a whisper so that the approaching waitress can’t hear. Her presence saves you from responding verbally, but as she brings you to your table, you pinch his arm lightly as if to say Be on your best behavior—although Sunghoon would argue this was his best behavior.

You have trouble making up your mind about the food—you want to try everything on the menu. Sunghoon tentatively offers to order a bunch of dishes and share them. “It’s what my family always does at the restaurant, just try as much as you want and take the leftovers to go. We never ate out very often because my mom would spend so much money every time,” he recollects, smiling fondly.

“That actually sounds like a dream. My parents would never do that. It was always just eat what you got, but I’m unable to look at someone else’s food and not want to try it. It honestly should just be common practice to share dishes at the restaurant.”

Sunghoon thinks he could get down on one knee right then and there. Whenever they went out to eat, the boys would roll his eyes at him when he stole bites of their food. But you—you’re like him. He knows he’s prone to over-exaggeration, but he can’t help but feel like if you understand each other on this, you must understand each other at a molecular level.

He had expected a level of awkwardness to your date, at least at the beginning — God knows the moments in which he doesn’t feel like a mumbling fool in front of you are few and far between — but to his surprise, everything goes smoothly. There is no uncomfortable silence, all his jokes miraculously land, even the lousy ones, and you both laugh and talk and share sushi and pork cutlets like it’s the most natural thing in the world, which perhaps it is. His attempts at flirting are well-received and he only turns violently red twice when you compliment him and smile at him in a particularly pretty way.

It’s that day at the beach all over again. Always on the same page, you dip in and out of topics with a synergy he has rarely felt before. Sunghoon realizes it must be the presence of others, rather than you yourself, that makes him feel like he can’t act the way he wants to around you, makes him so nervous. Save for the moments where you make his heart flutter like a thousand butterflies’ wings, he actually feels quite at ease with you, all things considered. Of course, he still tries — and fails — to look cool for you, but he knows it comes from a place within himself rather than because you make him feel as though he has to meet a certain standard. Surprisingly, he can be totally himself, and it seems to be enough for you.

He loves his friends. He wouldn’t trade them for the world. But he’s not sure he won’t have moments where he’ll wish nothing more than for them all to go away and leave the two of you be.

You eat until you can’t anymore and are still left with enough food for another full meal. You only let him get the bill once he’s promised that next time will be on you. If it means there’ll be a next time, he’s more than happy with making that promise. The sun has set when you exit the restaurant. Sunghoon shivers as he steps outside, the temperature having gone down by at least four degrees in the last two hours.

You grab his hand; it warms him right up.

Your apartment is a thirty-minute bus ride away, but Sunghoon offers to walk you home. Anything to spend more time with you.

He spends the first few minutes of the walk worrying about his hand, whether it’s too clammy, whether it’s holding yours right, but he eventually relaxes into the touch. When a particularly chilly gust of wind blows, you drop his hand and hold onto his arm instead, inching closer to him for more warmth.  He only drank lemonade with his meal, but he feels blissfully light-headed.

Silence only arrives when you reach your doorstep. You stand in front of each other, Sunghoon looking down at his feet, you gazing out at the empty street. He knows this is the moment where he is supposed to kiss you. If there was a step-by-step guide on how to date — there probably is, but Sunghoon hasn’t resorted to such loser-like measures yet — this would probably be the moment where it would be written to just kiss her, you idiot. But nerves get the best of him.

At least, you’re there to save the day. You direct your gaze towards him, a bashful smile playing on your lips. “So… are you gonna kiss me now?” you ask, essentially reading his mind. 

He reacts immediately. “Y-yep. Yes. I am.” Heart racing, he takes a step towards you as he rests his hands on your waist. Then he changes his mind, and brings one hand up to your cheek. There’s an eyelash that has fallen below your eye; he brushes it out of the way with his thumb before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours.

In all of his late-night scenarios and daydreams of kissing you, he had never imagined something as good as this. You find your rhythm within seconds. It’s slow, almost hesitant, yet so tender, it makes Sunghoon’s heart ache. As your lips move against each other in perfect sync, as your hands find their way around Sunghoon’s neck, he realizes he should have known — this will not go away as quickly as it came.

Only when you grab a fistful of his hair, making him react viscerally and wrap his arm around your waist to bring you closer to him, does he remember where the two of you are. He leans back, then almost passes out when you chase his lips and press a shorter but just as sweet kiss there. He commits this view to memory—the smile on your lips, the glow on your face, the haziness in your eyes.

“Do you wanna come up?”

“Yes,” he replies immediately, and it makes you laugh. You grab his hand and lead him up the stairs and into your apartment.

“Are the girls in?” he asks as you lock the front door.

“Minjeong is at karaoke with her school friends, and Yunjin and Chaewon are at a dinner party somewhere.”

“Minjeong karaokes?”

“Get enough G&Ts in her and she’ll do anything.”

You turn on a small lamp in your room and take off your jacket. Sunghoon has been in your apartment before, but never in your room—at some point, he’ll spend an hour observing every photograph and trinket in detail, asking you about every backstory, but right now, he’s got more important things to tend to. His heart beats uncontrollably as you shut the door to your room and walk towards him, eyes gazing deeply into his. The corners of your lips rise when you tug at the bottom of his sweatshirt, a clear indicator that you want it off. He wastes no time in obliging.

The air is buzzing with electricity when your lips find each other again. You’re both more confident this time around, and so the kiss is deeper, your touches bolder. Everything happens quickly—one second, you’re standing in the middle of your room; the next, you’re laying on your bed, Sunghoon underneath you. 

“You know,” he says between kisses, “I’d really planned on being a gentleman and not going up to your room after the first date…”

Your lips move from his lips to his jawline, warm and soft against his skin. Sunghoon closes his eyes and lets out a low hum of approval. “I’m glad you changed your mind,” you whisper, lips brushing against his neck as you speak. “And since we’re onto confessions, I can finally say I’ve been wanting to do this since we met.”

This information sends his mind reeling. Not once had he been sure of how you felt about him — he even remembers you saying no to a kiss — and here you are, saying you’ve been wanting to kiss him since the beginning, just like he had. 

“You’re me,” he replies breathlessly.

“Hm?”

“I mean, me too.”

You pause your kisses to giggle, a sound so soft and intimate it has Sunghoon melting impossibly more. “You’re me?”

Unfortunately, he is too preoccupied by you to put a filter between the weird, half-formed thoughts in his brain and the words that leave his mouth. “Don’t question it,” he says, a smile audible in his voice, before moving his head and catching your lips. If he couldn’t stop himself from saying odd things, he could at least distract you from them.

Sunghoon thinks he’s doing a good job keeping himself together, until you roll your hips against his. It’s barely anything, but it sends waves of pleasure and anticipation through his body. His grip on your waist tightens, and when you repeat the motion, his hands sneakily find their way down your back and under your dress. Palms splayed against your ass, he brings you down closer to him. The second you moan into the kiss, he’s a goner. 

After that, it doesn’t take long for clothes to be discarded or for curious fingers to find the other’s waistbands. Your movements are hasty, messy—the tension that had built up over weeks of pining for you, after getting close to kissing you twice and thinking about it a hundred times more, it all comes crashing down in this moment, as his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, as your hands pull at strands of his hair, as your bodies gently bump into each other. If someone asked Sunghoon right now how long he’d known you, he’d say years, not mere weeks. It couldn’t possibly be real that this much desire had accumulated inside of him — and inside of you, if your broken moans and rapid breathing are anything to go by — in just over a month. 

He only slows down when he has you naked and heaving underneath him, reminding himself to savor the moment instead of rushing it. His fingertips graze down your sides until they reach between your thighs, and he marvels at the way his touch makes you shiver. His eyes are so wide with amazement at the sight of you that he probably looks like he’s never seen a woman before, but he can’t help himself—he always thought you were beautiful, but this is something else entirely. 

His first touch is hesitant, a slow upward motion of his thumb between your folds as if quite literally testing the waters. But it has you arching your back and gripping his bicep, meeting his eyes to silently plead for more. Sunghoon takes that as his green light, thumb circling your clit as his lips continue their work on your neck, on your face, everywhere they can reach. He slips a finger inside of you, then a second one, and when he is satisfied with the state he’s gotten you in, all disheveled and gasping for air, he replaces his fingers with his dick, rock-hard just from seeing and hearing you.

He slowly inches forward until he’s bottomed out, letting you adjust around him. “All good?” he whispers, lips moving against the shell of your ear.

“Never better,” you whisper back, smiling. You kiss him, and the tenderness of your lips on his, mixed with the feeling of being inside you, has Sunghoon’s heart constricting inside his chest. He starts rocking his hips back-and-forth into you, the side of his face is pressed up against yours, head light from the little oxygen the two of you share. It all feels oddly intimate for a first time, feels more like the kind of sex two people would have after years of knowing each other’s bodies. He moves like it’s second nature, thrusts deep and slow, trying to reach those spots that have your hands clawing at his back. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, using his free hand to push the hair that sticks to your face with sweat.

You wrap your legs higher around his hips, the shift in angle letting him go deeper. “Fuck, right there,” you say, voice strangled. Sunghoon doesn’t need to be told twice—he picks up his pace, and already within a minute, starts to feel himself reaching his limit. He tries to muffle his groans against your skin, but with the way your hold on him tightens and your moans go higher in pitch, you seem to be just as close as he is. When you do come undone around him, breath hitching in your throat before you release a heavy sigh, he has mere seconds left in him. A few thrusts later, his orgasm finally releases him from the tension that had been twisting his stomach into a knot for the past half-hour. You’re both spent, but he continues lazily rocking his hips against yours chasing the last remnants of pleasure, wanting to bask in it just a bit longer. He rolls onto his back after sliding out, wrapping his arms around you. You bury your face in the crook of his neck.

His chest rises and falls as his breathing takes its time returning to normal. In a way, he’s almost relieved it’s over, like any longer would’ve actually taken too much of a toll on him. He likes the comfort he gets from having you in his arms as much as the sex itself. “I didn’t know it could feel this good,” he says, the words spilling out of his mouth before he can stop them. He needs more than a few minutes to get his head back on straight and start thinking before he speaks again. You chuckle airily, he chuckles too, and within seconds, you’re both laughing for seemingly no reason. The bliss of such an intense orgasm and the lack of oxygen must have gone to your brain, too.

“Me either,” you say once the laughter dies down. When your lips find his once more, Sunghoon forgets entirely about his exhaustion and feels like he could go for a second round. “Shower?” you ask right when he realizes how sticky and smelly he is.

“Yes, please.”

He can’t keep his hands off of you in the shower, rubbing soap on every square inch of your skin when you could do it perfectly fine yourself, kissing you even when you’ve both got foaming cleanser on your faces. The taste of soap in his mouth is worth the giggles he gets out of you.

Sunghoon reaches heaven when you drop to your knees in front of him, water rushing down his back as you take him in your mouth. He’s eager to return the favor, of course, thumb flicking your clit with a speed and dexterity even he didn’t know he was capable of. If you weren’t already in the shower, you’d have needed another one.

As soon as your bodies hit the mattress, you both drift off to sleep, limbs wrapping around each other as though they had been separated for too long and finally found each other again—not to let go again.

--

When Sunghoon wakes up, it takes him a few seconds to realize that he hadn’t dreamt up last night’s events. He reaches a hand out hesitantly, still half-asleep and scared that you’ll disappear into thin air at the touch of his fingertips. But no—he feels your skin, warm and soft, and he knows this is real.

You’re laying on your side, facing away from him, so he has to strain his neck to peek at your face. You look so peaceful as you sleep—he doesn’t want to wake you up, but he can’t stop himself from wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing his torso against your back, humming contentedly to himself. He presses a soft, quiet kiss to the top of your head, just because he can.

Outside, clouds part, and a bright ray of sun shines through the window, landing right on your face. Sunghoon watches as you grumble and turn around, burying your face in his chest to avoid the blinding light, but the damage is done—you’re awake. He can tell from the drawled-out whine you let out and the way you grab tightly onto his waist, as if it was his fault the sun had decided to shine right on you. 

He lets you settle in a comfortable position. Stays still as you hike your leg over his legs, then slip it between them instead; as you press your cheek against his chest, then bury your nose in his neck; as you wrap your arm around his waist, then move it to thread your fingers through his hair, until you give up on falling back asleep altogether. “It’s so bright in here,” you mumble in lieu of a good-morning greeting.

You can’t see him, so Sunghoon smiles and tightens his grip around you—one arm circling your shoulders, the other, your waist. Skin to skin. “We forgot to close the blinds yesterday.”

“It’s okay,” you say, sighing. You press a kiss to the base of his neck, right between his collarbones, then lift your face to look at him. “How are you feeling?”

This is what it feels like to wake up next to her, Sunghoon thinks. He’d thought about it so many times: what you would look like first thing in the morning, what you’d say to him, what it’d feel like when your eyes met. If you’d be a slow sort of morning person, cuddling in bed with him until the very last possible second, or if you’d be up and about as soon as you woke up. If you’d be grumpy. If you’d want coffee. If you liked morning sex. 

It seems to be a recurring theme that Sunghoon’s imagination never quite lives up to reality. Your sleepy eyes boring into his, struggling to stay open, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck; your skin, so warm and so soft, your scent, so intoxicating he can barely think straight.

You’re better than a dream.

“I feel great. Do you feel great?”

“I feel amazing, thank you so much for asking,” you say, burrowing yourself impossibly closer to him.

The two of you stay like this for a while, talking about your plans for the day and begrudging how little you want to go about them. Sunghoon wishes this could go on forever, but then his stomach growls so loudly, his face turns red from embarrassment. He hadn’t even noticed how hungry he was. 

“You’re me,” you say, laughing, and Sunghoon can’t help but join in. “Is it crazy to have last night’s leftovers for breakfast?”

What Sunghoon hears is that you want him to stay; that you don’t want to part ways just yet.

“If by crazy you mean the best idea ever, then yes.”

“Amazing, because I’ve been thinking about that curry all night.”

“Really? I was thinking about something else,” he says, burrowing his face in your neck and leaving warm kisses there. 

You hum and lean into his touches, leaning into his touches. Chills run down his spine as your nails graze his sides. “There might’ve been other things occupying my mind, too.”

And just like that, breakfast is postponed to thirty minutes later.

--

After that night, Sunghoon forgets how to act right.

His mind has never been so singularly taken up by sex in all of his life. It was already preoccupied with you most of the time, but now that it has more material to gnaw on, it’s practically started to eat away at him. It doesn’t help that you’ve seen each other every day since, or that at every chance you get, you smile knowingly at him or try to get him to play footsies with you. Of course, he loves every bit of attention that he gets from you, but whenever he feels his heart get carried away, Minjeong’s words come back to him in a panic, and he remembers that he has no idea what it is that’s happening between you and him. You could be stringing him along, for all he knows, or you could be as into him as he is into you and just letting things happen. Unfortunately, just letting things happen was not something Sunghoon was good at—if things weren’t written black and white, he’d find a way to overthink even the littlest of details. Like how you’d kissed him for a good five minutes before letting him leave your apartment, otherwise known as the least platonic parting to exist, or conversely, like how you’d sometimes take hours to reply to texts.

If he was already a mumbling fool in front of you before, his condition has only worsened now. He tries his best to be normal and not make you or anyone in the group feel weird, but the fact is that you rocked his world and now he can’t look you in the eyes and not remember how it felt when you touched him or the sounds you made or the way you looked. It’s all playing in a loop in his mind and the only way he knows how to control it is by limiting his interactions with you, which doesn’t even work that well. 

The first couple days, you seem amused by his shyer-than-usual demeanor, but you quickly grow confused more than anything. Sunghoon won’t sit next to you, only speaks to you when necessary, doesn’t seek you out outside of a group setting. He tells himself he just needs some more time to be able to be around you casually again, but before that happens, one day at the library, you make a point to ask him if he’ll come help you get drinks for everyone from the dispenser machine. He knows it’d be too odd to say no, so he follows you.

He presses the buttons for everyone’s order (a Sprite for him, Diet Cokes for the girls, a Red Bull for Jake who has a midterm tomorrow and nothing for Jay who only swears by his disgusting herbal infusion) as you lean against the machine, arms crossed over your chest as you stare at him.

He has never felt so awkward in his life.

“So…” he starts although he has no idea what to say—he hopes something will just appear in his mind and that it’ll alleviate the tension. However, you seem to have other plans.

“What the hell, Sunghoon?” you say, taking him aback. When he glances at you, you don’t seem angry—just genuinely confused. “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

“I haven’t!”

“Sunghoon,” you say sternly. He gives in right away.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I just-I didn’t know what to do. After we, you know…”

“After we had sex?” you say, then burst into laughter when he looks around the room to make sure no one’s heard. His cheeks heat up.

“Yes, after we had sex,” he whispers.

He pays for the drinks and picks them up. When he looks at you again, your smile has completely died down, and worry has settled into your features. “Do you regret it?” you ask, voice now as low as his. As if it hurts to say the words too loud.

Panic overcomes him, and he almost drops half of the drinks as he shakes his head. “No, of course not! I’m really sorry, Y/N, I never meant to be weird about it, I was just trying to wrap my head around everything, and I just… Well, I just didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”

You nod, taking his words in. “That’s fine. I get it. I just wanted to say, you know, it doesn’t have to change anything. We can still be friends and all. Like you said, it shouldn’t make things weird.”

Sunghoon’s stomach drops. He knows you’re trying to make him feel better, but you’ve inadvertently said the exact opposite of what he wanted to hear. He doesn’t want things to stay the same, or for you to stay friends. For him, things can’t go back to normal after that night — whatever normal means for the two of you — and he was foolishly hoping that you felt the same.

But clearly, you want to let the whole thing die and pretend like it never happened. And whether it’s a good thing or not, his feelings for you have grown so much, he’ll just let you lead him anywhere. Even if that turns out to be nowhere. 

So he conjures up the most convincing smile he can, hands you half of the drinks to carry, and says, “Yeah, sounds good.”

--

After that conversation, Sunghoon doesn’t think anything else will happen between the two of you. You had sex, you talked it out, and that’s the end of it. But then, it turns out that both of your last midterms are at the same time, in the same building, so you invite him to celebrate with pork belly and some drinks. Sunghoon is finishing his second beer when he starts to feel like he’s on that date again, laughing for no reason, butterflies in his stomach every time his gaze catches yours. You lean on your hand as you listen to him talk about a stupid memory from his childhood and he thinks he’s never seen anyone as pretty as you. 

The sun has long set when you say, “You know, it’s Wednesday today.”

He’s not sure what you’re trying to get at. “Yeah?”

“Minjeong’s out at karaoke tonight.”

With these simple words, all the images of you that Sunghoon had finally managed to banish from his mind come flooding back, and he is not even surprised to find himself half-naked in your bed thirty minutes later. So much for staying friends—one time is one thing, but Sunghoon knows he’ll never be normal again after a second time with you.

It’s not a long time before he finds himself in your room again. Every item of clothing between the two of you is gradually discarded while you kiss, lips growing more impatient with every inch of bare skin uncovered. He reluctantly lets you go when you suddenly giggle and say that you really need to pee, watching as you grab his t-shirt off the floor and put it on, just in case Minjeong comes home. You wear it like it’s yours, like it’s the most natural thing in the world that you’d be wearing his clothes. An indescribable feeling washes over Sunghoon at the sight, so intense he feels tears welling behind his eyes. Like something he’s been yearning for is finally at the grasp of his fingers; like it might slip away at any moment. 

His feelings must’ve transpired in the way he was looking at you—when you meet his eyes, your expression shifts slightly, and you quickly slip out of your room. He tells himself to reel it in. Get it together, he thinks. Or you’ll drive her away. 

A wave of tiredness hits him in the minute that you’re gone, probably due to all that soju and beer. “I’m back,” you whisper, but he doesn’t move, only opens his arms wide for you to get back into bed with him. It’s like a weight is lifted off his heart when he feels you against him again. You’re back. Your face is fresh, as if you’d splashed it with cold water, but when he slips one of his hands underneath your (his) t-shirt, your skin is still just as warm as before. Far from the fuzzy, tingly feeling he had gotten when you’d woken up together the other morning, now, he feels his desire for you deep in the pit of his stomach. The kind of hunger food couldn’t satisfy. “I missed you,” he whispers, voice low and gravelly. He reacts immediately when you squirm against him, tightening his grip around your waist and pulling you to him.

“I was gone two minutes.”

“I mean these past few days. I was starting to think I’d dreamt you up.” His hand on your lower back sneaks its way up between your bodies until it finds your breasts, cupping one of them with his palm before taking your nipple between his thumb and index, gently twisting. It pulls a half-gasp, half-moan from your throat, and the sound goes straight to his dick. “But you’re real, aren’t you?” 

“Very real,” you reply, a tremor in your voice. He’s barely touching you, and you’re already having trouble breathing. Sunghoon smiles at the idea of him having as much of a hold on you as you do on him.

“Good,” he says, voice so low it’s almost a growl. In one quick sweep, he pushes you down so your back is against the mattress, resting his palms on each side of your head.

He’s inside you within mere minutes. He’d wanted to hold back a bit, but you whispering Just put it in after thirty seconds of his fingers loosening you up was enough to convince him. His mind is already fuzzy with remnants of alcohol, and his overwhelming desire for you only makes matters worse. He barely has any control over his movements, rushed and sloppy, but as he drives himself deeper into you, your moans increase in volume. He only later realizes how tight his grip on your hips is when he sees two small bruises forming on the skin there. 

He comes quickly, probably embarrassingly so, but he can’t bring himself to care—he’s got other things on his mind. He’s not even bothered to discard the condom as he makes his way down your body, lips around your clit before you’ve even had the time to register what was happening. You cry out, a sound that Sunghoon works to pry out of you over and over again. Even when your thighs start shaking and you squirm away from him, he doesn’t relent. He’s just as desperate to make you feel good as he was desperate chasing his own pleasure earlier. He hooks his arms around your thighs, bringing you down to him and ensuring that you can’t get away. One hand still in his hair, the other clutching the bed sheets, you’ve turned your face sideways into the pillow so that your moans come out muffled. He is only satisfied when you’ve reached your second orgasm. 

As your breath slowly returns to normal, Sunghoon makes his way back up your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. You clear your throat of its dryness and burst into soft, quiet laughter. “What’s funny?” Sunghoon murmurs, lips against your neck. 

“Nothing,” you say, still laughing. “That was just really, really nice.”

Sunghoon smiles. “I’m glad,” he says before kissing you, lips moving slowly against yours.

As he lays against you, the top of his head under your chin and your fingernails grazing along his back, a weird feeling overcomes him. Sunghoon is usually a pine-from-afar sort of guy, with at least five instances of hanging out that could or could not be a date before making things any sort of official. The pining has been a constant with all of his crushes. He’s gotten to the hanging out stage a couple of times, but the officialising has only happened once. Despite its low success rate, it’s a cycle Sunghoon feels comfortable with, and he’d imagined the rest of his romantic encounters would follow that pattern. 

But this is completely different. Of the three times you guys have met separately from your friend group, already two times have included sex. This isn’t a stage Sunghoon usually reaches before at least a few months and it disorientates him. What does it mean? That you like him so much, you decided to skip all of the steps and jump straight into the thick of it? He is reasonable enough not to delude himself into such a thought. He likes you a lot—that much he can be sure of. He’s liked you since the moment he laid eyes on you, even if the reason eludes him. Something in the way you smiled at him, the way you took him in stride as if you’d known him forever. When he thinks back to that party, he can’t believe it started out as the two of you being strangers. Even now, feeling your warm skin against his, it feels like a lie that just two months ago he hadn’t even met you. 

What he can’t say with total certainty is that you like him the same amount. Or that you like him any amount, really, although in his naivety he doesn’t understand how anyone could be this intimate with another person without liking them at least a little bit. And he doesn’t just mean the sex. He means this. The silently laying in each other’s arms, the soft kisses, the caresses wherever hands can reach. Eating post-sex snacks together, laughing as you watch the first episode of each other’s favorite sitcoms (Brooklyn Nine-Nine for him, Pen15, oddly enough, for you). Falling asleep together, cuddling the entire night then waking up and diving right back into each other’s embrace. 

After an entire day spent in rumination, Sunghoon’s still not sure what to make of it all.

All he knows is that when he DMs you that night, asking you how your day went, he goes through every emotion between anxiety, self-hatred and indifference in the five minutes that separate his text from your reply. He’s never been so happy to hear that someone couldn’t concentrate in class because of him.

--

Sunghoon has always been obsessed with the way couples stand together in public. 

Every time, it takes everything in him not to stare, because he wants to take in every little thing they do. He has that practically everywhere he goes, wanting to stare at people just to see what their deal is, but he is never quite as simultaneously fascinated and envious as when he spots a couple. But he knows staring isn’t the socially appropriate thing to do, so he either steals glances or watches for a little bit then pretends they aren’t there. He can’t help himself—even if they aren’t holding hands or obnoxiously making out in public, it’s still visible to anyone with eyes that there is something tying these people together. It’s in the way they stand near each other, their bodies turned inwardly, as though enveloped by a bubble containing just the two of them and no one else; in the way they look at each other, their eyes never straying from the other’s face as they talk, intimacy showing itself even in a loud, crowded room. Sunghoon craves to find that proximity, to be able to touch and be touched so softly, every graze of a hand purposeful and unconscious at the same time.

It’s the first of November already. The Weather app, as it tends to do, has deceived you; so instead of a walk on what was supposed to be a sunny day, you find yourselves in a busy café near the University, the air outside too chilly even with your scarves and gloves. You’re waiting for your order at the end of the counter — a mocha for him, an oat flat white for you — when he notices it. Your body is fully facing him, you’re distractedly playing with the hem of his sweatshirt, and you’re not looking at anything but him as you rant about that annoying classmate of yours that goes by a self-made nickname and always talks over the tutor. In this light, the two of you are like the couples he’s always longed to be—the simple thought makes him want to cry. As more and more often is the case these days, you have no idea what you’re doing to him.

It’s been around two months since you first met and in that time, although Sunghoon is lucky not to have enough fingers to count the number of times you have seen each other one-on-one, not much has happened. Minjeong, who had understood what was going on the first time she saw the two of you eating leftovers from the Japanese restaurant on the couch at 10 a.m., has grown accustomed to his presence in the apartment and even sometimes sits down to watch a movie with the two of you—a movie that Chaewon would usually have forced you to watch in the living room instead of the privacy of your bedroom, so that everyone could join. Sunghoon is just glad Minjeong has stopped silently scolding him with her eyes every time he comes out of your room. She never mentions that night when she essentially warned him against you after the party. 

Jake seems to be the only oblivious one in your group. Yunjin and Chaewon have eyes like hawks and horrifyingly vivid imaginations when they put their heads together, so they were probably already making plans for your wedding and fighting for the title of godmother when you and Sunghoon met at the beginning-of-semester party. They cornered him once at a party and forced him to spill the beans and spare no detail, because you apparently were “denying everything, but we know there’s something going on.” Jay is still Sunghoon’s go-to person when he needs advice concerning you, although the older boy doesn’t understand why it has to be so complicated and always tells him to “just tell her how you feel,” which Sunghoon will not do unless there is a gun to his head. But Jake just seems happy to see his friend and his sister get along this well—no matter how many times you wear his jacket at their games or disappear at the same time at the end of parties, he doesn’t grow suspicious. If he does, he doesn’t mention it to Sunghoon, at least.

Between the two of you, not a word is spoken about the nature of your relationship, which remains unbearingly undefined. For a while, he weakly convinces himself that he doesn’t need to have that conversation with you. He’s young, he’s free, he should be able to enjoy casual sex without putting a label on it. The main problem, though, was that the sex could not be further from casual, at the very least not to Sunghoon.

He has never known anything quite like it. In mere weeks, you’ve both mastered the art of pleasuring each other. He understands your body like it’s his, knows what each of the sounds and expressions you make means. He knows where to touch you to have a kiss go from light-hearted to dizzyingly intense, how to move his mouth to have you arching your back and holding onto him for dear life. And you—he thinks your skin must be laced with cocaine, the way he can never get enough of it. 

But it’s always the moments afterwards that get him in his head. To him, casual sex means getting dressed the minute it’s over and going off to do other things, which is the absolute opposite of what you do. Whether it’s falling asleep together or spending Sundays in bed, you always stay together afterwards, curled up in each other’s arms as you talk away the hours, conversations interspersed with slow, lazy kisses. He’ll say things like, “You’re so pretty,” or “Why do you smell so good?” because he’s so smitten with you that he can never stop himself from uttering every compliment that flashes through his brain, but the things he really wants to say are harder to speak out loud. Even just a What are we?—three simple words that he can’t bring himself to ask, too scared it’ll ruin everything. 

Arguably worse is that sex isn’t even a requirement for when you and Sunghoon see each other. He goes on walks with you whenever you’ve spent too much time in the library and need some fresh air. You go shopping with him when his department throws a fundraiser and he needs a formal outfit. He cooks you your favorite meal when your period is particularly nasty. You sneak into the ice rink after his practice and let him ‘teach’ you how to skate, even though you already learned how with Jake when you were kids. Even mundane moments become fun when spent with you, and you share so many hobbies and interests that you never run out of things to do or talk about.

And yet, it feels like one step forward, two steps back with you—if you let him close one night, you’ll run away the next. A week will pass without you seeing each other outside of the library or group hang-outs, and if Sunghoon asks you out, you’ll say no, usually blaming the amount of work you have. He gets it—due to the nature of your degree and your being a fourth-year student, your workload is much heavier than his, with essays, translations and oral presentations due every other week. And that’s not even including midterms and finals. But still, he doesn’t see why you would need to stay at the library for ten hours straight for days on end. He’d start worrying about your health if you didn’t at least relax on weekends. 

So while Sunghoon wants nothing more than to go all in with you, he senses you holding back. He notices you avoiding eye contact during particularly intimate moments, and when you look at him perhaps too fondly for your liking, you quickly catch yourself and resume your neutral, sometimes almost cold expression. When he tries to broach more personal, sensitive topics, you always find a way to change the subject or turn the conversation towards him before you get too deep. 

As time passes, and especially as exam season nears, he can tell there’s something that you’re not telling him about. His suspicions are confirmed when you come back from a weekend at your parents’ house. He’s also been away for an out-of-town hockey game, and because he hasn’t had much time to text you (and because their team won, so he wants to show off a little), he’s particularly looking forward to seeing you again that Monday. It’s only been three days since you’ve last seen each other, but he misses you like crazy. 

But the minute you’re back, you bury yourself in work like never before, often waking up at ungodly hours and staying at the library until midnight. More than once, he stays behind with you, long after the others have gone, reminding you gently every hour that it might be time to go home and get some rest. The moments you actually agree are few and far between, and although he sticks it out at first, sleeping with his head on the table until you tell him you’re ready to go, your stubbornness soon starts frustrating him, and he ends up leaving when he gets too tired. He knows this is important to you, but he doesn’t understand why you have to go to these lengths—you’d still easily be one of the best students in your class without all this exertion. And despite his many attempts, you won’t tell him what’s wrong, won’t even admit that something is wrong—you keep repeating that “it’s just what exam season is like.”

When he asks your friends about it, they seem just as confused as he is. One evening when you have plans to order some food and watch a movie at your apartment, he shows up at the agreed time, but you’re nowhere to be found. Thankfully, the girls are there to let him up and not leave him standing outside in the rain. You don’t pick up when he calls you and call him back a minute later, apologizing profusely but still saying that there’s something you really need to finish first. If it was only a one-time thing, it wouldn’t make him as angry as it does—but this has been going on for almost two weeks now, and Sunghoon is close to boiling point. 

The fact that it’s been months since your date at the Japanese restaurant, and the only thing that you’ve said about what was happening between you and Sunghoon “didn’t have to change anything.” The fact that you’re essentially each other’s boyfriend and girlfriend without the label or the reassurance that comes with it. The fact that there’s something clearly bothering you but that you won’t tell him about it. The fact that this something is effectively coming between the two of you. Sunghoon was originally more worried about you than anything—now that studying has taken obvious precedence over him in your list of priorities, he’d be lying if he said his ego wasn’t wounded. He isn’t asking to be the number one most important thing in your life, and he knew before even meeting you that high academic performance meant a lot to you, but he likes to think he deserves at least a little bit of your time and attention. 

Except, does he really? It’s not like you’re actually dating.

There’s a pang in his heart as he remembers this fact that he should never have forgotten in the first place. It hurts—and so perhaps, he’s less patient than he ought to be.

“Whatever, Y/N. Don’t worry about it, just let me know when you have time for something other than getting As.”

He hangs up and meets your flatmates’ worried eyes. 

“She still at the library?” Chaewon asks, tone delicate as if trying not to scare off a wounded animal. Sunghoon nods, a deep sigh escaping his mouth. 

“She always studies a lot,” Minjeong starts, “but this is something else.”

“Have you guys tried saying something?”

The girls nod. “Even Jake has talked to her, but she won’t listen. And he usually always gets to her,” Minjeong says. 

He goes home soon afterwards and spends the rest of his evening in rumination, torn between his worry and his anger towards you—emotions which only increase as more days pass, and he sees less and less of you. Your behavior was already concerning while preparing for your exams and final assignments, it gets even worse when exams actually do start. He doesn’t hear from you for an entire week, and the one time you miraculously agree to a short group hang-out in the form of getting coffee, you’re only half there, physically present but mind far, far away. You barely react when the guys tell you about their victory at the latest hockey game—which you didn’t attend, as well as any other game recently. 

No matter how much he tries to put it out of his mind, to focus on his own exams and hockey games, you stay at the forefront of his thoughts. The hockey team is away for another out-of-town game when he decides to broach the subject with Jake, with whom he’s sharing a room. The entire semester, he’s been careful not to raise Jake’s suspicions about the two of you, both out of consideration for you, who’d mentioned you didn’t want your brother to know what was going on, and for himself, who would also rather Jake not know, at least not until your relationship became official. Which it never did. But now that all he gets from you is radio silence at a time when you’d usually be an hour into a FaceTime call, he can’t help himself.

Jake is just coming out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel, when Sunghoon takes his shot in the dark. “Have you heard from Y/N recently?” he asks as nonchalantly as he can, pretending to not be avidly waiting for his friend’s reaction by keeping his eyes on his phone.

“Y/N?” Jake echoes. “No, not really. Why?”

“Just ‘cause I haven’t seen her around much. I’m wondering if everything’s okay.”

“You mean her staying at the library all day?” Sunghoon nods; Jake sighs. “Yeah, she’ll snap out of it soon enough. She gets somewhat like this every time exams come around, but even I have to admit it’s pretty tough this time around. The last time I saw her like this was way back in high school, and that’s because our parents were watching right over her shoulder. It’s been better in university thanks to the distance.”

“So this has to do with your parents?”

“Oh, one hundred percent. She’s always wanted to do well at school, but she only gets this obsessive when our parents are involved.”

“I guess this did start after that weekend when she went home…” Sunghoon muses absent-mindedly. It could’ve passed off as an off-hand remark, but Jake pauses in his movements and looks at him warily.

“Yeah, she did… You noticed that, huh?”

Sunghoon pauses. This whole time, he was sure Jake was oblivious to anything happening between you and him—but he might have underestimated his friend. Like brother, like sister; he can hardly read either of you when he really needs to. Jake might genuinely be surprised that Sunghoon remembered your whereabouts that weekend, or he’s onto him. “I guess I did,” he finally says, going for as noncommittal an answer as he can.

Jake says nothing for a bit, and Sunghoon thinks he’s managed to get through the conversation without raising too much suspicion—until a minute later, when Jake speaks again. “Do you… like Y/N?”

Sunghoon freezes, snapping his head towards Jake, who’s lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. His first instinct is to deny, but there’s no point pretending anymore. It’s one thing keeping it from Jake—lying to him about it is something else entirely. It’s an uncomfortable conversation, but it must be had. “Yeah, I do,” Sunghoon replies, guilt clear in his voice, more because he’s only now admitting it to Jake than because of his feelings themselves.

A shaky breath comes out of Jake’s mouth, as if this was the exact answer he had dreaded. “Right, okay. Since when?”

“Since I met her, basically.”

Jake’s head whips towards Sunghoon, and their gazes meet awkwardly. “Since that party in September?” he asks, shock written all over his face. Sunghoon nods, and to his surprise, Jake bursts out laughing. “Don’t tell me it’s because you accidentally matched costumes?”

Sunghoon looks away, frowning. “That might’ve helped things along,” he mumbles, embarrassment washing over him as Jake’s laughter intensifies. At least he was taking it well—a bit too well, perhaps.

“You’re so predictable, man,” Jake says when he’s calmed down, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“How did you know, anyway?”

“You’ve been pretty obvious with it recently,” Jake replies after a few seconds. “I could tell you were a bit shy around her at first, and when it got better I just thought you’d become friends or something. But when she showed up with your jacket at every game and you never left her side at parties, I assumed something else was going on. You’ve always been staying behind at the library these days, and I know you don’t have that much work.”

Sunghoon chuckles. “I guess I haven’t been trying hard to hide it lately.”

“Yeah, why would you hide it in the first place? You could’ve just told me.”

“I didn’t want to make things weird.”

Jake frowns. “It wouldn’t have been weird. If anything, hiding it makes it weirder.”

“I just thought, if one of my friends had a crush on my sister, I’d probably rather they hid it. Like, I don’t need to know about that,” Sunghoon says, and it makes Jake laugh.

“Dude, Y/N and I are only a year apart. Do you know how many guys have come up to me asking me for her number or advice on how to ask her out? It’s been, like, one every few months since middle school. Guys here especially have no shame telling me how hot they find her.”

Sunghoon makes a face. He doesn’t disagree, but he’d never go out of his way to tell your brother how exquisite you looked in certain outfits. “That’s gross.”

“Yeah, it is. But you’re my friend, not some greasy rando, so I trust you. If anything, I’d probably have to tell her to be nice to you, and not the other way around.”

“Yeah, you could say that again,” Sunghoon grumbles, then realizes his mistake immediately, eyes widening.

“What do you mean?” Jake asks, sounding genuine at first, but when Sunghoon stays quiet for a couple seconds, debating whether he should just lay the truth bare, Jake sits up on the bed and repeats his question, his tone much warier this time around. Sunghoon glances at him then looks away guiltily.

“Well, to be completely honest… We’ve sort of been seeing each other, kind of. But it’s complicated.”

Jake flops back down on his mattress with a grunt. “Who else knows?” he asks, rubbing at his eyes with his hands as if suddenly very exhausted.

“Everyone…”

“Everyone?!”

“Well, Jay, Minjeong, Yunjin and Chaewon.”

“So everyone.”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Great.” Jake sighs. “Since when?”

“Since October,” Sunghoon mumbles, feeling guiltier than ever. He’s belatedly realizing that it would’ve been much easier to have everything out in the open from the get-go, both with you and with Jake; now he’s both stuck in situationship limbo and has to face the consequences of keeping something this important from one of his closest friends. “Are you upset?” Sunghoon asks, feeling a bit like a ten-year-old.

“Kinda, yeah, but more at her than at you. I’ve told her not to go after anyone from the hockey team.”

“‘Cause of Heeseung?”

“Yeah. God, that was messy. He gave her mixed signals for so long, I could barely talk to him without thinking of her crying for so long. And now he’s the one who can’t quite look me in the eye,” Jake says, shaking his head at the mere thought of his captain.

“Was it that bad? She made it seem like it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “Really? It upset her for a while though,” he says, then turns his head to look at the ceiling again. “I guess that’s not so surprising of her. She sometimes likes pretending she doesn’t have any emotions, even though I’m pretty sure she has more than most people.”

“Huh.” That would explain some things, Sunghoon muses. Emotions are not a topic that comes up very often with you, and every time he’s gotten an inkling of them, you seem to shut it all down immediately.

“But you know, I’m more surprised than anything. About… about it all, really. Not just that you’re only telling me now, but that it’s lasted this long. She must really like you.”

“You think?” Sunghoon says, his face brightening with hope, the words slipping from him before he can stop them once again. He shrinks when Jake laughs at him.

“Look at you. Down bad, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“But yeah, dude. I’ve told you about this. I’ve never seen her in a relationship, ever. Says she doesn’t have the time,” Jake says, air-quoting you. “I’ve only had the displeasure of seeing her go home with one-night-stands. You know that since she started college, she’s had a rule that she’d only see someone three times and that was it?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, so she wouldn’t catch feelings. I’m telling you, she’s crazy. So you must be special.”

Sunghoon can’t stop the smile from spreading on his lips—special. But it doesn’t make him feel that much better, either. “It’s not like we’re actually dating, so I’m not sure how special I can be…”

Jake’s head turns to look at Sunghoon again, but the younger boy keeps his eyes trained on the ceiling fan above him. “What’s happening between you guys?”

A blush creeps on Sunghoon’s cheeks. “Is this something you really want to talk about?”

“Well, spare me the gruesome details, please,” Jake says, chuckling, “but yeah, I would like to know what’s going on with my best friend and my sister.”

“I’m your best friend?” Sunghoon says, grinning as he meets Jake’s gaze, who rolls his eyes.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Fine.” He sighs. “Well, I didn’t think it would happen more than once-”

“What would happen more than once?”

Sunghoon pauses. “Well, you know…” Jake gives him a look as if to say, Well, no, I don’t know, so Sunghoon is forced to go on: “Sleeping together.”

“You guys slept together?!” Jake exclaims, sitting up on his bed once again.

“Yeah, what did you think?”

“I don’t know, just that you were going on dates, hanging out one-on-one, or whatever…”

“Well, we were.”

“Ugh, whatever,” Jake says, waving his hand in front of his face like swatting a fly away. “So, not just once, then?”

“No. And I thought it’d be a one-time thing, ‘cause a few days afterwards she said something about it not having to change our friendship…”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. But then it did. Happen again, I mean. And it’s been happening frequently since. But we’re not… dating dating. We haven’t had that conversation.”

Jake frowns. “Why not?”

Sunghoon releases a shaky breath. Why not, indeed. “‘Cause she hasn’t mentioned it. And I’m too scared to do it.”

“What are you scared of?”

“The typical stuff. What we have now… it’s not what I want, but it’s managed to not disrupt the group, you know. I’m scared that if I tell her how I feel, it’ll make things awkward between the two of us, and between all of us by extension.”

“Well, it might,” Jake says after thinking for a few seconds. “I wish I could tell you with certainty that she’ll like you back, but I honestly can’t. As obvious as you were towards her, she was not giving anything away.” Sunghoon chuckles, more out of self-deprecation than anything. This was not the pep talk he had hoped for. “But, I can tell you that she won’t be the type to make things awkward. You have nothing to risk by telling her, because in the long run, you’ll be better off that way. I know you, Sunghoon. You’ll be miserable if you can’t be fully yourself with someone.”

Decidedly, Sunghoon’s friends had a way of telling him the exact opposite of the things he wanted to hear while being completely right. He wishes things with you could stay the same — minus the overworking yourself and ignoring him in the process — and that he wouldn’t have to do anything that might make them change. But just as Jake said, he’d also reach a point where he couldn’t take it anymore—a point he was already inching closer and closer to with every passing day. He likes you enough to let you not define the relationship, but he likes you too much to let it go on. He likes you too much to not be able to tell you, and show you, and remind you of it every day. He hated having to hold back, and he hated feeling you holding back. He wanted to give you his all and he wanted all of you, too, not just bite-sized portions of you.

“You’re right,” he finally says. “I haven’t been able to talk to her lately, but I’ll have to tell her soon enough. When her exams are over, I guess.”

Jake sighs. “Yeah. I don’t know if there’s any getting through to her right now.”

“She’s blown me off so many times! I don’t know what she’s doing, spending so many hours in that library. I’d go insane.”

“She’s a perfectionist,” Jake says, shaking his head. “I’ve talked to her about it. When it comes to school, she needs everything to be as flawless as can be. She spends hours re-reading and editing her work. It’s not good.”

“Not really, no.”

“But she’s only got a week left. I’ll try to convince her not to go home for too long, and it’ll be better after the holidays. Then we’ll make sure there’s not a repeat of this next exam season.”

He thinks of Christmas break and of not seeing you for two weeks; of next semester and going through all of this with you a second time. The uncertainty, the fooling around behind your friends’ backs — although that might not be needed now that Jake is in on it too — Sunghoon’s not sure if he can go through it all again. “Yeah, we will.”

--

They lose their game the following day. They had an amazing run, either winning or tying every game so far; this loss is not enough to make them drop significantly in the rankings, but it’s enough to demoralize Sunghoon. It couldn’t have come at a worse time—between you and this failed game, his self-esteem is taking a real hit.

He dared hope for some comfort from you once he was back, but in vain. He doesn’t know why he imagined your attitude might’ve changed overnight, and when he texts you asking to hang out, the same old sorry I can’t atm fills his phone screen. And just like that, as strong as his feelings for you have been all this time, so is his resentment—unwarranted, perhaps, but he thinks he deserves better than this, and he’s both angry at you for not giving him anything and at himself for letting it happen.

Now, he’s the one who spends hours working himself to the bone in the ice rink, who’s clearly preoccupied with other things when everyone gets together, and who doesn’t even show up to the party the whole group goes to when you’re all done with exams. The last game before winter break is in two days, and he doesn’t want to waste a day nursing a hangover when he could be practicing.

That night, he thinks everyone is out at some random club downtown, so he does a double-take when it’s past eleven p.m. and you show up at the rink. He’s skating laps, practicing his speed and his goal-shooting, only noticing you when you’re standing in the middle of the rink. He almost skates right into you.

“Y/N?” he asks, not completely sure you’re not just a figment of his imagination. He’s so exhausted, he wouldn’t be surprised if he were dreaming you up.

“Jay texted me.”

“Oh. Why?” He’s out of breath, and the words come out blunter than he intends them to.

“Because it’s almost midnight and you’re still here,” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. There’s a hint of a smile on your lips, but your eyebrows are furrowed in what looks like worry. It’s the first time Sunghoon’s seeing you concerned over something other than an assignment. 

He shrugs and resumes his laps, slower this time, forcing you to keep turning on your feet. “I’m practicing. There’s a big game coming up.”

“Which is exactly why you should be resting, like everyone else on your team right now.”

He resists rolling his eyes. “Why would I rest when I could be getting better?”

“Because you need rest as much as you need practice. You won’t be any use on the rink if you’re too tired to play properly.”

“And I won’t be any use if I can’t shoot properly, either.”

“Sunghoon, you need a break. You’re clearly exhausted-Will you stop it?” you suddenly snap. “I’m trying to talk to you, and I’m getting dizzy.” 

Your small outburst only has him growing more agitated, and even though he does stop, it’s more so you can see the annoyance on his face than anything. “You know, this is a bit rich coming from you, Y/N.” He knows this is not the right time to bring this up—if he has grievances against you, he shouldn’t be bringing them up when he’s already frustrated. He’s well aware of this, but he can’t help himself.

You scoff. “Excuse me?”

“You’re the one who spends twelve hours a day in the library during exams and does not budge even if I tell you you should go home.”

“That’s different-”

“How is it any different?” he interrupts, voice rising. “You don’t listen to me when you overwork yourself. I don’t see why I should.”

“So you realize that you’re overworking yourself?”

“Of course I do! But I have to.”

“No, you don’t-”

“Y/N, please. I have to win as much as you have to get the top grades. Is it actually necessary? No, but you know how shit it feels not to.”

“And it’s exactly because I know that feeling that I’m telling you to stop. You’re just feeding into it.”

“So are you, staying until 2 a.m. in the library. You’ve never once gone home when I asked you to.”

“Again, that’s different-”

“How?! How is it different? Please enlighten me, ‘cause they’re the exact same thing to me.”

You sigh. A sudden sadness appears on your face. Sunghoon is torn between wanting to see this to its end and taking everything he’s said back. But he keeps quiet, and your eyes, when they meet his again, harden. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

“Yes.”

As if you couldn’t say your next words while looking at him, you tear your gaze away from his face. “Because I’m actually concerned about you, here. The only reason you want me to stop and go home is so we can fuck.”

Sunghoon is so astounded that all words fail him—he stares at you, mouth wide open like you just shot him. After a few seconds, all he’s able to come up with is an incredulous, “What?” His voice is a mere whisper. 

“You heard me,” you say coldly.

He closes his mouth and swallows. “So… you’re the one who’s worried, and I’m only after sex?”

You glance at him. “Yeah.”

A chuckle escapes Sunghoon’s throat, then another, until laughter spills out of him uncontrollably. He feels like the world is upside down. How could you have lived the same thing and come out of it with such different perspectives? Your account of his intentions with you is so ridiculous and unfathomable to him that he can’t do anything but laugh.

You seem taken aback at first, but your surprise quickly turns into annoyance. “Something funny?”

“Hilarious, actually,” he says, holding his stomach. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. All he finds at the end of his amusement is anger, bright red and hot. It’s not an emotion he feels often, its rarity only serving as an intensifier—he starts making his way out of the rink before it can explode and hit you in its wake. “Well, that’s convinced me to call it a day. So you got what you came for, I guess.”

His fingers tremble as he undoes the laces on his skates and puts his sneakers on again. You stand by the door of the rink, holding onto the frame as you look at him, that same sad look still on your face. “Hoon,” you say, voice weak. What would usually have him melting only has his anger flare harder.

“Don’t. For the first time ever, I actually really don’t want to talk to you right now.” He stands up, gives you one last harsh look, and turns away. He only halts right before exiting the bleacher area, and after a couple seconds of thinking, turns back around. “Oh, but don’t worry, I’ll let you know when I want to fuck again. Since that’s all this is, clearly.”

--

It seemed to you no one thought you were good enough for Sunghoon.

Only Yunjin and Chaewon seemed excited at the prospect of the two of you getting together, or at least getting to know each other, but they were also the type to coo at dogs in the street and tear up at the sight of old people holding hands; Minjeong was apprehensive from the start, and made it clear; Jay was indifferent; Jake was oblivious for a while. Sunghoon was…

What was Sunghoon?

Someone who had come out of nowhere, shaken up your routine and messed with your head. That’s what Sunghoon was. He didn’t seem apologetic in the slightest.

Maybe it was your fault for not opening up to the people closest to you and letting them think you were some kind of no-strings-attached one-night-stands-only emotionless maneater who had been single for as long as they had known her, who would be seen with someone new every few months, and never for long, who, as far as the eye could tell, only used men for sex. Maybe it was their fault for never trying to dig deeper.

No, okay, it was definitely your fault.

Based on your conversations with your friends, they thought Heeseung had broken your heart, and you had never bounced back properly. He’d hurt you so much, you couldn’t fathom a real relationship anymore—you could only be with someone casually. Which wasn’t so far from the truth, but what Heeseung had done was much worse than just breaking your heart. He’d confirmed what you already knew of yourself: you want too much. You want what you can’t have, what you don’t deserve.

From the moment you met Park Sunghoon, you knew you didn’t deserve someone like him. Minjeong seemed to agree, and when she saw you and him together at choir that Saturday in September, three months ago already, she made sure you knew her thoughts on the matter.

“This is so… unlike you,” was the first thing she’d said after she pulled you aside. 

“What is?”

“This,” she repeated, waving her arms around. “Being here. Coming with him.” She pointed at Sunghoon, whose hair was being ruffled by one grandma and his cheek pulled by another. He kept glancing back worriedly at you—you liked him so much already. “See? You’re smiling at him,” she said, making you realize a sappy smile had started growing on your lips at the sight of him. Your face dropped and you scoffed at the disgust in her voice.

“Yeah, some of us like to smile. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Y/N, you know what I’m trying to say.”

“I don’t think I do, actually.”

She sighed. “You don’t do this. You don’t meet a guy and show up to his choir practice the next morning. What’s happening?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. Had you known your presence would be questioned like that, you might’ve thought twice about coming. “Can’t a girl enjoy a choir without getting interrogated these days?”

“You’re avoiding my question! Listen, Y/N. Sunghoon is not the kind of guy you usually go for. He’s-Stop. Don’t smile at me like that.”

“If you like Sunghoon, you can just tell me. You know I wouldn’t stoop so low as to go after a guy my best friend likes.”

“So you are going after him?”

“So you do like him?”

Minjeong shook her head violently and put her hands on your shoulders, staring into your brain as if trying to make you see some sense. Calmly, she said, “No, I don’t. Sunghoon’s nice, but he is so far from my type. He’s too… nice.”

“You mean he doesn’t wear leather jackets or ride a motorcycle?”

“That was once. But no, he doesn’t do that. And what I’m trying to tell you is that he’s not your type either.”

“And how have you gathered that?”

“Because so far, you’ve only wisely chosen guys who are as detached and emotionally stunted as you.”

“I’m not-”

“But he’s not like that, Y/N. He’s the bring-home-to-your-parents-for-Christmas type. Not the hump-and-dump type.”

“I’m starting to get offended by this conversation.”

“All I’m saying is, don’t go breaking his heart. Or yours, for that matter. It pains me to say but I care about both of you very much and I don’t see this going anywhere good.”

You shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Was her opinion of your romantic tendencies — or lack thereof — that bad that she couldn’t even recommend you to her friend? You felt like a chastised child whose mom told you you couldn’t get the toy you wanted. Despite being well aware that you weren’t the most committed when it came to relationships, you still felt like she was going overboard. Just because nothing had stuck so far didn’t mean it wouldn’t now—she was acting like you went around playing with people’s feelings for fun.

“Jesus, this is my second time seeing him. I just wanna see what his deal is. I’m not breaking anyone’s heart, okay?” 

The choir conductor had called out for everyone to gather on stage then, and that was the end of that conversation. You still remember how funny of a thing it was, seeing Sunghoon in his nice shirt and trousers, his hair falling into his eyes, singing diligently with the choir, when just the night before he had been playing beer pong dressed as Cowboy Ken. In this new light, you understood why Minjeong was so adamant about him not being your usual type, and why the grandmas were fussing over him. You hadn’t known what had pushed you to invite yourself to this rehearsal, and even then as you sat there, you weren’t sure what you were doing or why you couldn’t stop smiling as you watched Sunghoon sing. 

Time made things clearer, starting with that afternoon at the beach. The salt in the air that day had clouded your thoughts, covered them with a thin layer so that your usual reluctance to share anything remotely personal had dimmed. Or maybe it had had nothing to do with the air and everything to do with the boy sitting next to you on the sand, the way words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could think about them and were only met with understanding and empathy on his part. For once, you didn’t feel the need to guard yourself, to adapt your words and actions to the person in front of you. It was something you didn’t know was possible with a near stranger—perhaps because Sunghoon felt nothing like one.

He made you feel things you hadn’t felt in a long time; things you had been craving to feel, needed almost as much as oxygen. Being with him felt like breathing again. But you had been underwater so long, being on land again felt foreign, scary, and you couldn’t help but dive back into safe waters, coming up for air once in a while.

Whether he had intended to or not, Sunghoon had started to scratch at your surface, until he’d burrowed a small hole—shallow, but enough for cracks to appear, cracks you were quick to put back together as best as you could.

So when his gaze was too tender, his touches too gentle, you bristled. You went away, because you were afraid of what might happen if you stayed. The more you wanted to give him, the less you gave him anything at all. Your own desire overwhelmed you. His letterman jacket was warm around your shoulders, you proudly walked around with the four letters of his last name on your back, but you couldn’t get out of your mind how cold it would be if it was one day ripped away from you. 

You thought of Heeseung, how disillusioned you had been when you thought you had finally met someone who would love you the way you had always yearned to be, only for him to toss you away when you started asking for too much. You thought of your friends in middle school, how it seemed that no friendship could be more wonderful until you overheard them talking about you at a sleepover, about how clingy you were. You thought of your parents, how they had only bestowed kind words upon you when you performed well in your role of perfect daughter, of academically gifted child. How they hadn’t even glanced at any of the drawings you’d done of the four of you, mother, father, son and daughter holding hands with a bright yellow sun in the corner of the sky. How they had pushed you away from their bed when you seeked some comfort after a terrible nightmare. How they had never bothered to hide their disappointment when you came home from school with anything less than an A. How they had shunned your brother for not going down the path they had envisioned for him, how hard you had to fight to make them accept yours was not a worthless one.

Even your best friend seemed to think you were unable to receive affection of the likes of Sunghoon’s—but what you were afraid of was that he wouldn’t handle the amount of affection you knew you were able to give. In a way, that was what had drawn you to Sunghoon in the first place—from the moment you’d met him, you had been able to tell there was something of you in him. It seemed to you he had a heart that was overflowing with love, love to give, love to spare on whoever would have it. In his words, you were him. Nevertheless, your fear of getting hurt overrode your desire to feel Sunghoon’s love, and you didn’t know whether you would be able to revert to your nature after having spent so much time perfecting your new facade.

You knew what it was like to be cold. And so you prematurely braced yourself for it by pushing away Sunghoon’s warmth. If it was going to happen at some point, like Minjeong had hinted it would, might as well get used to it, right?

Except the cold never came. Sunghoon kept on burning relentlessly, no matter how much wood you fed his fire with—you could cling to him for nights on end or ignore his texts for days, without fail, he’d welcome you with his usual, unwavering warmth. He allowed you to bask in it, to momentarily let down your defenses. But something always happened to make you raise them back up—Minjeong would eye the two of you suspiciously, Heeseung would post on Instagram (Is one of the girls on slide five his new fling? Are they serious and it wasn’t that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, it’s that he didn’t want one with me?), or your mom would text you to ask you whether everything was okay.

Yet increasingly, you suspected there was something behind Sunghoon’s warmth, something you had missed, something that was tricking you. He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the night sky, yes; in public, a knowing look from you was enough to have his face turn bright red, and in private, one simple touch had his chest heaving, yes; he expressed disappointment every time you turned him down for a hang-out. Your attachment to him grew, and it became harder to put what the two of you had into words.

It wasn’t just sex—it couldn’t be. It ran deeper than that. You knew what relationships that consisted of just sex were like, and this wasn’t that, it was too good, too intimate to be just that. But you weren’t a couple, that much was clear. Only four other people were aware something was even going on, your brother not included, and you acted as regular friends in front of everyone. Jake had insisted you didn’t fool around with another member of his hockey team because his relationship with Heeseung had already deteriorated enough, he didn’t need to be on weird terms with anyone else on your behalf, so you were not keen on letting him know about what you got up to with Sunghoon. Anyway, even if everyone on earth was in on your shenanigans, you and Sunghoon hadn’t convened on what it all meant. Who knew what was going on in his head? You were no stranger to how deceitful men could be when they were after certain bodily pleasures. Unless Sunghoon said it in so many words, multiple times, you would not be a hundred percent sure he wasn’t only looking to get laid, or wanted someone to act like his girlfriend without the label and the obligations that came with it.

Because you basically were acting like his girlfriend, and he like your boyfriend. You always went to each other. Always, only each other. Whether he needed a second opinion on an outfit, you needed a rant session about your dissertation, either of you a really good orgasm, it was each other you went to.

You waited for him to initiate a conversation about the status of your relationship like one waits for church bells to ring at the turn of the hour—you knew it was coming, but the sound might be too much to bear. And the longer you had to wait, the more you dreaded it. Because how would you react when the time came? You didn’t trust yourself not to run away; neither did Minjeong.

The cold hadn’t come yet. You couldn’t let yourself feel the warmth unreservedly. It was all unpleasantly lukewarm.

Then you went home for a weekend.

It was a good friend from school’s birthday, and despite having spent a lot of time with Sunghoon at the expense of studying, you had done well this semester and thought you deserved a break. After having been away for so long, you had started to underestimate the power of your need for your parents’ approval over you. One small instance that your brother and many other people would’ve brushed off easily was enough to set you off—that same cold look of disappointment when you decided to be honest and told them one of your courses was deadly boring all while being unnecessarily complicated and you had received a low B-grade in it. They barely spoke to you for the rest of the evening.

Exams were a mere few weeks away when you got back. You buried yourself in work, forgot everything and everyone else, even Sunghoon, even yourself.

The cold hadn’t come yet, so you sought it out for yourself.

At the same time, you hadn’t indulged in enough introspection to realize how frustrated you had been at Sunghoon for not trying to create defined boundaries around your relationship. You were unable to do it yourself, you unrealistically wanted him to do the work for the both of you, you got upset when he didn’t. What you were able to do was make up reasons why he wasn’t giving you the what are we talk—he doesn’t like you that much, he just wants sex, he’s settling for you until he finds the next best thing, the real thing. This wasn’t leading anywhere, so you cut it off before he could.

You set foot in the library at seven thirty a.m. on a Monday and every following day of that week, then the next, then the next. He managed to pull you out every now and then—you weren’t that strong against his big pleading eyes, his soft messy hair, his warm hands that entirely covered yours. 

Oftentimes, you were too tired at the end of a long library day to have sex. Sunghoon never held it against you—he seemed more than happy to cook you dinner, let you fall asleep halfway during a movie you had chosen, and cuddle all night long. But your body burned with resentment at his mere presence in your bed, in your home, in your text messages. Who was he to stop you from studying, from achieving your goals, to distract you from that top grade just so he could get off? Even your friends and brother weren’t trying so hard to make you take breaks. The worry that furrowed his eyebrows, which you used to want to see fade away with a caress of your thumb, now infuriated you to no end, it seemed — to you — put-on. He kissed your neck and you wanted to push him away instead of melt into him like you had before.

It was his turn to leave for a weekend for an out-of-town hockey game, and you convinced yourself his absence came as a relief. But on the Sunday evening they got back, as you came out of the library, you spotted your brother waiting right outside of the building.

“Why is it so hard to reach you?” he said when he saw you in lieu of a greeting. “What’s the point of having a phone if you don’t even use it? I called you, like, five times.” “It was on airplane mode.” He rolled his eyes so hard, you could almost hear them moving beneath their lids. “What have you done to Sunghoon?” You stopped dead in your tracks. “Sunghoon? What about him?” you asked, chest constricting at the mere thought of him and at the implication that something had happened to him, even if you were the cause. He hadn’t said it in so many words, but it was clear the truth had been revealed to Jake, and for some reason, it didn’t surprise you. You knew they roomed together and assumed Sunghoon must’ve told him. You tried your best to take it in stride. “I thought we said the hockey team was off-limits after Heeseung,” he said sternly. “Also, Sunghoon, of all people?” he adds before you can say anything. “That’s like, my bro. And he’s the nicest guy ever. Not the perfect pick for one of your victims, I must say-” “Oh, please, he’s not a victim. He’s a consenting adult.” “Then why is he so upset over you spending more time studying than with him?” “That’s the male ego for you, Jakey.” Your brother sighed deeply. “He’s really hurt, Y/N. If you were going to reject him, you could’ve done it nicely.”

You frowned. “Who said anything about rejecting him?”

“You’ve shut him out. You’ve shut all of us out.” Jake was staring at you, trying to get you to look at him, but you kept your gaze on the ground and kicked non-existent pebbles around, hands hiding in your coat pockets. “You might not have meant it as one, but he took it as a rejection.”

You scoff. “There was nothing to reject. It’s not like we’re actually together.”

“Yeah, thanks for telling me anything was going on, by the way.”

“It wasn’t any of your business.”

“It is, ‘cause it concerns my sister and my best friend.”

“He’s your best friend?” you echo, a teasing smile on your lips. He rolls his eyes again.

“God, maybe you guys aren’t so bad together after all. But Y/N—I’m serious. You need to do something.”

“Why can’t he?”

“Because you’re the one who’s been fucking around.”

Ouch. “You’ve known about this whole thing for what, two days, and you’re already blaming me for the fact that it’s not going perfectly? How little do you think of me?”

“I don’t think little of you, Y/N, I just know you have a track record of not being serious about relationships.”

Your body tensed up. Maybe it had been a particularly long day. Maybe it had been a long time coming. Tears well up in your eyes—a sight you’ve not let your brother see in many, many years.

“You know what, fuck this, Jake. I’m stressed enough as it is. I’ve done my best with what I have, and you don’t get to pin this on me. As if I was the only person in that relationship. If Sunghoon has a problem, he can take it up with me directly.”

You walked away. Jake called after you once, and when you didn’t come back, caught up with you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t wanna upset you. I just-I hate seeing him hurt, you know? And you too.”

“I’m glad my feelings are of some importance to you.”

“Of course they are,” Jake said, too concerned to detect the sarcasm in your words. “And you’re right, I’ve only heard Sunghoon’s side of the story. But it really sounded like-”

“Listen, Jakey, I really don’t wanna do this right now. Let’s talk about it when exams are over. I can’t have anything else taking up mental space. I mixed up my Greek third declension endings earlier.”

“God forbid.”

After some arguing, Jake let you off the hook—“Just for now,” he said. You’d get him to recount his and Sunghoon’s conversation in excruciating detail later.

You come out of an evening of contemplation resenting Sunghoon for bitching about you to your brother, of all people. As if he had been begging on his hands and knees for your devotion, as if you had been cool-headed and detached and not thinking he’ll ask me to be his girlfriend any second now every time you spent time together. You told yourself you were well and truly done with him for the time being. If there was anything to salvage, that was future you’s problem.

But late on Thursday evening, Jay sent you a voice message, something he only did when he was gravely drunk, shouting over loud chatter and rap music that Sunghoon hadn’t shown up to a party and was apparently still practicing. You’d caught wind of their loss at the game, and even though your heart had swollen with concern for Sunghoon, very well aware of how important winning was to him, you’d managed to squash it down. You had bigger fish to fry, namely, an Italian written exam that made up 75% of your overall grade for that course. But after ten minutes of re-reading the same three lines of an article from Republicca, you couldn’t get the image of Sunghoon skirting endlessly around the ice rink and potentially hurting himself out of your head. You told yourself you only had this one exam left and plenty of time to revise for it, packed up your things and headed for the rink.

It was past eleven p.m. when you got there. The rest is history. 

Your grievances came out in an ugly way, but Sunghoon’s refusal to listen to you got the best of your nerves, and although you really did feel that your worry was more genuine than his, you didn’t truly believe that all he wanted from you was sex—at least, you hoped it wasn’t. It was the first time you ever saw any sort of negative emotion on Sunghoon’s handsome features, be it anger, sadness or pain. It tugged at your heartstrings, made you want to wrap him in your arms and get him away from whatever it was that tugged his eyebrows into a frown—even if that was you.

Now, as if the water has inched up your ankles and frozen over, your feet stay planted on the ice for a while after he’s stormed off. You don’t even realize you’re crying until a hot, salty teardrop falls on your lips.

Your feet regain control of themselves, and they seem to move of their own accord as they guide you right in front of Sunghoon’s dorm room. You’re barely conscious as your knuckles rasp against the door, and the tears that had fallen back behind your eyes spill out once more as soon as your eyes meet his. He’s just come out of the shower, a white towel wrapped around his hips, another one that he uses to dry his hair. His movements stop when he realizes who’s standing at his door, mouth falling slightly agape, chest visibly rising and falling. He’s so beautiful, you feel your heart breaking all over again.

Sobs pour uncharacteristically out of you, so much so that you have to hide your face behind your eyes. He ushers you in, holds you tight as everything flows out, the stress, the resentment, the loneliness, the longing. How could he be so close yet so far away this whole time? Did he want those miles of distance between you, or had you forced them upon him?

Sunghoon smoothes your hair down and shushes you, telling you it’s okay and that he’s here, voice strangled as if he’s on the verge of crying, too. A part of you still feels angry towards him, but the bigger part of you knows only he can give you the comfort you need.

“I missed you,” you say when you’ve calmed down partly. You only realize how true those words are once you’ve spoken them. You’ve missed waking up next to him, watching trashy reality TV together, taking coffee breaks that lasted too long in-between study sessions. You’ve missed the scent of his hair, the scent of his skin, you’ve missed watching the way his back muscles shift at the slightest of movements, feeling the weight of his head as he lay on your chest. All for a bunch of As you would’ve gotten without exerting yourself so much anyway.

“I missed you too, baby. Where did you go?” Just like that, you break down again, and he dissolves into apologies. “You’re here now, it’s all that matters,” he whispers against your hair.

“You didn’t see them, Hoon. You didn’t see the way they looked at me,” you say, struggling to speak, unsure you’re even making any sense but unable to stop. “I got As in everything, I worked so hard. Just one B, one week where I had four things due at the same time. Their faces, Hoon, like they were thinking, what was the point of letting me do this degree if I wasn’t even going to excel in it?”

“But you do excel in it, Y/N. You’re amazing at what you do. And even if you weren’t, you love it, and that’s what matters the most.”

“Not to them, it doesn’t.”

“Then forget them.”

“I can’t, Hoon,” you say, voice trembling. “I just can’t. I need them to be proud of me.”

“Isn’t it enough to be proud of yourself?”

“I wish it was.”

“Does it help if I tell you how proud I am of you and of how hard you’ve worked?”

He doesn’t see it, your face is still hidden in the crook of his shoulder, but a small smile makes its way to your lips. ��A bit.”

“Then I’ll tell you everyday until you don’t need their approval anymore. They don’t deserve you, Y/N. They don’t even see what an amazing, beautiful, smart daughter they have. Or her sort-of-okay brother.” You laugh, and so does he. Sunghoon’s words and soothing touch against your back already alleviate the weight on your heart. “But I see it.”

You lift your head to look at Sunghoon. His eyes are glassy. “You see how amazing, beautiful and smart Jake is?”

He laughs again as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, exactly.” The way he looks at you makes you wish you could go back to the day you met him and right all of your wrongs. No more hiding or running away. You only want to stay under that gaze of his. But sadness soon replaces the joy in his eyes. “You mean so much more to me than you give yourself credit for, Y/N. This has never been just about sex for me. Not even for a second.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what has it been about?” 

He frowns like a student in an advanced math class who’s just been asked what three plus three is—isn’t it obvious?

“I love you.”

Your eyes dart between his as if searching for any trace of deceit there. Of course, you don’t find any—because there hasn’t been any since the start. You’d let your own fears invent things that weren’t there. Your lips tremble and you find yourself bawling on his shoulder once more, your tears like a well that digs deeper and deeper so as to never run out of water.

“I hope these are good tears,” Sunghoon says light-heartedly, but you can detect the nervousness behind his words. You nod your head vigorously, willing yourself to say something back, but your tears overflow, make your breath hitch.

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” you manage in between sobs.

“I didn’t think it was the kind of thing you wanted to hear,” he explains.

“I was waiting for you to say something.”

“I didn’t know. I thought I was being obvious enough.”

“You probably were. I was the one who couldn’t see it,” you admit.

“I thought you didn’t want me like that.”

“I thought you didn’t want me like that.”

Sunghoon chuckles, a sound of relief. “I’ve wanted you like that since the start.”

“I think I have too.”

“You think?”

You lift your head again and when your eyes meet Sunghoon’s, it feels like coming out of your hiding place hours after the round of hide-and-seek was over. He hadn’t forgotten to come and find you. He was waiting for you to reveal yourself.

Which goes against the rules of hide-and-seek, but you don’t blame him.

You smile; he smiles, deep dimples carving crescents into his cheeks. “I love you, too.”

You hadn’t realized how cold your hands were until Sunghoon found them.

--

Everything after that was a blurry mess of tangled limbs, warm kisses, happy tears and relieved laughter.

Your touch had always been intoxicating, but Sunghoon was particularly sensitive to it that night. The mix of not having felt you close in weeks and the heightened emotions driven by your confessions made his skin tingle everywhere it came in contact with yours. He’d never slept so little without regretting it in the morning.

It goes without saying that most of the night was not spent talking, but you still had things you needed to discuss. The two of you laid out all of your fears, and Sunghoon was immensely relieved to finally get a glimpse into that mind of yours. He made you promise to always tell him what was going on, and he promised you you’d never be too much for him. Always just right.

Now, he gets to wait outside of your exam hall with your favorite flowers in hand, to put his arm around your shoulders during movie nights instead of holding your hand beneath the blanket, to kiss you over the barrier at the end of a hockey game he won. Heeseung’s narrowed eyes at the sight of the two of you is an added bonus.

You text him that you’ll hang around the locker rooms after the game so that you can head to the party together. The end of December is nearing and you can’t wait for the new year, for twelve whole months of not hiding your feelings for Sunghoon from anyone, not even from yourself, least of all from him. At least, that’s what you told him in a sappy, drunken voice message at two a.m. the previous night when the girls made you drink a bottle of prosecco to yourself—their way of congratulating you for an arduous but successful exam period.

He steps out of the locker rooms with Jake and Jay. You’ve never looked quite as pretty, face lighting up as you spot the three of them, his jersey on your shoulders. You’d worn it during your last exam—“I thought it might bring me luck to wear a pretty boy’s name on my back,” you’d told him, to which he’d replied that it was good practice for when you actually took his last name. You’d looked away, fighting a smile.

Now your smile is full-blown as you look at him, but the downside of being an official couple is that Jake has now more material to tease the both of you with.

“Oh my God, you waited for me, what a sweet sister I have been blessed with!” he exclaims, arms outstretched as he barrels towards you.

“Fuck off, Sim,” you say but accept his hug nonetheless. “Nice game.”

“I know.” He pulls away and ruffles your hair. Jay nods at you like you’re someone he shared a class with back in second year and not his friend of almost three years.

As if on cue, just as Sunghoon reaches you and envelops you in a hug, Jake turns around and yells loud enough for all the players spilling out of the locker rooms, “And don’t forget to wear protection! I’m not ready to be an uncle yet.”

“That’s disgusting, Jakey,” you yell back, and he smiles proudly. Sunghoon had never thought the day would come where you’d initiate a kiss in a room full of people—he’s on cloud nine when you take his head in your hands and press your lips to his, murmuring praises about how well he played.

“It was all for you, baby,” he says, trying to appear cool even though a blush is creeping up his ears. 

“Not for the recruiter of the national team?” you asked with a smirk.

He smiles, shrugging. “Maybe a bit for him too. You’re the one I want to impress.”

“Consider me impressed.” You stand on your tiptoes to kiss him a second time.

You head towards your friends, hands warm against each other.

--

In classic mysterious Jay fashion, he organizes a New Year’s Eve party that he can’t attend himself.

He’s on holiday in some exotic country halfway across the world with his family, but he’s offered up their house for a celebration and tasked Jake with making sure no one trashes anything.

The party started three hours ago, and you’re sure it’s in full swing by now—you’re sure everyone is having a jolly old time, getting drunk enough to welcome the new year with a hangover, searching the crowds of people for the person they’ll want to kiss at midnight. You’re sure that people are having so much fun that whoever notices your and Sunghoon’s absence might think you’re missing out.

And maybe you are—but there’s nowhere you’d rather be than where you are now, straddling your boyfriend’s lap in the backseat of his car. He’s a little bit tipsy, you’re a little bit tipsy, it’s obvious in the way you kiss each other, messy, impatient, interspersed with giggles and with perhaps too much tongue. Your hands are not much more polite, harshly grabbing at his hair just the way you know he likes it, and neither are his, having snuck their way underneath your black satin dress long ago already.

When Sunghoon pulled you away from the party, you’d appropriately exclaimed, “But the party?”, to which he replied, “Fuck the party.” It wasn’t like him to curse, or to have anything but a bashful smile on his lips, like a guilty dog who’d been caught doing something it knew it shouldn’t, even though he was just standing there, so when you see his stoney expression, you think something serious must’ve happened.

The something serious turned out to be “that guy who was touching your shoulder.”

Clearly, it’d take Sunghoon a little bit more time to be entirely secure in your relationship. In the meantime, you didn’t mind letting him fuck his jealousy away.

Although he’d been the one to whisk you away, you’re the one who finds yourself begging for him to speed things up. Your flimsy thong does absolutely nothing, so you’re basically grinding yourself bare against his clothed erection—and it’s not like the fabric of his suit trousers is very thick, either. A girl can only put up with so much dry humping before having her boyfriend’s dick inside of her goes from being a want to a need.

“Need you, Hoon,” you coo against the shell of his ear. A few words usually do the trick, but Sunghoon has other plans tonight.

“What do you need, baby?”

“You.”

“I’m right here,” he says, punctuating his words with a squeeze of your ass.

“You know what I mean,” you say, practically whining.

“I’m not sure I do, actually.”

You pull away and, looking at him directly, say, “God, Sunghoon. I want you to fuck me.” His shit-eating grin simultaneously makes you roll your eyes and goes straight to your core.

“That I can do.”

He keeps one hand on your ass as he loosens his tie first, then undoes his belt and trouser buttons. His slacks and underwear pool around his ankles, and all he needs to do is hike your dress up around your hips and push your thong to the side. You wrap a hand around his dick, but your mind is too hazy to do much with it—he’s started rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb, the pressure and speed as perfect as it always is. You let your forehead fall against his shoulders and moan unabashedly, thankful he decided to park the car far enough away from the house.

“You like it when I touch you like this, baby?”

“I love it, Hoon.”

He hums his approval. “You’re so perfect. So perfect and so wet for me, isn’t that right?”

You start to say “yes,” but you interrupt yourself with a gasp. You hold onto Sunghoon’s arm, feel his muscles move under your palm as he slips two fingers inside of you without warning. “Please,” you choke out, a tight knot already forming in your stomach.

“Please what?”

“Need you. Need your dick, baby.”

He smiles as if endeared, but his words couldn’t be more different. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before going off with some random guy the one minute I was somewhere else.”

“He’s just-fuck, Hoon, he’s just a mutual friend of Jay and I. Fuck, right there, baby.” Forming coherent sentences when Sunghoon’s fingers flick against that perfect spot deep inside you again and again is no easy task, but you need to defend yourself.

“Right there?” he echoes, voice a whisper against your ear. When you nod, eyes shut tight, he slips his fingers out. You look at him, betrayed. “That’s too bad. Why don’t you ask him to touch you right there, hm?”

You don’t know how much of his jealousy is put-on to get you to beg and how much of it is real. You make a mental note to have a conversation with him about this later—right now, you don’t mind playing along if it means your boyfriend will deign to fuck you. You know he wants to, he’s just making you work harder.

You move your hand up and down along his dick, brush his reddening tip with your palm every now and then. “He couldn’t touch me like you, Hoon.” You lean in and trail kisses along his neck, his jawline, his ears. “Can’t fuck me like you, either.”

With exams, hockey matches and any other responsibilities out of the way for winter break, the two of you had had an obscene amount of sex in the past couple of weeks. You’d done other things, of course, namely having much-needed conversations with each other, your friends, your families. Sunghoon’s mother was overjoyed at the news, glad her “duckling had finally met someone” — her words — and his sister kept stealing his phone from him to talk to you when you were on FaceTime. You and Jake had gone home for two days for Christmas, and although Jake had needed to pep talk you into it for over an hour, you managed to tell them that you wouldn’t stand for being belittled for your life choices anymore.

But in-between these conversations, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. You’ve grown more comfortable with each passing day, both of you bolder in vocalizing what you want and how you feel. And so, you quickly found out that your Sunghoon, your shy, sweet Sunghoon, got off like nothing else on salacious words. In line with his possessiveness, he loved hearing about how he and only he could do these things to you; in line with your need for validation, you could practically come from hearing his praises alone.

“That’s right, baby.” Like the gentleman he is, he fishes out the condom wrapper he had gotten ready from his trouser pocket, tears it open with his mouth and rolls the condom on with one hand, his other one still preoccupied with you. “Come here, my love,” he whispers, his sweet tone worlds away from his previous teasing, almost cocky one. He grabs your hips, guides you closer to him and lines your entrance with the tip of his dick. He lets you go at your own pace, rubs your thighs soothingly as you sink down onto him slowly and adjust to his size. You throw your head back, mind hazy with pleasure as you move your hips back-and-forth against him.

“You feel so good, baby. You’re doing so well for me.” His words make you pick up your pace, and you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers grabbing at his hair and sides of your faces pressed against each other as you start lifting your hips and sinking back down. Sunghoon’s hands hold your ass tightly, guiding you up and down. It’s hot in the car; sweat runs down your hairline and your back, air is running low, the windows are fogging up, but it only adds to the dizzying bliss growing in you. Even the seatbelt receiver digging into your knee doesn’t bother you.

“Feels so good, Hoon,” you moan.

“I know, baby.”

Your hours of studying everyday means your thighs aren’t the strongest—good thing for you that your boyfriend has enough stamina and strength for the both of you. As soon as he feels you tiring, your rhythm becoming slower and more irregular, he picks up your slack. One hand on your back, one arm around your waist, he presses you close to him, his hold on you so tight you can barely move. He bucks his hips harshly into yours, faster and faster, making you cry out with every brush of his tip against that spot deep inside of you. Your whole body shakes with pleasure as your moans grow higher and louder, until the tension in your stomach hits its apex and unravels. A gasp leaves your throat as you come around him, but he’s unrelenting, the overstimulation quickly making tears form in your eyes. Strings of curses and praises of how perfect you are spill out of Sunghoon’s mouth disorderly as he reaches his own end.

Together, you take your time catching your breath, his fingers roaming your back while you trail soft kisses all over his face and neck. “My pretty baby,” he whispers, and it makes your heart swell with so much affection for him that you press your lips to his, shutting him up in case he says something that actually has you exploding.

You wish you could spend some more time just the two of you before returning to the party, but when you check your phone, it’s already five minutes to midnight—he puts his clothes back on as you fix your hair in a rush, Sunghoon helping you wipe away traces of mascara under your eyes, and together, run back to the living room where everyone has gathered. You find Minjeong, Yunjin, Chaewon and Jake, who has Jay on FaceTime. It’s only five p.m. where he is.

Everyone counts down from ten together. The first thing you do in the new year is kiss Park Sunghoon—and you’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do, too.

© asahicore on Tumblr, 2024. please do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works. support your creators by reblogging and leaving feedback!

permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 @baekhyuns-lipchain @hyuckslvr @vernonburger @amorbonbon @fluerz @jakeflvrz (ask to be removed/added!)

[5sospenguinqueen]

Growing Pains | Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: When fans begin commenting about your future plans, Oscar begins to worry that your long-term relationship is preventing you from truly experiencing life. 

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Self-sacrificing Oscar haha. Childhood sweethearts

Female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

2023 season

Less baby-fever, more baby panic haha. I'm so sorry if these aren't as baby-centered as the others. I've been trying to make them a little different.

Main Masterlist

next.

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YourUserName just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, danielricciardo and others

YourUserName i love weekends off with you <3

978 comments

oscarpiastri you didn’t post the one of me with my face in the water? that is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me

→ YourUserName only because your ass was in the air and i’m the only one allowed to see that 

→ oscarpiastri oh

→ landonorris @ oscarpiastri well, now you’ve told the internet that it exists, we need to see it

→ User1 lando is one of us 

danielricciardo i’m still your favourite australian though, right? 

→ YourUserName no. i’m my own favourite australian

→ oscarpiastri you tell ‘em, sweetheart 

→ User2 SWEETHEART!!!

User3 i know they’re only young but when can we expect a wedding

→ User4 they’ve been together for long enough. they’re practically already married at this point

→ User5 their wedding would be so cute. can you imagine all the f1 appearances we would get? 

→ User6 mark webber in a tux 🤤

mclaren our favourite young couple

→ landonorris hey! 

→ mclaren you and daniel don’t count anymore

→ danielricciardo hey! 

User7 papaya wedding when? 

oscarpiastri just posted

liked by mclaren, charles_leclerc and others

oscarpiastri my favourite girl 💕

2,664 comments

YourUserName don’t let suzie hear you say that. she’ll be distraught

→ oscarpaistri maybe you should drive her more and she’ll love me less

→ YourUserName whoa, i thought this was an appreciation post for me, why are you throwing shade

→ landonorris why would she drive her own car when she has you to do it for her?

→ YourUserName exactly! 

→ User9 wait, suzie is a car? i was hoping they had a pet or something we didn’t know about 

User10 the disrespect to have lando’s # on her back but be stood in front of oscar’s garage 

logansargeant yet i suggest she support driver #2 and i had holes poked in all my juice boxes 

→ oscarpiastri you can never prove that was me

→ YourUserName i have video footage

landonorris everyone can relax, she’s wearing the shirt because she lost a bet. oscar was a good sport about it 

→ YourUserName i got soooo many dirty looks that day. the fans did not like me

→ oscarpiastri i still think you’re beautiful. not as beautiful with MY number splashed only our back but

→ YourUserName you know 81 is my favourite number

→ YourUserName (and sometimes 16)

→ charles_leclerc forza ferrari

User11 the fact that they fell in love during the most awkward years of a person’s life and have continued to love each other when they got hot

→ User12 they saw the potential in each other 

User13 the fact that he’s loved you since you were 14 and continues to love you more each day 🥹

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YourUserName just posted

liked by racerbia, alex_albon and others 

YourUserName i’m so proud of you, osc. another podium in a long-line of many. thank you for sharing your joy and success with me. 🧡🧡

when i befriended the nerdy 12 year old who wouldn’t stop talking about engines, i never imagined that you would be dragging me around the world. don’t get me wrong, i always believed you would make it this far. i just thought i would’ve managed to break free from you before then 😂 however, i’m so glad i didn’t because you are my favouritest guy in the whole world, and seeing you on that podium made me cry more than watching the supernatural series finale 

1,220 comments

YourUserName oh, and well done to lando on P3, i guess

→ landonorris you guess???

User1 time for another round of: is he looking at lando or y/n in the 3rd pic?

→ landonorris it was y/n this time :( 

→ YourUserName you get loads of pics of him looking at you like this, let me have my moment

oscarpiastri thank you for coming with me around the world and supporting me no matter what. you’ve been one of my biggest supporters these past 8 years and i don’t think i could’ve done it without you by my side. i love you so much, even if i come second to dean winchester 🧡🤍

→ User2 P2 in your relationship as well

→ oscarpiastri only because y/n is p1

→ YourUserName stop making me love you more and more each day. i might explodeeeee

User3 my parents. i need them to adopt me because they’re just so cute 

User4 drenched in champagne is a good look for piastri 

thisisnotyn the pirelli cap needs to stay on during sex 

→ User5 is this y/n’s secret account 

landonorris this is so cute. excuse me whilst i puke

maxverstappen1 a delight to share the podium with your boyfriend for the 2nd time

→ User6 y/n’s boyfriend and y/n’s boyfriend’s boyfriend on the podium with max 2x in a row 

→ YourUserName omg max verstappen commented on my post! you’re like my favourite driver ever

→ oscarpiastri you agreed not to mention this in public

→ charles_leclerc @ YourUserName i thought it was me

→ landonorris i thought it was me

→ fernandoalo_official jokes on all of you, she told me it was me

→ aussiegrit you're all wrong. it's me

User7 if you guys are after a third, i’m free?

→ User8 how could you say this to the cutest couple on the grid

→ User9!because y/n has said worse and is more unhinged than we think but oscar’s pr manager has gotten to her recently 

User10 i’m gonna have to agree with @ OscarPastryyy just because they’ve been together forever doesn’t change the fact that they’re still young

User11 yeah they’ve been together for a while but that doesn’t mean that having children is their only option. they’re still technically children themselves 

NicolePiastri he doesn’t know how to do his own washing. trust me, he’s not ready for children. Y/N on the other hand, has been keeping that boy alive since they were 12

→ User12 nobody humbles an f1 racer more than mama piastri 

User13 @ CHICKEN!! is so real for that. max is only 4 years old than them and yet everyone talks about him, kelly and P being a family and when are him and kelly getting married, but y/n and oscar have been together for longer than kelly has been a mother so… 

User14 i think people only focus on their age and forget about their experience. i went to school with them and they still act just as infatuated with each other now as they did when they were 14.

→ User15 but they’ve also only been with each other. perhaps they should try dating other people before committing to the rest of their lives 

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YourUserName just posted

liked by aussiegrit, logansargeant and others

YourUserName quando a Roma 🇮🇹❤️ tagged: YourBFF, YourBFF2

1,009 comments

YourBFF i told you that pic of you by the fountain would look amazing

→ YourBFF2 i think if we pumped another cocktail in her, she’d have gone swimming in it

→ YourUserName stop making me sound like a sloppy drunk

→ YourBFF you were sloppy anyway 

→ YourUserName bitch

→ YourBFF2 it’s part of being in your 20s. welcome! 

→ YourUserName not funny. 

User1 guys, oscar hasn’t commented. he always comments on posts with her in, even if they’re posted by friends/family 

mclaren orange drinks to support your favourite f1 team this weekend?

→ YourUserName you know it. papaya pride! 

→ YourBFF2 she actually said that to herself when she took the pic. you’ve indoctrinated her

lilymhe cute post but you’re coming to sichuan with me next

→ YourUserName just name a date and time, and i’m yours

→ alex_albon what is it with you and stealing f1 drivers’ partners 

→ YourUserName i think that just means i have the most rizz 

User2 you mean to tell me that she’s in rome the weekend that oscar is all the way in america? so, she’s not going to be at the race 🤔

→ User3 she doesn’t have to go to every one

→ User4 i know but she’s said loads of times that she tries to make all of them

User5 all of you calling y/n a bad girlfriend but are we forgetting that they’ve already been together for 8 years, and have known each for 10. they’re at the point where they don’t have to be glued to the hip all the time

→ User6 literally. like they’ve been together longer than some of the married couples on the grid 

→ User7 yeah but it’s just unlike them. how do they go from being infatuated with each other to distancing within 2 weeks without there being some cause? it wasn’t a natural progression

logansargeant i can’t believe you didn’t bring me back a gift.. you said you would

→ YourUserName i also said i’d wear a williams t-shirt one race but we all know that ain’t happening

→ User8 is this logan shooting his shot? 

alexandrasaintmleux i knew that would dress would look good on you. you look radiant 

→ YourUserName my favourite shopping partner 

→ charles_leclerc my girl has good taste

→ YourUserName not if she’s dating you 

→ charles_leclerc you have hurted my feelings 

User9 y/n hasn’t been able to terrorise oscar on social media and it’s showing because sis has been dragging the grid in their comments haha

→ User10 she’s so funny. i bet they’re fearful anytime her name pops up in their notifs 

User11 i love how we all sound insane to other people but us oscy/n stans know we’re right because they’ve been a constant media presence since his f2 days 

User13 i hate to say it but what if we’re the reason they broke up? we couldn't stop talking about them getting married and having kids lately, and what if it freaked them out… 

User14 i can’t imagine oscar piastri without y/n y/l/n. i only really follow f1, not f2 but he’s always been oscar and y/n since he started. it would be akin to not seeing him in mclaren 

mclaren just posted

liked by YourUserName, ln4 and others 

mclaren get you a teammate who looks at you the way these two look at each other #unitedstatesgp

1,559 comments

oscarpiastri 🧡

racerbia team papaya! 🧡

User1 poor oscar, such a shame he had to retire after minimal contact

User2 not to be that person but it was defo because y/n wasn’t there. she’s his good luck charm 

YourUserName well done lando! 

User3 anyone else getting more and more confused by oscar and y/n’s relationship purely because of their media presence

→ User3 for info, she posts that she’s in rome the weekend he is in america, proving that she isn't attending the race. oscar likes the post but doesn’t comment despite y/n looking beautiful in that post (1/4)

→ User3 then she’s not spotted in the paddock, further proving that she’s defo not at the race. plus, whenever oscar was asked about her during interviews, lando quickly changed the topic for him (2/4)

→ User3 then oscar crashes and y/n doesn’t post ANYTHING about the race but when he dnf’d in bahrain and belgium, she put numerous posts on her story about how proud of him she was (3/4)

→ User3 and now she congratulates lando on the mclaren post but doesn’t even mention her long-term boyfriend?? (4/4)

→ User4 you have too much time on your hands and are reading too much into things. i’m sure she’s facetimed him to see how he’s doing and told him she’s proud of him 

User5 okay but if a man looked at me the way oscar and lando look at each other, i would marry him on the spot 

danielricciardo @ oscarpiastri first your girlfriend tries stealing my seat, and now you’re stealing my lando. you two are giving aussie's a bad name

→ landonorris you’re the only for me, boo

→ danielricciardo don’t lie. the pictures show everything 

User6 i miss when we couldn't tell if he was looking at lando or y/n like that. now we know it’s lando because y/n isn’t in the paddock 

Note: Their texts at the end kinda resolve things (and, yes, he crumbled after just one race without y/n) so let me know if you want a Part 2 showing their future? As he doesn't really need a redemption so no Part 2 planned as of yet.

As always, requests are welcome!

GUESS WHAT’S COMING NEXT WEEK!!

A Lando x Plus Size Reader

I’m kidding. (I’m not. I am actually releasing that) but also Danny Ric Baby Fever Part2!!!!

Baby Fever Angst

Daniel's Version | Max's Version | Lando's Version

Lance's Version | Charles' Version

Tag list

@bibissparkles @barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @dullypully @softtina @callsignwidow @lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @reguluscrystals @peachiicherries

[driverlando]

✧.* PR PROBLEM

synopsis - all the times y/n has been horny on main for Carlos

before you continue: my first Carlos fic!! I hope you enjoy, if you did pls check out the rest of my pr series for the other drivers (Lando, Charles and Oscar) reblogs are highly appreciated :)

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carlossainzfan

liked by yourusername and 14,532 others

carlossainzfan cheeky carlos

view all 346 comments

user1 that’s why they call him the smooth operator

yourusername can he come here and put that tongue to good use

↳ yourusername @/carlossainz55

↳ carlossainzfan SKHFSGJFS

user2 I NEED THIS MAN IN SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS AND POSITIONS

↳ yourusername same

user3 his side profile eats!!

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carlossainzfans

liked by yourusername and 16,456 others

carlossainzfans Carlos’ fluffy hair. That’s it. That’s the post.

view all 547 comments

user4 the feminine urge to run my hands through his hair and put him to sleep

yourusername fun fact, he likes having his hair pulled iykyk

↳ user5 STOP TEASING US 😩

↳ yourusername sorry 🫡

user6 how can he be so perfect?

user7 Our Prince Charming 🫶

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carlossainzupdates

liked by user3, yourusername and 17,526 others

carlossainzupdates Carlos via Y/n’s instagram story!

view all 826 comments

user8 FOAMING AT THE MOUTH!!

yourusername lol I need him to bruise my oesophagus

↳ user9 I VOLUNTEER. I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE

↳ user10 Y/N IS ME. I AM Y/N

user11 SEDATE ME FIRST

user12 he looks so fucking good, that should be illegal

user13 chilli man is looking hotter then ever 🔥

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carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,995,052 others

carlossainz55 From surgery to race victory! 🏆 what a smoooooth operation 👊

view all 4,578 comments

user14 bravo 🔥🔥

landonorris Congrats Carlitos 💪

user15 the appendix removal was just weight reduction 😂

yourusername tears running down my face…and my thighs

↳ carlossainz55 I can help with both of them

↳ landonorris I take my congratulations back

↳ user16 this is why Carlos has no seat next year

user17 so proud of you babe

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taglist : @iheartmonaco @orgasming-caterpillar @ilivbullyingjeongin

[zhongfile]

guilty pleasure - park jisung

pairing: jisung x afab reader

wc: 764

warnings: virgin!jisung, praising, kissing, overstimulation, dry humping, handjob, crying, jisung cums in his pants.

requests: open!

A/N: this is based on a reddit post i saw on twitter and i thought it SCREAMMED jisung. I put my own lil twist to it tho🫶🏾 hope you guys enjoy! feedback highly appreciated :)

“fuck— s-shit!” you pulled back from your boyfriend's lips scanning his face for any type of discomfort.

“ji? what’s wrong—“ jisung froze and so did you. you looked down at his lap seeing a clear visible stain over his sweatpants. he tried his best to cover his lap with his hands giggling when he kept apologizing to you repeatedly.

“baby it’s okay” jisung knew you didn’t care about him cumming in his pants but he did. It was embarrassing. and he would much rather not have his sweatpants be sticky every time you two kissed. you and jisung have been dating a little over a year now and you’ve only had heavy makeout sessions. jisung was a virgin and wanted to wait which you respected but every time you two made out he felt his urges were growing stronger. even feeling the need to finally masturbate for the first time but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not yet.

you could kiss him for five seconds and he’s pulling back trying to calm himself down not wanting to cum. If you squeezed his thigh or got a little handsy he would stop you before continuing to get his heart rate to slow down. jisung didn’t understand why you didn’t freak out over him cumming in his pants but you honestly found it cute and it gave you a bit of a confidence boost.

It’s been almost a month since you last made out with jisung and you were starting to miss it. jisung was avoiding another makeout sesh too scared he’ll cum in his pants again. he avoided any type of long kisses from you, always feeling his cock get rock hard when your lips begin to linger a little too long. jisung was proud of himself for keeping his cool for a month hoping the next time the two of you made out it won’t leave his pants sticky.

jisung arrived at your apartment with flowers in his hands and a smile on his face. excited to take you on a date after not seeing you for a while.

“baby?” he called, walking in your apartment “in here!” you shouted back from your bedroom bathroom.

jisung smiled once again hearing your voice as he made his way to your bedroom mouth going completely dry he saw you step out the bathroom. your black long dress hugged your body in all the right places. you smelt like his favorite perfume and you had on the promise ring he got you a while back.

“you look beautiful” jisung breathed out, handing you the roses. “thank you baby” you cooed quickly pecking his lips. jisung kissed you again this time deepening the kiss catching you by surprise making you drop the flowers. he pushed you back on the bed hovering over you. you wrapped your arms tightly around jisung’s neck while your plush lips move in sync against his.

jisung could already feel himself getting hard humping against your leg to get some type of friction. you moaned at the contact, his hard cock pressing in between your legs rubbing against your clit.

“gonna cum gonna cum” jisung chanted out between kisses, his hips stuttering as he came staining his black jeans.

“please” he panted. “touch me please” jisung was already pulling his still hard cock out his pants before you could even say anything. his cock red and dripping in his cum.

you slowly started pumping his cock in your hand jisung closing his eyes at the touch. whimpering at the overstimulation.

“does it feel good ji?” you asked kissing at his neck jisung letting out another whimper “y-yes”

you felt your panties sticking to your cunt as you got jisung off. his whines of your name and the way he bucked his hips in your fist turned you on so much.

“baby— i’m close again” jisung's voice cracked as he rested his head on your chest, his second orgasm approaching quickly. you felt a tear fall onto your shoulder looking at jisung. his sweet moans started to turn into small sobs.

“i’m gonna fucking cum” he cried out ropes of cum hitting your dress watching jisung legs shake as he comes down from his high. still letting out small sobs from the overstimulation.

“oh ji” you cooed, pushing his now sweaty hair out his face. “you did so good baby so good” leaving a kiss on his forehead.

jisung kissed your lips again, biting at your bottom lip. he pulled back scanning your face

“need to fuck you next time. please”

[letstrip13]

୨୧ - cramps

summary: your boyfriend comes over to take care of you when you get your period

warnings: none, just enjoy cutesy bf!chris. not proofread!

word count: 819

author's note: day 3 of posting blurbs!! send requests for blurbs or fics!! also over 600 likes on my last blurb is insane, i haven’t gotten that many in so long tysm!! 𖹭

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you're laying on the couch in your apartment's living room, all curled up in the only position that can provide some relief from the pain. your period came this morning and by this evening, the horrible day one cramps had hit.

about ten minutes ago, you had texted your boyfriend, chris, to come over to cuddle and watch a movie. he wasn’t too far so he’d be showing up any minute now.

another few minutes tick by when the door you left unlocked for him comes flying open. chris bursts through the door holding an overflowing grocery bag in each hand as he calls out to you, sounding urgent, “baby?!” you sit up in a panic, worried by the tone of his voice. “i'm in here!”

he rushes into the living room and drops the bags on the coffee table, almost knocking over the scented candle you had burning in the process. a giggle slips out of your lips, the panic quickly replaced by confusion and amusement. “what's all this, my love?”

he looks up at you, an expression so nervous that you just want to run your fingers through his hair and give him a squeeze, but you let him speak.

“i- umm.. it's everything you need for your period. i know it's hard for you sometimes.. so i wanted to make it better.” the confusion courses through your mind again. you hadn't mentioned it when you texted him. “wha- how'd you know?” a soft chuckle escapes him. “you always ask me to come cuddle when you're on it.. and we've been together over a year, princess, i know you.”

“you're so sweet, i don't know what i’d do without you, chris.” his face breaks into his usual charming grin. “wanna see what i got?” he kneels in front of the couch where you're sitting and he places the bags in front of him.

first, he pulls a box of pads and a box of tampons, placing them next to him. “just in case you needed more,” he adds with a sheepish smile, “i hope i got the right ones.” “you did great, baby.” a relieved smile crosses his lips and he continues digging through the bags.

he pulls out a hot water bottle complete with a cute cover, pink with little red strawberries scattered around it. then he follows it up with a bottle of generic painkillers. “the lady at the store says these will be good for your cramps,” he tells you with a proud little smirk.

he takes out a pair of black fresh love sweatpants and the zip-up hoodie to match. “these because i know you forgot to get some last time you were over,” he pauses and digs around in the bottom of the bag and pulls out a pair of purple fuzzy socks with black cats on them, “..and these because i know you love halloween, even if it is a little early.”

you watch him carefully, hanging on to every word he says but you remain silent, words having left you for the time being. he takes a different approach with emptying the second bag, opting to just dump everything out in front of you. out tumbles a pile of your favourite snacks, chocolate, and candy, as well as six bags of honey bbq fritos which chris starts to ramble on about, “i was looking for these for so long. i went to so many different stores and gas stations this week but they were sold out every time. i saw them today and thought might as well buy them all-”

he's interrupted with a choked sob escaping your lips as hot tears roll down your cheeks. the thoughtfulness of your boyfriend's loving gesture gave you such an overwhelming feeling of adoration. but mixed with the heightened emotions as a side effect of your period, you can't help but cry.

chris quickly notices and rushes to pull you into his arms, doing his best to soothe your sobs. “is something wrong? did i buy the wrong thing?” a few slightly louder cries come out of you before you can hold it together enough to speak. “no, it's all perfect. you're-” you manage to gasp out between sobs, “perfect. i love you so much. thank you.”

you can feel a rush of air leave chris at his relief. “oh good. i thought it was about the fritos. they're not all for me, you know.” you laugh, the tears quickly being forgotten as he wipes away the traces of them on your cheeks.

“how about we cuddle and watch a movie?” you nod, getting comfortable on the couch and grabbing a blanket for the both of you to share. “sounds good to me.” you rest your head on his shoulder and pick a movie. he gently tilts your chin up to place a soft kiss on your lips just as the movie begins.

------------------------୨୧------------------------

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[boytearscore]

i dare you to try. — chris sturniolo.

summary: you finally decided to join a car video with the triplets after years of them trying to convince you to, but when the topic “who’s more stubborn, you or chris?” is brought up, things take a peculiar turn in which chris is sure he can be the first guy you beg for, so you dare him to try.

warnings: fem!dom, chris!dom, smut, teasing, foreplay, swearing, choking, orgasm denial, size kink, bdsm.

author’s note: this one is for my chris girlies, initially i wanted to make it oneshot, but i love to tease you guys so it will be divided in two short parts, the second one will be released tonight so don’t worry and just enjoy!

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 (𝟷/𝟸)

everything started after you filmed a video with the sturniolo triplets, you’ve been friends with them for a while and after much pleading, you finally agreed to be a guest.

it was the talk nonsense and just hope it’s funny type of shit, so you didn’t freak out too much about it.

all went smoothly, you were having fun and laughing hard every five minutes, but then they changed the topic to who’s more stubborn, chris or you.

suddenly you both were arguing about it, leaving a nick and a matt almost dying from laughing.

“bro, you’re basically a child!” you point at chris’ face and roll your eyes. “remember when we all told you to NOT drink too many energy drinks, so you inhaled fucking four and almost died with a heart attack?”

nick nods and matt is just out of breath, staring at both of you. chris crosses his arms, preparing his comeback and squinting his eyes at you.

“why is this relevant?” he asks, raising a brow. “you’re the one who refuses to drink water because ‘it tastes bad’, you’re just dehydrated, dude! drink water, it’s not that hard.”

as the back and forth argument continued, nick just looks at the camera and says:

“point proved.” he laughs and then grabs his phone. “i wonder if one of you would actually admit you’re wrong one day.”

you two look at nick, and matt agrees. “yeah, besides being stubborn, you two are also too proud.”

“none of those things are true.” you yell at matt, but your voice is shaken from laughing so they all laugh too. “i just like to stand my ground, and this little boy right here wouldn’t convince me to do shit even if his life depended on it.”

chris was dumbfounded with so many insults, but what got to him was “little boy” and the fact that you underestimated him. he was indeed too proud, but he was very confident as well, and never really had to work hard to get what he wants when it comes to his needs, so that made him hungry for proving you wrong.

unfourtunately for him, you were just exaclty the same, but worse.

he looks at nick, and then at the camera, a smirk forming on the corner of his lips.

“make sure to edit this part out of the video.” he says, and the three of you just stare at him with big question mark faces, then his eyes turned to you, he had a determined expression and that just made your curiosity grow bigger within every second.

“you can say all you want…” he starts, the smirk turning into an evil smile. “but i’m sure i can make you beg.”

there was silent, an exchange of look between you four and then the loud noises of laughter.

“beg you to do what, chris?” you ask him. “the only thing i’d beg you to do is shut the fuck up.” you leaned against the car sit, since you both were next to each other, all he did was incline his face closer to you.

“to be submissive for the first time with a guy.” he whisper into your ear, making sure nick and matt hear it too. they both are in shock, amused and extremely invested and you… well, that did not surprised you, to be honest. you always tell the triplets about your love life, how you deal with guys and so did they. there was definitely similarities between you and chris. such as, never dating, never being clingy and most importantly, always being on the dominant side.

you grin at him with arms crossed, faces still close because he didn’t back off after saying it.

“i dare you to try.” you reply with a firm tone and he chuckles while nick and matt are losing it in the back seat.

“holy shit…” nick murmured with his hand over his mouth, eyes paying attention to every detail of your mannerism to see any kind of resistance or fear on you, but he got nothing.

“so...” you finally break the silence, checking your lipgloss in the rear mirror and then turning to chris. “what do i get if you fail?”

he thinks for a while and bite his lips, trying to think of something that wouldn’t risk his social life or reputation. he knew you and your thoughts, nothing too good would come out of your mouth if you choose.

“if i fail, which i won’t…” he begins and you give him an eye roll. “i’ll listen to every command of yours, not complaining or being stubborn, and the hardest part…” he says, sighing. he can’t believe he’s about to say that. “i’ll admit i’m wrong.”

you think for a moment, plotting the most unspeakable things inside your head. there’s no reason to not agree since you know you won’t lose.

“you got yourself a deal, little boy.” you tell him, shaking his hand.

“what the fuck?” matt yells and all of you laugh, continuing the video until later that night.

[junezsq]

high school reunion

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: when returning to your old high school five years later might turn into a run in with your ex, you’re not sure if you should even go. what you did not expect was that seeing him again felt like no time had passed at all. he was just so easy to talk to

right person, wrong time -> right person, right time

warnings: a few swear words, make out scene, mentions of stranger things season 2, 3 & 4, mention of nightmares & migraines, flashback

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this took me about a week but i’m honestly really proud of it :’) the steve brainrot is real so i really didn’t mind spending everyday thinking of this fic lmao. i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i did writing <3

── ᵎᵎ ✦

the usually neatly made up bed that had now formed into a heap of discarded clothing items was the first sign of chaos. the desk and vanity full with hair and make up products was the second. a loud groan filled the room as you threw yourself onto your bed, feeling bumps of clothing poke into your back, but you didn’t seem to mind. “ugh, i’m not doing this.”

robin gasped and instantly turned her head to look at you, her hands still buried somewhere into your closet, “what do you mean?!”

“i’m not going.” you sighed, your eyes going over the ceiling. your hand found a piece of clothing to play with while you spoke, “i really don’t feel like seeing all of them again.” the material felt soft, like one of your sweaters, or maybe a t-shirt, “besides, i’ve got nothing to wear.”

robin raised her brows, retracting her arms from your closet so she could wave them around, “uhm, hello?? have you seen your room?” she exclaimed, placing her hands on her hips, “you’ve got clothes for an entire orphanage.”

you scoffed playfully, “nothing feels right to wear, though.” you mumbled, glancing down at the clothing item you’d been playing with; it wasn’t a sweater nor a t-shirt, but one of your favorite skirts, and even that didn’t live up to your expectations for tonight. a breath left your lips before letting go of the fabric and sitting up to look at robin, “i don’t want to get there and disappoint. you know, the girl who was supposed to be successful, but failed. miserably.”

“you didn’t fail miserably.” robin shrugged and you raised your brows at her. “okay, maybe, you didn’t go to college like you wanted, and moved back into your childhood bedroom,” she turned back towards your closet to continue digging through your clothes, “but who cares?? it’s only been five years, who knows what might’ve happened this time next year. right now, you’re single and living the life!”

you let your head fall into your hands with a sigh. your brain went over everyone that could possibly be there and when a certain name popped up you stilled. a gasp left your lips as your head snapped up to face robin’s back, “oh my god, what if steve’s going to be there?”

robin chuckled, “of course he’s going to be there, he was in your year.”

“ugh,” you groaned, letting yourself fall backwards onto your bed, “what if he wants to talk to me?? what am i gonna say?”

“just be yourself,” robin pulled one of your shirts out of your closet and assessed it before throwing it over her shoulder, “it’s not like you don’t know how to talk to him, i remember you two were, like, attached to the hip a couple years ago.”

“until we broke up.” you huffed, closing your eyes in remembrance. “i haven’t spoken to him since.”

robin didn’t seem to notice the somber undertone in your words, “yeah, but remember what happened 4 years back?.” she took out another shirt but also discarded it, “we all went through some heavy shit and you both weren’t really in the right headspace after, you know?” she pulled her attention away from your t-shirts and turned to your dresses, “maybe you just needed some time for yourself. both of you.”

you turned her words over in your head, opening your eyes again to let them go over the ceiling. when robin didn’t hear you speak up she continued, “i’m not saying you should jump on his dick the second you see him—“

“robin!” you exclaimed as you sat up again and watched how she threw another one of your dresses onto your bed. her arm basically disappeared into the back of your closet, “what i mean is, it might be awkward at first, but isn’t it worth it to talk to him and give it a shot? even if it’s just as, i don’t know, acquaintances.”

“maybe,” you mumbled, anxiously running your hands through your hair and over your face, “i just don’t want it be all awkward, with annoying small talk, which i hate, and—“

“holy shit!” robin’s voice stopped you from rattling. you watched as she pulled a long red dress from the back of your closet, “it’s perfect!”

your breath hitched when you saw the dress she’d picked. it was the dress you’d bought especially for a date you and steve were supposed to go on. you’d bought it months in advance, as a surprise, but never got to actually wear it since you’d broken up only a few weeks before you got to go.

after your and steve’s break up, you’d stuffed the dress in the back of your closet, not wanting to be reminded of how embarrassed you had felt about spending all that money on a stupid dress you never even got to wear. seeing it again, years later, made you remember why you’d bought it in the first place; it was gorgeous.

robin’s voice pulled you away from your thoughts, “what do you think??”

your eyes flickered between robin and the dress for a moment, eventually resting on robin, “i don’t know…” you sighed, “it’s been in my closet for years, i’m not sure it’ll still fit.”

robin narrowed her eyes at you, not believing your excuse for even a second, “your body type hasn’t changed at all.” she threw the dress in your lap, “and i mean that as a compliment, go on, try it!”

you sighed once more, “fine.” you mumbled, taking the dress in your hand and standing up from the comfort of your bed. you pointed your finger at robin, “but only because you’re annoying when you don’t get what you want.”

"thank you!" robin sing-songed, turning to the vanity on the other side of your room to busy herself with your make-up while you changed. your eyes stayed on robin for a moment before glancing down at the dress in your hands. while playing with the satin fabric you bit your bottom lip in uncertainty.

after standing in thought for a moment you mentally rolled your eyes at yourself. it was just a dress and it was definitely way too pretty to stuff it back into your closet for another five years.

with a light shake of your head you pealed off the clothes you were currently wearing and slipped inside the dress. while adjusting the straps on your shoulders you looked at your reflection in your mirror. a small smile grew on your lips as you let your hands glide down your hips to smooth out the fabric.

"holy mother of god." robin's voice pulled you away from your thoughts, "god is a woman, and that woman is you." you raised your brows at her words and a laugh escaped your lips, "you're insane, you know that, right?"

she smiled at you, closing the distance between you two to grab your hands and pull you towards your vanity. she moved her hands to your shoulders and pushed you down onto the chair. "okay, so, I've thought out this look that i think pairs so well with the dress." she spoke quickly as she grabbed your desk chair and sat down opposite of you, "close your eyes."

you giggled, following her orders. when you felt one of your make-up brushes touch the skin of your eyelids you smiled to yourself, appreciating this moment. after about a minute of silence, robin still focused on your make-up, you decided to voice a thought, "i know steve's your best friend, but thank you for helping me get ready for tonight."

"correction; you're both my best friends." robin slightly tilted your head up, "and do you really think steve was going to let me do his hair and make-up?" she snorted, causing you to giggle softly.

when robin moved onto your lips you opened your eyes again, seeing robin's brows knitted together in focus. "yes, perfect!" she exclaimed as she pulled back, closing the lipgloss she'd used. you turned your head to face your vanity mirror and a soft gasp left your just glossed lips when you saw yourself. "robin..."

you leaned in slightly closer to get a better look at yourself. robin had used a deep toned red to create a soft smokey eye and a gorgeous red tint lipgloss you didn't even remember owning.

"no need to thank me again," robin smirked lightly as she watched you admire the look she'd created, "i did it with love."

you turned to look at her with a wide smile, "thank you." robin threw her hands up, "i told you not to do that!" she stood up and pulled you along with her, "okay, now go kick some ass! not steve's."

you laughed at her words, again. robin had a way with words that would make sure she could get you to smile every damn time, and you adored her because of it. "I'll try my best."

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:

as soon as you stepped inside the familiar hawkins high gym you let out a strangled breath. a sarcastic laugh bubbled up in your throat when you noticed the school board had decorated the hall as if it was a regular high school dance. besides the cliché 'welcome back class of 1985' posters plastered all over the walls, they'd re-used snowball decorations, and the signature punch and drinks table was stood in the same spot you remembered it stood when you were in middle school.

to try and get over your nerves you decided to head to that exact table. you tuned out the sound of music and chatter as you grabbed a cup and filled it with punch. a soft breath left your lips before turning back to let your eyes glide over everyone mingling on the dance floor. when taking a sip of the punch you noticed how the recipe must not have changed at all, since it tasted exactly the same in your memory.

"it's weird, isn't it? to be back here." a voice you recognised all too well pulled your thoughts away from your old classmates. you snapped your head to the side to be faced with the one person you were hoping not to bump into tonight. your eyes glided over his side profile as he was focused on the dance floor.

"yeah..." you spoke after a moment of silence and turned back to look in front of you and took a big sip from your punch, "not even the people, it's just," you breathed out, "something about this place, you know?"

he hummed, crossing his arms, "yeah, i mean, what other school would use the same snowball decorations for every event they hold."

a chuckle left your lips before you took another swig from your drink. "you took the words right out of my mouth, harrington." you smiled lightly, turning to look at him only to find him already looking at you with a small smirk playing on his lips.

“how have you been?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested. you looked at him for a moment longer but eventually tore your eyes away from him, focusing back on everyone happily moving around the hall, “do you want me to tell you what i tell everyone else, or do you want me to be honest?” you asked before finishing your punch, placing your empty cup on the table behind you.

“whatever you feel comfortable telling me.” he noticed how your expression was tense and how there was a slight strain in your voice as you spoke. he spoke softly, not taking his eyes off your side profile, “but you know you can be honest with me.”

the fact you hadn’t seen him in years but he still spoke to you like he cared. you swallowed, knowing you’d tell him everything in a heartbeat, “can we go for a walk?” you glanced at him, his eyes still on you as he nodded, “yeah, sure.”

you internally thanked him for not joking around or completely dismissing the fact you wanted to get out of the over stimulating gym hall. you wrapped your arms around yourself as the two of you made your way out, through the hallways and eventually all the way outside. you felt almost instantly relaxed when taking a breath of fresh air, “it’s been difficult these past few years.” you eventually spoke up, your eyes fixed on the ground as the two of you walked side by side.

you had picked the honesty option. steve glanced at your side profile, but didn’t say anything; giving you the chance to speak your mind. you swallowed, "i'll think i'm doing alright, but then i wake up in the middle of the night, crying because i somehow got transported back in time and one of those stupid demodogs is trying to attack me." you tightened your arms around yourself, "or vecna's back to take max again, but we can't save her this time."

steve grabbed your arm, stopping both of you in your tracks, "hey, you still get nightmares?" he asked quietly, and when he looked over your features he noticed the tears forming in your eyes. "i thought those were over? you told me you didn't get them anymore."

your breath hitched slightly, remembering how you'd lied about your nightmares years ago, "I didn't want you to worry."

his brows raised, "you didn't—" he shuffled on his feet so he was standing directly in front of you, "you could've told me. i was your boyfriend, it was kind of my job to worry about you."

"i'm sorry." you smiled softly at his words, glancing down at his hand that was still secured on your arm, "I know that now, but i was—"

"don't apologise." he cut you off, following your eye movement with his and with the realisation he'd been clinging to you he retracted his arm. "do you still get them often?"

you looked back up to meet his eyes, "i used to get them almost every night, but it's gotten better over the years." steve nodded, still going over your features. you didn't want the silence to grow so you decided to redirect the conversation over to him, "how about you? are you doing alright?"

he shrugged, "besides the occasional migraine, i'm doing alright, yeah."

you slightly tilted your head, "you still get those?"

steve chuckle softly, "yeah, those russians must've known what they were doing." he ran a hand through his hair, "fucked me up pretty badly."

"i know, i'm sorry..." you smiled sadly, instinctively placing your hand on his upper arm, as if to comfort him. "stop apologising for shit that's not your fault." he reached up and took your hand in his, "can't really do anything about it anyway."

you gave him a singular nod and you felt him softly squeeze your hand. the conversation fell silent as you both basked in each other’s company. even though it had been five years since you’d seen him, for some peculiar reason, it felt like no time had passed at all. talking to him had always been easy and clearly nothing had changed.

after a couple minutes you lightly shook your head, finally realizing you’d been staring at him. you averted the gaze to your surroundings and found you’d ended up at the backside of hawkins high, close to the big willow tree that was now slowly going out of bloom.

a small smile formed on your lips at the thought of the two of you ending up here. the willow tree had always been your spot; you and steve having spent most of your high school days there. hiding from the rain or taking advantage of the shade during hot summer days, it never mattered.

you were sure your laughter could be heard over the entire schoolyard, but you didn’t care. “steve!” you exclaimed as he dragged you along with him, eventually stopping right underneath the willow. he leaned against the tree and pulled you closer to him. “steve, class starts in a couple minutes.” you giggled, placing your hands on his shoulders.

“which means we still have those couple minutes to do whatever we want.” he looked at you with his signature smirk as he placed one of his hands on your waist and the other on your cheek so he could pull you flush against him, dipping his head to connect his lips with yours.

you smiled against his lips, taking hold of his arm. “steve.” you mumbled. he hummed, moving his hand to the back of your neck, as if wanting to pull you even closer even though there was no space left between you.

“steve.” you tried again, moving slightly back with a small giggle, your eyes going over his features, “miss. thomson is going to kill us if we’re late.”

“who cares about miss. thomson.” he shrugged, moving his hand that was on the back of your neck to your waist as well so he could softly squeeze your hips. you playfully rolled your eyes, “i do. if i wanna keep my perfect attendance.”

he ignored your words and kissed you again, mumbling against your lips, “missing one class won’t hurt.”

you decided to just give in, already knowing there was no chance in hell steve was going to let you go. your hands found their way to his chest and up to his shoulders. he smirked against your lips when he realized he’d convinced you to stay.

you melted into the firm, but also soft, kiss. you and steve had kissed a multitude of times, but you knew you’d never grow tired of it; there was just something special about the way his lips felt on yours. your let your hands tangle up into his hair as you raised yourself to stand on your toes, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

the sudden blaring sound of the school bell interrupted you and you pulled back with a gasp. you glanced backwards to see everyone making their way inside the school building, “shit!” you cursed, looking back to steve who still had his eyes focused you, “come on, we gotta get to class!”

you untangled your hands from his hair and grabbed one of his hands. just when you started to take a step away from him, wanting to take him with you, steve pulled you back against him and placed his lips on yours once more. you immediately melted back into the kiss, but detached yourself from him not even a few seconds later.

“steve!!” you looked at him with wide eyes, “i hate you. come on!” you turned and started running off towards miss. thomson’s class, dragging him along with you.

your eyes were focused on the willow as you smiled at the memory. it was one of many, but all memories you had created with steve underneath the hawkins high willow tree were some of your favorites.

“what are you thinking of?” his voice pulled you away from your thoughts and when you turned to look at him you found him already looking at you, the exact same smirk as all those years ago playing on his lips.

you returned his smirk as you let your eyes wander over his features; they had matured but he was so obviously the same steve harrington as years ago, “i think you know.”

he chuckled, “i’m pretty sure all we did here was make out,” he glanced at the tree before focusing back on you, the smirk still playing on his lips “or maybe you remember something different.”

you laughed and lightly shook your head, “you haven’t changed at all, have you?”

he returned your laugh, running a hand through his hair. when a soft wind rustled the willow tree, he noticed how you shivered at the cold air, “wanna go back inside?” he asked softly.

“yeah, maybe we should start mingling with all the others,” you smiled softly. steve chuckled and offered you his arm. you smiled in appreciation, looping your arm through his and placing your hand in his bicep, “we have got to find out how many boyfriends christine martin has had by now.”

steve smiled but kept silent as you made your way back towards the school entrance. it was a comfortable silence and you cherished the moment you had just shared with him. when you were about to set foot inside, steve leaned closer, “you look beautiful, by the way.” he whispered in your ear, “i haven’t had the opportunity to tell you, but i’ve been thinking it since the moment i first saw you tonight.”

you turned your head to look at him and could tell he was slightly nervous telling you that, not knowing how you would react. however, you just smiled, reached up to place a soft kiss on his cheek and pulled him inside with you before he could say anything else.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Of thorns and blooms - Lewis Hamilton

request: "Can I request a Journalist reader, who lewis has his eye on and she interviews him and smexy antics ensue after the gathering. She wears a light up floral crown which lewis finds so cute and when they they celebrate an anniversary, he gives her an actual crown." - @omgsuperstarg

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Fashion Journalist! Reader!

wordcount: +3K

a/n: It took me sooo long to get the tone to this one right, but I hope it was worth the wait.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Y/n adjusted her dress for the hundredth time as she waited for the next person she would interview, the humidity in the air boiling them all in the enclosed paradise the famous steps of the MET. The buzz of the Gala was like a living entity. And tonight, she wasn't just a fashion journalist, she was a guest, courtesy of a hand-delivered invitation from Anna Wintour herself.

A small proud smile played on her lips. It had been a long road, from the early days working in college fashion blogs to the owner of her own digital media platform. She had conquered every step on the ladder the had envisaged for her career, and the MET Gala was the cherry on top.

Her gaze swept the red carpet, catching a flash of black that snagged on her breath. Lewis.

They'd met a few times before, most notably for his iconic Vanity Fair cover in 2022. Shot in pink, in none other than Valentino, it had been a bold choice, and she had made it justice in the interview. I was a peek into the soul of a man who rarely had let himself be seen that way. It was raw, honest, and had garnered her more praise than any piece she'd ever written.

On the human level there had also been something else, a connection beyond the professional aura, but it had remained just that – a spark.

Over the years, they'd stayed in loose contact. She would congratulate him on a good race, he would message whenever he read one of her articles, a selfie once, holding her printed fashion annual he'd found at an airport in Dubai.

It felt like a secret language, a shared appreciation in their vastly different worlds.

And that night, he looked…untouchable.

A vision in a custom Burberry creation. Although not far from the usual black, his overcoat was anything but ordinary, adorned with hand-embroidered floral motifs that shimmered under the camera flashes, the thorns in his necklace a powerful statement. Heritage and resilience.

As Lewis neared her corner of the press pen, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His eyes scanned the crowd, and when they landed on her, a flicker shone within them. He diverted his path slightly, heading straight for her.

"Y/n!" he boomed, his voice surprisingly warm for someone who always tried to maintain his stoicism.

"Sir Lewis Hamilton" she replied, offering a professional smile. "Looking sharp."

He chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. "You clean up nice yourself, Voltaire."

"Voltaire?" she raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Your floral crown. You quoted Voltaire on gardens being the only art that imitated nature in your preview of the met" He gestured towards her head, where a crown of intricately woven white flowers sat, each petal tipped with tiny LED lights that cast a soft glow. "It looks incredible by the way."

Her smile widened. "Maria Grazia Chiuri and I had a blast designing this piece. We wanted to honor the history of the floral crown, worn for centuries, but with a modern twist."

Lewis leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You always manage to find the hidden meaning, don't you?"

She met his gaze, the intensity surely not lost to her. "Fashion is all about meaning, Lewis. It's a language, a way to express ourselves." His gaze holding on to hers as she continued “Your statement in this Burberry. It's a powerful one”

He tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes, but just as he was about to answer back a microphone was thrust in front of them. A reporter, eager to get a quote looking impatient.

"Mr. Hamilton," the reporter began, "your outfit is quite…unexpected. Can you tell us the inspiration behind it?"

Lewis straightened his shoulders, slipping back into his professional persona. He launched into a detailed explanation of the Burberry design, his voice smooth and practiced. Y/n listened, captivated by his words and by the way his gaze flickered back to her every few seconds, a silent promise of something.

When the interview ended, the reporter scurried away. Lewis turned back to her; his smile warm. "They only gave me a few minutes," he said with mock disappointment.

"Well," she teased, "perhaps you could tell me the "real" story later," she finished, mirroring his playful tone.

A slow grin spread across Lewis's face. "Perhaps" he replied winking, a gesture that would have sent a lesser woman reeling. "I’ll find you later." He gestured towards the throng of celebrities and socialites milling about.

As Y/n wandered into the museum, she navigated the wave of guests with small talks and greetings alike. Her platform had gained traction over the past months, and her presence was becoming increasingly sought-after. But tonight, the glamor felt secondary as the show stoppers stood behind glasses of exhibitions.

As she stood and admired one of Balmain’s first collections, a familiar figure caught her eye. Lewis, leaning casually against a pillar, a glass of champagne in his hand. He was alone, just observing her, a smile breaking across his face as he saw she had noticed him, he made his way towards her, his movements graceful.

"There you are," a low rumble in his chest. "I thought I'd lost you."

"Hardly," she replied, a playful glint in her eyes.

"So," he began, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "tell me about this secret language of fashion."

"Where do I even begin?" she laughed, a genuine, carefree sound. "Every stitch, every embellishment, every cut – it all tells a story. A story of who you are, where you come from and how you want to be perceived."

The conversation flowed easily, a back-and-forth about the art of fashion, their contrasting worlds, and the subtle messages woven into every outfit. Lewis, she discovered, was surprisingly well-versed in fashion history, his knowledge going beyond the surface. He spoke of iconic designers, groundbreaking trends, and the evolution of style through the ages, his voice filled with genuine passion as he recounted how he had learned so much from her own words.

"You know," Lewis said, his voice softer now, "you're not like anyone else I've ever met."

" This one is not gonna cut it" she asked, her heart skipping a beat.

"Right…" he said, his gaze locking on hers. "But I meant it though. You look at the story behind people. That’s rare."

His words hit her like a sucker punch, laying bare a truth she hadn't dared to public admit. She had always craved for connection with people, and fashion, she had discovered, was her way to reach for those who held their stories and dreams in their eyes and heart.

Heat rose to her cheeks, and she looked away, breaking the intense eye contact. "Perhaps you see the same," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He leaned closer; his breath warm on her ear. "Tell me about your dreams, Y/n. What stories are you trying to tell?"

And then, when she couldn’t avoid his gaze on her anymore, when the silence of his question had almost drowned her, a booming voice cut through the air. "Lewis! There you are. We have to get going."

Lewis sighed, pushing himself away from the wall. "Right" he said, a touch of regret in his voice before he turned abruptly to Y/n, as if he had just decided to take a jump "I have a proposition for you."

Intrigued, Y/n raised an eyebrow. "A proposition? Do elaborate, Hamilton."

He leaned in again, close enough for his lips to brush against her ear. “Are you, by any chance, willing to pass on those other after parties and come to mine?”

Y/n seemed to be taken aback, but just like before, when she was about to answer him, he shot her a look “I’ll text you the details. I’d love to know your stories.”  And with a final lingering look at her, Lewis offered a charming smile. "Until later."

The afterparty held a low-key energy, a contrast to the frenzy of the Met. Y/n found herself at Lewis's expansive New York City apartment, surprised by the choice of venue. It wasn't the club she'd thought of, but a tastefully decorated space that felt more like a home than a celebrity crash pad.

Lewis had introduced her to a motley crew of people. Some of his friends, but mostly, a mix of young, up-and-coming designers, photographers Y/n knew by reputation, and even a couple of journalists she had came across an article or two. The air buzzed with conversations, a refreshing change from the interactions of the Met.

As the night wore on, the crowd thinned. Y/n found herself gravitating towards a corner where Lewis stood, deep in conversation with someone she remembered to have seen at some shooting before.

"That's Kelly," Lewis said, noticing Y/n's approach. "A design prodigy. Just landed a gig with Channel"

Kelly's smile widened as Lewis introduced them. "It's an honor to meet you, Y/n," she said, her voice brimming with excitement. "I've been a huge fan for a while now."

They chatted for a while, the struggles and triumphs of breaking into the fashion world. Looking at the young woman's vibrant energy, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in the platform she'd created.

But as Kelly was whisked away by another group, a comfortable silence settled between Y/n and Lewis.

He gestured towards an empty stool beside him. "Mind if I steal you for a bit?"

Y/n accepted the invitation, a playful glint in her eyes. "Only if you answer a question for me first."

"Shoot," he said, taking a swig from his drink.

"This isn't exactly the afterparty I expected," she said, gesturing to the relaxed setting. "Why here?"

Lewis chuckled, a low rumble that made her feel inadequately naïve "Maybe this is the real me," he said. "The part that doesn't crave the constant spotlight."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conversational whisper. "I thought you'd like this kind of party. I like to distance myself from the buzz when I can"

Y/n nodded, a smile playing on her lips. "A safe space."

"Something like that," he replied, his gaze lingering on her for a beat too long.

"So," Lewis began, breaking the building tension "I’m still waiting to hear about your dreams"

And so, for some ungodly pull, at a rather uncomfortable stool, she opened up to a man she had never really expected to create any kind of connection. Maybe, exactly because she never so that coming, it felt so easy to tell him her most guarded hopes.

She spoke of her platform as a way to democratize fashion, to give a voice to those who felt unseen, unheard. She spoke of empowering individuals to express themselves through who they really were, regardless of social status or bank balance.

As Y/n talked, she noticed Lewis's eyes gleaming with genuine interest. He wasn't just listening politely, he interest genuine, his questions insightful and thought-provoking. And she wondered if it was really that unexpected to find this depth hidden beneath him.

"That's incredible" Lewis said, his voice filled with admiration. “You’re giving people the tools for them to tell their stories."

"Exactly" Y/n said, a sense of understanding as he smiled with her. "It's about self-expression, about telling the world who you are."

A thoughtful frown etched itself onto Lewis's face as she leaned into the counter. "You know," he said, pausing mid-sentence, "you're quite a puzzle, Y/n."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Me? A puzzle?”

"There's this incredible fire in you" he continued, his voice low and husky, "a passion for giving others a voice. But then there's this… " he trailed off, gesturing vaguely.

"What?" she scoffed playfully. "I always thought I such was an open book."

Lewis chuckled; a dark, sexy sound that surely didn’t go unnoticed. "You talk about empowering others, yet I get the feeling there's a whole story you haven't shared of where that desire comes from"

Their connection had been simmering throughout the night, unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Now, with Lewis's gaze holding hers captive, it threatened to tip over.

The conversation around them seemed to fade away, swallowed by the growing awareness between them. Y/n felt his unspoken questions echoing in her mind, a challenge she couldn't ignore.

As the night wore on, the guests gradually dwindled. One by one, they bid farewell to Lewis, leaving him and Y/n alone amidst the empty bottles and scattered laughter.

Y/n found her gaze drawn to him again. He stood by the window, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights, his profile sharp and captivating. The urge to break the silence, to bridge the growing gap between them, became overwhelming.

She rose from the stool, her movements deliberate, and walked towards him. He turned, his surprise evident in his eyes.

"Everyone's gone, I should go" she said softly, her voice barely a whisper.

"Don’t. Please" he replied, his gaze still locked on hers. "I’d love if you could stay and"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Y/n cut him off, stopping just inches away from him. The air crackled with electricity, the unspoken desire a tangible force between them.

She glanced at the faint outline of his abdomen in the fabric of his Dior shirt, her fingers tracing invisible circles on the soft fabric. Then, in a bold move, she let her nails lightly scratch across his chest, sending a jolt of heat through him.

Lewis's breath hitched. He pulled her closer by her waist, his eyes burning into hers.

Their lips met in a heated kiss, a clash of urgency and teeth. Lewis's hands roamed freely over her back, his touch numbing her to the surroundings. He was hungry for all of her.

Y/n found herself caught in the current, her own desire rising to meet his. His lips traveled down her neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses.

A dark part of her, a voice fueled by the intoxicating aura of him, entertained the idea of becoming just another name on his long list of conquests.

But then, as his hand reached for her thigh, a wave of clarity put an end to the haze. This wasn't a one-night stand she craved. This connection, potent and undeniable, deserved more.

Y/n broke the kiss, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. "Lewis," she whispered, her voice husky.

He stared at her, confusion, concern and desire evident in his eyes.

"Dinner first," she said, a playful smirk gracing her lips. "Then maybe we can explore this mystery you see in me."

A slow smile spread across Lewis's face, the heat in his eyes softening to amusement. "Dinner it is," he agreed, his voice raspy. "But consider this a warning. I don't give up easily."

Sunlight danced across the Aegean Sea, glowing through the large round window of the yacht's cabin. Y/n stood before the vanity, applying a final touch of lipstick, her reflection a picture of contentment.

Five years. Five years since that MET and Lewis's afterparty, a whirlwind that had swept them off their feet and turned their world upside down.

A soft knock at the door startled her. "Come in," she called out, her voice filled with a hint of anticipation.

The door creaked open, and Lewis stepped inside. He was a vision in his crisp white linens, his hair free from the braids.

But it was the velvety box in his hand that held her attention.

"There you are," he said, a playful glint in his eyes as he walked towards her.

Y/n watched him through the mirror, her heart still skipping a beat whenever he was around. He stopped behind her, his warmth radiating through her back.

"What's that?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"A little something for my favorite fashion journalist" he replied, his breath tickling her ear as he leaned close.

He opened the box, inside, nestled on a bed of white satin, lay a breathtaking piece of jewelry – a floral crown crafted from delicate diamonds. Each petal was meticulously designed, some adorned with tiny thorns, others bursting into bloom.

It was both graceful and powerful. And it wasn’t quite a necklace, nor quite a tiara. It was a piece of art.

"Lewis," she breathed, her voice filled with awe. "It's…incredible."

He took the crown from the box, his touch gentle as he held it up to the light. "Anne Wintour helped me design it," he admitted, a hint of pride in his voice. "She said it reminded her of your outfit at the Met Gala, all those years ago."

Y/n held her breath as she looked at the jewelry. The floral crown, a memory of their initial spark, now reimagined with diamonds. The strength and beauty of their love that had blossomed despite adversity.

"The thorns," he said, her voice barely a whisper, "they represent the challenges we've faced, the distance, the different worlds..."

"And the flowers," he finished after clasping it to her neck, his voice husky with emotion, "represent our love, always blooming, even in the face of those challenges."

He adjust it to her skin, his touch gentle. "It's meant to be worn by someone who sees the world differently, who tells stories with every thread" he said, his gaze holding hers.

He cupped her hand in his, his eyes brimming with love. "Someone who wears her heart on her sleeve," he continued, his voice low and husky.

She turned and their lips met slowly, a lingering kiss that spoke volumes of their love and shared journey.

"Happy anniversary, Y/n," he whispered, pulling away but not letting go, his eyes shining brighter than any star.

"Happy anniversary, Lewis" she replied, the diamond floral piece catching the sunlight and reflecting a thousand tiny rainbows in their eyes.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf @priopp123

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[untoldsoup]

it's a xmas miracle i got this out on time lmao. Anyway I can't believe the comic is finished! Was a long journey but I'm so proud I was able to see it to the end without giving up.

(also little Easter egg; I used official art of yoshi's island ds for the painting in Luigi's living room)

I hope the comic was everything everyone wanted. I had a great time working on it and all the positive comments really encouraged me to continue.

I am working on the sequel btw! I actually have a bit of it done already and hope to post stuff about it sometime next year.

previous page: 42-47

start from the beginning here

edit: Link to sequel here!!

[fastandcarlos]

Through The Years : ̗̀➛ Lewis Hamilton

summary: you've been with lewis since day one, and you've got the instagram posts still saved to show just how much you guys have been through over the years

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked ynusername, mercedesamgf1 and 2,419,593 others

lewishamilton: WORLD CHAMPION BABY 🏆🏎️

291,492 comments

username1: always knew you were destined for greatness

username2: congrats champ 🏆

ynusername: pretty cool to say I’m not dating a world champ 💕

lewishamilton: @/ynusername you’re welcome 😂

username3: IM SO PROUD OF YOU LEWIS!!

nicorosberg: I’ll get you next year 😂

kimimatiasraikkonen: amazing season lewis, congratulations 👏🏻

username4: my world champ 🌍🏆

username5: we always knew that you’d get there…first of many 🫶🏻

jensonbutton: nice to see the trophy coming back to british seas 🎉

username6: cannot wait for you to be world champion for the next twenty thousand seasons 🥺

aussiegrit: amazing season, great racing with you this year!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lewishamilton, nicorosberg and 992,138 others

ynusername: apparently i'm a mercedes girl now, 2012 season incoming and i'm here for it, wishing you all the luck in the world my love

32,103 comments

username7: five years on and I’m still so thankful that lewis has you in his corner yn ❤️

jensonbutton: mercedes is the best team anyway 💙🏎️

username8: it’s taken years but she’s finally convinced 😂

username9: if you ever change your mind I’ll come and be a mercedes girl instead

lewishamilton: thank you for always being my biggest fan my love 💞

ynusername: @/lewishamilton always on your side 😘

username10: another world title pending…

username11: lewis doesn’t need luck, the title is his yn!!

nicorosberg: still can’t believe you’re not wearing my shirt around the paddock 🙄

ynusername: @/nicorosberg last time I checked I wasn’t dating you 🤷🏻‍♀️

username12: this is the level of girlfriend I aspire to be

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 1,982,503 others

lewishamilton: yn said we weren't allowed to have children yet so i went and got the next best thing, introducing roscoe 🐶❤️

148,580 comments

username13: omg roscoe is just the cutest 😭😭

ynusername: I already deal with a child every day living with you 😂😂

lewishamilton: @/ynusername stop exposing me like this!!

schecoperez: can’t wait to meet roscoe at the paddock soon!

username14: proudest dog dad ever!

username15: can I also be adopted by lewis and yn like roscoe please???

aussiegrit: how much are you paying poor yn to dogsit during race weekends 🤔

lewishamilton: @/aussiegrit she’s paid in love and affection don’t you worry 😂

username16: YET…there’s hope for the future still!!

valtteribottas: how have you adopted a dog and only just told me now? 😡

username17: roscoe is already my best friend and no one else’s

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, valtteribottas and 3,491,508 others

lewishamilton: still just as sweet to win all these years on, thank you mercedes fans for your continued support

104,592 comments

username18: true legend of formula 1 🤩

valtteribottas: congratulations, so proud to be your teammate 🏎️

username19: a decade on and still your number one fan!!

maxverstappen1: let someone else have a win for one will you? 😂

ynusername: and I’m still just as proud to see you on the podium as I was all those years ago 💕💕

username20: it’s unfair how talented one man can be 😭

username21: just tell us your secrets pls 😂

username22: all the other drivers wishing that they could be as talented as you!!

kimimatiasraikkonen: couldn’t think of a better guy to be p2 behind ☺️

danielricciardo: can you just retire already and leave us alone??

lewishamilton: @/danielricciardo: you’re stuck with me a little while longer yet

username23: no one else will ever compare to you…

hulkhulkenberg: teach me how to overtake like you 🙏🏻

username24: I’m not prepared for the day we experience f1 without this man 😭

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 859,182 others

ynusername: oh yeah...did i mention that i have a husband now?? 🥺

47,620 comments

username25: my two favourite people in the world are married…I can’t cope 😭

danielricciardo: congratulations, couldn’t be happier for the two of you 🥂

valtteribottas: we had the best time celebrating you guys ❤️

username26: how did they manage to get married and keep it an entire secret from the world???

username27: I want to see all the photos asap

landonorris: okay and my invite was where exactly??

ynusername: @/landonorris whoops must’ve got lost in the post somewhere 🤷🏻‍♀️

username28: the ultimate boyfriend material just became ultimate husband material

charles_leclerc: couldn’t have happened to two nicer people 🫶🏻

username29: my heart just skipped a beat with pure happiness for this 🥺

lewishamilton: have I mentioned how proud I am to be your husband? 💞

ynusername: @/lewishamilton I bet not as proud as I am to be your wife!

username30: why do I feel like I’ve been betrayed by not being told this news sooner??

georgerussell63: fyi best wedding I’ve ever been too!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63 and 2,492,608 others

lewishamilton: our greatest blessing is yet to come, yn and i are so happy to share that we are expecting our very own little one just before christmas...i could not be any happier as we start this new chapter ❤️❤️❤️

149,528 comments

landonorris: ah I’m so happy for you two!!

username31: omg this is just the best news ever!!

username32: my two faves are having a baby 🤯

schecoperez: I’ll make sure to pass all my tips onto you 😂

lewishamilton: @/schecoperez I’ll be needing all of them

username33: I’ve never been happier then I am right now 😭

ynusername: I can’t wait for this next adventure with you 💕

lewishamilton: @/ynusername no one else I’d rather do this with!!

charles_leclerc: cannot wait to meet your little one at the paddock soon!

jensonbutton: being a parent is the best feeling in the world ❤️

username34: I’ve waited so long to see this post and now it’s finally happening 🎉

username35: nobody speak to me for the next nine months

valtteribottas: uncle duties pending…

username36: they’re going to be the best parents I can already tell

carlossainz55: I know how much this means to you two…congratulations!

username37: THIS IS EVERYTHING 🥺

nicorosberg: simply couldn’t be happier, the biggest congratulations 👏🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carmenmmundt, alexandrasaintmleux and 729,501 others

ynusername: the best daddy i could ever dream of our little girl having, on cloud nine right now ⛅️

33,495 comments

lewishamilton: thank you for giving me the greatest gift ever 💞💞

username38: dad lewis is just something else 😭

carmenmmundt: I can’t wait for all the cuddles asap!!!!

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt I cannot wait to introduce you as soon as were at a race 😭

username39: my heart can’t cope with how adorable these photos are

georgerussell63: well these are just a little bit cute eh??

username40: thank you yn for blessing my timeline like this

username41: it’s not fair how one baby can be so cute 🤩

landonorris: this kid is too cute to be lewis’ surely 😂😂

username42: you can just tell she’s already got lewis wrapped right around her finger 😂

charles_leclerc: stop rubbing it in how cute your daughter is 😂

username43: ultimate daddy’s girl right here 🥺🥺

sebastianvettel: these photos are adorable yn, so happy for you guys!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, charles_leclerc and 1,492,043 others

lewishamilton: everything in life i do for these guys, everything i've ever wanted and more

42,291 comments

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[ienjoywritingfilth]

The night of the Concert

K I’m new here but I hope you like this even though it’s just filthy and horny and I like it like that. Maybe you will too.

pairing: dbf!Joel x fem!reader

trope Best Friend's Dad! Joel Miller

summary: your bf breaks your heart and you turn to the only person you can. It happens to be Joel Miller, your best friend Sarah's dad.

warnings: age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), dubcon, oral, infidelity, p in v, absolutely filthy talk, daddy mentioned, other shit but I've forgotten.

word count: 4.3k

The day is warm and the fan spinning next to you isn't doing much to help. You and Sarah are seated on her couch, you cross legged with her foot in your lap as you paint her toenails a vivid green. 

"I think he's gonna ask me to be his girlfriend," you say with a giggle as Sarah's eyes widen. 

"Really? Holy shit that's huge," Sarah says, watching as you swipe the green Polish onto her remaining nails. "He hasn't been serious about anyone since Mariana."

Mariana is your boyfriend Jeremy's ex girlfriend. A beautiful woman with high ambitions. You can't stand her and go to great lengths to avoid her when you see her on campus. 

Sarah is your best friend of several years, ever since your first day at college when you'd both been lost on your way to Chemistry. She's the reason you're with Jeremy in the first place. She's seen you through final exams, bad frat parties and your first college boyfriend. 

"You two will have the cutest babies!" Sarah says dramatically as you wave her off. 

"Gross. I'm only twenty-two, dude."

Sarah shrugs. 

"At least when you have kids you'll have a better reason to call him daddy."

The two of you bust out into braying laughter, so loud and for so long that when her dad comes in from the backyard he's grinning at the two of you. 

"What're you two gigglin' about for so long over there?"

Sarah's dad Joel Miller is about the nicest man you've ever met. Respectful, loving, patient and funny. You love being over at their house because you love seeing such a healthy familial dynamic at work. It's no wonder Sarah is so happy all the time. You envy that. 

"Nothing dad!" Sarah says, still wiping the tears from her eyes as the two of you continue to giggle.

"Yeah, nothing," you add, holding a pillow to your face to hide the laughter. 

"Okay, well the burgers are on the grill, jokesters. Can you get your mom? Think she's upstairs in the office."

Sarah nods, pushing off the couch and heading upstairs. 

"You staying for dinner, darlin'?" Joel asks you politely from the kitchen. 

"If you and Mrs Miller don't mind," you nod, coming to walk into the kitchen. 

You don't want to go home tonight. Your parents work long hours and the house is often empty. You're often here at the Millers place, eating dinner, studying, just hanging out. They always treat you well and always invite you to stay for meals. 

"We never mind," Joel insists as he mixes up the salad. "We only mind when you call us Mister and Mrs Miller. Makes us feel old."

"You're not old," you insist with an eye roll as you absently play with one of the edges of the decorative napkins. 

"Tell that to my knees." 

You laugh at that, turning to see Sarah and her mom Angela entering. Angela wraps you in a side hug and asks about school as the four of you gather around the dinner table. 

"I'll be glad when exams are over," you say with a roll of your eyes. "They stress me out so bad." 

"You say that and you always get top marks," Sarah says as she adds the tomato to her bun. "I bet you got an A+ on your last exam." 

"Yeah," you nod shyly as you add ketchup to your plate.  

"Your parents must be mighty proud," Joel offers before a sip of beer. Angela nods in agreement. 

"Yeah, your daddy must be so proud of you," Sarah drawls as she plates her salad, winking at you. 

The Miller parents look confusedly to one another when you and Sarah can't stop giggling.

----------

Date night with Jeremy! Dress with the stripes or the jeans? Where is he taking you? Ice cream and walk on the beach.   Sundress with the polka dots!!!!!  You're a genius Sarah Miller. I owe you big time Just pay me back by making me maid of honor at your wedding What are you up to tonight?   I'm taking my mom to see the Bangles for her birthday.  Awwww. Have fun! 

You toss your phone onto your daisy-patterned coverlet and stretch. It's a beautiful Sunday afternoon and you're in the best mood. 

You take a shower, slipping into the sundress Sarah recommended. As you do your hair and makeup in front of your mirror you fantasize about what awaits you this evening with your boyfriend Jeremy. 

You've been seeing him for three months now and he's always a gentleman, always taking you for thoughtful dates. Sarah introduced you as they're both in the same Philosophy class. Sexually he's just a little too eager, too quick. There's a lot to be improved, but you're happy to keep learning together. He's so handsome and smart. You love how he looks in his glasses when he's pouring over a textbook. 

A few hours later you’re showered, smelling delicious and wearing your shortest dress. You spin in front of your mirror before affixing a delicate lace bow to the back of your hair. You feel beautiful and you sigh dreamily.

Your phone beeps and you glance down to see Jeremy’s sent you a message. You smile to yourself, swiping up and reading the text.

Hey I'm sorry I don't think this is gonna work out. My ex and I have been messaging the last little bit and we're gonna give it another shot. I just wanted to be up front with you. 

You read the text over and over several times. It takes you that long to understand what’s happening. When you do you call Sarah, but it goes straight to voicemail. Over and over. You’re panicked, tears sliding down your face. You need to see her. You need comfort.

---------------------------

You arrive at the Miller home shortly after eight, pounding on the door as you sob. You’re surprised when Joel answers the door in jeans and a t-shirt, looking like he’s just woke up from a nap with bleary eyes and his hair mussed.

“Fuck, I’m sorry to wake you up Mr. Miller,” you sniff, wiping at your wet eyes. “Is Sarah here? It’s important?”

“Are you okay?”

He must see the frantic way you’re looking around or the tears that stain your cheeks.

“Jeremy broke up with me,” you tell him without hesitation.

"I'm so sorry," Joel grimaces, rubbing at the back of his neck and the clear display of discomfort. "Fuck I wish Sarah was here for you, or even Angela. But they’re at that concert tonight."

That's right, the Bangles. 

"Fuck I'm so sorry I forgot," you say shaking your head. "I'll leave-"

"Hold on now, I'm not sure it's a great idea for you to be driving right now," Joel insists. "Why don't you come in for a glass a water and a chance to calm down a bit?"

Under normal circumstances, you would be embarrassed at taking up his time. But considering how emotionally wrung out you are right now, you simply nod and follow after him like a sad puppy. 

He sits you on the couch and joins you moments later, passing you a glass of water. You drink it shakily as Joel smooths hair hair, watching you all the while.

“I feel so embarrassed,” you tell him once the glass is drained. “Acting crazy.”

“I know what heartbreak feels like,” Joel confesses. “It can make you crazy.”

You smile shallowly and nod at him before looking at your lap. “I’m a fucking idiot for thinking he was into me.”

"That's nonsense," Joel insists, taking your chin in between his thumb and index finger. 

"It's true," you say with your voice wobbling. "I thought he loved me," 

You whimper, tears falling down your cheeks. You're surprised when Joel pulls you into his sturdy arms. 

"Aw honey," Joel says holding you and rocking you gently.

One large hand goes to cradle the back of your skull, the other around your waist. You dissolve into tears as you say the last word and Joel holds you tighter. You bring your arms up around his neck, holding him as you cry, feeling safe and protected in his muscled grip. 

"It's gonna be okay." 

"Why do people always say that? It's not going to be okay!"

You pull away from Joel sharply, burying your face in your hands. You feel as Joel's body comes to shuffle next to yours, the cushions dipping as he moves until you're thighs touch. 

"Honey---"

"Nothing is going to be okay again," you whimper, turning to face your friend’s father. Joel looks so anguished for you, his hand coming to cup your cheek gently. 

"I know it seems like that now but I promise you there's lots of men out there."

"None like Jeremy." Your face crumbles. "None that will love me like him."

Now it's you who throws yourself into Joel's arms, burying your face in his shoulder as you cry. He rocks you slowly, petting your hair as you tears soak his flannel. 

"He ain't the only guy in the world." 

"He was special. He thought I was beautiful."

"You are," Joel insists at your jaw, still rocking you gently. "You're so fucking beautiful and don't you forget it." 

His words rumble through his chest and you can't help but feel your body soften at them. You didn't realize how much you needed to hear them until right this moment. 

"Thank you Joel," you sniffle, kissing his cheek gently without thinking. 

You feel him stiffen a moment, registering what's just happened. But he doesn't pull away. He keeps holding you, arms tight. 

And the sting of Jeremy's rejection seems to dim. With Joel's arms wrapped around you it's almost like he's shielding you from all that. It makes you feel grateful, and it's not long before you’re overtaken with emotion. 

"Thank you for everything," you breathe against his jaw. "You're so understanding."

"Not a problem," Joel says in a thick voice. 

And suddenly something in the air changes as Joel loosens you in his grip. A quiet hum, a vibration, starting between the two of you. Your hand is on his hip now, mouth tilting towards his face. You see his dark eyes dart from your eyes to your mouth and back again. 

"You're always so kind to me," you whisper, not breaking his gaze. Joel's breathing deepens and you feel all resolve leave you. 

Your mouth goes to his, tentative and gentle and you attempt to kiss him. He immediately pulls back from you, eyes wide. 

"Hey whoa," he says, pushing you gently back by the shoulder. "What're you doin'?"

You don't answer. Instead your hands trail down his stomach, tripping over his belt and coming to slide over the growing bulge between his legs. 

"Something that we both want, I think." 

He hisses at the contact, trying to jerk out of your touch. 

"I don't," Joel says quickly. But he doesn't pull your hand off of where they rest over his jeans. 

You don't know if it's the rejection from Jeremy or because you're doing something so wrong, but you can't stop wanting to touch Joel. There's something intense about this grown man getting red in the face, his breathing quickening as he allows you hand to gently massage him through his pants. 

"You deserve to feel good, Joel," you whisper as your hand goes to his zipper. "Let me make you feel good."

Joel makes a murmur of protest as he watches your fingers dragging the zipper down. He seems shocked, as if his body won't obey his brain. He makes a noise of protest when you slide your hand underneath his boxers, feeling his cock twitch. 

Joel flinches when your fingertips slip under the band of his boxers and graze his bare cock. He knows it's wrong when you wrap those same fingers around his shaft, but he's so fucking hard. He can't remember the last time he was this hard.

"You gotta---" he starts, but the rest of his sentence becomes a tight hiss as you you take him out of his pants. You marvel at the size of him, your fingers unable to meet at the base when you pull him free of his boxers.

"So big."

Joel watches you gaze at his cock, muffling a groan as you tilt forward and let a bead of if saliva drop from your mouth onto the head of his twitching cock. When you give a short stroke down, coating him in your saliva he feels he has to say something. 

"I'm married," he says weakly.

"Shhh," you murmur against his bearded cheek. "Let me do this for you."

You make a whimpering groan at the sight of him, thick and the weeping. 

"Honey, I---" He's leaning back into the couch almost like he's trying to stop what's happening. 

"Shhhh," you soothe against his jaw once more. "Just enjoy it."

Your hand begins to stroke up his shaft, using his copious pre-cum to glide. He growls lowly, hips sliding back and forth. 

"Such a big cock," you murmur, watching your hand slide up his girthy length. Joel makes a strangled noise before breathing deeply. His gaze is locked on your hand watching it delicately slide along his straining cock.

Use your mouth. Use your fucking mouth. 

He hates that this thought comes to him as he watches his daughters college friend jerk him off. Hates that this will be played on loop in his mind for years to come. Hates that his marriage of twenty three years is about to be flushed away for twenty minutes of pleasure. 

But he doesn't hate it enough to stop. 

"This...Mmmm... Shouldn't be doing this," Joel groans. You squeeze the tip and his head falls back against the sofa. "Fuck, you gotta stop-"

But even as he says this, Joel's hips are jutting forward, urging your palm to slide over his length over and over. 

"You're such a good man, Joel. You deserve this," you murmur against his ear, tongue coming to gently trace the lobe. "You deserve to feel good." 

Joel watches your thumb circle the rosy head of his cock and he shudders. Pre-cum starts at the tip, beading there enticingly. 

"You deserve to come," your warm breath fans against his neck. "Don't you?"

His head jerks back against the couch, eyes slamming shut as his cock twitches in your hand. You can see him relenting, his body twitching. 

"I shouldn't be doing this," Joel pants, thrusting his cock between your fingers. 

"You should.” Your mouth begins sponging kisses to the underside of his jaw. "Keep going. Lemme make you come." 

Your wrist snaps as you jerk him off faster, the wet sounds of his flesh turning you on even more. You wonder if he'll fuck you if you try to mount him. 

"This is so fuckin' wrong," Joel pants, his hips thrusting harshly against your palm. He's grunting, his hips off the couch as he fucks into your hands. 

He's just saying words, no thought behind them. It's wrong but he doesn't fucking care. All he cares about is the steadily building orgasm that you're bringing forth with every twist of your wrist. 

Your eyes are fixed on his face, watching as Joel's mouth goes slack and his eyes crack open, trained on your hand around his cock. 

"Want more, Joel?" You purr against his jaw. "My mouth?" 

Joel breathes shallowly, eyes going from his cock to your mouth over and over. 

Your hand slides quicker and Joel gives a strangled groan when your head lowers. You tilt your face, meeting his gaze as your tongue comes out to lick the head of his cock long and slow. Joel nearly jumps out of his skin. 

"Fuck," Joel grunts, his cock twitching. He breathes shakily before his eyes seem to darken. "Do it again."

You flick your tongue against the mushroom head before suckling gently at the tip. Joel's eyes roll back as you do this, tasting the sweet tang of his precum.  

You pull off, lower lip grazing the head of his bobbing length. You watch as he grits his teeth and his eyes find yours. 

"You wanna fuck my mouth, Joel?"

It's like he remembers who you are and what this is because you see regret cross his features. 

"N-no," Joel grits out with a wild flail of his head. "Gone far enough. This is---"

He's denying it, trying so hard to move back from you but you know he's close, the head of his cock is mauve and it twitches in your grip.  

"Would feel so good," you croon, tongue starting to circle the bulbous head once more. Joel is groaning, his hands in tight fists at his side. "I know you wanna fuck my mouth."

Joel is trying so hard not to give in. He tries to remind himself that you're his daughter’s friend, that he's happily married, that he isn't this kind of guy. But you’re so fucking sexy right now, desperate for his cock in a way his wife hasn't been for years. 

You swallow the first inch of him and he groans low and loud, his hips twitching. You pull him out slowly before you glance up at him, the throbbing head of his cock slick against your wet lower lip. 

"When's the last time you fucked someone's mouth, Joel?" You tease, and he sees the mirth in your eyes when he all but whimpers in reply. 

Joel's head is thrown back, a ragged sigh escaping him. He shouldn't want this, he shouldn't let you keep going.  

But then you take the length of him in your mouth, almost gagging at the thickness of him, and all coherent thought leaves him. 

You bob up and down on his length, eyes closing in bliss. Joel is carding his hands through your hair as you suck him off. 

"Fuck, take it deeper," he rumbles, and you feel his large palm on the back of your head, pushing. "Swallow it." 

"Yeash shur," you manage through a mouthful of cock.  

Joel can't hold back, he starts to thrust up into your throat, grunting as he fucks it. You hold onto his thighs, eyes watering as the bulbous head slips further and further. 

When you sputter you feel Joel come back to himself, gripping you by the back of your heck and pulling you off of him. You whine in protest as you sit back up, the sight of Joel's hard cock, still glossy with your saliva between you. 

“You need to stop.”

Joel watches transfixed as go to a stand beside the couch between his parted legs. He makes a sound almost pained as he watches you slide your fingers under your dress, tugging down and stepping out of your lace panties.

He just stays rigid when you crawl into his lap. You slide your wet slit along his cock, feeling as sharp huffs of air escape him. You feel heavy with power, your mouth going to his ear. 

"When's the last time you fucked college pussy, Joel?"

You smile when you hear the strangled sound escape him. You can see he's soaked with pre-cum, a shiny sticky collection wetting the coarse hairs at the base of his shaft. His eyes are stuck on the seam of your pussy teasing the head of his cock.

"It's okay to like it," you promise him. "It's okay to want this."

"I wanna put it in," Joel grunts. 

Your mouth is at his ear, warm and husky.

“Put it in.”

Joel groans and you feel his thick fingers start to squeeze your hips. He's not inside you yet, but he's so thick and warm against your pussy lips. He’s hypnotized, urging your pussy down, desperate to feed his cock into you.

“I need it," he whispers in a daze.

"You can have it," you encourage, breathlessly as you watch him grip his cock and guide it to your waiting hole.

"This is so fucking bad," Joel groans, half aroused, half disgusted with himself as he begins to feed his cock into your twitching pussy.  

You grin, fingers digging into his shoulders when the bulbous head breeches your entrance.

“Tell me to stop,” he almost begs but you shake your head.

“You deserve this,” you say. “Deserve to fuck my tight pussy.”

You’re married. You have a kid. This is fucking wrong.

All those worries are gone the second the head of his cock feels the velvet clench of your cunt. He can’t look away from where you’re both connected. Without warning he sheaths himself deeply, watching your brows crumple as you take him to the hilt. Joel watches your pussy swallowing his cock, knowing how fucking wrong it is and hating how he has no intention of stopping.

"I fuckin’ deserve this," he pants out, watching your tits bounce as you slide along his length. You ride him well, experienced, full of energy. He can’t remember the last time Angela rode him like this, like his cock was everything.

“Yes you fucking do,” you groan out, bouncing in his lap. He grips you tightly, fucking into you like you’re a human flesh-light.

He does deserve this. He works hard, he’s a good father, a loving husband. He’s never done anything like this before. Would never dream of fucking a girl who’s been over at his house for months, who’s never appealed to him like this until this very moment. A girl who’s tits jump with every thrust of his cock, whose wet mouth forms a lurid ‘O’ when he hits a particularly good spot. He deserves to have you ride him here in his house, a desperate, needy fuck.

Joel feels everything in him tightening as he watches you peel the dress off your body, tossing it over your shoulder and he sees you’ve forgone a bra this evening, letting the rhythmic slap of his cock up into you make them jiggle enticingly. You sit there naked, riding his cock with no shame or hesitation.

“You feel so good,” you tell him through a groan, your eyes falling shut.

He feels his balls contract when you start to cup your breasts, pinching the nipples as your head falls back. Joel can’t help but dart forward, latching onto your breast and laving at the taut nipple. You moan as he continues to fuck you, pausing when he grips your wrist.

“Make yourself cum,” He orders, forcing your hand between your legs. “Soak me.”

You nod doing as he says, rubbing your swollen clit for barely any time at all before you shuddering.

“Gonna cum,” you moan, head tilting back once more.

Your hands fly behind you, gripping onto his knees. Joel can see everything, see’s how your clit rubs against his shaft and your thighs shake.

"Fuckin' do it sweetheart," he croaks. "Fuckin' soak my cock."

He holds your hips again, entranced at how you slide up and down him, your arousal seeping down into the curled hairs at the base of his cock as you cum. He watches all of this in amazement, his breathing shallow and rapid.

You pull yourself back, your pussy fucking drenched as you slowly continue to pump yourself up and down on him. He’s still so hard, aching and desperate for release. He casts a feral smile at you.

“Keep fuckin’ yourself on it,” he tells you.

 You nod and he watches your plump mouth curl into a smile.

"You wanna fuck me full of your cum, daddy?"  

Without warning Joel suddenly goes rigid.

You think he's going to come but instead he's red-faced and gripping your waist. He pulls you off of him, his cock still hard and throbbing, slick from your earlier release. He shakes his head, panting.

"Fuck. No. We gotta stop."

"But---"

"This ain't right," Joel insists, tucking himself still hard back into his jeans with shaking fingers as you arch up. 

"But I want to."

"And if you keep going I'm not gonna be able to stop you," Joel lets out a shaky laugh, unsmiling as he tilts down to grab your dress. He passes it to you politely averting his eyes; as if this belated gesture means anything after all he’s done and seen. You frown.  

"Joel."

"I'm married and you're Sarah's friend. If that wasn't enough, I'm also two decades older than you."

"I like older men," you insist, trying to swing your thigh over his. Joel stops you, hand pressing you back gently. 

"You're too young to know what you want," Joel says sharply. 

"That's not true."

Joel surveys your face for a moment, concern softening the edges of his expression. 

"You just got dumped by the boy you love. You’re not thinking properly."

"No," you shake your head. "That's not it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," you say, hands reaching for his zipper again. "I just want this."

Joel shakes his head gently, fingers gripping your wrist and pulling you off of him firmly. 

"Honey you gotta stop," he says, taking your hand and placing it back in your lap. "This ain't you." 

You don't like how Joel is looking at you, like he's peeling your skin from your body, peering in to see what he shouldn't. 

"I could make you feel so good," you promise him, hand coming to palm him through his jeans once more. "Our little secret."

You see his resolve waver before his hand grabs your wrist, pulling you off of him.  He's looking at you with concern, with compassion. With pity. It makes the sting of his rejection more potent. You pull on your dress now, feeling the first pangs of humiliation starting.

"You need to go, honey. Right now." 

Now that the moment is sobering you feel a flash of panic.

"Are you gonna tell Sarah?"

"No." Joel shakes his head. "I'm not gonna tell anyone. But I think maybe you shouldn't come around here for the next little bit." 

"I understand," you say staggering to a stand. He walks you to the door in awkward silence. He opens the door and then he finally speaks.

"You are a beautiful, smart woman. Don't let one idiot make you forget." 

You eyes grow misty and you give a shallow nod before turning. 

"Thank you, Joel."

[requiemforthepoets]

underdogs dance in the middle of the night 𖦹 CL16

PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x fencer!leclerc!reader , f1 grid x fencer!leclerc!reader

SUMMARY: always being considered as an underdog, but the youngest leclerc is here to prove them wrong.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: it’s my first time doing something like this, and i apologize on my dry humor…but i hope you still enjoy this though.

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect to the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: typos

FACE CLAIM: maxine esteban and others on pinterest, but mostly maxine esteban.

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl and 578,982 others

ynleclerc 2022-2023 was one hell of a ride.

This past year has been a never ending whirlwind of challenges and triumphs. From the devastating ACL tear and the subsequent surgery that threatened my fencing career to the grueling recovery process that tested my limits, it has been a journey of resilience, determination, and unwavering support. After six months of rehabilitation, I am beyond thrilled to share that I have received medical clearance to return to competitive sports.

However, that’s not all. I have been keeping this secret for a while now, one that I have cherished and guarded closely, even from my family. Today, I am proud to announce that I am switching my fencing nationality from Italy to Monaco. This decision has been a deeply personal and emotional one, driven by my love to Monaco, my home, and the desire to represent Monaco on the global stage.

I owe a debt of gratitude to my former team for shaping me into the athlete I am today. Now, as I embark on this new chapter representing Monaco, I carry with me the lessons and memories that have defined my journey so far.

Je suis heureux (se) de vous annoncer mon changement de nationalité sportive, passant de l'Italie à Monaco. C'est une décision qui me remplit de fierté et d'un profond sentiment d'appartenance. Merci à tous ceux qui ont rendu cela possible et qui continuent à me soutenir dans cette nouvelle aventure 🙌🏻

I am thrilled for what lies ahead and am setting my sights on qualifying for Paris 2024. Together, let's write the next chapter of this incredible journey. Merci infiniment. 🇲🇨🤺❤️

view all 10,739 comments

pascale.leclerc.355 C'est une nouvelle très excitante, mon chéri ! Je suis impatiente de te voir aux Jeux Olympiques représentant Monaco! ❤️🇲🇨 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc Merci maman pour ton soutien sans fin!! Je t'aime tellement!! 😭❤️

username1 OUR FAVORITE LECLERC REPRESENTING MONACO!! 🙌🏻

username2 OMG imagine if y/n won a medal in the Paris 2024, she’ll be the first one to win a medal for Monaco in the olympics!! 😭❤️

username3 charles winning the monaco gp and y/n winning the olympics 2024, imagine the POWER. prince and princess of Monaco 👏🏻

username4 MANIFESTING PARIS 2024!! 🗣️

carlossainz55 Vamos, y/n!! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

scuderiaferrari Congratulations to our favorite Leclerc!! ❤️❤️❤️ ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

charles_leclerc I can’t believe that I’ll find out this amazing news online?! Félicitations à notre petite sœur! Je sais que tu vas faire des merveilles, tu es une formidable escrimeuse. Il n'y a aucun doute que tu te qualifieras pour Paris 2024! Nous t'aimons tellement ❤️ ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc tbf, i never told a single soul abt this, and it was really hard keeping it from you guys!!! But thank you so much, charlieee 🥺❤️ ♥︎ liked by charles_leclerc

pierregasly Secure that gold medal! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username5 i’m a new fan of f1 and i just found out that charles has a younger sister?!

username6 yes! she’s the youngest of the leclercs and she’s a fencer!! there’s a thread about her on the x app!!!

haterusername1 she’s gonna be losing left and right. italy is at the top of the game when it comes to fencing, this transfer is literally a bad move for her lmao can’t wait to see her lose lol

TWITTER POST

ynleclerc

liked by pascale.leclerc.355, arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc and 465,323 others

ynleclerc new season, same dream. 🤺🇲🇨 let’s go! ❤️🔥

view all 12,838 comments

pascale.leclerc.355 Je suis tellement excitée, mon cher! Faisons honneur à nous-mêmes et à Monaco! 🇲🇨💕 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc Merci maman, je t'aime!! ❤️

landonorris PARIS 2024 HERE WE COME!! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc hold your horses there, norris. i have yet to win the championships 😂

landonorris already claiming and manifesting it

username7 OLYMPIAN Y/N LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO

username8 MANIFESTING SO HARD FOR THE QUALIFYING

username9 if she qualifies for Paris 2024, i’m shaving my eyebrows ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username10 NOT Y/N LIKING THE COMMENT 😭😭😭

username9 QUEEN I- 😭😭😭

haterusername2 she’ll be demolished by the other fencing team, knowing that the monaco’s fencing team are weak. haven’t even won any medals in the olympics lol, as if she’ll be able to qualify in the Paris 2024 🤥🫠

haterusername3 totally agree! not all these people hyping her up just bc she is some famous person’s sister. tbh, her fencing is literally average.

username10 omfg shut up you boomers. bet a hundred bucks that you cant’t even do what she does LMFAO speaking as if you have fenced in your whole life.

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, landonorris and 687,943 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and scuderiaferrari

ynusername supporting my fav ferrari bros charles_leclerc & carlossainz55 before heading off to Cairo. Forza Ferrari! ❤️

view all 15,839 comments

scuderiaferrari it was such an honor to be graced by your presence, our favorite ferrari girl! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc I had a very amazing time. thank you, ferrari! ❤️

landonorris WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME YOU’LL BE ATTENDING THE GP 😭 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc SORRY I FORGOT TO TELL YOU OMG 😭 I’LL MAKE IT UP TO YOU NEXT TIME!!

oscarpiastri I thought you’re team papaya 😔 heart been broke too many times 💔 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc i’m so sorry my nephew 😔💔

oscarpiastri we’re the same age 😐

ynleclerc but you’re my bro’s child 😔 btw, say hi to lily for me!! miss hanging out with her.

oscarpiastri will do 👍🏻 lilyzneimer y/n says hi and told me that she missed hanging out with you

username11 OSCAR WTF 😭😭😭

mclaren pls be in our garage next time 😔💔 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

scuderiaferrari back off sis, she’s ours ✋🏻😐

username12 not ferrari and mclaren fighting for her in the comsec 😭

fencing_fie

liked by ynleclerc, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, and 987,745 others

tagged: ynleclerc, paris2024, olympics

fencing_fie On her way to Paris 2024, ynleclerc is inspiring the next generation in 🇲🇨

view all 36,873 comments

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lilyzneimer, and 1,673,992 others

ynusername I can’t stop crying. We did it kids.

OFFICIALLY QUALIFIED FOR THE PARIS OLYMPICS 🇲🇨🥹❤️

Qualifying for the Paris 2024 Olympics is another check in my list, and representing Monaco makes it even more special. This journey has been long. Series of heartbreaks and tears, some milestones…but whatever happens, I am happy and thankful to be where I am right now and meet such wonderful people around the world.

To my family. Maman, Lorenzo, Charles, and Arthur, thank you for never giving up on me and my dreams. For sticking with me through thick and thin, especially during the challenging times after my ACL tear and surgery, I know that I was unbearable that that time, crying 24/7 because I kept on thinking that it might be the end of my career, but your love and encouragement has been my strength. To my medical team, thank you for pushing me in getting back on my feet and giving me chance to chase my dreams once again.

Le plus beau des rêves se réalise aujourd’hui. Merci à tous pour votre soutien. Je suis prêt pour ce nouveau chapitre!

Love, y/n 🤍

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scuderiaferrari CONGRATULATIONS TO OUR FAV FERRARI GIRL!!! ❤️🔥

ynleclerc thank you, admin 🥺❤️

lilymhe i know that i might be beheaded by my own country, BUT FUCK IT LETS GO MONACO!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username13 OMF LILY 😭😭😭

mclaren WAY TO GO Y/N!! 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username10 how are we feeling today? better prepare your eyebrow username9

username9 already prepared and accepted that i’ll be shaving my eyebrows ✊🏻

ynleclerc tag me when you do it…JK pls don’t!! i don’t want your mom to be angry at me 😭

username9 OMSJDJEJDJWKDK

landonorris SEATED. READY. FRONT ROW. ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username14 BOOKED MY FLIGHT TO PARIS FOR THE OLYMPICS, CANT WAIT

username15 MOTHER.

francisca.cgomes YESSSS GIRL YOU GOOOOOOOOOO 🙌🏻🔥💪🏻 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

alexandrasaintmleux congratulations!!! we are all behind you!! 🇲🇨 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

lilyzneimer oscar and i are ready, we will be there!!! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

arthur_leclerc YEEEEEEEES congratulations, petite soeur! celebration is in order 😁🥳🤩 ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, georgerussell63, and 2,473,973 others

tagged: ynleclerc

charles_leclerc I can’t believe it, our petite soeur just qualified at Paris 2024!

Remember when you first picked up a fencing foil, nearly took out the living room lamp and maman getting angry 😂 all of us knew that you are destined for greatness right then and there (or at least destined to break a lot of household items). Fast forward to today, screaming your heart out in victory, making us all incredibly proud!

I’m so excited to see you compete in Paris 2024. I know you’ll do great. Congratulations, superstar! You made us all proud. Let’s get ready for Paris!

OUR BABY SISTER MADE IT TO THE OLYMPICS!

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ynleclerc YOURE MAKING ME CRY AGAIN 😭 thank you, charlie. love you!!! 🥹🫶🏻 ♥︎ liked by charles_leclerc

lewishamilton Congratulations, ynleclerc! I know you’ll do everyone and Monaco proud! 💪🏻❤️ ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

ynleclerc thank you so much, sir lewis!

georgerussell63 Congratulations! Carmen and I will be there in support! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

pierregasly gold medal secured in the bag! ♥︎ liked by ynleclerc

username16 PRINCE AND PRINCESS OF MONACO! 🇲🇨

username17 charles and y/n making monaco proud!! 😭❤️

username18 the moment y/n wins the olympics, prepare to be sick of me. PREPARE TO BE SICK OF ME!!!!!