#at finally exposing my oc

[stormvanari]

guy’s actually got bruises from metal flying at him due to his magnetism magic, but he hid them with a concealment stone on the center of his gear hairpin

[liquidstar]

WOW I FINALLY FINISHED THIS SET. There were a lot of things I wanted to get right for them so I took some extra time but hopefully it was worth it! The guild for this set is Cobalt Heart- a guild with focus on maritime missions, lead by (of course) guildmaster Neptune. There was no other planet I could've picked for his namesake lol. They're the guild I jokingly call the most jockish, but some moreso than others. I really do hope I did all the characters justice, but if you wanna know more about the individual members, it's under the cut as usual!

Name: Neptune

Name Origin: The planet named for the god of the ocean

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 52

Guild rank: Guildmaster

Weapon: Trident

Ethos (Power): Ocean wave (Control over water- stronger with sea water)

Flaw power is based on: Originally based on his overly relaxed go-with-the-flow nature, but since becoming a father and guildmaster he's matured, and his power grew from simple wave control to more powerful control over the ocean's water. Waves aren't always peaceful, but he's become someone who understands their power and the responsibility needed for it.

Notes: If it's unclear, the marks on his chest are meant to be top surgery tattoos, but in cool wave shapes!

Name: Triton

Name Origin: Neptune's moon, aptly named for his son

Pronouns: He/they

Age: 24

Guild rank: 4 star

Weapon: Twin sai

Ethos (Power): Ocean breath (Underwater breathing as well as other aquatic adaptions)

Flaw power is based on: His ardent wanderlust, especially in regards to the ocean. They literally cannot leave it alone despite any possible better reasoning, which is when it becomes a problem.

Notes: Was his other parent a mermaid or did they just do the fish thing on their own? The world may never know.

Name: Otrera

Name Origin: A trojan asteroid named after the queen of the Amazons

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 32

Guild rank: 5 star

Weapon: Brass knickles

Ethos (Power): Preflexes (Hightened reflexes)

Flaw power is based on: Her overly-guarded and cagey nature.

Notes: But her brass knuckles are pink so its quirky when she knocks your teeth out.

Name: Naos

Name Origin: A star whose name means "ship"

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 21

Guild rank: 3 star

Weapon: Modified crutches

Ethos (Power): Helm (He can change the direction of inanimate objects. It's not limited to projectiles, he can change the direction of objects while they're in someone's hand too.)

Flaw power is based on: His avoidant tenancies, especially where more serious responsibility is concerned.

Notes: Honestly? Joined the guild to boost his playboy status.

Name: Aitne

Name Origin: One of Jupiter's moons, named after the personification of Mount Etna, a stratovolcano

Pronouns: They/them

Age: 27

Guild rank: 4 star

Weapon: Spiked gauntlets and armor

Ethos (Power): Molten Core (Lava manipulation)

Flaw power is based on: Their brash and destructive nature.

Notes: Likes all their food to be charred.

Name: Ariel

Name Origin: A moon or Uranus, named after an air spirit!

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 16

Guild rank: 2 star

Weapon: Baton

Ethos (Power): Harmony (Perfect balance on anything)

Flaw power is based on: Her own difficulty maintaining emotional balance under stress

Notes: She's a gymnast! And even though I didn't make the character named "Ariel" a mermaid, you can still see a scale pattern in her leotard!

Name: Maru

Name Origin: A white dwarf whose name means "Sky." It's orbited by the planet Ahra.

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 18

Guild rank: 3 star

Weapon: Claymore sword

Ethos (Power): Sky walking (She is capable of interacting with air as if it were a tangible object, creating leverage for herself to walk and balance on as if it were solid)

Flaw power is based on: Her somewhat vain tendency to place herself above others

Notes: Complete and utterly confident she's the cooler twin

Name: Ahra

Name Origin: A exoplanet whose name means "Ocean." It orbits the star Maru.

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 18

Guild rank: 3 star

Weapon: Claymore sword

Ethos (Power): Wave riding (Creation and control of tidal waves to ride on, as if she was surfing them with no board. But she does have to be on them.)

Flaw power is based on: Her arrogance and recklessness

Notes: Completely and utterly convinced she's the cooler twin.

Name: Pipoltr/Pip

Name Origin: A star named for "a bright and beautiful butterfly."

Pronouns: Whatever really?

Age: 8

Guild rank: 1 star

Weapon: Giant lollipop

Ethos (Power): None yet!

Flaw power is based on: N/A. This doesn't mean they're flawless, but until their power develops they're really just here to go on fun little adventures.

Notes: This child hangs around with sailors all day long. The words they know....

[manicali]

I wanna write a book but my writing style (melodramatic musings about life love and death) doesn’t fit anything I could write. Honestly I had a short phase (eighth grade) where I had this whole book series planned out but eventually I ditched it because it was very middle grade style and I felt so trapped in that. I think I’m finally coming out of that box I had been locked in of trying to make a story that felt like what I used to read.

That and for the life of me I can’t write people my age. I don’t know why but literally the only time a teen will be my mc is in free therapy, I pit a lot of mathing towards avoiding writing teenagers in Project Level 001, okay I have never hated anything more than writing people my age.

[egglygreg]

Disney style Zhahara holding an okari joey, while Nimble the sumic possum “inspects”

[wainwrightjakobshammerlock]

winded ward my beloved transgender warcriminal

(reblogs > likes, please click for better quality)

[sparklestheunicorn]

10 characters/10 tags

Thank you @hyacinth--girl for tagging meeeee💖💖💖💖

Inej ghafa

Shallan davar

Art by @outlandidol

Regina Mills

Kaz brekker

Nona

Art by Tommy Arnold

Aelin ashryver galathynius

Art by @artsbygih

Jasnah kholin

Art by @loucygoosey

Palamedes Sextus

Art by @oblivionsdream

Nahri e'Nahid

Art by @aprilcider

Richard Campbell gansey III

Art by @feluart

Tagging @vanillalipstick66 @firstprince @butterflysclaws @theodracrain @the-dark-instruments @criminalizemoney @oop-theregoesgravity @evies20dollars @magicbees @bookofmirth

[astrxealis]

leon theme i spent my early morning hours working on even tho i have to wake 6 am !!! 🫵🆒✨ (it is 10 minutes to 5 am)

[sleep-0-deprived]

Before I start, I just wanna say I love your work, keep it up!!

A bit of a feminine m!reader and a stalker, kind of like the song stalker’s tango by autoheart (praise kink and anything you wanna add)

Love me love me love me~! (Stalker Oc x feminine male reader) ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶ ꒱ྀིა

WC:. 1.5k

Tags: praise kink, back shots, creepy character, dub con (reader doesn’t say but he wants it), stalking, spit as lube, men in panties, college AU, p in a sex, bad prepping(basically no prep cause he wants reader to feel em), slight Yandere themes?, coming inside panties, lil come play<33

A/N thanks for the request! I didn’t know your kinks so I tried to keep it pretty vanil for the fic but I just get the vibe that the stalker is a lil bit of a yandere ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

College was the time you were supposed to be the most happiest. freedom, no parents breathing down your neck and looking at you wearing your new skirts and finally away from Him…anyway this is the beginning of something new and that made you terrified excited.

Here you were grabbing boxes from the back of a hand me down car you bought last year, your hands full walking around campus searching for your dorm room. The sound of other college students bustling past even a frat boy running through the corridor laughing while another man smacks his shoulder.

Your heels clicking on the floors getting into the elevator finally out of view of the other students, not caring if they stared at you when you walked past them in your little skirt.

Finally finding your door room, room 234 in the third wing on campus. Pulling the door open and then it happens, the boxes nearly dropping from your hand “Jasper?..” the man that single handedly ruined your teen years, the man you filed a restraining order against- the one that stalked you since middle school, putting cameras inside your shower, under your bed.

There he stood in all his glory, black hair all messy with his green eyes piercing you over like an interested cat, a crooked grin on his lips looking at you like some god before him. You quickly sit your boxes down on the twin bed to the left of the room with your hands now by your side looking at him.

“Did you miss me any [name]? I really missed you, so goddamn much” he walks over to you leaning down and shoving his face into your neck breathing in your scent without a care in the world “how’d you find me Jasper…my parents made sure you didn’t know the colleges I applied for” your lips pressed into a thin line standing stiff and finding no comfort in the man’s touch.

“I total you I’d never leave you baby? Can’t live without you [name] I wouldn’t wanna” he kisses his way down grabbing at the hem of your shirt slipping under it and massaging his palms into your sides.

“Y’know I don’t want you Jasper, I never have so just stop” you mutter out all squeaky trying to get away even if your body knew you wanted it, even if you couldn’t deny you found him hot you’d never admit it so you did the next best thing and tried to push away but only failing in return.

“Don’t lie to me baby, you’re already getting hard so hard in that little skirt, it’s like you’re asking for me to fuck you?” His lips muffle themselves against your skin starting to suck it red while holding you pined between him and the wall while his second hand makes its way down to your mini skirt starting to lift it.

“Dammit Jasper… stop that” you speak out because you’re in to deep to say otherwise feeling your cock bulging in the pink panties you were wearing. You had no stockings under your skirt letting your bulge get exposed while you go red in the face feeling jaspers hand snaking down giving it a rough squeeze before pulling his lips off your neck breathing heavy in your ear.

“Just be a good boy and bend over for me sweetheart” you don’t know why but you walked over to your twin size bed, not even getting on it just bending over on the side of it and shoving your face into the sheets standing in a pair of heels spreading your thighs.

“Mh, baby so fucking beautiful, no idea how long I’ve been imagining this” he lifts your skirt in the back showing off the cotton fabric with little bows riding up between your cheeks making him smile reading his hands down and grabbing your cheeks spreading them and watching how your rim puckers up against the panties.

His thumb rubbing down your crack spitting on your panties and using his thumb to rub the now translucent fabric against your bud making sure to get it nice and wet while you lay with your cock weeping against the mattress feeling your knees buckle from the feeling.

“O-h you’re a pervert Jasper!” You yelp out and try to yell at him but fail when he reaches his hand off your ass cheek and grabs the back of your neck shoving it into the bed making your voice get muffled, “such a cruel accusation [name] I’m not perverse, I just love you baby?”

He’d coo to you from behind while the hand messing and teasing with your rim finally pulls your panties to the side of your ass just admiring how you’d clench around the air so effortlessly, your rim half prepped from all those nights you’d whine and finger yourself in your bed. Which of course he knew about back then, he had cameras?

“Want me to fuck it?” He’d ask you softly even though you knew he was going to fuck you either way “y-eah” you nod into the pillows gasping when he lets go of the back of your neck to undo his jeans making sure your skirt was pushed upwards on your waist, “you should really get a tramp stamp sweetheart, get me something all pretty to aim at when I’m coming all over that pretty arch”

Your face went red as a beat becoming more thankful he was behind you so he couldn’t see your reaction but he already knew it when your rim winked at him again trying to swallow his finger tip like quicksand having him all giddy and infatuated with you. Jasper having been waiting years to get his cock nuzzled between those perky little cheeks.

“So warm sweetie, just gonna fuck you so nice baby” his voice comes out rigid pulling his boxers down letting his manhood spring free finally standing tall against his t shirt before he presses his dick between your cheeks and uses his hands to grip both cheeks sandwiching his cock between them as he rocks his hips spitting down on your ass again using it as lube fucking between your cheeks having your face down and your ankles bending out in your heels.

“Just push in already Jasper, don’t fuckin tease me~” you moan reaching your hand down to your panties starting to palm yourself through the panties feeling yourself soaking the Cotten closing your eyes just feeling what’s happening to your body having you melting like ice cream during summer.

“Always a greedy boy weren’t you?…well doesn’t matter, still love you” he speaks nudging his pudgy cock head against your rim spreading the muscle open wide making him hiss “fuck that’s it sweetie” he tilts his head back rubbing your ass cheeks softly trying to get you to loosen up around him having him on cloud nine scrunching his nose up bottoming out inside you ready to come on the spot.

“Jas— oh’m g-od” you croak and choke on your words going loose and fuzzy in the head just laying with your ankle wobbling to stay bent in your heels just screwing your eyes shut only opening them with he gives your ass cheek a little smack letting you adjust to his girth. Jasper bucks his hips forward making your face droop back down as his hips squish your plump skin.

Your hands going limp like jello under you unable to palm your neglected cock, just laying with your body limp letting him have his way with you praying to whatever was up in the sky that other students didn’t hear Jasper giving you back-shots on your first day at campus. “You have no idea h’many nights I imagined getting myself inside your pretty body, mmh you’re worth the wait sweetheart”

You feel your rim on fire when his base stretches you wider making your back arch trying to take him, your cock jumps in your panties at his dirty praises having you in hysterics hating the man but also just wanting him to hold you close and fuck you like you deserve, you’d never tell him though. “You can start movin-!” You cry out arching under him gripping the bedsheets tight.

“Shh stay quite sweetheart, stay nice and sweet for me [name]” Jasper speaks softly moaning under his breath bucking his hips feeling a hot flash in his abdomen trying not to come before you but goddamn you were like heaven around him, you were his addiction, his ambrosia and he couldn’t get enough.

The sound of flesh in flesh filling up the dorm, his hands gliding over your body gripping the skin like a feral dog fucking you from behind having you reaching for the wall while the bed creaks shaking back and forth while your eyes open back up going wide and dumb when his cock assaults York inner walls hitting your sweet spot having you loosening up not clenching his cock so tight, jaspers hands pulling in your panties from behind making them tighter in the front, making your cock pulse against the firm fabric

“Please Jas, please just—“ you beg, you break you fold flush like a bad poker game not even knowing what you were pleading for just knowing you needed to come so bad your balls were swelling up going red in your panties about to explode when his cock halts pushing further and further against your prostate like a rubber band being stretched and pressed further and further about to snap.

“Please what sweetheart? Tell me what you want, promise I’ll give it to you” he speaks to you like a doll in complete opposites to how he was fucking you, his hands reaching letting go of your panties making you squeal from the release of pressure, he keeps fucking you thrusting and pumping his hips pressing his pubes to York lower back reaching up under you to your stomach to hold you up.

Holding you up half off the bed fucking you harder with your face still in the sheets and your hips raised high for him mewling feeling your favorite skirt go higher up on you. “Please make me cum, please get me off Jasper” you whine and you spasm around his dick. Your rim trying to take more until his balls press against yours, running together when he fucks into you.

“Come for me baby, just let go, lemme make it all better for you doll” his pace picks up fucking you like some jack rabbit in heat. His hands tugging at your belly leaning forwards leaning back down laying on top of you bent over the bed heaving in your ear kissing the red marks he made on your neck snaking one hand down inside your panties tugging on your cock.

“S’ happening jas, gonna come” you can’t help but to shiver and let go of the bedsheets arching your back against his stomach crying out wailing all cock drunk slurring your words while your cock pulses in his hand coming all inside your panties only further soiling them when the thick ropes leave your red cock head feeling like a release through your whole body having your balls relax a little once they’re fully emptied.

“There’s my good boy, I knew you were a sweetheart, just needed a little pounding to bring it out” Jasper kisses your neck sucking on the red marks using his canines to pinch the skin letting go York your cock and slamming into you harder becoming less in rhythm and more desperate to get off.

You can feel his balls drawling up when they press against your ass, his veins rubbing more prominent against your inner walls having you biting your bottom lip with your toes curling in your heels while he thrusts one more time inside you piling out with a loud gasp “o-h fuck [name] feel what you do to me?” He asks shuddering behind you fucking between your spit slick ass cheeks letting his cock nudge your rim but never actually pushing in.

The next thing you know hot ropes of cum pump out spewing all over your hole getting between your cheeks feeling the hot liquid running down your arch getting on your back and your skirt practically coating you like he meant it. “Thought you were pretty before but admit seeing you covered in my cum makes you even prettier”

He lifts his head from your neck whispering the words out to you before slipping his hands from under you and massaging the cum all over your body rubbing your cheeks down with it slipping two slickened fingers inside you again playing with you before pulling out.

“Let me have a date baby, I promise I can treat you so good, I’ll be so sweet to you I’ll be s’much better than your ex was” he whispers to you cooing like a snake in the garden of Eden ready to tempt you into his sinful world. “You’re fucking crazy Jasper” you huff lifting your head laying now lifting yourself up on your elbows with your body aching from the rough fucking you just took, his hand marks and imprints leaving your skin swollen.

“I’m only crazy for you, you’re the only man that makes me feel it…only wanna kiss N’ love, only wanna come on you sweetie”

[zolass]

Oblivious Idiot Top Male Oc x Bottom Male Reader

Posting four days in a row, I'm literally just using the motivation of the feedback and support I'm getting from y'all to pump out a few stories. Perfect time to say thank you for over 200 followers, the feedback in likes and obviously the nice comments. Thank you all <3 I kinda wanna do more parts to Oblivious Idiot because in my head it could be fun with at least another part. MDNI if you do, that's not my problem what you consume. content/warning: slut shaming, reader dresses feminine, slightly uncomfortable reminder of past, fingering, rutting against pillow. I hope I got everything if not I'm sry. 1.4k words

Rage bubbled underneath your skin, as you stalked down the sidewalk with quick and heavy strikes. You kept your head down, as your blood boiled like a volcano ready to erupt, and you didn’t want to be punching a stranger for looking at you funny by the way you dress.

Not after what happened not even fifteen minutes ago, what was the sore reason why you were so mad. You always wore clothes that others would describe as feminine, yet to you it were simply clothes that you found good looking on yourself. Clothes don’t define gender, so until you reached high school your clothing style would switch between ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’, yet some boys and girls found it strange, even putting their opinions openly out, which you wouldn’t have minded if they wouldn’t straight up insult you. 

As you stopped in front of the apartment complex, in which you lived together with your childhood ‘best friend’, you couldn’t help the grinding of your teeth, as you looked through the bag you had by your side for your teeth. Fiddling with the mess of keys, until you found the right one had you swallowing hard, until you pushed the door to the complex open and quickly skipped up the stairs to the third floor, not in the mood to wait for the elevator. When you reached your floor, your legs were aching, yet you pushed forward, especially now that you were so close to your own four walls. 

When the white doors to your shared apartment finally opened with another key, you didn’t waste another minute in the hallway, before rushing in and closing the door rather harshly, which definitely caught the attention of your fellow roommate, Zachary, who was surprised by your way too early and angry person dashing past the living room, only to hear a loud bang, of the doors to your room shutting.

Quickly kicking your shoes off, before letting your bag fall beside them. Making a bee-line to your bed, you dropped on the soft mattress with a heavy sigh sprawled out on your stomach. You sniffed and wiped your tears of anger and frustration away, when a knock sounded at your door. “Hey.. can I come in?” the calm yet concerned muffled voice of Zachary was like balm on your rippling emotions

You gave a short answer, and shortly after the door opened and the mattress sunk slightly by the added weight and a warm hand placed on your upper back. At first you were reluctant to lift your head, to show your roommate, your best friend, your goddamn crush, the mess you were emotionally, but the soothing caress on your back and the calming hums of a unknown melody made you rest your head on your arms, exposing your slightly puffy eyes. 

“What happened that got you so fired up?” Zachary asked, and obviously he couldn’t know, yet thinking to what happened made you clench your hands into fists as you glared at the blanket, “Ask your friend–” you sat up, feeling how his warm palm left your back, as you stared in his honey brown eyes, “Ask your himbo of a teammate, Aaron–” you cut yourself off as your teeth digged into you lower lip. 

Your blunt nails digged into your palms, as you swallowed hard trying to steady your breath before you continued, “He thought it would be funny to ask me– how much I take for an hour,” 

Never in your life did you experience this, odd looks or a few comments that never reached this degree. 

Biting your lip at the silence, you looked back at Zachary, after you had looked away while grounding yourself. The look in Zachary’s eyes was one you would describe as murderous, you never saw him this angry before. You watched with big eyes as the other suddenly stood up, “I’ll talk with him and take care of this,” his usual soft demeanor was cracked yet he gave you a tender kiss on your forehead before he stormed out of your room. You only heard him picking up his keys before the front door opened and quickly shut.

Now you were alone in the apartment, pursing your lips you slowly got up and walked out of your room, walking into the one across from yours. As you stood in Zachary’s room, you couldn’t help but take in the scent that lingered inside the room, but your attention was quickly on the bed on which you threw yourself. You simply wanted a hug, yet Zachary seemed to be blinded by anger that it even surprised you, unable to even utter your request of a comforting hug.

You buried your nose in the pillow, hugging it close to your chest. Sighing as your mood seemed to lighten by simply being in Zachary’s room. Yet you couldn’t help the pout forming on your face, Zachary was oblivious to your feelings that you harbor since you weren’t even sure when you started to feel different towards your best friend. It also didn’t help that you were always so close with him, living together and when you guys were younger you lived across the street from each other.

As you steered your mind even further into more peaceful waters, you couldn’t help but be reminded of the lingering touches, sending excitement down your spine into your dick. Your breath hitched as you started to rub yourself against the blanket, the white underwear slowly forming a wet spot from your precum, as from today you wore a simple skirt that reached the middle of your thighs. 

Slowly you let out breathy moans, the pillow that you hugged only a minute ago was now between your plush thighs as you rutted your hips into the cushion, the friction sent shivers down your spine. But deep down you wished it was something else giving you pleasure, someone. The wet spot on your panties got larger and larger yet your orgasm seemed still so far away.

Taking three of your fingers in your mouth, you sucked and licked them until they were wet enough, before you pulled your panties to the side and quickly pushed two digits in, a moan left your throat as your head bobbed back in pleasure, your eyes closed as you imagined that instead of your fingers it were the thick and long ones of Zachary. 

As you pushed your third finger in, you remembered the time where you were accidentally flashed by Zachary, the image of his hard cock burned into your mind, you two never spoke about it, but right now you wished you did. Whines left you as you fingered your hole in a frenzy brushing against your prostate, making you whimper in frustration, yet the stimulation on your weeping cock, helped you getting closer to your sweet relief, all the while shameless moans left you.

“R-right there Zac– fuck yes.. Ahh–” a choked moan left you, “fuck me, please–” your mind was blinded by lust, the coiling in your groin as you were on the edge of your orgasm, “My oh my– what a naughty boy,” you brushed against your prostate as shock paralyzed you for a second, before your head snapped to the door. 

There he stood, breathing heavy while his fists were clenched, yet when your eyes collided with darkened eyes, something about that look pushed you over the edge, making your spurt white ropes of cum, soiling your panties and the bed, while a choked “Zachary,” left your lips, your back arched slightly and your brows furrowed slightly.

While your mind was in a state of bliss and panic, the other took slow steps inside his room, eyes solely on you, “I found it actually nicer when you moaned my nickname that you used to love to call me by,” his words were dripping with what you would describe as lust. You couldn’t hold eye contact for long, when your gaze dropped you spotted the bleeding knuckles. A gasp left your lips, you reached your hand out, before pulling it back as it was the exact hand that you used to finger your ass. Also because you weren’t sure by the way he clenched his fists you would be the next to have these in your face.

“What happened?” you decided to simply ask, glancing up at the honey brown eyes. Zachary raised one eyebrow at the lack of actions you would’ve usually shown, he couldn’t help but frown but he did also notice your tense shoulders, while you obviously also tried to move on from what he caught you doing. 

But he wouldn’t be mean, and simply indulge in your attempt, “He had it coming– after all nobody gets to shame you and come out scott free.”

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 13

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: sexual language & content (smut), hoops written by lila, kiran being clueless, language Wordcount: 11.5K (told y'all this was long) A/C: ty SOME OF YOU for being patient (the ones begging for a chapter 24/7... go touch grass), this chapter is SO LONG but it's what y'all wanted so buckle up!! ily guys i know most of you are respectful, once again i love reading y'all's thoughts so send them to my inbox :)) have fun reading this and sorry for the basketball content and if it doesn't make sense, in my head it did ok (also ty @thaatdigitaldiary for making sure the hoops made sense <33 ily)

-

Before London

The early morning rays of sun penetrate through the slight gap between my curtains, hitting my eyes in a way that makes me stir. My eyelids feel heavy, as my nose nuzzles the soft silk of the pillowcase underneath my head. I’m still half asleep when I hear faint snoring and steady breathing behind my back. Letting it guide me to consciousness, I focus on the gentle rumbling, the weight of a warm arm wrapped tightly around my waist. My hand is gripping on this very arm, holding it tight and flush against my exposed midriff. As I wake from my slumber, finally fluttering my eyes open I feel the heat of someone’s presence tingling against my back, pressing into my shoulders, the curve of my butt. My heart flutters.

Entangling our legs carefully, I turn around to find Paige, lips parted and face smashed against the pillow, rounding her cheek. The soft snores joint with the AC humming offer a steady lull, making part of me want to close my eyes and doze off again. But I can’t bear to look away. Paige’s long, dark eyelashes are pressed against her tan face, blonde strands falling over her eyes in her sleep. I reach over carefully brushing them back to see more of her, careful not to disturb her. I had never slept in her arms before. Sure, we had slept next to each other on some occasions, but I always made sure to turn around and take my space. 

I didn’t do it to be mean or cruel. Matter of fact it felt more cruel towards myself, because every fibre of my existence ached to curl up next to her and lie on her chest. I had never wanted to be close to someone so bad it hurt. Until now.

But I was terrified of getting used to her, her proximity, the warmth of her body in my bed. I couldn’t bear another heartache. I was still utterly fucked up from the last one, I knew it started with letting myself get used to sleeping in her arms which would lead to daily ‘good morning’ texts which would lead to me falling deeper, head over heels for her. I feared getting used to her presence, her affection. Because it would mean I’d start needing it.

But something in me last night didn’t care. Perhaps it was the way she had helped me all night, cleared up plates, made small talk with the guests effortlessly, anticipated all my needs, grew closer with my brother, I’m not sure what. But something had me backing myself into her as I lied on my side, somewhere between sleep and consciousness. She didn’t force anything, didn’t move an inch. But the moment she felt me scooching over her arm was ready to wrap around me. And I grabbed hold of it tightly, clinging to her all night.

I admire her beauty, her sharp nose and soft pink lips, faint lines on her forehead, the star-shaped pimple patch on her cheek. I don’t even realise that I’m smiling, or that the blonde is awake before she smiles too, blinking her tired eyes open.

“You’re staring,” she says hoarsely, voice raspy and rough from sleep.

“No I’m not,” I feebly defend myself, my fingertip tracing along the blonde’s jawline and neck, down to her arm. Paige hums contentedly, wrapping that very arm around my waist and pulling me flush to her warm body. I let her, scratching up and down her shoulder and bicep in a soothing manner.

Her blue eyes watch my sleepy face, our noses nearly brushing as our gazes meet. Her glare has always been intense, but it seems more so at this moment.

“Good mornin’ mama,” she murmurs sleepily. I blush at the nickname, shutting my eyes from the intensity of her stare that’s sending goosebumps up and down my body.

“Good morning love.”

A comforting silence falls upon us, as we slowly allow our minds to wake up.

“I think Rike and Lala know,” Paige says softly, her eyes shut now too as my nails drag up and down her bare back.

“I know,” I chuckle in a gentle way. “Lou too.”

“They not gon’ tell nobody, y’know.”

“I know,” I hum, knowing it was the truth. I suspected Lala had known for longer than me and Paige even have. I stir a little on my side, a familiar tension in my shoulder.

“You okay?” The blonde asks, pulling back the slightest bit. “‘M sorry, I get really warm when I sleep.”

I chuckle, shaking my head, “no, it’s my shoulder.”

“You need to see a massage therapist.”

I grimace, shaking my head, trying to find a comfortable position. “I don’t like strangers touching me.”

“C’mon, c’mere,” Paige coos, maneuvering me with ease so I’m lying on my stomach, most of my weight on her as my leg wraps around her waist. Her hand rubs up and down my back comfortingly, soothing the ache. “Better?”

“Better,” I repeat, chills spreading everywhere. In my tired and blissful haze, I wrap my hand around her chest and kiss her shoulder tenderly as a thank you.

“You need better curtains, it’s so bright,” the blonde groans, throwing a dramatic arm over her face.

“No it’s not,” I giggle. “There’s barely any light coming in. Besides, it’s morning.”

“Too much light, goin’ blind.”

 I reach my hands up over the girl’s face, covering her eyes with my palms. “There. Dark. You happy now?”

“Stoppp,” she whines, grabbing my wrists harshly and pulling them away from her. We both laugh sleepily, Paige pressing a gentle kiss on top of my head, smoothing over my wild locks.

“You ready for this game against the Storms tomorrow?” I ask gently, knowing games had become a sensitive subject for the blonde. She shifts, inhaling heavily before answering.

“I’m hyped I guess, wish Nika was comin’,” she says and hesitates. “Can’t wait to play against her next season, God willing.”

I smile, glad to see she’s thinking positively. Paige kept her feelings inside, but I knew the off start to the season was bothering her much more than she was willing to admit. Quickly, talks of Rookie of The Season had shifted from the blonde to Olivia Miles, and the media discourse hadn’t been helping Paige’s confidence. 

“Is this the end of the great Paige Buckets? Her rookie season has been disappointing to say the least. She seems to be distracted and in her head, missing threes and middies she used to hit with ease. Many people speculate that Geno Auriemma’s coaching is to bl-” blared from my phone just yesterday as I opened TikTok. It made me want to throw the device onto the ground, but the most I could do was to report the video. If I got content like that on my page, I couldn’t even imagine what the blonde saw on her’s.

“Uh- So what’s the plan for breakfast?” Paige asks, eager to change the subject. I catch onto the hint and let her - knowing that pushing it right now wouldn’t be smart.

“The schedule says blueberry pancakes,” I murmur. The blonde smiles, blue eyes flickering to my face on her chest.

“You memorise it?”

“Course I do,” I scoff. Something about this sets the girl off, pearls of gentle chuckles filling the room as she wraps her arms around me and squeezes tight. I giggle too, feeling her lift me on top of her. As she does the door handle makes a sound and before I know it, a shirtless Kiran is stepping into the bedroom.

“Morni- Oh, whoa.”

I’m lying flat on top of Paige, whose arms are wrapped tightly around my waist under the covers. The blonde quickly pulls the blanket upwards, covering both of us up to our shoulders. It was already an incriminating scene, but even worse would be if he realised the lack of clothes on us from last night’s activities.

Kiran’s eyes are wide, brows raised as he looks over at us. I rummage my mind for an excuse, any sorry reason I’m on top of the blonde in bed. He blinks for a while, as if resetting his brain. But he doesn’t say a word.

“I- Paige was cold,” I murmur in a panic. The blonde nods, pulling the blanket tighter around us.

“I really was, been freezin’ my ass off all night.” Her voice is so genuine and confident even I nearly believe it.

Kiran keeps looking at us, cheeks reddening slightly at the sight. “I was just wondering how, uh, how to use the coffee machine.”

“I’ll come help,” I mumble, about to climb out when Paige pulls me flush against her. It’s then I remember I’m nearly completely naked.

“No!” She yelps, rolling me over to my back, throwing the covers over my body. “I’mma go, you rest mama, had a long night last night,” she smiles, patting my hip carefully. Thankfully the sports bra and basketball shorts on her had stayed on last night. She grabs a hoodie off the ground, throwing it on casually.

Kiran, still red in the face, is processing (now on top of everything, the nickname too). The blonde grabs him by the shoulder to turn him around, walking him out of the room. Flipping over, I groan into the pillow, embarrassed. My ears burn and my heart is pounding, trying to find a way to make sense of this to Kiran without exposing the truth to him. 

Throwing on Paige’s shirt from last night, I button it up lazily. But as my hand wraps around the door handle, I realise this probably was the worst possible choice of clothing to walk out in after… that. Cursing internally at my brother who never knew how to knock, I undress and dress again in a pair of leggings and a sports bra, both dark brown and matching.

I exhale deeply before stepping out, prepared to stay composed no matter how flustered I felt. However, I’m surprised to find Paige and Kiran laughing together in the kitchen, making blueberry pancakes and talking about video games - something I never understood.

“Well good morning,” Kiran smiles, mixing the batter. Paige, tired but gleaming with quiet joy, gets up from leaning against the wrap-around island, handing me a large cup of coffee.

“Mm mornin’,” she says with a lopsided smile, fingers rubbing my forearm behind my brother’s back.

“Good morning,” I say, still a little flustered, turning towards him. “Uh, Kiran, so that was probably quite strange to walk into, I just-”

“Oh no, don’t worry. I know how girls are,” he chuckles, and seems to genuinely mean it. I glance at Paige who nods, covering the lower part of her face, hiding the smile that’s forming.

“Sure,” I mumble confused.

“You know, girl stuff,” Kiran adds as the blonde grabs a pan from the bottom drawer, placing it on the stove with a sly smile.

“Right, girl stuff,” I chuckle, shaking my head in disbelief behind my brother’s back. At this point I was beginning to question his intelligence. I was also concerned about what he thinks girls do behind closed doors. Standing beside Paige, sipping my coffee, I feel her hand run down my lower back to my ass, copping a feel just for a second while Kiran’s back is facing us. Giggling silently, I push her hand away, the sneaky touch leaving my skin tingling.

-

Unsurprisingly, keeping my hands off Izara felt impossible. I knew it would be a challenge, it always was. But at least usually I knew the moment we got home we’d get the chance to do what we’d been craving all day. I had completely taken it for granted. Because now with Kiran constantly around, my hands were subconsciously itching to touch his sister’s arm here, or waist there. To wrap my arm around her and kiss the side of her head. Keeping my hands busy had felt like torture. So I was grateful for the controller in my hands, just to have something to keep them to myself.

“Wh- How are you this good? I’m fucked,” Kiran groans, Fortnite blasting on the TV. He’s leaning back on the leather armchair, rubbing his jaw annoyed. Poor guy wasn’t doing too good. Izzie’s curled up on the corner of my couch with a book in her hand - a sight I’d gotten selfishly used to, trying to remember not to take it for granted like I had the touches and kisses.

“We played a lot with my girls back in Uconn,” I grin, leaning forward in concentration and resting my elbows on my knees, manspreading enough so my skin tingles against the girl beside me. “Back in the good ole days.”

Kiran laughs. “You don’t like it in Dallas?”

I contemplate, long fingers sliding over the controller. I guess that’s how I felt at first, and then again when me and Iz weren’t talking. But whenever she was in my life, the whole city seemed brighter, more vibrant. Especially now. As my eyes glance around the living room for the first time I realise this is my home. I could tell by the framed UConn jersey on my wall, surrounded by posters of my favourite players, the Lego Air Jordan decorating the TV stand, my Bible sitting on the coffee table next to the GQ, the decorative pillows Izzie helped me choose - oh and the girl next to me. Without even noticing, somewhere down the line, Dallas had become my home.

“Was thinkin’ I never would,” I tell Kiran, chewing on my lower lip to concentrate on the game. “But it’s lookin up.” I glance at Izara next to me, absentmindedly scrunching her face as she reads over the page. She always looked so beautiful like that, when she was really using her beautiful mind and having to focus.

The beautiful sight is interrupted, however, by the ringing of Izara’s phone. The girl lifts her head up, reaching for it and sighs.

“It’s Trey, must be work,” she murmurs, leaving the room in a hurry to lock herself into my bedroom. I roll my eyes in annoyance, feeling jealousy simmering somewhere in my stomach. I miss a shot but barely notice, eyeing the bedroom door. To my surprise, Kiran scoffs.

“Slimy guy,” he says.

“Tell me about it,” I reply, grip so tight on the white controller my knuckles turn pale.

“You get bad energy from him too?”

I lean back on the couch, fully aware my t-shirt was hiking up, showing some of my boxers underneath the basketball shorts I had on. “Never liked him,” I chuckle bitterly, feeling some sort of enjoyment as if Kiran was justifying my hatred. It felt satisfying knowing someone was on my side, finally.

“He just wants to shag Izzie so bad, it’s so obvious,” Kiran shakes his head, finally giving up and letting the controller fall off his hand to his lap. “The entire dinner party he was trying to suck up to me, I swear.”

“I saw,” I huff. “He loves to kiss ass, especially Izzie’s.”

“Izzie won’t believe that he likes her.”

I kiss my teeth, finally exiting the game, too engaged in the conversation. I always would be if it meant I got to talk shit about Trey. “Bro I know, I tried tellin’ her.”

Kiran shakes his head, looking at me from the leather chair. “She just has bad judgement with men. Like with her ex too.”

“Jasper?” I ask, reaching my hands up to fix the low messy bun my hair is in.

“Yup,” he nods. “What an asshole that one, a complete nonce. I saw it the minute I met him. Tried to warn her, but you know how she is.”

Yes I did. “Stubborn as hell,” I grin. Kiran looks at me knowingly.

“I just wish I was here to look after her.”

“I’ve been lookin after her,” I say without hesitation. The younger boy looks at me, eyes softening.

“She’s changed a lot,” he mumbles. “In a good way. She seems more… at peace, joyful even.” He laughs. “Wow, never thought I’d be calling my big sister joyful.”

I smile and maybe it was narcissistic of me to think so but I hoped that at least some of that was my doing. I could tell the difference from when she first arrived and now - like night and day. I adored her both ways.

“She was always serious, even as a child,” Kiran starts, smiling to himself. “One time she forgot to do her homework, she must have been like seven, and she beat herself up so bad over it and put these pink sticky notes everywhere around the house, reminding her to do her homework. Mind you, she had never forgotten to do it before. That lasted for many many months.”

I laugh, my heart fluttering at the idea of little Izara and her dramatic little gestures, sticking notes on doors and walls and mirrors.

“Our mum hated those notes, would try to tell her that one was enough but everytime she took them down they were up the next day.”

“That sounds like Iz,” I laugh. “She still lowkey that dramatic.” My face falls, glancing towards the bedroom. The door is still closed. Phew.

Kiran nods, chuckling. “Better not let her hear that,” he grins. “She’s strict. Just like mum.”

“Oh, I know,” I laugh. The times I’d gotten in trouble with that girl. I loved it though, she kept me grounded. She was exactly the type of person I could see myself with for a long, long time.

“When we were kids she was so strict about rules too. One time our granny tried to give us sweets before lunch and she told mum. She kept saying “granny broke the rules”. It was hilarious,” he smiles. “Well, not in the moment because I’d eaten the sweets and she told on me too.”

“Oh trust, it’s strict over here too. One time I got her to get ice cream with me before dinner but it took like, an hour of convincing,” I grin, playing with the ring on my thumb.

“That’s Izzie alright,” Kiran smiles. “The only person I ever saw her bend the rules for was this boy she had a crush on as a kid. Was the funniest thing, she would just walk around yanking his sleeves and if that wasn’t enough to get him to notice her, she’d just pull on the hood of his coat.”

I think for a while, warmth spreading all over my body as I listen to Kiran’s stories. “Well she don’t bend no rules for me.”

The boy looks at me for a while before shrugging and grabbing the controller up from his lap. “Another round then?”

-

“Look at my girl!” Lala grins, taking hurried steps in her strappy heels when she sees me. 

“Hey Lala,” I chuckle, wrapping my arms around her to greet the girl. Even with my heels on she was still much taller than me. Our voices echo around the players’ corridors, loud chatter of the girls, especially Arike’s, coming through the closed door behind us where the team was getting ready, hyping each other up.

“You’ll go sit with Kiran right?” I ask, worried I had to abandon my brother who was sitting amongst the crowd all alone - he wasn’t allowed back here.

“Of course, I’ll take care of your baby brother, don’t you worry girl,” the older woman smiles, smoothing over the cropped baby t-shirt and denim skirt I’m wearing. “This is so cute, I’m not used to seeing you so dressed down.”

I chuckle awkwardly, fixing my straightened hair. “You don’t like it?”

“No I love it, pretty girl,” she smiles comfortingly, raising her brow just a little. “I can see some… Paige's influence.”

“Oh, yeah she helped me pick,” I smile bashfully, knowing Lala knew exactly what me and Paige had been up to. There was no reason to say it out loud though.

“She good to you?” She asks, voice lowering just for me to hear. “Because if she’s not you know who to call.”

“She’s perfectly good,” I giggle, my cheeks heating up. 

“Who is?”

I know who it is before I turn, that voice at this point burnt into my brain, engraved into me like a tattoo.

“Mind your business,” Lala laughs, wrapping an arm around Arike who emerges from behind Paige. I laugh, feeling the blondes hands hold my waist as she spins me around, to see all of my fit. My body tenses, breath hitches as a natural reaction to her touch. It was impossible to keep my feelings beneath the surface.

“I knew this fit was gon’ be fire. You look fine mama,” she grins, eyeing me up and down. My knees nearly give in.

“Thank you,” I giggle, all desire to hide what’s going on between us disappearing in front of the engaged couple. Who cares, they already knew. I turn to Paige with watchful eyes, her face softening the moment we make eye contact. I loved the way she looked in her jersey, how broad her shoulders seemed, how well the black contrasted her pale skin. I could never get sick of looking at her, though I’d never tell her this. 

Not just anyone could’ve told Paige was nervous - but I saw it written all over her. The picking of her cuticles, the smiles she offered others that fell off her face much too quickly, the way she was shifting her weight back and forth, looking around for any distraction from her growing nerves. I had become an expert at reading her.

“Did you watch the new Love Island episode?” I ask the taller girl, elbowing her gently, offering a distraction. Her skin is sticky from the warm-ups earlier.

Paige looks around for a while before even realising she’s being spoken to. “Uhh, nah, didn’t have time,” she murmurs, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

“Five minutes ladies,” one of the assistant coaches yells. The girl beside me exhales heavily, and it was enough for me to know what she was thinking about. The late night discussions we’d had about Olivia Miles, the guilt Paige felt over the jealousy eating away at her. All current projections were showing Miles to be the Rookie of The Year and now she had to play against her, like some personal battle they were fighting. More than just Wings vs Storm. I tried to remind the blonde it was still early, and even Clark had her issues in the beginning. It was bound to happen. I’m not sure if this helped or made it worse for Paige.

“Heyyy, my favourite team!” Trey beams, approaching all of us gathered in the corridors, making our way towards the court. Immediately Paige’s jaw flexes, and I can tell the man’s presence was not appreciated at this moment.

“Shh,” I tell Trey sternly. “Let them get focused,” I shoo him away, hoping this will help the blonde’s nerves. No pep talks, or reassurance, or encouragement had worked before. I had been nothing but sweet and caring and gentle, but it seemed to have no effect on her game. So I decide to change tactics - she was coached by Geno after all. Gentle words might not be what she needs.

As we stand in the dark tunnel with the team, I face Paige, watching the nervous tapping of her hand on her thigh. 

“Stop, look at me.”

Without hesitation, her blue eyes flicker to mine, my hand holding her wrist still.

“You’re more than these people say about you, who gives a shit about Olivia Miles? You bust your ass every single day, and for what? Just to give up the crown that easily? I don’t think so, you’ve gone through way worse,” I tell her sternly, my voice quiet but authoritative in the low chatter filling the tunnel. “You’re not here to entertain, you’re not here to let the media use you as a joke, fuck that. Stop playing scared. Stop playing small. If you screw up at least screw up big, keep looking for your shot even if you can’t get a single one in. You’ve got something to prove Paige. Not to me, not to the fans or the haters but to yourself. Remind yourself who you are.”

She stares at me, face blank as she internalises my words. 

“Okay girls, let’s go.”

The team begins to head towards the court, but Paige stands still for a second before glancing up, her teammates far gone.

“Wait,” I murmur, my hands reaching for the hem of her jersey and tucking the fabric into her shorts, all around her waist from the back to the front. “Okay, you can go.”

-

The crowd roars for yet another layup for Gabby, but I barely hear them. It’s as if the crowd is closing in, my ears ringing due to their screaming. I missed both my jumpers, already getting me back into the mindset I had been in the entire season. I’m not good enough, I peaked in college, I wasn’t the player I used to be. On top of everything she is like a pest, constantly on me.

Sweat drips down my back, the jersey that still felt like a stranger’s clinging to me. Olivia is bringing the ball up the court, eyeing for options. We’re face to face, my hands active to find any moment for a stop. She had been on fire all night, the first half of the game gone much like the media expected. Olivia was hot with 16 points, me? A hard earned six, though the five assists were making me feel a little better. Still not confident in the way I used to be.

Miles glances to the side, looking for help from beyond the arc. Everyone’s locked down. Suddenly our eyes meet. I see it. I feel it. She explodes. Her shoulder brushes against mine as she speeds towards the freethrow line. I follow with fast feet and fast hands, matching her steps, staying locked in. No way she was getting this one. 

But I’m not fast enough. She hits me with a quick and nasty hesitation move, then snatching back. I stumble, nearly crashing to the ground. By the time I recover, the ball has already left her fingertips. An “ooh” from the ground and a swish. Easy two.

“That’s rookie of the year for you,” she yells at me as her teammates surround her.

She waves at the crowd to get louder, glowing with an ease I couldn’t have felt more jealous over. An ease I used to have. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Not to me. My jaw flexes and I grind my teeth together, trying to keep my composure the UConn way. She jogs past me, shooting me a smile that says “you got nothin’ on me”. The pounding in my head grows with the noise of the crowd. It’s as if they’re all mocking me, reminding me of who I used to be.

“C’mon P,” Arike screams, patting my butt as she jogs by. I glance to the sidelines, my eyes finding the dark haired girl standing by the team, clasping her hands and furrowing her brows. On top of everything now I was disappointing her too. 

-

“Fuck!” I scream, hitting the cubby as we walk into the dressing room. My anger had been growing exponentially the last few minutes of the first half, but the almost lazy deep three by Miles right in my face had been the cherry on top. It kept playing over and over in my head, the late hand, the way the crowd got on their feet and roared. My face is burning as I throw the towel over my head and groan.

“I need a minute,” I hiss, pushing out of the room as my team rolls in, past Satou and Lou into the tunnel. I rub the bridge of my nose vigorously, leaning my sweaty back against the cool tile of the walls. The whole room was spinning, all my frustration accumulated along the season peaking - all of it directed at Miles. I couldn’t handle having to face the fact it was my own doing. Blaming someone else was so much easier.

“Paige,” Iz sighs, the tapping of her heels echoing around the tunnel. I remain quiet, focusing on the ringing and pounding in my head.

“Paige,” she repeats, more sternly. I open my eyes to find her standing in front of me, looking serious as ever.

“God dammit,” I complain, sliding against the wall onto the floor, my legs bent at the knees as I lean my elbows against them.

“Get up, c’mon,” Izzie mumbles, pulling onto my forearm but with not much success. So instead she sits on the cold floor in front of me, her hands rubbing on my bare calves, not caring that they were dripping with sweat.

“What do I have to say to get you out of your head?” She asks, green eyes roaming my face. I could feel anger, frustration bubbling right underneath.

“I dunno,” I mumble. I felt imprisoned in my mind, stuck in a cage without a way out, locked in without a key. 

“Think!” She scoffs, pushing on my arm. My chest heaves as I take deep breaths, rummaging my mind for anything. “What did you do at UConn when you got in your head?”

I chuckle bitterly. “I didn’t have time to, Geno was too quick to get on my ass.”

Izzie looks at me, raising her brows. “Okay, and what would Geno say now?”

He would cuss me out, first of all. Telling me he’s never seen a person play this shit in his life. That I’m the worst person he’s ever coached, that I think I know better even though I don’t know anything. That I might as well stop playing and be benched for the rest of the season because it seems I don’t want it bad enough. That Miles wants it more than I do and that’s why she’s winning. That I’ve gotten lazy, weak. Acting like I don’t even care.

I feel a fire in the pit of my stomach, just a wavering flame now. But it’s reminiscent of something I felt what seemed like a long time ago. In March. The sense of urgency. It’s right there, it’s been there the entire time. I thought it was gone for good.

“Bueckers, inside,” Chris says as he enters the tunnel, pointing at the door. I don’t have the time or sense to say a word to Izzie as I help her off the ground. But before I turn she squeezes my arm encouragingly.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself, time to wake up P. This isn’t her court, it’s yours.”

-

The gentle flame was growing, stirring within me now. Beginning of the third quarter had the crowd buzzing with newfound energy, I could feel it echoing around the court, bouncing off the walls, onto me. Time to stop feeling sorry for yourself. Remember who you are. This is my court. My team. I want this more than she does.

I’m face to face with Miles again as I bring the ball up the court, seeing Satou and Arike prepared for any play that I would run. I dribble the ball between my legs thinking for the smartest move, the game like a chess match in my head, when I realise I’ve got a checkmate right here.

I fake trying to push past Miles, who takes steps back accordingly. Before she has time to catch up to what I’m doing, I step back beyond the arc and get settled, letting the ball fly. I had done this a thousand times before. Please God, give it back to me.

Swish.

“Bueckers with a stepback three, and… It’s good!”

The crowd rises to its feet, cheering for my first made three in the last six games. I don’t celebrate, the UConn discipline still running blue in my veins. But Arike grins, tapping my butt when she runs past. I feel a wave of relief, looking up in a silent prayer of gratitude.

The jealousy and anger I felt towards Miles quickly turned to a newfound fire, making use of my aggression in defence. I’m quick, keeping up with her like a pest. She’s nearly completely locked down, having no other choice but to pass the ball over and over again. 

“Another steal for Bueckers, her third of the quarter. She is hot right now. Haven't seen her like this all season.”

I finish with an easy layup, Storm’s defense was not fast enough to catch up. Satou laughs, squeezing my shoulders.

“That’s our rookie!” She exclaims, and I finally allow myself a smile. I can tell Olivia’s getting frustrated as a timeout is called, walking to the bench looking down, rubbing her sweaty face. I’m back, baby.

“Bueckers scored 12 in that quarter alone, it’s looking up for her. If she keeps this up this might be her first 20 point game of the season. Something we’re used to seeing from Bueckers in college but have been waiting patiently for in the league.”

The fourth has her getting desperate, frustrated. I can see it in her eyes, even the way she’s moving with the ball. Hectic, messy. I hope Geno’s watching the game. He’d give me a tap on the shoulder now. I got Olivia Miles stressing.

Her desperate shot at a three is disrupted by my quick hand, hitting the board. Before I can even think about boxing anyone out, Arike is catching the rebound, eyes on me. It’s all I need to know what to do.

I run up the court, Miles right behind me. But I’m faster, catching the long pass from Arike. As I jump into the air for the fast layup, Miles’ body crashes into mine, both of us tumbling to the ground. My eyes remain on the ball, the adrenaline in my body making the collision that would surely bruise my shoulder feel like a playful poke. As the ball falls through the net for the finish, I hear a whistle. And one.

The crowd cheers, the team in the Wings jerseys running to me to help me up. I laugh on the ground as Miles curses, her teammates holding her back to cool her down. As I rise, Arike chest bumps me, screaming something I barely hear into my ear, too focused on watching Miles shake her team off, stomping to the refs to complain about the whistle.

“Fuck is you talkin’ bout!” I yell at Miles, to rile her up even further. Our eyes meet, her nostrils flared with frustration. My chest heaves and my body burns with confidence and a fire as I make my way to the freethrow line. I had finally arrived in Dallas. 

“Shot Clock off, ball with the Wings.”

I glance at the score, 78-80. I just need a two pointer, maybe a middie would be the best bet. I thread the ball between my legs, Miles right where she had been the entire game. In my face. She’s focused now, using her anger as fuel. I know there’s a better option than me to take this shot. Yeah I’d been hot, but I wasn’t reliable this season. I pass the ball to Arike, setting a screen for a three. But she won’t take it, passing the ball into the paint to Satou. Gabby got her way too locked down. I move to the weakside corner beyond the arc, as Satou draws in defence by working the paint, instead passing the ball to now open Arike. Defence follows, just a tiny bit too slow. But she won’t shoot it.

Arike glances at me, gets settled to draw in more of the defence leaving me completely open. Instead she passes the ball to me, her eyes locked onto my face. Expression full of confidence, telling me she believes in me. She could have shot the game-winning three, but she knew it was me who needed this win. Not her. Not the rest of the team. Me.

I let the ball fly, blue eyes following as it glides in the air. Olivia jumps, but just a little too late, stumbling as she hits the ground. It feels as if the arena is silent, the only sound is the pounding in my head as the ball comes down. Swish.

I’m not even sure what’s happening when my teammates crash into me, shoving and pushing on me hard enough to leave bruises. But I don’t care, a smile so wide on my face my cheeks begin to hurt. The crowd is on its feet, jumping up and down as I begin to jog around the court, like some sort of victory lap. In a way it sort of was.

My eyes find our bench, Chris smiling widely at me. But my gaze eventually lands on Izzie who’s jumping up and down, telling Trey to keep the camera on me. Her face is sparkling with pride and glee, the aggression and fire still in flames inside me. 

“Paige!” A reporter stops me, as I try to catch my breath, smiling with joy. “Paige, 27 points, 10 assists. Your first 20 point game of the season. First double-double of the season. Great game from you overall, how do you feel right now?”

I grin at the camera, squeezing my eyes shut from how wide my lips are spreading. “‘Bout time,” I laugh, wiping the sweat off my neck.

-

“Paige, where are we going?” I whisper as the blonde drags me by my wrist into the very familiar storage room. She wasn’t talking. Matter of fact she hadn’t said a word, gripping my arm tightly the second we entered the tunnel and pulling me away from everyone. Her fingertips were pressing tightly enough to leave a bruise, as she closes the door behind us, turning on the fluorescent light.

“Paige, you were unbelievable, I know you co-” but I’m interrupted by a starved, harsh kiss. Teeth colliding as she grabs my dark hair tenaciously, pulling on it to maneuver my movements. Her other hand finds the hem of my baby tee with ease, pulling it up to reveal the see through lace bra underneath. Suddenly my body turns to putty, knees trembling at the force which with the blonde is kissing me. Taking control in a way I wasn’t accustomed to. Just like she had of her game on the court.

“P-paige,” I gasp as her lips kiss sloppily around my jaw, getting saliva all over my face and neck. “You’ve got press soon,” I remind her, my voice weak and shaky, already a puddle between my thighs as the girl holds me, lips working me with ease.

“Shut up,” she says, a strange authoritative tone in her voice. I pull back, glancing up at her.

“Excuse me.”

But Paige grabs my jaw, eyeing me underneath her heavy lids in a way that makes me feel small. Not the one in control.

“Shut the fuck up Iz,” she hisses, pushing me harshly into the wall behind me. My breathing grows ragged, the blonde’s lips back on my neck, sucking desperately. The room is spinning, and I’m getting overwhelmingly wet at Paige’s newfound dominance. 

“You think you can just wear a skirt like this and I won’t fuck you? Nah, you’re a smart girl. You knew whatchu were doin’.” She murmurs into my ear, grabbing my thighs. There are chills running up and down my body, driving me wild.

“Paige,” I mumble, not sure what for as she pulls my shirt off, unbuckling my bra. My cheeks turn red, overwhelmed by the way she’s handling me.

“Need to see these tits,” she groans, pulling back to eye them. I feel a little unsure under the bright, unforgiving light but the look the blonde gets on her face quickly reassures me.

“Goddamn, you’re so sexy,” she moans and latches onto my nipple, her plump lips sucking on it. I bring my hands to her hair, but she grabs onto my wrists and pushes them against the cool wall. I gasp at her aggressiveness.

“But the lights,” I mumble, feeling my thighs burn as if on fire.

“Baby, you gotta keep your pretty mouth shut and lemme fuck you.”

Suddenly her fingertips are pushing against my thigh, forcing the denim skirt to ride up all the way to my waist. Her hand travels straight to my core, rubbing the fabric of my panties along the slit with her thumb. It’s no shock to me when the satin grows wet in a matter of seconds, my cunt already crying out for the blonde. A desperate whine leaves my mouth as I bite my lower lip, trying not to worry about the press conference that would be starting in a matter of minutes.

“Such a slut,” Paige hisses, kissing my breasts. I’m nearly offended, but for some reason her words were making me want her even more, making me more desperate. I had never been talked to like that before. I could feel my body submitting to her.

I’m too dumbfounded to answer when she spins me around with rough hands, pressing my front into the cold tile of the wall, hand gripping my hair to yank my head back. “Answer me. You’re a slut huh? Wantin’ me to fuck you so bad couldn’t even wait till we got home?”

“Paige,” my voice is breathy, trembling badly. She’s right of course, but my ego or my pride won’t allow the words to come out.

“You wanna cum ma?” She hisses, her breath hot in my ear. I nod eagerly, feeling my wetness begin to gather enough to drip down the insides of my thighs.

“Yes baby,” I cry out in a quiet voice. Paige grins in that familiar, arrogant way, chuckling smugly. It feels humiliating, which only drives me wilder for some reason.

“I can tell,” she teases, smacking my ass. It echoes around the tight storage room, surely loud enough to be heard from the outside. But neither of us care, especially when she swiftly hooks her fingers around my panties and pulls them down, letting them pool at my ankles. I feel the blonde move back, gripping the skin of my ass harshly to get a better view of my dripping cunt, glistening in the fluorescent light.

“Shit, ma,” she groans, unable to resist. Suddenly, three of her fingers slide into me, the stretch causing a jolt to run through my body.

I gasp loudly at the sudden intrusion, reaching back to grip Paige’s wrist. It was too much, way too intense for the setting, for me to remain quiet. But the blonde grabs onto my hand, pushing it away roughly. I nearly resist but then, her fingers curl inside me, against the soft tissue of my walls, and I nearly crash down. I let out a soft moan, nails scratching against the wall as she fucks me from behind with her fingers, my wetness gushing enough to be dripping down to her wrist and forearm.

“That’s it,” she praises, watching my ass jiggle each time she thrusts her fingers. “Goddamn I need to strap you.”

At this I let out a louder moan, the idea getting me even slicker. Paige chuckles, groaning to herself again.

“Yeah? You’d like that ma?”

I turn my head to glance back at her, cheek against the tile of the wall as I nod, eyes low with pleasure.

“Course you would,” she hisses, speeding up the movement of her fingers. “You act like you so sweet and classy, but I know you like to be fucked like a slut.”

I nod, eyes watering from how fast Paige’s fingers are curling inside my dripping cunt, the stretch turning from pain into something heavenly. I could feel my pussy squeezing her long digits, pulsing around them in desperation, gripping onto them as hard as it could.

“Tell me,” Paige says sternly, meeting my gaze. Her eyes are low and heavy, lips parted with want, hair falling out of her low pony, onto her face.

“Like the way you fuck me P,” I whine, embarrassed by the words. But it only riles the blonde on, as she brings her other hand to my front, reaching down to start rubbing tight, fast circles on my clit.

“Oh fuck,” I gasp, eyes rolling back as the pit in my stomach grows almost humiliatingly fast. The sound of the squelching a constant reminder of how much, no matter what I liked to pretend, Paige was the one to have control over me, instead of me over her. 

“C’mon baby, be a good girl,” she groans, pressing sloppy kisses into my neck.

“I-” I gasp, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten and tighten, on the edge of bursting. “I’m close.”

“You wanna cum?” She asks to which I nod. “Ask nicely.”

I groan, eyes rolling back. I never liked being told what to do. But the way Paige’s fingers were slipping in and out of me, hitting the perfect spot to make me drip all over her hand, was making me weak, desperate. I would do anything right now. Just to cum. The idea of that felt filthy.

“Please P, please let me cum,” I whine, mind completely blank and forgotten about the press conference, or the possibility of people outside. No, the only thing that existed was me, Paige and her heavy breathing in my ear. “Please,” I cry out, doing everything I can to hold back.

“Good girl,” she coos into my eyes, nuzzling my neck with her nose. “Come on mama, cum.”

Obediently, my body finally rolls over the edge, trembling and shaking as Paige’s hands work my cunt skillfully. I’m gasping for air, the waves of pleasure making goosebumps rise all over my skin, my nipples hardening against the tile. My eyes roll back in ecstasy as the blonde pumps her fingers harshly, eventually slowing down to let me ride it out.

We’re both breathing loudly when she finally pulls away, leaving me with a strange kind of emptiness. I dress in silence, Paige watching me closely. Once I’m all covered up, she walks over and presses a kiss on my forehead. I hum, checking my phone.

“Shit, Paige you must go,” I hurry her, unlocking the door back into the tunnels. Empty, thank God. “You’re late, everyone’s looking for you.”

“Aight, I’m going,” she sighs, about to step out when she turns back around, grabbing my face and kissing it. I kiss her back, smiling against her lips.

“Go!” I giggle, pushing her away.

“Fine!” She laughs, walking out of the room backwards, to keep watching me for as long as she possibly could.

“That was some game Bueckers,” I tell her, which only makes her smile even more as she turns around and begins to jog towards the conference.

-

“And that three at the end was insane! Dude, you were all in Olivia’s face she looked like she was going to cry honestly…” Kiran explains excitedly, hands flailing around the air as he reimagines his favourite moments of the game. I grin, leaning back in the booth and sipping my hard earned beer. Arike nods, as engaged in the conversation as the boy beside me, clapping her hands together loudly.

“Yo, when Miles got into the refs faces I thought she was gon’ get a tech for sureeee,” Rike chimes in, barely containing her grin. 

“Keep playing like that and we got rookie of the year right here,” Lou smiles, clinking the glass bottle with mine. I smile bashfully, looking around the bar a little embarrassed. It was a dingy, quiet one with low lighting, filled with people but we were definitely the loudest ones here.

“Fuck rookie of the year, how’ bout we get that ring,” Arike says confidently. I cover my face with my hand. We both knew that it would be far from our reach this year, but perhaps after a few years of playing together we could have a shot. It was bound to happen. Still, as I got to know Arike more, I learned she liked to exaggerate.

“Aight, enough,” I tell them, patting Kiran on the shoulder. “Let’s get you another drink,” I smile, waving the waitress over.

“Iz will be mad if you get me drunk,” he jokes.

I shrug, finishing my beer. “Let her, it’s your last night here.”

The waitress walks over, long braids and a sweet, Texas smile on her face as she approaches.

“What can I get y’all?” She asks. There’s a perky lilt to her voice, a glimmer in her eye that was far too familiar to me. Her brown eyes stay on mine, before looking me up and down noticeably. 

“Two beers,” I simply say, not so affected by the clear hints the girl was giving me although she was clearly gorgeous. Honestly, since I met Iz, I couldn’t even think about another girl. Who would’ve thought. College me would be flabbergasted.

“Nothin’ else for you baby?” She asks, the pet name making Kiran snicker underneath his breath. I grin in a polite way, shaking my head at the waitress. 

“Nah, thank you, we’re good.”

She nods, getting the hint. “Well, let me know if you change your mind.”

“Wow, that’s brave,” Kiran laughs as the waitress walks away. “Thinking you’re a lesbian.”

Me, Arike and Lou all turn to Kiran, raising our brows at the same time.

“Hollup,” Arike says, pointing at me. “You think this girl right here is straight?”

Suddenly Kiran’s face turns red, eyes flickering between me and the woman next to me.

“Uhh,” he mumbles. “I mean, Izzie said you’re gay but I thought that was just her joking around.”

At the same exact time, Arike and Lou burst into a choir of laughter, the corners of my mouth curling into a smile as well.

“Oh Kiran,” Lou gasps between laughs, reaching over to ruffle his hair. He had honestly become almost like a little brother only in the week he had spent with us. I knew I’d miss him once he was gone.

“W- So,” He mumbles, looking at me. “You’re gay?”

I nod, pressing my lips together in a tight smile. “Yeah, Kiran, I’m gay.”

“Ohhhh,” he says in realisation. “That makes sense then.”

“You know me and Lala ain’t just friends either?” Arike jokes, making the boy roll his eyes, much like his sister would. God I missed her, but she had to stay behind after the post game conference to schedule some content. Still, even a couple hours apart felt like torture.

“Well yes, you’ve got your hand on her ass 24/7.”

We all chuckle, as the waitress returns, holding two beer bottles in her hands.

“Thank you,” I grin, grabbing it from her. She flashes me a wide smile, before returning behind the bar.

“So why won’t you ask her out then?” Kiran asks, pointing to the pretty waitress with his bottle.

I shift nervously, rummaging my head for an excuse.

“Is she not your type?”

“Nah, it’s not that,” I quickly answer, looking at the girls beside me for any help. But both of them are looking away, pretending to be engaged in a conversation of their own. Traitors.

“Uh, just wanna focus on hoops for a bit.”

Kiran chuckles. “Well, you don’t have to look for a relationship. Why not get with her just for a shag.”

“Uhh, well,” I mumble, my face turning red. Just as Kiran begins to wave the waitress over, Izzie’s voice stops him.

“Are you drinking again?” She scolds her brother. I turn my head to find her standing behind me, arms crossed and face scrunched. I guess it had been a stressful evening for her. My heart aches, wanting nothing more than to sit her beside me, let her order anything she wanted and drive her home to take care of her, to allow her to relax. Every cell in my being wanted to serve her.

“Paige said it’s okay,” Kiran argues. Her green eyes flicker to me, making me nervous and regretful. 

“Paige,” she scoffs, everyone around us laughing at our dynamic.

“‘M sorry, it’s the beer. It’s bad for my judgement,” I whine, earning a smile from the girl. It makes me want to burst.

“You’re a constant pain my ass Paige,” she jokes, signalling for her brother to stand up so she can sit beside me. The minute I feel her bare thigh pressing into mine, my body calms down, all my muscles relaxing miraculously.

“I think you like it,” I whisper into her ear, giving her cheek a kiss. Platonic enough to seem friendly to her brother.

“So,” Kiran says, leaning forward. “Paige thinks that waitress is fit.”

Oh God. I watch as Izzie’s eyes follow where her brother is pointing, eyeing the girl before looking at me. Her gaze sharpens, entire demeanor growing tense.

“Oh,” she mutters, furrowing her dark brows. “I see.”

“No, no, that’s not what I said,” I immediately jump in, scolding Kiran. But he simply shakes his head.

“I reckon she should go ask for her number, what do you think Iz?”

The girl shifts so our sides aren’t touching anymore, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s upset, a blind man could tell. 

“I think Paige can do what she wants,” she says coldly, avoiding my gaze. Arike covers her mouth to hide her laughter.

“Kiran,” Rike hisses, trying to get him to stop. It’s no use.

“Yeah, she came over and was calling her baby and everything,” Kiran continues, my cheeks burning bright red now. 

“I see, well that’s nice,” Izzie mumbles, pulling out her phone just to slide back and forth between her home screens. “Go ahead, do it.”

“No Iz, c’mon,” I say, my hand coming to stroke her thigh gently underneath the table. But she pulls away. I couldn’t lie though, there was a part of me feeling satisfied - Izzie liked me enough to get upset over something like this.

I exhale, knowing this might be stupid move. But I couldn’t bare to have Izzie upset with me. “Kiran, I’m already sorta seeing someone,” I say hesitantly, knowing this was the only way. “She’s awesome, Ion wanna ruin it. I’m so into her.”

Izzie’s green eyes turn to me, our gazes meeting. Her face softens, and slowly she presses against my side again. I feel flutters overwhelming my chest, wanting nothing more than to kiss her right now.

“Oh, my apologies,” Kiran says understandingly, though his hazel eyes remain on me and Iz, watchful.

“Is it someone I know?” He asks.

Me and Izara stare into each other for a moment, and I can tell she’s considering, mulling it over in her head. Maybe her brother deserved to know, maybe he would even like us being together. He certainly liked me, and I liked him.

But the reality is, no one should know, and far too many people already did. As much as I wanted to show everyone she was mine, to shout it from the rooftops, I wanted to keep her here much more.

“Uh, no,” I mumble, finally breaking eye contact. Iz does the same, smiling awkwardly at her brother. Kiran nods, eyes flickering between me and his sister for a while.

“I’m kinda hungry,” Lou complains, eyes skimming the bar. “They do any food here?”

“I think so,” Izzie says, standing up in the booth to look for a menu, until she spots a pile of them stacked at the corner of the bar. “I hope they have mozzarella sticks.”

“You and your damn mozzarella sticks,” I laugh, still aware of Kiran’s hazel eyes locked on me and Iz. I ignore it, standing up with Izara and following her to the bar. She grabs the maroon menu with her slender fingers decorated with gold rings, skimming over the pages.

“They do have mozzarella sticks!” She grins. I smile at her warmly, her excitement heating up my chest. “You girls probably want some wings huh?”

“Yes ma’am,” I smile, leaning over her shoulder to read the menu from behind her. Discreetly, the girl presses her butt into my hips, ever so slightly leaning backwards to send jolts all over my body. My hands are itching to touch her, to hold her waist - in an attempt to resist I slide them into the pocket of my hoodie, keeping them restricted.

“Kiran too, and maybe some fries?” She asks. I turn around, yelling to Kiran over the chatter of the bar. 

“Yo, Kiran,” I shout. “Whatchu want?”

Izzie murmurs something, but I barely hear her, trying to make sense of what Kiran is trying to reply all the way from our booth.

“Paigeuhh!” Izzie whines, her hand reaching up and yanking on my sleeve, and then my hood, in an attempt to get my attention. But I don’t turn, because I can see Kiran’s movements stop for a millisecond, eyes suddenly widening in shock, realisation finally hitting him. It’s then I remember the story of Izara, and her childhood crush, and the pulling on the hood. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

We stare at each other, frozen in time. I rummage my mind for a reason, for an excuse, for anything I could use to hide what’s been going on. But the evidence is stacked against us and for the first time, Kiran is finally realising it.

He stands up from the booth, walking briskly to me and Izzie. For a second I think he’s just going to blurt it out, chew Izzie off for not telling him. And I know she’d blame me for it, maybe even start questioning our relationship. I feel my chest aching, my breathing getting heavy.

“Oh, Ki, should we get fries?” Izara asks, oblivious to the past half a minute as her pretty green eyes skim the menu. 

“Paige, you got a sec? Can we talk?” Kiran asks, with the authoritative, stern voice of his sister. I knew they were similar, but in this moment as the boy’s face hardened, the family resemblance really came through.

“Uh, sure,” I mumble, cheeks burning up. I hand Izzie my card, tapping her on the arm as platonically as I can, now feeling bashful under Kiran’s knowing eyes. “Order whatever you want Iz.”

Me and Kiran walk around the bar, to the terrace buzzing with people, clumsy and tipsy with alcohol. It smells like dried up beer, and sunscreen as we push through to a less crowded corner, me following right behind the boy.

Finally he stops, turning around. There’s a moment he doesn’t speak, and I think he’s about to punch me. But as he exhales, a sly smile grows on his face,

“Man, I had a feeling something was up. I’ve never seen Izzie acting like that around her friends,” he chuckles, but I’m still having a hard time reading how he really feels about it. For a moment I consider just lying, pretending I don’t know what he’s talking about. But it’s too late, and I’m too tired. I want him to know.

“Kiran, I shoulda said sumn,” I murmur, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

“Nah, my sister should have,” Kiran says, sipping his beer.

“She’s just tryna protect us, we’re tryna keep it on the low y’know,” I immediately defend Izzie.

“No, I understand,” he nods, thinking for a while. “I just feel so stupid. She came out to me a few years ago, before, y’know, Jasper, but I didn’t believe her. I just thought she was one of those girls who wanted to be interesting by saying they like girls too. Never thought she’d actually… Be with a girl.”

I swallow, looking at my feet. “Is that bad? That… uh, that she’s with a girl?”

“No, not at all,” Kiran immediately stops me, making his stance on the thing clear. “She’s just been through so much, I worry about her. She always picks the wrong people.”

I chuckle, nodding. “Yeah, so I heard,” I say. “But I’m not like that. Would rather die than hurt that girl.”

He looks at me, wondering. “So is this like a thing-thing, or just something casual?”

I meet his hazel eyes. “We ain’t talk yet,” I say truthfully. “But personally? I’m pretty locked down.”

Kiran keeps watching me.

“She’s amazing, wouldn’t even dream of hurtin’ her.”

“Good, because if you do, we got trouble,” he says, and I believe him. Truthfully, it’s her who could really hurt me. Not the other way around.

“I’m countin’ on that,” I grin. After a moment of hesitation, Kiran wraps an arm around me, and hugs me just for a moment, patting my back.

“You’re a good person, I know you’ll take care of her.”

“Always gonna,” I hug him back, before pulling away.

“We shouldn’t tell her that I know, she’s going to freak out.”

I laugh. “Yeah, let’s just keep it between us, yeah?”

“Just so you know,” Kiran chuckles as we begin to head back inside. “If this ends badly I’m always siding with her.”

I laugh, finishing my beer. “Yeah, I’d side with her too.”

“Oh, you got it that bad?”

“Worse.”

-

“Passport? Charger? Wallet? Waterbottle? Did you remember to pack your jersey?” I ask as me and Kiran head towards TSA, Paige following a little behind.

“You’re acting like I didn’t make a list,” Kiran groans, earning a snicker from the blonde.

“Okay and you still forget stuff so what’s your point?”

My brother stops, grabbing my shoulders and looking at me reassuringly. “Izara, I have everything. Stop worrying. You’re being like mum.”

The truth was I wasn’t worrying about his luggage, I was worrying about him leaving. My chest ached with anxiety and dread, thinking of the moment we had to say goodbye. I loved Dallas, but my God I wanted my brother here more than anything.

“Okay,” I sigh, fully aware that it was time to say goodbye. I wanted to delay the moment, do anything to push it back just a minute more. But there was no choice, I’d have to face it sometime. Paige, noticing my anxiety, places a big hand on my shoulder and rubs. It’s a comforting and grounding presence that I’m glad to have right now.

“We’ll see each other soon, yeah?” Kiran comforts me. I nod, feeling my eyes begin to well up. Great. I hate crying in front of people.

My brother turns to Paige, smiling in a way that meant something more, but what? I couldn’t tell.

“Take care of her,” Kiran says before hugging the blonde. Paige pats his upper back, nodding as she really takes the words in, like they mean more than what’s being said.

“Always, you take care bro.”

“And come to London, Izzie will bring you.”

I scoff. “I will?”

“You must,” Kiran smiles, pulling back. “And don’t be too hard on her,” he says half jokingly, turning to me. I’m not sure what he means, but before I can ask, he’s wrapping his arms around me. I hug him back, fighting the tears threatening to spill over.

“I’ll miss you,” I simply say, wishing I could keep my brother here forever.

“I’ll miss you too Iz,” he replies, his voice softer than usual. 

“Tell mum and dad I said hi.”

“Okay.”

“And text me when you land.”

“Okay.”

“A-and when you board.”

“Iz,” he laughs, pulling back. “I’ll text you the entire way home, okay?”

I nod, exhaling heavily before letting my hands fall to my side from around him. My eyes burn, my throat feels like it’s about to close. But I don’t cry. I refuse.

“Okay, see you,” he flashes that bright, familiar smile, grabbing his carry-on and finally turning around.

“Safe travels,” I mumble, watching as he stands in the queue, waiting for his turn. Paige’s arm snakes around my waist comfortingly as I chew on my bottom lip, anxiety washing over me. I lean my head to her side, not caring about Kiran possibly noticing.

“C’mon,” Paige says carefully, “Let's go home.”

The drive is silent, as I stare out the window, trying to ignore the pain spreading over my chest and throat. It’s like Dallas knew that Kiran left, the sky a gloomy grey and the mixture of humidity and heat making it overbearing and sticky. There’s a storm brewing. You could feel it. The air shifts, the wind picks up.

Paige walks me to my door, leaning against the frame as I take off my shoes.

“You okay mama?” The blonde asks, watching me closely. The moment she does, I burst into tears, finally getting relief from the burning of my eyes. Without hesitating for a second, Paige steps in and wraps me in her arms, like a cocoon of comfort, closing the door behind her.

“Hey,” she comforts, holding me tightly and kissing the top of my head. “Shh, you’re okay Iz.”

She scoops me in her arms, like I’m the lightest person in the world. I cling to her, holding onto her hood as she’s walking me to my couch and placing me down as carefully as she could. Before I can even notice she’s brought me snacks, water, tissues and there’s a movie on, though I’m barely watching, my eyes wet and red with tears.

“I hate goodbyes,” I sniffle.

“I know,” Paige mumbles softly, wiping a tear from my soft cheek, her fingertips cold against my skin.

“Thanks for staying.”

Paige scoots herself between me and the corner of the couch, letting me sit in her lap while she holds me all evening, simply letting me cry. Not trying to distract me, or make me feel bad. She simply lets me feel it all, making me feel safe to do so for the first time in years.

-

My arm grows tingly and numb, but I’m too afraid to move it in case it might disturb the sleeping girl. Izzie’s eyes are closed, long lashes pressed against her cheeks as she breathes heavily in her slumber. Her face is puffy and red from crying, lips uncharacteristically chapped from all the biting. I kiss her forehead gently, pulling my arm from under her as carefully as I possibly could.

I stop as she stirs, but quickly becomes motionless again, giving me a chance to escape just for a moment. I climb over the corner of the couch, fixing the blanket over the girl. It felt special to know she felt comfortable enough to be this vulnerable with me. I knew it wasn’t easy for her. Yet she still lets me take care of her like this. Not Trey, not Jasper, me.

I take light steps into her bedroom, rummaging my brain for any sort of chapstick she might have. I check her purse, but there’s nothing. No sign of chapstick. Frustrated, I begin to go through the drawers of her nightstand, finally getting to the bottom one. I kneel over it, moving piles of neatly organised papers out of the way when I see it.

Together with their parents, Jasper Hughes and Izara Chopra  request the honor of your presence at their wedding on June 20th 2025 at one o’clock in the afternoon Syon Park Brent Lea, Brentford Reception immediately after Black tie required

The words are printed on a thick, cream coloured paper that feels silky to the touch, heavy in my hands. It’s clean, timeless - the calligraphy gold-embellished and elegant against a backdrop of soft ivory, a silk ribbon carelessly left open around it. My blue eyes read it again and again before I take it in. A wedding. Izara’s wedding. Izzie’s and Jasper’s. Wedding. A wedding I had never heard about. A past kept hidden from me, for a reason I didn’t want to find out.

I drop the invite back into the drawer, crashing down onto the ground, frustration growing within me. My chest heaves and feels tight, like I might be sick. Why would she have kept this from me? She was engaged? The room feels like closing in, my eyes burning hot all of a sudden.

I feel like a joke, checking the date on my phone. June 20th. Kiran had come here to be with her so she could make it through this time. And here I was comforting her, over something I thought was completely different thinking we were something more. I felt like a fool, like an idiot. Just a rebound to someone who had been getting married. Fucking married. Without telling me. I thought we told each other everything.

-

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[s4svnn]

oob!couple :

Jungkook and oc are out on a date and girl starts flirting with jungkook and oc gets jealous (possible jealousy sex 🫥)

No touching - Out of bounds drabbles

You always knew your boyfriend was hot, but it still caught you off guard just how many girls asked for his number whenever you were out together. So, to make it clear who he belonged to, you set a rule as punishment—no touching.

Pairing: F1 racer Jungkook x reader (Aylah)

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings/content tags: teasing, punishment, begging, sub Jungkook, dom reader, blindfolding, bondage

Word count: 3k

The night had started out perfectly. Jungkook and I were out on a date at a cozy little restaurant in the heart of the city, tucked into a booth by the window. The soft hum of conversation blended with the low clink of glasses and silverware, the warm candlelight flickering between us, casting golden hues against his sharp features.

And God, did he look good. Jungkook was the kind of man who turned heads without even trying. His black leather jacket hugged his broad shoulders just right, the white tank top underneath stretching over his toned chest, leaving little to the imagine. His silver rings caught the dim light as he idly tapped his fingers against his glass, a habit of his when he was lost in thought. But the real kicker? His hair—gelled back, exposing every inch of that dangerous jawline, making him look like he had just stepped out of a classic movie.

He was effortlessly cool, effortlessly untouchable. But unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one who noticed. The stares had been relentless all night—lingering gazes from across the room, subtle peeks from waitresses, even a few not-so-subtle ones from women walking past our table. But I ignored them. I was used to it. People always looked at Jungkook.

Look, but don’t touch. That was the unspoken rule.

But apparently not everyone got the memo. Tall, gorgeous, and exuding confidence, she sauntered right up to our table, her heels clicking against the floor like she owned the place. Her dress clung to her body in all the right places, her hair styled perfectly, and her bold red lipstick made her smirk look even cockier. She didn’t even spare a glance at me as she approached us stopping right in front of Jungkook.

"Hey," she purred, placing a manicured hand on the table, leaning in far too close. "I just had to come over and say—you have the most incredible eyes. Has anyone ever told you that?"

I blinked. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Jungkook, ever the polite one, gave her a small, forced smile. "Uh… thanks?"

That should have been the end of it. A polite brush-off, an awkward silence, and she’d leave. But, of course, she didn’t. Stupid bitch.

"You from around here?" she continued, tilting her head, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers like she was a walking cliché. I took a slow sip of my drink, waiting to see if Jungkook would shut this down himself. But when he hesitated—whether out of politeness or just not knowing how to cut her off—I decided to step in to preserve my sanity. I leaned forward, casually placing my hand on Jungkook’s forearm, my fingers lightly dragging against his skin. "He’s with me," I said sweetly, my voice laced with fake innocence. "His girlfriend."

Finally—finally—she looked at me, blinking as if she had just now realized I was sitting there. And then she laughed. She fucking laughed. The audacity.

"Ohhh," she dragged out, shaking her head. "I thought you were his sister."

I stared at her, deadpan. "His what?"

"Sister," she repeated, like I was the one who wasn’t getting it. "You guys don’t really look like a couple, you know?"

Jungkook visually tensed in front of me, his jaw clenching, his fingers tightening around his glass. But before he could say anything, I tilted my head, mirroring her condescending smirk.

"Aww," I cooed, my voice just as fake as hers. "That’s funny, because I thought a bitch like you would know her place." I flashed her the sweetest smile. "Guess we were both wrong."

Her smirk vanished instantly. "Excuse me?"

"You’re excused," I said, giving a dismissive wave of my fingers. "Bye bye now."

She scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Wow. Insecure much?"

Jungkook finally spoke, his voice laced with irritation. "You should leave."

The girl huffed, rolling her eyes before muttering something under her breath and stomping off. I smirked, stabbing my fork into my dessert with a little too much force. "Well," I muttered, chewing aggressively, "that was fun."

Jungkook exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned back in the booth, watching me with amusement. "Damn, I didn’t know you had it in you to be jealous?"

I shot him a glare. "Shut up I’m not jealous."

His smirk widened. "You totally are."

"Oh, so now you see things clearly, huh? Where was all this awareness when she was flirting with you?" I huffed, grabbing my drink.

Jungkook lifted his hands in mock surrender, "I wasn’t even flirting back."

"You didn’t shut her down, either."

He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "I was trying to be nice."

"Nice?" I scoffed. "Jungkook, she practically climbed into your lap."

He rolled his eyes. "You’re being dramatic."

I lifted my chin, turning away. "Whatever. Enjoy your fan club."

Jungkook chuckled, reaching for my hand, but I pulled it away before he could touch me. A flash of something dark flickered across his face, and I smirked in return, if he thought this was over he had another thing coming.

The second we got home, Jungkook was all over me. His hands slipped around my waist as soon as we stepped inside, pulling me against him. His lips brushed the shell of my ear as he murmured, "Still mad?"

I smoothly stepped out of his grip, strolling toward the bedroom without so much as a glance in his direction.

Jungkook frowned. "Uh… babe?"

Silence. I grabbed my oversized sleep shirt—the one that barely covered my thighs—and changed into it, knowing exactly what I was doing. When I climbed into bed, Jungkook was already watching me, arms crossed, brow raised. "Alright, what’s going on?"

I sighed dramatically. "Nothing. I’m just enforcing a new rule."

His eyes narrowed. "A rule?"

"Mhm." I turned onto my side, away from him. "No touching."

Jungkook blinked. "No touching?"

"That’s right."

He scoffed. "You’re joking."

I didn’t respond. A few beats passed, then I felt the bed dip as he slid in beside me. His body heat was familiar, comforting—but I refused to acknowledge it. A second later, his lips ghosted over my shoulder, fingers trailing down my side. "Baby…" he murmured, voice low, coaxing.

I dodged, rolling over at the last second. "Goodnight, Jungkook."

He groaned. "What?"

I stretched, pretending to get comfortable. "I’m sleepy."

Jungkook sat up, eyes darkening. "You’re actually doing this?"

I smiled, acting completely oblivious. "Doing what?"

His jaw flexed. "You know what."

I shrugged. "Maybe next time, you won’t let other girls flirt with you."

Jungkook groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Babe, come on."

Jungkook was silent for a few seconds, and I thought maybe—just maybe—he’d give up and go to sleep. But I was wrong. Because a second later, I felt him shift again, his fingers trailing down my arm, slow and deliberate.  He let out a quiet chuckle, the sound low and dangerous. "No touching, huh?"

"Mhm."

His fingers moved again, this time ghosting over my hip. "So if I do this—" his hand grazed my thigh, barely touching, teasing, "—you won’t react?"

I forced my expression to stay neutral, even as a shiver threatened to creep up my spine. "Nope."

Jungkook exhaled a quiet laugh, but I could hear the frustration underneath it. "Baby…" His voice dropped, taking on that tone—the one he used when he wanted something. When he was desperate.

I fought the urge to smirk.

"Jungkook," I said, feigning innocence. "Why are you still awake?"

He let out another sigh, flipping onto his stomach, burying his face into the pillow for a second before turning his head to look at me.

"Because you’re torturing me," he grumbled, voice muffled.

I turned my head slightly, finally meeting his gaze. "Oh? And here I thought you didn’t mind when girls played with you." He groaned, reaching out again, but I moved away just before he could grab me.

"Aylah," he whined, his patience slipping. "Princess, come on—I didn’t do anything wrong!"

I raised a brow. "You let her flirt with you."

"I was just being polite!"

"You didn’t shut her down fast enough."

His eyes narrowed. "She didn’t shut up fast enough."

I hummed. "Mm, interesting. And yet I had to be the one to do it."

Jungkook groaned again, rolling onto his back, throwing an arm over his face. "Baby, please," he muttered. "You know you’re the only one I want, just let me make it up to you."

I stayed quiet.

"Oh, you’ll definitely be making it up to me," I mused, tilting my head slightly. "But we’re going to do this my way."

Jungkook’s eyes flickered with something dark, something intrigued, and before I could even process it, he was already nodding eagerly. "I’ll do anything," he murmured, his voice low, dripping with sincerity. "As long as you forgive me."

I let the silence stretch for a moment, letting his own anticipation work against him.Then, I smirked. "Good boy," I murmured, reaching out to lightly trail a single finger down his chest, stopping just above the waistband of his sweatpants.

His breath hitched. "Now… lay down for me."

Jungkook swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes searched mine. There was something almost vulnerable in his expression—like he was completely at my mercy. And he was. Without hesitation, he shifted back onto the mattress, lying flat against the pillows, watching me carefully. His chest rose and fell a little quicker now, his hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for me but was forcing himself to behave.

I grinned, leaning over him, my lips hovering just above his. "Now, let’s see how well you can listen." I whispered, watching as his eyes darkened. Jungkook lasted about five seconds before he broke. His hands twitched at his sides, fingers curling and uncurling, his entire body tense with the urge to touch me. But when I leaned in just a little closer, my breath ghosting over his lips, he snapped.

He moved—fast—his hands flying up to grab my waist. I swatted them away immediately. "Oh, come on," he groaned, his frustration obvious, his head dropping back against the pillow.

I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. "I mean what I said—no touching."

Jungkook exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw clenching. "Baby, please—"

I smirked, dragging a finger down the center of his chest, watching as his muscles tensed beneath my touch. "You’re not in control tonight, Jungkook." My voice was soft but firm, leaving no room for argument.

His eyes flickered with something dangerous—something needy. And then, before he could protest, I reached over to the bedside table, my fingers brushing against the delicate ribbon I had worn in my hair earlier that night. It was smooth and silky, the perfect length.

Jungkook watched me carefully, his brows furrowing. "What are you—" But he didn’t get to finish. Because in one swift movement, I grabbed both of his wrists, pinning them above his head.

His breath hitched. "Aylah—"

I wrapped the ribbon around his wrists, looping it securely before tying it in place. It wasn’t too tight—I wasn’t actually trying to restrain him. But it was firm enough that he wouldn’t be able to touch me unless I let him. When I sat back, admiring my work, Jungkook let out a sharp breath, tugging at the restraints experimentally.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered under his breath, his fingers flexing as he realized he was actually at my mercy now.

I smiled sweetly. "Told you—you’re not in control tonight."

Jungkook exhaled shakily, his eyes darkening as he looked up at me, completely at my mercy. "Babe…" His voice was lower now, more desperate. "What are you gonna do to me?"

I grinned, dragging my fingers down his chest again—just light enough to tease, just enough to drive him insane. "Oh, love," I whispered, leaning in close, my lips barely brushing his jaw. "You’ll see."

Jungkook was falling apart. His body tensed beneath me, muscles flexing as he pulled against the ribbon, his fingers curling into fists like he was dying to touch me—but he couldn’t. And that made it so much better. I smirked, letting my lips trail back up his chest, slowly, taking my time, dragging my nails lightly over his skin just to tease him. His breath hitched when I reached his collarbone, and I felt him tremble as I hovered there, letting my lips ghost over the sensitive spot.

"Aylah," he groaned, his voice strained. "princess, please—"

I ignored him. Instead, I sank my teeth into the delicate skin right at the base of his neck, sucking hard, determined to leave a mark—something deep, something dark, something no one could miss. Jungkook gasped, his back arching slightly off the bed. "Fuck—"

I grinned against his skin, my tongue flicking out to soothe the bite before moving lower, repeating the process. Biting. Sucking. Marking. His breath came out in ragged pants, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought it might break. "Aylah—fuck—"

I moved to the other side of his neck, my teeth grazing over the smooth skin before biting again, just as hard.

"Shit—"

His head tipped back, exposing more of his throat to me, and I took full advantage of it, trailing my mouth over every inch of bare skin, leaving a path of dark purple and red in my wake. Jungkook was completely at my mercy—helpless, desperate, mine. I smirked as I moved up, kissing along his jaw, feeling the way it tensed beneath my lips, the way his breath shook.

Then, finally, I reached his ear. I let my lips brush against the shell of it, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Let me show all those bitches who think they have a chance who you belong to."

Jungkook groaned, his body jerking beneath me, his hands pulling at the restraints like he was seconds away from breaking free. "Fuck," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "Baby, please—untie me—"

I smirked, pulling back slightly to admire my work. His neck and collarbone were covered in marks, deep bruises painting his skin—a map of my possession. I ran my fingers over them lightly, watching the way his stomach tensed at my touch. "No," I murmured, tilting my head. "Not yet."

Jungkook let out a frustrated groan, his eyes dark and hazy as he looked up at me. "Aylah," he gritted out, his voice almost a warning. "You’re killing me."

I grinned. "Good."

Jungkook groaned loudly, his fingers twisting against the ribbon, his entire body shaking beneath me. "Baby, please—"

I smirked, dipping down, letting my lips barely brush his. "Beg me."

Jungkook’s breath hitched.

"Babe—"

"Beg, Jungkook," I murmured, tilting my head slightly, my lips ghosting over his but never quite touching. "Tell me how much you want me."

Jungkook swallowed hard, his body thrumming with need. "I want you so fucking bad," he rasped. "Please, baby—just let me touch you. Let me hold you. Let me—" He cut himself off with a groan, his head falling back. "Fuck—Aylah, please."

I let the silence stretch, just watching him, letting him writhe beneath me. I watched as Jungkook’s body tensed, every muscle tight with anticipation as I slowly untied the ribbon around his wrists. He let out a shaky breath, clearly relieved, but there was no release just yet.

"Sit up," I commanded softly, my voice cool, but with an edge that made it clear I wasn’t done with him.

He nodded, his eyes still burning with desire. As he moved to sit up against the headboard, I helped him with a hand on his chest to make sure he wasn’t too unsteady. His breathing was still ragged, chest rising and falling quickly. I could feel his heart pounding beneath my fingertips. Once he was sitting back, his body leaning slightly against the headboard, I stood up, watching him with a smug smirk on my face. His eyes followed my every movement, the fire in them never dimming. He was desperate, and that just made the moment even sweeter for me.

"You’re so good for me, Jungkook," I said quietly, my voice dripping with sweetness and something more dangerous. His lips parted, but he didn’t say anything—he was waiting. His hands clenched at his sides, still unused to not being able to touch. I smirked, bending down to grab the ribbon from the bed. The same one that had bound his wrists just moments ago. I brought it up to his face, letting it trail across his cheek. He looked up at me with those dark, desperate eyes, his mouth opening again like he was going to say something. But I stopped him with a raised finger.

"I told you," I said, my voice just above a whisper. "You’re not in control tonight."

He exhaled sharply, his lips trembling, but he didn’t argue. He understood. Slowly, I took the ribbon and held it in front of his eyes, making sure he was watching it, letting the silk slip through my fingers. Then, with one smooth motion, I wrapped it around his eyes, tying it gently at the back of his head, effectively blindfolding him.

His body froze, but he didn’t protest. His breathing was shallow, his entire frame on edge. He was blind, vulnerable, and I could feel the shift in the air—the power had shifted, and now he was completely dependent on me.

"How does it feel?" I asked softly, watching him as his lips parted again, the words caught in his throat. "Not being able to see? Not knowing what I’ll do next?"

He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper as he replied, "Fuck, it feels..."

He didn’t finish, but I could tell what he meant. He was on the edge of losing control, and I was loving every second of it.

"Good," I said, my fingers tracing the edge of his blindfold. "Now you’ll have to trust me, won’t you?"

He nodded, his head slightly jerking up, but his hands remained still at his sides, as if waiting for my next move.

"I’m going to make sure you remember who you belong to," I whispered, stepping closer, my lips brushing against his ear, letting my breath tickle his skin. "Every inch of you."

He shuddered beneath me, his body alive with electricity. I could feel his restraint, but I knew it wouldn’t last long. He was mine—completely and utterly mine. And tonight, I was going to take my time making sure he knew it.

[htaesan]

　ᅠ 📩　ᅠ EMAILS BETTER LEFT UNSENT part 1　　────　ᅠ ( park sunghoon )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀your crush on your best friend of almost ten years is getting out of hand, and you feel like it’s time to give up𑁋especially after seeing how well your desk mate treats you.

　　　ᅠ 박성훈 & 심재윤 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 32k ⠀ genre fluff a bit of angst childhood best friends to lovers non idol au high school au ⠀ contains mentions of food sickness crying skinship pet names ocs and random characters ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net

　　　ᅠ note ᅠ from ᅠ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈 ! ᅠ HELLO your fav fic is back and better!!! (i hope.) saurrrrr i know the word count is crazy and tumblr does not let me put that much words in one post.. so this will have to be in two parts >< (i am so sorry) thank you to soph for proofreading this for me!! i hope it wasn't too much babes ㅠㅠ and enjoy reading my debut enhypen fic on my new blog ^_^

　　　ᅠ ＞︿ 　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

THE December afternoon unraveled like a quiet, fluffy blanket over the landscape. The sky was coloured a soft gray, thick with clouds as it waits for the evening to set. A chilly breeze blows through the skeleton of trees, their leaves long gone. The air was biting against your exposed skin, each breath forming clouds swirling through the atmosphere. 

Nevertheless, you walked through the midst of winter, unbothered by the stinging cold that’s making the tip of your nose red. Munching through a steaming bungeo-ppang in your hands, you skipped jollily through the neighbourhood, happy that you finally didn’t have to spend money on snacks that week. Your brother, Heeseung, had lost a bet against you, and he had to pay for your afternoon snacks for a week. 

As you approached the road your house was located at, you spotted a boy seemingly your age. He was wearing a black puffy winter coat, a pair of ice skates dangling from his hand. His shoulders hunched up and down, quietly sobbing outside the house. 

You heard that scene immediately—why would a boy, who seemed like he was also seven years old like you—cry outside alone? 

Taking a bite out of your bungeo-ppang, you approached him. He heard the rustling of your footsteps against the snowy pavement, and immediately brought his head up. He hastily wiped his tears away with the back of his hand, though he couldn’t hide the fact that he was still crying. 

“Are you okay?” you asked, pushing aside the half-chewed contents of your mouth to one side of your cheeks. 

The boy pressed his lips together. He remained stoic for a while. “It’s not your business.”

You frowned. “But you’re crying—and alone too! Do you know,” you paused, swallowing the bite, “how cold it is right now? You could freeze to death!”

Your mother had always taught you to be kind and compassionate, and it didn’t quite stick with you to let him sob there alone in the cold. 

The boy didn’t reply, and he remained staring at you, tears sticking to his face. 

“You know what? Here,” you said, reaching for the extra bungeo-ppang that you bought. You handed it to him. “I hope that cheers you up and keeps you warm!”

The boy held the bungeo-ppang in his hands, mortified. Did this girl, cheeks and nose red from the cold, hand him a warm treat just because he was crying? He didn’t even know you, and you certainly didn’t know him. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly—a little too quiet that you barely caught it.

You flashed him a smile—one that he could never forget. 

“Come on, eat it,” you urged, taking a bite of your own bungeo-ppang. You chewed on your bite slowly, hoping that your action helped prompt the boy in front of you to do the same. 

You took a seat on the steps next to him, watching closely as he slowly unwrapped the bungeo-ppang. Your lips began to form a wide smile, the cold air nipping at your cheeks as they rose up. You watch him take a hesitant bite of the bungeo-ppang you had shoved into his hands, a flourishing feeling of thrill in your chest. As he began chewing, his sniffles began to fade away, and the tension in his shoulders slowly disappeared. 

“See?” you said, grinning. “Bungeo-ppang makes everything better!” 

Sunghoon didn’t answer right away, letting his eyes dart between the bungeo-ppang in his hands and you, who’s beaming brightly. His tongue remained silent for a while. He slowly chewed on his bite, letting the sweetness of the red bean paste melt on his tongue before finally setting his gaze firm to you. The frown that he had on for the entire day began to waver without him realising. Then, just barely—he smiled. 

It was funny but endearing at the same time—how you, a cute little girl with cheeks puffed out, filled with food—was attempting to cheer him up, not even knowing why he was upset in the first place. 

You smiled back, not aware that your smile caused a feeling that swept through the boy like a gush of fresh air. 

“I’ll get going then!” you said. You gave him a wave of goodbye as cheerful as your smile, then you walked away, not knowing that you would see the crying boy again.

Except that he’s not crying the next time you meet him. 

You were walking through the school hallways, rushing to get back to your homeroom after grabbing your colouring book from your locker. Too busy minding how fast you could get to class without sweating too much, you bump into a boy that looks too familiar for you to just shrug off and say sorry.

“You–!” you exclaimed, almost dropping the colouring book in your hands. The same boy that you saw crying alone outside of a house was now standing in front of you, a calm expression painted neatly across his face. 

Your eyes darted towards the name tag pinned on the boy’s right chest. 

Park Sunghoon. 

“Yeah?” he answered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I know you! You’re the boy who was crying–” 

Before you could finish blurting out the rest of your sentence, Sunghoon extended his hands, clasping them over your mouth to shut you up. He frowned, and under his slightly overgrown hair, you could see the tips of his ears turning red. 

“Yes,” he grunted, forcing a smile. “I’m the same person.”

You stood there, starstruck as you waited for him to remove his hands. Once he did, a huge smile was revealed on your face. 

“You go to the same school as me—this is so cool.” Your eyes sparkled with wonder. 

“Well,” Sunghoon sighed, nodding. “Yes, I do.”

You giggled, feeling like you’re jumping over the moon. You don’t know why, but ever since the day you gave him a warm snack, you couldn’t forget it. You would remember that moment for years to no end. 

The moment you made Sunghoon smile for the first time. 

Something moved in your heart—and it’s as if Sunghoon traded you his friendship in exchange for making him smile that winter afternoon. 

Over the years, it was evident that reserved Sunghoon made room in his heart, in his life, for you. Your worlds expanded—from chasing each other at the playground during recess into racing each other during high school sports day, from yelling at each other about the silliest things into late-night debates about life, and from staying up late to secretly eat snacks under the table to staying up late to study together. 

All of a sudden, it’s been ten years. 

Many things changed for sure, and one thing that was significant is that the boy who you once found crying in the cold had transformed into a handsome youngster. 

But through all the ups and downs, one thing remained the same. 

Sunghoon always smiled at you. 

Or at least, most of the time. 

He is still unpredictable, too.

And somehow—tucked neatly into all the times of teasing, him calling you “princess” more often than he calls you your own name, his lingering touches, and the way he always saves you the last bite of his food—you found your heart constantly betraying you.

“PARK Sunghoon, if you don’t get up right now, I swear I’m going to smack your head with this hockey stick.”

You stand at the edge of his bed, already fully dressed and ready for school. You hit your head lightly with Sunghoon’s hockey stick in one hand, trying to calm yourself down. 

A few minutes ago, his mother had let you in, feeling sorry about how you had already waited fifteen minutes outside, in the freezing cold. Your irritation from the wait only spiraled when Sunghoon’s mother told you that his son hasn’t woken up despite her many attempts to try and awaken him, and you should try waking him instead. 

You don’t mind doing that at all, but the fact that you have reminded him so many times to sleep early for the first day of school, and the audacity he has to not do as promised makes you even more agitated than you should be. 

You have always walked to school with Sunghoon—you had given up trying to catch up with Heeseung and his friends, and now that he’s in college, you have no one to accompany you. Except for your best friend, who’s making you feel like giving up on asking him to walk you to school too. 

You cross your arms, glaring at the lump under the blankets. It’s the first day of senior year, and you’re stuck with trying to get you and your best friend on time at the gates. 

“Five more minutes,” comes his muffled groan. 

“Did you stay up playing games again?” you nag. And in a more stern tone, you continue. “I’m leaving without you, Park Sunghoon.”

“Five more minutes,” he whines from under the covers. 

You make an annoyed sound—imitating the one that your mother often makes when she’s displeased. You drop the hockey stick to the ground with a loud thud, promptly yanking his blankets away. “Nope. Park Sunghoon, we are not doing this again.”

You choke on the remainder of your words, the rest of your blazing irritation dissolving into the air. The blanket had slipped from your hand, revealing a very shirtless, sleep-tousled Sunghoon. His hair is a complete mess, and his toned arms become more apparent as he stretches them.

Your eyes widen, and you immediately look away. But the damage is done, and you’re in an obvious red mess. Your heart had already reacted. 

God, please help me. Not this again. 

“Is it really necessary for you to be like this in the morning?” you mutter, huffily grumbling—more to the fact that the boy you’ve been liking since middle school is shirtless in front of you, than the fact that he’s only got ten minutes to get ready for school.

“Like what?” Sunghoon asks, smirking. He gets up, sitting at the edge of his bed as he ruffles his tousled hair. 

“Like a menace.”

“Woah,” Sunghoon chuckles. “You wound me, princess.”

You turn sharply to him, ignoring the obvious pink spread across your cheeks, and you give him a glare. “Go get ready before I leave you.”

“Okay, fine,” Sunghoon laughs as he grabs his towel and bolts towards the bathroom, leaving you steaming at the corner of his bedroom. “Wait for me!”

And as he shuts the bathroom door close, you know. Another year of this. Another year of pretending that you totally don’t fancy your best friend. 

YOU walk towards the school grounds, almost running to reach past the gates before the clock strikes 8. Sunghoon walks leisurely behind you, his hands shoved into his pocket. He wears a small grin on his face, eyes trained on you as you jog towards your group of girl friends. 

“Y/N!” Jennie exclaims, pulling you into a hug. “I thought you’d never make it. It’s already seven forty!”

“Yeah, you’d always come earlier than all of us, even in freshman year,” Naeun nods, casually sipping her carton of milk. “What’s up today?”

“The usual,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. You gesture to Sunghoon, who’s approaching you. “See that loser over there? He woke up at seven fifteen! And guess who had to physically yank him out of bed?”

Jennie makes a disgusted look. “My goodness… and we’re seniors already.”

You laugh, shrugging. “Exactly my point.”

“I sometimes don’t understand how you even cope with him,” Naeun shakes her head. 

“Love makes everything beautiful,” Jennie giggles, elbowing you. Looking into her eyes, you know that she’s joking—and the ‘love’ she’s referring to is merely platonic—but you can’t help but feel a little unsettling. 

Does she know?

After Sunghoon catches up with you, you then walk to the school gymnasium to attend the assembly with your friends. You walk side by side with your girls, arms intertwined as you chat mindlessly over the things you did over the summer holidays. 

The seniors are seated at the most back of the gym, and you’re somehow ecstatic that you finally get to sit on the ‘honorary’ benches. It feels great in some way, but it’s also telling you that you’re a senior now—you’re a role model, and everyone looks up to you. 

Sunghoon takes his seat next to you, as per usual, adjusting his tie as he gets himself comfortable on the bench. You settle yourself down, your girlfriends to your right. 

You’re starting to take in your surroundings, to process the fact that you’re finally a senior—and you have about seven months left of school; until you feel a smooth cold surface press against your cheek. You turn to the source at once, finding it to be Jake, holding a refrigerated can of Milkis in your direction. 

“Jake!” you exclaim, unsure if you should take the beverage that’s obviously for you. 

“Hi,” Jake grins. “I told you to call me Jaeyun—and here,” he leans forward, gently pressing the can of Milkis into your hand, “this is for you.”

You stare at the can in your hand. “Thank you?” 

“Of course,” Jake winks, and before he can let the rest of his words reach you, Sunghoon acts swiftly. 

Sunghoon straightens his posture, completely blocking Jake. He grabs the can of Milkis from your hands, and he opens it with a quick and loud hiss. 

It all happens too quickly, and you aren’t able to even register anything. 

“Here,” he says in a plain tone, accompanied with a gaze as firm as his words. “Drink up.”

You grab the can from him, slightly turning away from two of them. You bring the drink to your mouth, feeling the uneasy energy emitting from the two boys. 

YOU close your bedroom door behind you, sighing the day’s weight away. You drop your bag beside your study desk, heavy with all the books you carry throughout the day, and immediately launch yourself to your bed. You don’t care that it’s late into the evening and you’re still in your school uniform—complete from the blazer to the ribbon around your collar—all you need is the comfort of your bed. 

Your head is spinning. 

You had hoped, desperately, for a year free from all the complicated feelings swirling around in your heart. You know that it’d distract you, causing you to have to work harder than you already are. You know that it’s dangerous and hopeless—why would Sunghoon like you back? 

You are nothing but his childhood best friend. 

You toss your body to the other side, feet dangling off the bed. 

But what about all the butterflies that flutter in your stomach, threatening to make you burst, everytime Sunghoon is near you?

It’s the first day of school, and your heart is already reacting with a great deal of joy. Your mind replays the little moments you had with Sunghoon today—subtle but enough to remind you of your not so little crush on your best friend.

Him fixing your hair and tying it back after hearing you grunt about your hair getting in the way of your lunch about two times. 

Him holding your bag up the entire walk back home. 

Him chuckling softly at you, the snow falling in slow motion around him, as he listens to you yap about the school’s new Physics tutor. 

Him throwing his scarf to you, in a very unromantic way that you found so sweet, telling you huffily to remember to bring a thicker scarf next time. 

That same scarf is still wrapped around your neck, the thick fabric comforting, his scent familiar. 

You immediately sit up straight, harrumphing as you pull the scarf away. 

I can’t do this.

Not bothering to even shrug your blazer off, you scramble to your desk, turning your laptop on. Your heart beating fast and your head feeling hot, you feel the extreme urge to let it all out. 

You know you have to. 

Five years of harbouring secret feelings for your best friend—feelings that you can’t ever bring yourself to tell him—is burdening. 

You long into your email account, clicking the ‘compose’ button with the determined resolve of a seventeen year old. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if this will clog up your inbox, but I heard from Jay that you don’t really use this email address anymore. So I’m going to send everything here.  I hope these emails will never, ever find you. Sent 22:45 PM. 1st March. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon,  Today is our last first day of school. Ever. It’s insane, isn’t it? I’ve known you ever since we started school, which was nine, almost ten years ago. Absurd, is it not?  I remember vividly how we met. Or, more correctly, how our friendship started.  It was a cold December evening. I remembered walking home from the convenience store, carrying a plastic bag of bungeo-ppang, my favourite winter snack ever. I thought about how foolish I looked—a small and petite seven-year-old kid munching on her snacks in the thick of winter—but how could I resist, risking eating them cold when I reached home? My older brother, Heeseung, lost a bet against me and he said he’d buy me anything I wanted from the convenience store.  And, of course, as a seven year-old, I chose to buy a ton of my favourite snacks. Anyway, as I was waddling home, I saw you. Sitting outside of what I didn’t know back then was your house. Your face was wet with tears, the tip of your ears red from the cold. I remember specifically the moment—I cheerfully said ‘hi’, pouted when you didn’t answer and simply stared deep into my eyes. I then handed you a bungeo-ppang—the one with the red bean paste inside, my favourite one—to help brighten the grim look upon your face.  And, of course, I remember so vividly, the smile that lit up your cute face.  I didn’t even ask what went wrong. I don’t know why—maybe it was the instincts of a first grader. It’s as if the universe was telling me that the only thing you yearned for at that moment was something to simply rejoice your mood.  For the first time, Sunghoon, I felt warm on a winter day.  Sent 23:09 PM. 1st March. 

After pressing send, you lean back into your chair, some kind of relief washing through you. You read over the words you typed, a piece of your pent up feelings for Sunghoon poured out into the screen. Your affections are safe here, expressed in the ways you’ve always wanted to, but you won’t ever have to ruin your lifelong friendship with him. 

You smile to yourself, getting up from your desk. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon,  Thank you for the chocolate moist cake, by the way! It’s really good—I love your mom’s cooking.  Okay, before you scold me—yes, I’m going to go and get ready! You’re coming at 16:30, so technically I still have around 30 minutes to pick out an outfit—and it’s not like we’re going on a date. We’re going to a cafe to study.  Why am I even thinking of going on a date with you? Sent 16:07 PM. 14th March.

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon,  Why are you so good-looking?  Oh and I want to thank Jaeyun for playing basketball in class and accidentally throwing the ball at my face—now I get to see you up close.  Since when are you so… handsome, Hoon? Thanks for saving me. I would’ve hit the floor and cracked my skull if it wasn’t for you.  Sent 17:01 PM. 19th March.

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon, I’m sure you know this by now, but hoco’s in around a week. Do you have anyone to go with?  Gosh, I feel so pathetic. I’m sitting in my room, like a complete idiot, typing away emails that convey my feelings. Emails, Hoon, that the person I like will most likely never read.  I mean, I could’ve written letters… or confessed in person… or text you about this. But, yeah, instead of all the other brilliant options I should’ve done, I’m sending emails to an unused email address instead of confessing directly to the person I like. Funny, ‘cause the person I’m referring to—the person I like—it’s you. There’s a 99% chance you’ll never read these, since the email address I’m sending this to is your old one, the one you used in middle school—with a username that you now think is super weird.  Again, do you have anyone to go with to hoco? I’m asking, ‘cause if you don’t, I’m here. I’ll go with you. Actually, scrap that. I want to go with you. Sent 6:00 AM, 1st April. 

At the study session after lunch that day, you find yourself sitting at your desk, flipping through your textbook as you try your best to direct your focus to its contents. You spin the pen in your right hand absentmindedly, your brain already fried after only a few weeks of school. 

“I swear, I think my brain is short-circuiting.”

Jake, who’s sitting next to you studying his own subjects, turns towards you.  He smirks. “Maybe you just need a good tutor? Or someone to accompany you to the cafeteria right now—either of those choices, I volunteer.”

Sunghoon, whose seat is in front of yours, perks up from his notes. He glances at you, but doesn’t say anything. 

You roll your eyes, laughing. “I’ll pass. You’re trying to catch me off guard, aren’t you? Planning to make me pass out in a food coma.”

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Sunghoon, Mom just asked if I got a date for homecoming. What should I say? I mean, it’s not like I don’t have any potential candidates—Jaeyun’s been hinting to go with me for a while. Poor him, honestly. I keep on ignoring him… Also, Naeun told me that Huening Kai from 12-2 is planning to ask me if I want to go to homecoming with him tomorrow.  Well, if you’re asking me, I could go with Jaeyun or Kai. It doesn’t really matter—Jaeyun’s really nice, he treats me well. He plays basketball too, and I’m sure he’ll show up with flowers or something (that’s what Jennie, his twin sister, said). Kai seems okay, too, I’ve heard rumours about him being ridiculously handsome if he wants to. I’m not entirely sure what that means. But, deep inside my heart, I know just perfectly who I want to go with.  You.  Just… you. Sent 13:43 PM, 1st April. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Hoon! 30 minutes ago, I saw Heeseung come home with purple flowers and a bunch of chocolate. Something clicked inside my head as I knew something was up—something related to my friend, Jennie Sim, as her favourite colour is purple and she LOVES chocolate. Okay, anyway, I rushed downstairs to ask him what that was all about.  And guess what? Heeseung’s planning to ask her to homecoming!  I’m kicking my feet in the air as I’m writing this.  Though, you know, I wish I had someone like my brother. I mean, someone who’s going to love me like I’m the only woman in his mind. Like I’m the only one that matters, and that he loves me with his entire existence.  Don’t ask me why I wish for that someone to be you.  It’s weird. It’s bad. I’m not supposed to like my own best friend.  Sent 17:55 PM, 1st April. 

IT’S the next day, and you’re dreading every single step towards school. Today, Sunghoon is not walking you to school—you’re not too disappointed, as you needed some time away from him. 

It’s ridiculous—you know you shouldn’t even be upset. You and Sunghoon are just friends. Nothing more. 

“Y/N!” 

You turn around, curious to see Jake running towards you from the school gate. Jake is your desk mate, and your best friend’s twin brother—so the two of you had been quite close ever since Jennie and Jake’s family moved next door. 

You wait for him patiently, and unsurprisingly, he barely takes a few seconds to catch up to you. 

“Hey,” he greets you tenderly, slightly out of breath. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you smile. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” the brunette replies, offering you the goofiest smile you’ve ever seen. “Just wanted to walk with you. Also, Y/N, I swear, you get prettier every time I see you. What are you trying to do—trying to make me fall harder for you?”

You choke on thin air, eyes bulging as you try to form a response.

Jake grins, but then he looks around, looking for someone. Without missing a beat, he asks. “Where’s Sunghoon?”

“He’s probably on his way, still,” you answer, glancing at the time on your smartphone, a little glad Jake changed the topic. 

7:15 AM.

“Sunghoon should arrive soon. He usually comes to school exactly at twenty past seven,” you continue. “I honestly have no idea why. He wants to come to school earlier than half past seven, but not earlier than quarter past seven.”

Jake chuckles at your little rant about Sunghoon. “He’s one attentive person, I guess.”

“Surely,” you nod, mentally slapping yourself for smiling about such a small talk about Sunghoon. 

“Come on, let’s walk to class,” Jake says, “we’ll wait for Sunghoon there—do you want any drinks? You know, like coffee or tea. Strawberry milk, maybe?” 

You begin walking with Jake, footsteps in sync, to your homeroom. “Drinks? This early in the morning?”

“You look like you haven’t eaten anything for breakfast,” Jake replies. He grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the cafeteria—straying away from the path to your homeroom. His eyes quickly scan for any snacks or lightweight meals he could buy for you. 

“Jae,” you say, purposely using a nickname you never use (and probably will never do again) to grab his attention. “You don’t have to buy me anything, you know.”

Jake, who’s deep in engagement with the cashier, perks up at the nickname. He turns around and gives you a grin, “yeah, I know I don’t have to. I just want to.”

“Here,” he hands you a kimbap and a box of mango yoghurt drink, the silly grin still on his face. That grin you always see Jake offer you. “Eat up.”

“Thanks,” you reply with a smile, marvelling at how delicious the kimbap in your hand looks. 

7:35 AM.

“Hoon!” you exclaim, jumping out of your seat so abruptly it startles Jake—who’s reading a comic book next to you. You race towards your best friend at the door. Sunghoon, despite his usual nonchalant demeanour, gives you a small and brief smile.

“Hi,” he utters in his customary tone—deep and quiet. “You’re early.”

“Not really,” you reply with a bubbly smile. 

“Have you eaten breakfast?” you ask as the two of you walk to your desks. 

“I have—have you?”

You shrug. “Yeah, kinda—Jake bought me some.”

Sunghoon’s smile falls, but you’re too busy rambling to notice.

“You’re 5 minutes late, by the way.”

Sunghoon lets out a chuckle, his face quickly hiding the slip up, “I forgot you assume that I can teleport from the school gates right to the front of the class.”

Your cheeks flush warm, “no! I’m just saying… you usually come at half past seven. Like, exactly. Did something happen?”

Sunghoon pulls his chair out of his desk and sits down. Smirking, he comments, “Y/N, are you my girlfriend or something? You sound like it.”

His words make both you and Jake choke on thin air. 

I wish, you think to yourself.

“Hoon!” you stammer, “what the hell?”

“Sorry,” he says in between gasps of silent, ‘Sunghoon’-type laughter. “Couldn’t defeat my intrusive thoughts.”

“So,” you begin, changing the topic of the conversation so flawlessly. It’s always been that way—nothing is ever really complicated with Sunghoon. You could talk about ten different topics in under five minutes; and he’d listen to it all. “Have you thought about who you’re bringing to homecoming?”

Homecoming. A topic that makes your stomach turn upside down—knowing that, given the current situation, you’d be going with Jake instead of Sunghoon. 

And as expected, the two boys seated around you look up. 

“Nope,” Sunghoon’s reply is simple. 

“You? The golden hockey player of Decelis, haven’t thought about who to bring to homecoming?” Jake exclaims, with a touch of drama. 

Sunghoon chuckles. “It’s just homecoming. I could bring anyone.”

You break his gaze, looking away.

That ‘anyone’ broke your heart just a little bit. If he could bring anyone, that possibly meant he wouldn’t bring you—there are many other girls, much prettier and livelier than you, that he could bring. 

“You, Y/N?” Jake asks, “who are you going with?”

“I don’t know,” you reply after some time. 

You watch as Sunghoon opens his mouth to speak, yet is fiercely cut off by Jake’s relaxed comment. 

“You know, you could always go with me,” he says with a careless smile, leaning back into his chair. 

Sunghoon stiffens while you awkwardly smile. This was the first time Jake had directly brought it up—his requests and subtle hints of going to homecoming with you had always been through Jennie, contrasting with the way he’s always so obvious with his interest in you. “Actually, I’m probably not going to homecoming.”

“Why?” Jake asks. 

“Um…”

To be frank, despite being active in clubs, and being seemingly social, you dislike big social events. Especially the likes of homecoming or prom. There’s something about large crowds that makes you feel slightly out of place, and the fact that you’re surrounded by couples… just makes you a little sappy.

“Y/N doesn’t really like those kinds of events,” replies Sunghoon, his gaze directed to Jake a little too sharp than you’d like. 

“Hoon,” you lament, nudging him with your elbow. 

“If you’re asking her out,” Sunghoon continues, his nonchalant expression morphing onto his face, “you should know.”

“OI! Princess!” Sunghoon calls from behind you, oblivious of your widened eyes and accelerating heartbeat due to the nickname. 

You turn around and stop in your tracks, letting him catch up. “Yeah?”

He adjusts the placement of his varsity jacket—his pride, earned by qualifying into the school’s varsity hockey team—before he speaks. “Are you really not going to homecoming?”

You purse your lips before nodding. 

To you, there’s really no use of going to homecoming, not when the only person you’re truly interested in going with isn’t going. 

“Yeah, no. I’m not. Why?”

Sunghoon shoves his hands into his pockets. For a second, he looked really disappointed. But the look quickly dissolves, and he shrugs. “N-nothing, I was just curious.”

Embarrassed, you quickly nod. “Okay.”

“Yeah,” he gives you a smile, ruffling your hair. “Get back home safely. Text me when you’ve arrived home.”

“But you’ll be at practice–”

“It’s okay,” Sunghoon cuts you off, flashing you a soft, reassuring smile. One that makes your heart lap a million miles per hour. “I’ll read it anyway. They can’t get rid of me—I’m Decelis’ best bet at winning this season.”  

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Hoon… What was that? That was weird. Really weird. I don’t like it.  Why did you ask me if I was really not going to hoco? Are you going to ask someone out, and not want them to think we’re friends?  I… you know, what? I’m not going to think about it anymore.  I don’t care.  Just… ask out anyone you want to. Even if it’s not me.  Even if it’s me. This possibility doesn’t quite make sense, as I don’t think you do see me the way I… see you. My saviour, the person who knows me best, the person I’ve developed feelings for.  You know what, Hoon? I’ll go with Jaeyun, if there are no signs of you asking me to go with you. By tomorrow. Sent 18:01 PM. 2nd April.

“HONESTLY, Y/N, I admire you,” Jennie says suddenly, causing you to almost spit out your lunch. 

You’re sitting at the usual spot you usually do with your girlfriends—Jennie and Naeun—people-watching as each of you devour your lunches. Jennie sits in front of you while Naeun sits on your left side. Jennie, as usual, has her lunch of various goodies from the convenience store; and Naeun, like you, sticks to what the school cafeteria serves. “What? Why?”

“I admire the way you don’t even care if you have a hoco date,” she continues. 

“Oh, God,” you exhale shakily. “Jen, you scared me! And yes, I don’t care. If I don’t have a date, then I don’t have to go.” 

Lie. 

Kind of.

Actually, a very small part of you wanted to go to homecoming—just for the experience. Besides, you’re a senior now, and you won’t get to experience any of this after graduation. But again, you’re reminded by the fact that you do not have a date, or at least, the person that you want to go to isn’t your date. 

“Why do you not want to go?” Naeun, from your left, asks. She gulps down the last bit of her strawberry milkshake before continuing. “I mean, I know you’re the top student, and you don’t party ‘cause all you do is shove your nose into a book and study. But, Y/N, it’s your last homecoming.”

You dramatically groan, “you girls know why I hate hoco. Looking at all the couples around me makes me wanna barf.”

Naeun and Jennie burst into laughter, clutching their stomachs. Amused, you grin along.

“Well, I can’t relate anymore,” Jennie giggles. “I’ve got–”

Naeun hits Jennie’s head lightly with her fork. “Okay, girl, we get it,” she turns to you, flipping hair off her shoulders. “Y/N, honestly, how does it feel when your best friend’s dating your brother?”

“We’re not dating!” Jennie shrieks. Naeun rolls her eyes.

You laugh, “honestly, it is kind of weird hearing someone talk so… fondly, I might say, of Hee oppa. Frankly, Jen, Hee oppa is not who you think he is.”

“He’s amazing,” gushes Jennie. One look at her face, and an exchanged glance between you and Naeun, was enough to tell that Jennie’s completely smitten. 

“For now,” Naeun quickly adds. “Though, if he starts treating you like trash, or making you shed a sad tear, I won’t hesitate to burn his house down.”

“Hey!” you exclaim, despite agreeing with Naeun. Your brother or not, you’d destroy his life if he made your best friend sad. “Where am I going to live if you burn our house down?”

“Sucks to be Heeseung’s sister, huh?” Naeun jests. 

“You can live with me,” Jennie adds on to the joke, “Jaeyun’s going to be delighted to have you live with us.”

“Mhm, remind me, are you finally going to go to hoco with Jake?” Naeun asks. 

“Yeah, are you?” Jennie urges. “I swear, it is so annoying hearing him talk about you. It’s weird—aren’t you guys friends?”

You shove another dumpling into your mouth. “Yeah, we are friends… and yeah, it is weird, now that you say it.”

“Reject him if you don’t want to,” Naeun suggests. “Pity him. He’s been on your tail for like God knows how long, trying to get you as his homecoming date. And more.”

“He’s liked you for quite some time,” Jennie says softly. “Well, trust me, it’s weird hearing him talk about you, my best friend, in that way—but I do want you to decide quickly. If you don’t want to go with him, just say so.”

You stay silent, processing the obvious variety in Jennie’s words. 

“This is for your own good, Y/N,” she adds, “and my twin brother’s own good, too.”

“I’m not sure what to do,” you finally say. “I… don’t want to risk losing a friend by rejecting him.”

Honestly, that’s how you feel with Sunghoon, too. Your friendship, strong and unbreakable for almost a decade, was the sole reason you’re afraid to confess your true feelings to him. 

On the other hand, however, you feel extremely weirded out by Jake. You started befriending him in early sophomore year, when he was first assigned as your deskmate. You remember him being as bubbly and friendly as he is now, and you’re sure that the two of you became friends because of his benevolent attitude.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Jennie pats your shoulder. “I know him best to assure you that he’s not the type to break off a friendship just because his feelings aren’t reciprocated.”

Now, you feel a little less bad to tell Jaeyun (or Jake, to most people) that you’re going to go as his date only if Sunghoon’s not asking you too.

“SO, how was practice?” you ask Sunghoon, slightly smiling at how the thunk of your footsteps coincide.

Sunghoon tilts his head for a moment, trying to form his words. He then looks at you before replying, “yeah, it was okay. Nothing really interesting.”

“What about that newbie—what’s his name again?” you ask, recalling about Sunghoon telling you that they were having a few new players.

“Riki? The freshie?”

“Yeah!” you nod, “that one!”

“He’s okay,” replies Sunghoon, “he’s good, actually, for a freshman. I heard he played in middle school, so I guess that’s where the skills come from.”

You nod again, and comfortable silence engulfs the two of you. The crunch of autumn leaves beneath your steps and the gentle breeze creates a fulfilling ambiance. 

“What about you?” he asks, after a few moments of silence—of you basking in his presence, enjoying the present of walking home with him. “I can’t imagine how hard it is to balance being our batch’s top scorer and orchestra at the same time.”

You chuckle. It had been hard on a few occasions; for example, if you had an orchestra concert to practise for, and around the same had tests to study for. But, generally, it’s quite simple. “Violin’s just a hobby of mine. I’m glad I have an orchestra club as a way to practise it.”

“Oh, shut up,” Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “Don’t ever come to me and complain about it, then, if it’s ‘just a hobby’.”

You laugh, stealing a glance at Sunghoon. And, as always, it hits you. 

You dislike, probably just a little bit, how carefree and easy you become when you’re with Sunghoon; how he makes everything feel so simple; how he makes life less tiring, and how he makes you feel that you’re worth befriending. 

He’s so handsome it hurts—his fair complexion looks soft and well taken care of, his nose bridge is sharp, his smile stunning yet delicate. 

“We’re here,” Sunghoon says, pushing you out of your train of thought. You stand, with him,  in front of your house. The smell of kimchi soup begins to attack your sensory buds. “Oh, that smells good…”

“I think mom’s making dinner already,” you point out. “Do you wanna stay over? I can go and ask.”

Sunghoon shakes his head, smiling lightly. “No, it’s okay. As much as I want to devour every last drop of your mom’s cooking, I have to get home. My mom’s bringing us to visit grandma, so I shouldn’t miss it.”

You mirror his smile. “Okay. Get home safely.”

Sunghoon nods, and after a few steps away, he turns around and waves. He smiles—the usual, soft and gentle grin he always offers you, yet… something just feels different. He lingers around longer than you expect him to, before finally turning on his heel and walking home. 

You watch him walk away, and it’s like a scene in melodramatic dramas: he strolls leisurely home, your eyes follow him from behind as golden brown leaves sway down from the trees. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Park Sunghoon, It’s Thursday now. Um, yeah, I know I shouldn’t be sleeping this late, but I just finished watching 20th Century Girl, and I took, like, 15 minutes to calm myself down from all the tears, hehe.  Are you… going to ask me to go to homecoming with you?  It’s getting more and more hopeless as every minute passes by. In 7 hours, I’m going to go to class and say yes to Jaeyun, you know?  I hate it. I hate how I’m hoping you would stop me from saying yes to Jaeyun. I hate how I’m desperately wishing you’re preparing something to ask me to homecoming.  You know, what? Forget it. I’m going with Jaeyun. Sent 00:10 AM, 3rd April. 

“Y/N, you okay?” Heeseung asks, making you look up from your half-eaten bowl of a concoction of rice, soup, kimchi, bean sprouts and seaweed. He sips on his tea, eyes trained sharply on you. 

“Yeah, I am,” you reply, feeling a little guilty. You weren’t entirely lying, but it’d be such a fabrication if you told yourself you weren’t feeling down at all. “Why?”

“Did you sleep late? Or did you get dumped?”

“Oppa!” you exclaim, “when did I ever get a boyfriend?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot that you’re always sticking around with Sunghoon. People think you’re his girlfriend, so no one’s asking you out,” Heeseung snorts. 

Your eyes slightly widen. Heeseung sounds sarcastic, but you uncover some truth behind his words. “Wait—people actually think like that?”

“Yeah, of course,” Heeseung replies, rolling his eyes. He swallows his bite before continuing, “everyone thinks you’re Sunghoon’s, you know?”

“People think so?”

“Girl, the two of you act like a literal couple. You hold hands, kiss cheeks and call each other nicknames like it’s nothing. I mean, those who know you guys are friends know that it’s platonic, but–”

“Then, why isn’t he doing anything about it?” you snap, crossing your arms. Your sudden outburst shocks everyone in the room—even Heeseung stops eating. 

“Y/N-ie, you alright, sweetie?” your mom asks from the kitchen. 

“I’ll be fine,” you reply. “Heeseung oppa is bothering me!”

“What are you saying, idiot?” Heeseung hisses. “I’m not bothering you, just tell me whatever is bugging you!” 

“I’m upset,” you declare truthfully. “I want to go to hoco with Sunghoon. But he’s not asking me or anything,” you whine, dragging out each word in a dramatically exaggerated manner.

Heeseung snorts, “if you want to go with him, just tell him? It’s not that hard.”

“It is hard! Oppa, imagine telling your childhood best friend: ‘oh, I like you. Can we go to homecoming together?’. That kind of thing completely ruins a friendship! Imagine if he doesn’t like you back? How would you feel?” 

Heeseung leans back into his seat, smirking smugly. “I don’t have any girl best friends, so I wouldn’t know.”

“YAH!” you yell, smacking your brother’s head with your spoon. He laughs, clutching his stomach as you sit back down, pouting. “I’m upset and all you’re doing is laugh at my face.”

“Hey, I’m just joking around,” Heeseung reassured, “I get how you feel—even though I kinda don’t.”

Your brother laughs as you huff. 

“I think you should go and confront him about it,” Heeseung suggests, going back to devouring his breakfast. “I’m honestly surprised you told me that so straightforwardly, but I guess that’s the result of me sacrificing my ego to get close to you when we were kids.”

You kick his leg under the table, annoyed by the way he’s laughing as you do so. “Shut up. Don’t make me regret having you as my brother.”

“SEE you after school, Y/N-ie,” Heeseung says as you exit the car. He waves to you before driving off. You then make your way towards the entrance gate, only to be greeted by an obviously excited and jumpy Jennie. 

“Y/N!” Jennie waves, all smiles. “Come on!”

You jog up to her, who’s standing at your school gate. “Hi. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” she replies, but you know her a little too well to accept that as an answer.

“Oh, you think I’m stupid, don’t you?” you elbow her, “you’re a bit too smiley at quarter past seven. Something’s definitely up.”

Jennie giggles, “I’m sorry, I forgot you’ve been my friend since middle school. Now I kind of resent myself for picking Decelis Academy as my study abroad option in 8th grade.”

You hit her shoulder, laughing in synchronisation. “Anyway, Jen, tell me what’s going on. Is Heeseung coming to pick you up after school today or what?”

“Nah, I am,” Jake’s voice coming from your left startles you, making you lose your balance. Yet, Jake is quick to grab your arm, stabilising you. 

You turn towards the source of the voice, expecting him to be standing at a reasonable distance beside you. But, oh boy, the goosebumps you get from seeing his face merely inches away from yours…

“Oh?”

Jake smiles. “I’m sorry for startling you,” he says, letting go of your arm gently. “What were we talking about again?”

“Yah, Jaeyun,” Jennie interrupts, smacking her twin brother’s head. “Don’t go around and scare people by whispering right in their ear. It’s creepy, you know?”

Jake laughs sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Anyway, you’re picking Jen up today? What does that mean?” you ask. “Don’t you guys, like, cycle home everyday? Together?”

“Yeah, we do,” Jennie replies, “but today he’s bringing me and you dress-shopping.”

“Me?” you gasp.

“Yep,” Jake nods. “I-I mean, I suggested it to her. You know, since… um, my sister’s going to hoco with your brother, a-and she wants to go dress-shopping… I thought it’d be fitting to bring you too.”

“You can help me pick,” Jennie adds, smiling. 

“Sure,” you agree after some thought. After all, going shopping with Jennie is something you enjoy doing, and there’s nothing wrong with her twin brother accompanying the two of you. 

Except… that the said twin brother is most likely, according to the current situation, your hoco date. 

WALKING out of the chemistry lab, you drag your feet towards the cafeteria. There have been several periods and classes with Sunghoon, yet there hadn’t been any indication that he’d be asking you to go to homecoming with him. 

“So,” Jennie begins, as soon as you set down your tray. She waits for you to sit down before uttering, “are you going to homecoming?”

“I think so,” you say, shrugging. “I mean, I thought about it, and it’s my senior year. I should go to homecoming.”

Naeun and Jennie shriek happily. 

“Oh my God! My wish came true!” Jennie clasped her hands together. 

“We can finally take a trio polaroid together. Complete. As one,” Naeun says. 

“Gosh, stop over–”

“What wish?” you get interrupted, once again, by the one and only: Park Sunghoon. He nods to acknowledge Jennie and Naeun in front of you, before sitting down next to you. 

“Nothing,” you immediately reply. You shift awkwardly in your seat, uncomfortable by the way your cheeks are warming up. 

How on earth did you actually survive being Sunghoon’s best friend for almost 10 years whilst having a crush on him? 

Maybe having a crush on him for 5 years has taught you the skill of burying your feelings whenever he was around.

“I’ve known you for 10 years,” Sunghoon says. His left cheek bulges as he chews on his mouthful of cold noodles. “And if I learned a thing or two, it is to never trust you when you say ‘nothing’.”

“Exactly!” Naeun exclaims. “Sunghoon, you tell her to stop using the same excuse every time, it’s so obvious when she’s lying.”

“Oh, shut up, Nae.”

Sunghoon rips open the package of his chocolate bar and breaks it in half. “Here,” he places it on your tray. “You like cookies and cream.”

You bit your lip in hopes to suppress a smile. “Thanks,” you say coolly, taking a bite out of it. 

“Anyway,” Naeun grins, a glint of mischief in her eyes. You glare at her, already dreading what’s to come. “Got anyone to go to homecoming with, Park Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon leans back in his chair, stealing a glance at you. “No. I don’t want to go.”

You almost spit out the contents of your mouth at his blunt statement. “What? Why?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “I’ve got no one to go with?” 

“Well, you can go with me if you want to,” you murmur, afraid to raise your voice. 

“What?” Sunghoon tilts his head, eyes staring into yours. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing!” you quickly say, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I-I’m going though.”

It’s now Sunghoon’s turn to be confused. “Huh? I thought you weren’t going.”

“Yeah! I-I wasn’t going to… but Jaeyun asked me… to go with him,” you utter each word with complete caution, eyes going back and forth between Jennie and Sunghoon. “And I’m… going with him.”

The world pauses for a second, and you don’t realise you’re holding back a breath.

Jennie gasps, happiness causing her to beam. But at the same time, you couldn’t shrug off the pang in your heart when you witnessed, from the corner of your eyes, Sunghoon’s expression morph into something you’ve quite never seen before.

Was it jealousy? 

“Double date!” Jennie gushes, her eyes crinkling with laughter. “God, I’m so happy! I can finally go to homecoming with my best friend!”

You give Jennie a half smile. 

“...have you told him?” Sunghoon asks, somehow struggling to force the words out of his mouth. 

“Who?” you reply, turning to him. 

“Jake.” 

You purse your lips, then shake your head. “Nope. I’ll tell him after school, though.”

Sunghoon nods, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than it usually does. Then, he turns to his lunch and finishes it in silence, ignoring the conversation buzzing around him. 

AFTER the last lesson of the day ends, and the teacher walks out, you get ready with the books and stationery you need for studying.

“Let’s go?” Jake taps your shoulder, smiling widely as always. You perk up, a question popping in your head. Does he ever get tired of smiling?

Seeing him twinkle, you’re instantly reminded of the plan you made with the twins.

“Oh, okay!” you reply, quickly standing up to start packing up your bag. “Wait for me at Jennie’s homeroom.”

“Alright. I’ll see you there.” Jake nods, and struts out, which leaves you realising that it’s only you and the ridiculously good-looking boy sitting in front of you, Sunghoon, left in the homeroom. 

“Where did the others go?” you mutter to yourself, grunting at how your cheeks are starting to warm up. 

“Where are you going?” Sunghoon asks, his tone careful and slow. You look up, and he’s already staring at you, something in his gaze that you can’t pinpoint. 

You swing your bag over your shoulder. You give him an innocent smile. “I’m… going dress-shopping.”

“With Jake?” he asks. 

You nod slowly. 

“Y-yeah. And Jennie.”

“Have you told him you’re going to hoco with him?”  

You sigh. “No, I haven’t. I’m a bit embarrassed to… tell him.”

Silence floods the two of you. Though, this time, the silence was overwhelmingly uncomfortable. There was some kind of tension that hung between you and Sunghoon, and you know precisely what caused it.

“Hmm,” is all you get from your best friend after a few moments of awkwardness, that involves you standing straight near your desk, unable to move as you await his response. 

“Do you like him?” Sunghoon asks, standing up from his chair. His height towers above you, and you gulp in nervousness. 

“No?” you say, “I don’t. Wait, I mean, I-I do. But I like him as a friend.”

“Like how you like me?”

Your eyes widen as if a nuclear bomb was dropped in front of your face. 

“L-like what?”

Sunghoon chuckles, ruffling your hair. “I’m joking, pumpkin.”

Memories flood your vision, goosebumps racing against your skin, upon hearing the childhood nickname; vivid like it happened yesterday. 

You clearly remember your six-year-old self, sitting at his house’s dining table with a seven-year-old Sunghoon. The two of you were having lunch together after his mom picked you two from preschool. 

You always had a strong dislike for pumpkin, and everyone around you knew that, but Sunghoon didn’t. 

So when his mother asked what the both of you wanted for lunch, Sunghoon had eagerly requested for the porridge—and you innocently agreed, not knowing that the porridge he ardently asked for was pumpkin porridge with rice balls. 

Sunghoon held his stomach, laughing loudly. “You look so funny, Y/N, it’s just pumpkin!”

“Shut up!” you yelled. “I just don’t like the taste!”

“Oh dear,” Sunghoon’s mother rushed to you. She picked up the bowl of pumpkin porridge in front of you. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t know—would you like something else?

“It’s okay, auntie!” you insisted on a small voice. “I’ll just eat the rice balls.”

Sunghoon laughed his soul out in the background, still finding your revolted expression upon eating the pumpkin porridge extremely funny. His mother shook her head, patting your head. 

“You sweet girl—it’s alright. I’ll cook you something else, okay? Do seafood pancakes sound delicious to you?”

You give her a big smile, nodding. “I’ll love that!”

And for the rest of that year, Sunghoon insisted that he called you pumpkin.

“Gosh,” you whisper shakily, “I haven’t heard that nickname in a while.” 

Sunghoon smiles—and it’s as if, in this entire universe, it’s only you and him. It’s an unexplainable feeling; it’s as if time had stopped, and everything else around you froze—and he’s the only one for you. 

“Hmm? I thought I’d call you pumpkin,” he jokes, “since, you know, your face looks as orange as the porridge that day.”

“Hey!” you exclaim, “it’s been so long! Don’t remind me of that!”

Sunghoon lets out a train of laughter—and it rushes through you like a refreshing breeze, reminding you of your never ending feelings for him, and how his laughter is one of the things you’d never get tired of hearing.

“Come on then,” he urges you to walk out of the class. “We have a dress to find.”

You follow his lead, your brows knitting with each other. “Huh?”

Sunghoon looks back at you for a second, smiling while he’s at it. 

“I’m coming with you to buy your hoco dress. I mean, I’m sure your mother wouldn’t get mad at you if you’re going out with me,” he says, as your legs freeze, unable to move. You’re dazed at Sunghoon’s presence. Everytime he smiles at you, you’re smitten—and it’s as if your entire body is in love too. 

“I’ll pick your dress for you if you don’t come! I’ll pick the most horrible one!” Sunghoon yells playfully from the corridor, causing you to jolt awake from your trance. “And I’ll tell Mrs. Lee, you’re going out without asking her first!”

“YAH!” you scream, swiftly dodging tables and running out of the classroom to catch up with Sunghoon. “Wait for me, Park Sunghoon!”

“HERE,” Jake hands you a cup of mango yakult boba, accompanied with a smile that you wish you didn’t notice was a little bitter. It must’ve been because Sunghoon’s here, standing beside you.

You sigh, recalling that Jennie had whispered about it to you when you were in the bus. 

“What?” you ask him. 

“Take it,” he insists. “It’s on me, so don’t worry.”

You nod thankfully before poking the straw into the cover of the drink to take a sip. Though, before your lips could even touch the tip of the straw, Sunghoon gets himself a big sip of your drink. Bewildered and stunned, all you could do is watch and let your lips form a twitchy smile as Sunghoon perks up from an angle slightly lower than your eye level.

You gulp, suddenly nervous at the close proximity. 

“This is good stuff,” he says with a grin. 

Your eyes shift quickly between Jake, who’s standing right in front of you, shock painted all over his facial expressions; and Sunghoon, who’s standing to your right, grinning like he’s just scored the winning goal for the inter school hockey competition.

“Hoon!” you smack his arm, “this is my drink—you didn’t even ask!”

Sunghoon keeps his grin on. “I mean, you wouldn’t even finish it,” he shrugs. “Plus, you prefer strawberry flavoured things over mango, right?”

You watch with guilt as Jake’s facial expressions morph into a shameful expression. He lets out an “oh”, and he looks away.

“It’s okay, Jaeyun,” you say, offering him a smile, which makes him rebuild eye contact. “It’s not that I don’t like mango. I do! Just that I prefer strawberries.”

Jake nods attentively. “Ah, okay. I’m sorry—I’ll remember that from now on.”

“Okay, guys! Enough of this awkwardness,” Jennie says out loud, looping her arm with yours. “We’ve only got a few hours to shop for Y/N and I’s dresses, so get your asses up and moving, boys.”

The four of you then walk through the mall, window shopping to find your dresses. Jennie, of course, is the most excited. She practically drags you and Jake around, Sunghoon tagging along. 

You naturally enjoy the experience of shopping with your girlfriend. It’s certainly a refresher—sipping on your boba drink as you browse through a wide selection of eye-catching dresses. Though, every time you look to steal a glance at Sunghoon, there’s this off-putting feeling that you can’t quite name—and the reason as to why is evident, displayed right in front of your eyes. 

Every time you make eye contact with Sunghoon, you notice a challenging aura blazing through. It’s as if he’s purposely making it hard for Jake; as if to dare him to prove that he’ll be a good date to you.

Honestly, you think to yourself, it’s just one night. It’s not like I’m dating Jake for real.

And you wonder too, why Sunghoon is making such a big deal out of it. 

Even though all of you are shopping for homecoming at the last minute, everything’s certainly going well.

“Heeseung’s going to bawl his eyes out when he sees you in this dress,” you say with a sparkle of melodrama. Jake chuckles, while Sunghoon simply nods disinterestedly, his eyes glued to his phone.

You marvel at how beautiful Jennie is—her beauty is enhanced with the purple dress she’s wearing. It’s exactly her vibe—a lilac baby doll dress with ruffles and puffed sleeves—soft and dainty. 

“Buy this one,” Jake says.

“Okay!” Jennie happily nods. “What about you, Y/N?”

You’ve tried on several types of dresses in many different colours—jade, champagne red, and light pink. Though, none of them thoroughly suited your taste.

“Jaeyun,” you say, causing the boy to perk up and look at you with slightly widened eyes—not expecting his name to be called. “What do you think?”

“M-me?” 

You smile and nod, ignoring Sunghoon’s piercing gaze. “Yeah, you.”

“I-I mean, I don’t know,” Jake stammers, “why are you buying a dress though? I thought you weren’t going to hoco.”

“Well…”

“You stupid idiot, she’s going with you!” you hear Jennie shout from inside the changing room. 

You don’t know why, but some feelings of delight wash through you as you watch Jake’s lips form a wide smile. He laughs, awkward and strained at first, like he doesn’t believe it’s true. Though, gradually, he gets up and pulls you into a hug. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs breathlessly into your shoulder as you pat his back. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Jake pulls away from the hug, and for the first time, you see tears form at the edges of the basketball prodigy. 

And, for the first time too, you see Sunghoon looking away from you. 

“Jen!” you whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down as much as possible. You and Jennie are in the changing room, the latter helping you to put on dresses. Out of all the dresses you tried—the light blue ball gown dress, the lavender mini dress with bow details, and many other bodycon and babydoll dresses—none caught your eye. 

Except for one. 

A simple midnight blue dress, adorned with pearl details and sparkly lace; one that Sunghoon picked out. At first, you weren’t sure if it’d suit you, but after trying it on, you were baffled by how you look. The dress fits you perfectly, highlighting exactly where it needs to be.

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask, pulling your hair out of your dress. 

Jennie nods, an adoring look on her face. “Girl, everyone will be smitten.”

Of course, you didn’t believe her at first—but the look on Sunghoon and Jake’s faces made you second guess yourself. 

Sunghoon’s eyes stop blinking, and his lips part slightly. Something feels stuck in his throat, and everything dawns on him. 

You look absolutely magical.

He can’t pull his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries. You are his best friend, the person he feels most comfortable with. And now, it hits him like a truck. 

You’re breathtaking. 

To his left, Jake is completely blown away by your beauty. The edges of his mouth twitch, indecisive as to whether he should smile or not. His pupils widen as he takes in the view of you, realising that you really are more prettier than he thought you were. 

“So,” you finally say, pretending to not notice the two guys’ gazes on you. You smile at Jake, not forgetting to spare Sunghoon a glance. “How’s this?” 

You twirl in front of the mirror, examining how the dress hugs your frame. “I don’t know,” you murmur. “Does this look weird?”

Jake leans forward from his seat, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Weird? Y/N, if you show up to homecoming in that, I might have to fight people off for you.”

His direct response makes your eyes widen and a snort escaping your lips. Jennie, who’s standing next to her brother, merely grins. 

You swat at Jake. “Be serious, Jaeyun.” 

“I am,” Jake winks smoothly. “You look gorgeous.”

A wave of heat rushes up your cheeks—the way Jake looked directly in your eyes, the word gorgeous slipping out of his tongue like it’s easy for him to say. You look away, redirecting your gaze to Sunghoon, slightly overwhelmed by the way Jake’s smile seems to tell you that he means everything he said. 

Sunghoon, who had been sitting silently in the corner, shifts in his seat. He doesn’t say anything, but his jaw flexes. He simply looks at Jake, then at you, before looking away. 

You press your lips into a thin line. 

Something in Sunghoon’s behavior bothers you. 

You turn back to the mirror, smoothing the fabric of the dress with your hands. “Hoon,” you say, looking at him from the reflection of the mirror. “What do you think?”

His eyes meet yours in the mirror, and something unreadable flickers across his face. He holds his gaze for a second before turning to his phone.

“It’s fine,” he mutters, loud enough for you to catch. 

You frown, glancing at Jennie, who’s wearing a bewildered expression on her face. 

“Fine?” you ask. 

Jake scoffs, putting down his drink that he’s been sipping on. “Dude, that’s all you got? She looks stunning, and all you gotta say is ‘fine’?”

You bite your lower lip, watching as Sunghoon grits his teeth. The grip on his phone tightens. “I said it looks fine,” he repeats, sharper this time. “I mean, you look great, I guess.”

A pause. 

You gulp, exhaling shakily. 

“Okay…” you say, dragging the word out as you turn back to the mirror. You sigh.

Why are you feeling this way—defeated, disappointed, and angry, even? Sunghoon is just your best friend, and you’ve been friends since you were in first grade. He’s not your boyfriend, nor do you think he’ll ever be—so why are you so upset?

Jennie walks up to you, squeezing your shoulders in some kind of solace. She smiles. “Let’s go check out other dresses—or do you want to buy this one?”

You glance at Sunghoon. 

“Let’s buy this one?”

You and Jennie giggle before turning to the shop employee to discuss further about your dresses. After you turn away, Jake sighs. 

He looks at Sunghoon, leaning in. He drops his voice so only Sunghoon can hear. “You know, if you wanted to compliment her first,” he says, his words stinging. “You should’ve spoken up.”

Sunghoon stares at his phone stoically, not reacting at first, but his fingers begin to curl against his knee. He does not say anything, and the tension stays in the air, unsettled between them. 

You jog back towards them a few minutes later, happily smiling at the purchase. The feeling that stings your heart when you look at Sunghoon still lingers, but you’re too jolly about the beautiful dress that’s now yours to don. 

Jake sits up straight, his smile mirroring your beam. He watches you and Jennie animatedly gush about your dresses intently, contrasting with the way Sunghoon is quietly staring at you, pretending like he’s not interested. 

At the end of the day, Jake was the one you playfully swatted, the one listening intently to every word you say—and Sunghoon was the one you looked at, waiting.

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon, Thank you for picking out the dress for me. I think I like it a lot. Obviously because it’s not what you picked out but anyway! I’m nervous. Not because I like Jaeyun or anything. It’s just the general homecoming thing. You know, the surroundings and the partying… I hope I can handle it. I’ve got nothing against Jaeyun, he’s very sweet and kind, but I do still wish you’re my date instead.  Why didn’t you ask me to be your homecoming date, Hoon? Did you know how desperately I have been waiting? Did you know how guilty I felt to be brushing off Jaeyun every single time he asked me to go to hoco with him? Look at me now. I’m his date for tomorrow.  Hoon, I wish I had the courage to tell you. I wish I was brave enough to tell you that I like you, and that I don’t care if it ruins our lifelong friendship. I wish I was fearless enough to ask you to homecoming.  I wish I was better. I don’t know if I’m good enough for you, but if you ever need a girlfriend, or a wife one day… I’m here. Always.  Sent 23:00 PM, 3rd April. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Sunghoon,  It’s homecoming.  Jaeyun’s going to come and pick me up soon—in like half an hour. I got the girls over, to help with makeup and all. I feel gorgeous, Hoon, but I wonder if you think so too.  I wish the person who’d come and pick me up to go to homecoming today was you. I really want to see you in a suit—oh God, I know just how good you’ll look. Honestly, even in a hoodie and sweatpants, you look stunning.  Sent 17:35 PM, 4th April. 

“Y/N! Sweetie, Jake’s here!” you hear your mom call from downstairs. 

“Coming!” you shout back, shoving a lipgloss and a pack of tissues into your purse before rushing downstairs. 

The sound of your feet thudding against the stairs causes Jake to turn around, and his eyes immediately widen.

His eyes sparkle as they gaze on you, and he looks as if he’s never seen someone as beautiful as you. He stands respectfully by the stairway, giving you a polite smile.

“Hi,” you greet Jake, leaning into his side hug. Jake is smartly fitted into a neat suit with tie, and a corsage is tucked perfectly into the pocket of his chest. He hands you a matching one. 

“Do… you want to wear this?” 

You make eye contact with Heeseung, who’s standing by the door with Jennie. He nods, and you turn to Jake. “Sure.”

He fastens the corsage around your wrist, his touch gentle and careful. “Is it okay? If i-it’s too tight or anything,” Jake says, “tell me.”

You pat his shoulder. “It’s fine, I’m good. Thank you, Jaeyun.”

Heeseung drives all of you to the conference hall of Decelis Academy, where the homecoming will be held. Upon arrival, Jake opens the door of the car and helps you out. 

Feeling slightly overwhelmed hearing the faint music coming from inside the hall, you turn to Jake. “So,” you say, slowing down your walking pace. “What do we usually do at hoco?”

“Hmm, there’s a concert by our school band—you know Jay? He used to be the lead guitarist,” Jake explains. “His girlfriend, Han Jihyeon, is the main singer. They’re sickeningly cute, in my opinion.”

You chuckle and nod along, recalling several moments where you’ve seen the couple interact with each other at school last year. 

“There’s also plenty of games,” continues Jake. The two of you walk together into the hall, and as you reach the door, he opens it for you. “Oh, and you don’t have to dance if you don’t want to, you know.”

You nod, bracing yourself for a chaotic night. 

After taking pictures with Jake, Jennie, Naeun, and Heeseung, you find yourself retreating to the refreshments section of the conference hall. Jake left to play games and dance with his friends, as well as reconnect with his old buddies who have graduated. At first, he felt guilty to leave you alone, but you insisted he go enjoy himself so much that he gave in. 

You bring out your phone and adjust your hair, which your mom had put in a half updo adorned with a sparkly white ribbon. Your makeup tonight is bedazzling too, and you admit, for once, it made you feel more beautiful than ever before. Kudos to Jennie and Naeun for being your makeup artist. 

“Y/N!” you hear Jake call for you. You look towards his direction, seeing him quickly approaching you. 

“Yeah?” you answer, fidgeting with the empty plastic cup in your hand. 

“Do you want to come and play some games?” he asks. He grins confidently, but he quickly adds a stammering, “I mean, i-if you want to.”

“Honestly, I don’t really want to,” you reply, “but since we’re already here, why not?”

You watch as Jake’s uptight and polite expression transforms into a bright smile. “Okay!” he beams, grabbing your arm. “Let’s go!”

You don’t know if it’s Jake’s luminous grin or if it’s the games that are fun, but you enjoyed almost every minute of the games you played. You found yourself laughing amongst Jake and his friends, and found them to actually be decently nice. You too found yourself sharing many greasy yet fulfilling snacks with Jake, bonding over random things such as physics, iconic movies and so on. 

When the time to go home comes around, Jake escorts you to Heeseung’s car and waits until your brother comes. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs as you lean slightly against the car, “I had a really good time tonight.”

You give Jake a smile. “Of course,” you pat his shoulder. “I also enjoyed tonight a lot, surprisingly. Thanks for asking me out.”

Jake laughs shyly, the corner of his eyes crinkling along. He rubs the back of his neck. “Y-yeah! You’re welcome… and you know, I think we should hang out sometime?”

“With Hoon?” you inquire—immediately regretting it after, realising the meaning behind his words.

“Um–” Jake lets out an awkward chuckle. “Sure, alright.”

He smiles, more genuine and confident this time. “But I’d like it if it was just the two of us.”

The breeze blows, and you realise that you’re wearing something so revealing on an early spring night. You push your hair out of your face and rub your bare shoulders with your hands, in an attempt to warm yourself up. “It’s really cold tonight,” you laugh. 

“Oh, yeah,” Jake agrees, swiftly removing his suit jacket and placing it on your shoulder. He stands right in front of you—and you notice, then, how tall he is—and adjusts the placement of his jacket on you. “Is it better now?”

The scent of honey, cinnamon, and freshly baked apple pies mixed with a faint touch of expensive cologne attacks your senses. You pull Jake’s suit jacket closer to your body, attempting to combat the cold winds. “Yep! Thank you so much, Jaeyun.” 

“Jake!” you hear Heeseung call from a distance, interrupting something Jake was about to say. Your brother—accompanied by Jennie—quickly approaches the two of you, giving Jake a brief handshake. “Thanks for waiting with Y/N.”

Jake places a hand on his chest before nodding slightly. “Of course. The pleasure’s all mine.”

“Thanks for coming to homecoming with my twin brother, Y/N-ie,” Jennie says, giving you a hug. “We finally get to take pictures together. I’ll send them all to you, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” you nod, mirroring Jennie’s smile. “I’ll see you later, Jen.”

“See you!” she exclaims before linking arms with Jake. “Come on, my feet hurt from all the dancing.”

You watch with a huge smile as the twins walk away to their ride. 

Jake rolls his eyes. “Who told you to wear heels?”

Jennie simply gave her twin brother an annoyed look. “Shut up. Beauty is pain.”

“Anyway, we have to go now,” Heeseung says, pulling your attention back to him. 

“Mom will kill me if I don’t get you home before midnight,” he continues, nudging you with his elbow. He opens the car door, signalling for you to get in. “Come on.”

“Bye, Jaeyun, Jen!” you say as you get into the car. 

Jake sends you a soft smile along with a nod. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

“WHAT the hell,” you breathe shakily. 

First, you forgot to return Jake’s suit jacket to him before he left.

Secondly, you’re barely done with your nighttime after-shower routine when you hear knocks on your window. 

Quickly wiping your hair dry with a towel, you rush to your window, the damp towel still in hand. You push the curtains open, only to be greeted with a vision of Sunghoon, leaning against the glass with a grin on his face. Your eyes widen with shock.

“Park Sunghoon!” you exclaim hushedly, immediately opening the window to let him in. 

“Thanks,” he grumbles, effortlessly climbing into your room. He lands with a soft thud, and he stands patiently, waiting for you to close the window. 

“God, you gave me a heart attack,” you say. “What are you doing here? It’s cold outside, you know? How did you even manage to climb up here?”

“Eat,” he replies, instead of answering your questions. Sunghoon then hands you a plastic bag filled with goodies—and you perfectly know what’s inside. 

“What’s this?” you ask nevertheless, grabbing the plastic bag. 

Before you could even open the plastic bag, Sunghoon excellently answers, “Pocari Sweat, cream cheese with salmon kimbap and ice cream.”

A wide grin immediately emerges on your face, much to Sunghoon’s satisfaction. “Oh my god!” you exclaim, sitting down on the heated floor. “I’ve been craving this.”

“You always do, especially after a long night,” Sunghoon murmurs, more like to himself, as he sits down across you, leaning against the wall. 

Unnoticed by you, Sunghoon stays silent as he watches you eat heartily; your facial features highlighted by the warm light of your bedside table.

Something caresses his heart. Some kind of feeling… It makes him feel full and content.

“Switch on the lights, I swear to God,” Sunghoon sighs. 

“No,” you shake your head, cheeks filled with kimbap. “My parents are going to think I’m still awake. Plus, this kind of ambiance makes me sleepy.”

“And?” Sunghoon raises a brow, amused. “Do you want to eat while sleeping?”

“No!” you insist, swallowing a big bite of kimbap. “I want to make myself sleepy so that I can sleep as early as possible.”

Sunghoon snorts. “It’s 12 o’clock, Y/N. What kind of ‘early’ are you talking about?”

He laughs cheerfully—still keeping a low volume—as he dodges a pillow from you. 

“I mean,” you defend yourself, mouth still full of food. “At least it’s earlier than 5 o’clock.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, laughter still lingering around him. “Whatever you say, princess.”

Princess. 

A nickname that rolls off Sunghoon’s tongue so comfortably. It’s an old habit—stemming from an incident that happened when the two of you were kids; where Sunghoon had deliberately called you ‘princess’ just to annoy you, knowing that as a seven-year-old, you wanted to be a dragon warrior when you grew up, not a princess.

Though, the same nickname used by Sunghoon for years to no end still gives you plenty of butterflies and heart-fluttering moments. By logic, you should’ve gotten used to it by now, considering the absurd amount of times he called you by that. 

The two of you sit facing each other, faces lit by the dim light of your mushroom shaped lamp. You and Sunghoon sit in pure silence, the sounds of breathing and occasional satisfactory humming coming from you due to the food filling the atmosphere. 

Sunghoon looks at you attentively—the way you melt into every bite of food that you enjoy; the way that you sit cross-legged in front of him, vulnerable and authentic. It’s just you and him—the pure and bare you; your face naked with no makeup on, your shoulder-length hair let loose, the bangs framing your face perfectly as it should. 

“Goodness, I’m so tired,” you groan, laying down on the floor with an almost finished ice cream in your hand.  

Sunghoon scoffs, adjusting his lean against the wall. “You’re going to choke on that ice cream.”

You throw him a glare. “Shut up.”

Sunghoon merely chuckles, shaking his head. 

“So, Y/N,” Sunghoon says after a moment of unbroken eye contact, caused by him intently watching you try to eat ice cream while laying down. “How was it?”

You immediately sit down. “Hoco?”

Sunghoon nods. “Yeah. Was it fun, with Jake?”

“It was okay. I unexpectedly enjoyed it more than I wanted to,” you reply, finishing your ice cream. “I do think I prefer night-ins to binge watch dramas or movies—like To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, or Emily In Paris—don’t you think?”

Sunghoon smiles briefly. He nods, “movies are more of your thing, I think.”

“Anyway, I’m glad I went,” you continue, “I’m in my senior year—we’re in our senior year, and we won’t get to experience something like this anymore. It’s actually fun!”

Sunghoon sighs as he shrugs. “Homecoming’s not my thing. I thought… I thought it wasn’t yours either.”

You look at him, staring at his features a minute longer. “I-I mean, it still isn’t. I just went because Jennie and Naeun insisted I go.”

“And because Jake did too?”

“Oh, um,” you stammer, “not really. I-I mean, I’ve been shrugging him off for a while now. I even rejected him for prom last year, remember?”

You swear you saw Sunghoon smirk for a split second. He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m surprised someone even asked you out.”

“Why?” you roll your eyes. “You think I’m not pretty enough?”

“You are.”

“What–”

“You’re too pretty, people are afraid to ask you out.”

Silence. 

You stare at Sunghoon, your childhood best friend, with widened eyes. He looks back at you, firmly connecting the eye contact with some kind of determination and genuineness you’ve never quite seen before. 

It took a while for you to finally form a response. 

“Oh. Um..”

Sunghoon stands up. “Well, then, sleep well. I have to go now.”

“S-so soon?” you blurt out, flabbergasted. 

Sunghoon smiles softly. “I have practice tomorrow. Come watch.”

“Of course, I always do,” you nod eagerly. You didn’t know when it all started, but for as long as you remember, Sunghoon and you had always been each other’s biggest supporters. You never really missed any of his hockey matches and most of his practices; and he never truly missed any of your music recitals too. 

Your cheeks blush at the thought, and all you could do is gawk at Sunghoon as he ruffles your hair.

“See you later, princess,” he says, pushing your window open. “Sweet dreams.”

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Hoon! I’m so excited! A four-day school trip is really what I needed—just spending time with friends with no worry of anything at all… it must be fun. I hope it’s going to be just like how it is in the dramas; where all we do is play games, maybe sort out treasure hunts and eat delicious food all day. I heard the fee’s going to be quite a lot, so I really do hope the activities are worth attending for.  Also, I think I need to restock on sunscreen and some other stuff. I want to ask Heeseung to take me to Olive Young, but if I’m not mistaken he has a resume to work on and my mom’s not letting him go out until he gets that done.  So… Okay, I’ll just text you if you want to go. Hope you do, and hope you won’t think it’s weird or anything! Sent 11:09 AM, 8th April. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Hoon!  Tomorrow is the trip! Ahhh, I’m so excited! I don’t know why I’m very excited for this year’s trip when I went on one last year—maybe it’s the fact that I’ll be spending it with you, for the last time; maybe it’s the fact that I know I’m going to treasure every single moment of this 4-day trip… I don’t know for sure.  This year, we’re going to Gyeongju! I’ve only been there once, with my grandmother in second grade’s winter break, and I loved it there. I’m sure you’ll like it too.  Hoon, thank you for being my friend. You’re such a miracle, a gift to humankind. Also, stop treating me so kindly? It’s… making me delusional.  Sent 20:13 PM, 8th April. 

From the beginning, the senior’s trip is already fun—but the first activity requires something that you somehow dread. The teachers that came along organised a scavenger hunt at the villa that your batch was staying at—and, of course, you’re paired up with Sunghoon for it. 

The tasks were simple but a little tedious, obviously requiring two people. You breezed through them fairly well, but it doesn’t quite help that you’re constantly biting back a smile, remembering how you slept on his shoulder the entire bus ride there.

It also doesn’t quite help that Sunghoon is smiling at you every time you finish a task, looking at you with all of his attention when you’re talking about the next clue. 

You and Sunghoon finished second place, which was not too bad—you were a bit bummed out, considering that the team that finished first was just a few seconds faster than you and Sunghoon. But you weren’t given too much time to dwell on that, because as soon as the scavenger hunt wrapped up, it was time for your tour of Gyeongju.

And, of course, a classic from the dramas had to happen to you. 

You were taking pictures with Jennie and Naeun at the Bulguksa Temple, all giddy and happy due to how pretty it is. 

Then, all of a sudden, it starts pouring. 

Everyone runs for cover, and you’re a bit too slow to catch up with your friends. You try your best to run, eyes squinting as the rain pours down. Suddenly, you’re pulled to your side. You gasp, widening your eyes as you realise that it’s Sunghoon. He pulls you under his jacket, his arms holding it up for the two of you. You hold your breath in, realising how close your face is to his—your nose is barely brushing his. 

He guides you to a hut nearby, where some students are gathered. You gulp—face hot despite the rain bringing stinging cold against your skin. 

“Didn’t know you care so much,” you joke, laughing breathlessly as you attempt to lighten the tension in your shoulders. 

Sunghoon looks at you, holding his gaze for some time. Something difficult to interpret flashes through his eyes for a second. 

“You have no idea,” he mutters before gently pushing you under the roof. 

You watch him, heart thumping loudly against your chest, as he ties his now wet hoodie around his waist, avoiding eye contact. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Park Sunghoon,  What’s going on with my heart? Why does it accelerate so quickly when you’re around? Why does it feel like it’s going to jump out of my chest every single time you hold my hand?  Oh my God. I think I’m going insane.  I can still smell your cologne in the air.  What did you do that for, Sunghoon? I mean, I know it was raining hard and you know I get cold easily… but couldn’t you have just given me your hoodie or something? Anyway, Bulguksa Temple is pretty, isn’t it? Oh my, I’m going to write more when we get home. I can’t really type with my friends around… it’s weird. Also, I have to go get some medication because I think I’m sick from the rain.  Sent 21:00 PM, 9th April. 

“I swear to God, this is so annoying,” you mutter under your breath as you grab onto a light pole for support. You’ve been sneezing non stop for the past hour, and now you’re on the way to the pharmacy near your hotel to get some medicine. Though, it’s really hard and troublesome for you to walk there with constant sneezing and a throbbing headache.

The autumn night wind blows, and you immediately regret wearing a thin cardigan out. 

Why aren’t hoodies in my reach whenever you need them? 

“Y/N!” you hear someone yell your name, footsteps approaching from behind. 

You turn around, surprised to see Jake sprinting towards you. He arrives in a matter of seconds, panting as he catches his breath. 

“Jake?”

“Call me Jaeyun, I said,” he recalls in the midst of his heavy gasps for air. 

“Okay, fine,” you huff, “why are you here, anyway?”

“You’re sick,” Jake says, standing up straight. “Our rooms are two rooms away from each other and I can hear you sneeze all the time. Your nose is red too.”

“Oh,” you purse your lips. “Y-yeah.”

“You’re wearing something so thin too, aigoo,” Jake sighs. He promptly takes off his hoodie, leaving him bare with a white t-shirt underneath. He smoothens the hoodie out and hands it to a flabbergasted you. “Wear this. It’s not too chilly out, but you’re sick so you have to keep warm.”

“Oh,” is all you manage. You then wear Jake’s hoodie as instructed, and the scent of honey and cinnamon engulfs you again. “Thanks. I-I feel a lot warmer now.”

“Good to know,” he says, smiling delicately. “Then let’s go and get you some medicine. We still have two days of the trip, and tomorrow we’re going to Cheomseongdae Observatory. I’m sure you wouldn’t wanna miss it.”

You nod, returning his smile. “Okay then, let’s go.”

Your plan to quickly grab medicine and run back to the hotel as you promised your teacher is completely wrecked. Now, you stand behind Jake at the cashier counter as he pays for your painkillers. 

“Done,” he says, smiling again. He lifts the bag of medicine to his face and shakes it gently. “Look.” 

The thought of doesn’t he get tired of smiling? rushes into your head as you nod. You reach out your hand to take the plastic bag away from him, but he pulls his hand away at the right moment.

“What?” 

“Let me hold it,” he says. Then, he wraps his left arm around your shoulder, leading you out of the pharmacy. “Let’s go eat some ramen?”

“N-now?” you ask him. 

Jake nods enthusiastically. “Mhm, now. You have to eat before you take paracetamol.”

Seeing that he’s actually guiding you to the convenience store a few blocks away, you try to stop him—though he’s a little too strong for you. 

“Jaeyun, you don’t need to eat before taking paracetamol,” you address. 

Jake chuckles. “My mom always told me to eat something warm before,” he answers, “I know you don’t have to, but it makes you feel good. So, why not?”

Maybe it’s Jake’s smile that’s so bright it convinces you to sit down at the convenience store, slurping away instant noodles with him beside you. 

“So good,” you groan, melting into every gulp of the noodles. 

Jake grins. “Told ya.”

“Does it make you feel better?” 

You nod, smiling wide. “It does! I mean, I don’t think it can beat my mom’s chicken soup, but this will do.”

Jake laughs, casting a warm atmosphere around the two of you. He throws his head back, and his smile is so big and cheerful it makes you giggle too. “Sorry I couldn’t bring you your mom’s chicken soup, or at least an authentic one. I can’t get caught venturing further than this.”

You chuckle. “It’s alright. I’m grateful enough that you bought me both my medicine and my food.”

Jake smiles, yet again, at you. “My pleasure.”

“So, Y/N, I heard you play violin,” Jake says after silently watching you finish your cup of noodles. 

“Yeah,” you confirm, cleaning up your things. “I do. Why?”

“Nothing,” Jake replies, “I’m not really into instruments, but my mom and dad used to make me go to piano lessons when I was in elementary school.”

“Lucky,” you giggle, nudging his shoulder. “I wanted to learn piano too, but my dad told me it’d be better to learn violin. I don’t know why, but I guess he wanted me to learn violin because Heeseung oppa was learning piano. Call it ‘variety’,” you laugh. 

Jake chuckles along. 

“So, you know how to play piano, then?” you ask him. 

Jake immediately shakes his head. He raises his hands to his chest in defeat. “A big no! I don’t remember most of it, and I’ve gotten so rusty. I quit piano lessons as soon as middle school started—I got myself busy with basketball so my mom couldn’t bother me.”

You snorted in an attempt to hold in your monstrous laughter. “You’re so petty.”

Jake chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. “Y-yeah, I can be.”

“Y/N!” Sunghoon exclaims loudly as he rushes to you. You had just returned with Jake, and you’re about to get into the lift to go back to your room—when suddenly, Sunghoon emerges and hugs you. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away to examine you. In fact, he pulls away too fast you didn’t even get to feel the warmth of his embrace. “You’re sick? Why didn’t you tell me? Was it because of the rain?”

As if it’s on cue, you sneeze. “Yeah, I guess. Don’t worry though! Jaeyun got me some medicine, so I should be fine.”

“Jake?” Sunghoon inquires, and he finally notices Jake, who’s standing behind you the whole time. 

Jake shrugs, showing Sunghoon the plastic bag filled with medicine that he’s holding. “I was about to ask where you were. How could you not know that Y/N’s sick?”

“Okay, I’m not that sick, Jaeyun,” you retort. 

Jake narrows his eyes at you. “Mhm. I’ll believe you, Y/N. If I didn’t catch you halfway, you’d be hit by a car with all the sneezing you’re doing.”

“But–” 

“Whatever,” Sunghoon scoffs. He sharply snatches the bag of medicine from Jake’s hand. “C’mon, Y/N, I’ll bring you upstairs.”

“Hey–”

Sunghoon grabs your hand and drags you away, leaving no chance for either Jake or you to say a word. He stays silent, and you do too, throughout the five minutes it took the two of you to get to Room 92. 

“Wh-why are we in front of your room?” you ask, panic starting to seep in. You had memorised his room number from the list your teacher had given out to everyone before the trip. “My room’s 99, not this one…”

“I know,” he says, letting go of your hand as he unlocks the door. “Get in.”

You nod, fiddling with the edges of Jake’s hoodie that you’re wearing. “Where’s your roommate?”

“I told Kangmin to crash at Minseo’s room,” Sunghoon replies offhandedly, closing the door shut. He then changes the light intensity of the lamps, making it a comfortable ambiance for you to be in with such a throbbing headache. 

“Why?” you ask, feeling a little awkward. 

“Well,” Sunghoon replies, pausing to look at you for a while. He continues like it’s the most obvious thing ever, “I didn’t want your roommates to be uncomfortable with you sneezing every five seconds.”

You glare at him. “I mean, they didn’t say anything about it!”

“Yeah, because they don’t want a sick person to feel bad when they’re already sick,” Sunghoon retorts. He walks over to the mini fridge under the cupboard and brings out a carton of strawberry milk. 

“Here,” he hands you the milk. “Eat your medicine quickly, then you can go to bed—wait, have you eaten soup?”

Sitting down on the edge of one of the single beds in the room, you sigh. “I have,” you reply, opening the packaging of the straw. “Jaeyun bought me some.”

Sunghoon, who’s about to get in the bathroom, pauses as he looks at you. For a moment, he doesn’t look away. 

“Okay,” he takes a deep breath as he says, before going to the bathroom. 

For a minute, you stare at the strawberry milk in your hands. You can’t help but smile a little—Sunghoon knows that you can’t swallow pills without flavoured drinks to go with it, due to the bad aftertaste; and he knows that your favourite flavour with almost anything is strawberry—your heart flutters, even if just a little bit, at your best friend’s simple gesture. 

You quickly take your designated dose of paracetamol, followed by the strawberry milk; flopping down sideways onto the bed, feeling the exhaustion taking over you. Unable to control yourself, the world around you then goes dark as you close your eyes shut. 

“Y/N? Princess?” Sunghoon calls, his tone softening as he spots you asleep. 

He walks over to you, shaking his head. “I swear, this girl…”

After trying to wake you up several times and failing, Sunghoon decides to just let you sleep on his bed—he’ll sleep on Kangmin’s. With his build, he easily adjusts your posture so it’s more comfortable for you—he tucks you in with the comforter; neatly arranging your medicine and half-finished strawberry milk on the bedside table. 

His tense features relax upon seeing you. 

Sunghoon sits beside your sleeping figure, taking his time to absorb your presence. Some kind of heavy emotions dawn on him—he doesn’t know why or where they came from. Maybe it’s overwhelming affection for his best friend of more than a decade; maybe it’s the emotions suppressed for years. 

Although reluctant, Sunghoon brushes hair away from your face—stunned to find himself admiring every inch of it. Accentuated by the dim lighting of the room, you look extremely beautiful. 

Sunghoon retracts his hand, pressing it against his accelerating heart. 

Why did she have to smile like that to Jake? Why did she have to let him take care of her when I’m here?

For the first time, he realises the heat in his cheeks as he gazes upon you. For the first time in a while, he admits the way his heart tightens, and the way his emotions churn in his stomach as he watches a laugh escape you when you’re with Jake. For the first time in years, he recognises the beauty of his best friend—it’s enchanting, ethereal and everlasting. 

Though, Sunghoon’s extremely worried—and this is the sole reason why he’s been pushing away his own feelings for several years—he’s feared that his feelings would get in the way of your strong friendship. Countless thoughts attack him daily, every time he finds himself admiring you a little too much than he’s supposed to—what if you don’t like him back? What if you think it’s extremely weird? What if you don’t want to be friends with him anymore because you’re uncomfortable with it?

Sunghoon shakes his head, smacking his face lightly to knock himself out of it. He better get rid of whatever he’s feeling before it gets out of control.

At least I get to be close to her at all times. 

Sunghoon then places his hand against your forehead, thankful that your temperature has gone down. The paracetamol was taking effect, and Sunghoon dearly hopes that you’ll be fine by tomorrow morning. 

He smiles at the thought of spending a whole day with you. 

“Shut up, Park Sunghoon,” he mutters to himself. 

“Y/N! Good morning!” Jennie greets you, bringing you into a hug. She raises a brow at Sunghoon, who’s following you as you come out of the elevator. “What’s going on?”

“What?” you ask. 

“Don’t be so dense,” Naeun sighs, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Why did you come out of the elevator with Sunghoon? You were gone last night too—I can’t believe I had to spend a night in a city I’ve never been to alone.”

Your eyes widen—you had spent the night in Park Sunghoon’s room without telling your girls about it. A misunderstanding could happen, and you didn’t have the energy to face one. “I-I accidentally fell asleep,” you say, before leaning close to your friends to whisper, “in his room.”

Naeun makes a disgusted face and Jennie gasps loudly. “Are you kidding me?” the latter shrieks. 

Behind you, you hear Sunghoon chortle. 

“No, no! It’s not what you think it is,” you panickedly say. Then, you add—even though it hurts to say, “we’re just friends.”

Jennie throws a dirty look at Sunghoon, who’s somehow struggling to keep a poker face on. “Yeah, sure. I’ll take your word for that,” she replies with a heavy sarcastic tone. 

“I’ve done it multiple times!” you blurt out, immediately regretting that you worded it wrong—surely, it sounded like something else to your girlfriends. “I-I mean, we’ve been friends since pre-elementary, and we’ve slept together platonically for countless times.”

Naeun chuckles, “whatever.” 

“Oh, also,” Sunghoon says, catching the attention of you and the two girls. “Here, wear my jacket,” he adds, smoothly taking off his varsity jacket, which has P. SUNGHOON and the number 23 embroidered at the back. He grabs your shoulders, spins you around and places the cream and navy blue varsity jacket on you. 

“There,” he says, smiling sillily as he spins you back around to face him. “In case you get cold.”

You suck in your breath through gritted teeth, knowing perfectly the looks given to you and Sunghoon from Jennie and Naeun. Though, as you fight your inner demons that are strongly urging you to squeal your heart out to release the heat in your cheeks, you smile.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you say as you properly wear his varsity jacket. Soon after, your nose buds are graciously attacked by the familiar scent of Sunghoon—fresh and masculine; a floral fragrance with herbaceous sweet undertones, perfectly blended with a warm and earthy aroma of a sweet yet spicy undertone. 

“Hoon,” you ask, “are you wearing the Ralph Lauren perfume I got for you for your 16th birthday?”

He nods, slightly surprised. “You remember?”

Your cheeks warms again, “y-yeah. Well, I did smell it thoroughly before giving it to you, t-that’s why I got it memorised,” you smile as warmly as your cheeks, “I had to give you something that suits you so well.”  

Sunghoon laughs. “Really?”

Actively ignoring the disgusted looks on your friends’ faces, Sunghoon proceeds to pinch your cheeks. “Aww, you love me~” he jokingly coos.  

You mask your true feelings, once again, with a horrified expression. “Yeah, I do,” you admit slowly under your breath.

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon,  I think I just fell in love with you all over again.  Oh God.  Sent 21:45 PM, 12th April. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Park Sunghoon,  It’s been a long time since I’ve sent in anything. School has been quite hectic, hasn’t it? I barely see you after school, now that you’re busy with hockey practice and I’m busy with extra class and orchestra practice. Ahh, I’m so nervous! This is my first time assigned to play in the First Violins! I honestly wish I got to lead it this time, considering the amount of time I’ve played in a concert, but I do think that Gaeul deserves it! She plays violin really well, I’m sometimes envious of her skill.  Oh, we have two concerts upcoming, by the way. One is next Tuesday, for the choir—we’re playing alongside as their background music. I’m the concertmaster for this one! I’m really really really nervous… I’ve been practising a lot, my hand hurts even typing and doing homework! Would you come and watch me play, Hoon?  Sent 20:04 PM, 10th May. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Sunghoon! I think you did well today. Did you notice me in the bleachers? I was at school for a short while today—I wanted to pick up a textbook I accidentally left in my locker… hehehe. Please don’t scold me for being forgetful, I was so engrossed in orchestra practice yesterday. I almost missed the bus too! When I was walking past the ice rink, I saw you playing with your friends. You look so cool… gracefully skating on the ice. You look so determined and skillful. Oh my God, how do you even manage to look handsome and play hockey so well at the same time? I’m speechless… Anyway, I came in and watched you guys play. I sat with Han Jihyeon—you know her? She’s Dongmin’s noona. I talked to her about a lot of things—like how the fall band concert went, and how she’s balancing studies alongside her other stuff. Honestly, I admire her support for her younger brother. She says she’s never yet to miss watching any of his hockey practices and matches… She inspires me to do the same for you! Hehe.  Oh God, I’m so… optimistic for no reason. I act like your girlfriend, even… when I’m not.  You know what? It’s okay. At least I get to be there, admiring you from afar. That’s not too bad, right? Sent 13:56 PM, 11th May. 

AS you’re putting on some makeup, trying to not ruin it due to your shaky hands, your smartphone rings. You glance over and see Sunghoon’s contact name, ‘Baekgu’, calling you. You quickly put your eyeshadow palette and brush down, picking up the call. 

“Hi,” you say, putting the call on loudspeaker. You then set your smartphone back on your table, turning to the mirror to continue your makeup routine. “I’m putting you on loudspeaker, I’m putting on makeup.”

“Okay,” comes his reply. “What time is your concert? Isn’t it at half past five?”

You nod, carefully putting on highlighter and glitter on the edges of your eyes. “Yeah, but I have to get there at five.”

“Want me to pick you up?” 

You snort. “You can’t even drive yet, Hoon.”

You hear him scoff, and laugh at the imagination of him doing so. “I have a motorcycle licence, you idiot.”

“Okay, okay,” you chortle, “but you don’t have practice today?”

“No,” he replies, “I can go to tomorrow’s—you have a concert today, why would I miss it?”

Your pupils dilate, and you pause in the midst of applying blush. “U-um—are you crazy, Park Sunghoon? You’re in the varsity team,” you scold him, “you shouldn’t be skipping any training!”

Sunghoon cackles. “Yah, who do you think I am? I’m Park Sunghoon, you know? One day of no training isn’t a big deal to me!”

To: parksung.h0812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon, I’m so nervous. On Tuesday, we’ll have the orchestra concert—and Miss Jeon, this morning, had suddenly told me that I have to replace Gaeul as concertmaster as she had an accident, broke her arm and was hospitalised, so she can’t play. I went to visit Gaeul just now, and she told me not to feel bad because I’m replacing her, but rather that I should feel proud because Miss Jeon knows that I’m capable enough to be a good concertmaster.  I don’t know… I don’t know if I’ll play well enough. Sent 10:12 AM, 18th May.

You adjust your sitting posture, taking a deep breath of the fresh air around you. You had walked over to the park to clear your thoughts. The concert that you’re going to play in as concertmaster is coming in less than two days, and since it is the biggest concert you’ve ever played in, you’re more nervous than you ever were for any of your previous concerts. 

“Y/N!” you hear Jake’s voice, and as you look up, he’s already making his way towards you. 

“Hi,” he smiles as he greets you. “What are you doing out here alone? Without a hoodie, too.”

You shove your hands into the pockets of your pants, grinning sheepishly. “It’s okay, it’s not too cold.”

“You okay?” he asks as he takes a seat next to you. Jake looks a tad bit reluctant to do so, but the tension present in his features relaxes a little as you give him a reassuring smile. “You look a little off right now. Are you alright?”

You laugh, patting Jake’s arm. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

Jake looks at you, his eyes filled with adoration. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s spring, but lately, he’s constantly thinking about you. Recently, all he’s curious about is if you’ve eaten, if you’re taking good care of yourself, if you’re feeling okay. 

Though, Jake knows that he’s just a friend. Jake knows, perfectly enough, that he’s just your deskmate, who you talk to only out of courtesy or when Sunghoon’s away. 

Spring is the season of love and blossoming feelings, and for Jake, it is wishing that you would see him as something more. 

“I’m just wondering,” you begin, “if I’ll do good enough for the concert. I’m really, really nervous. I feel like my heart’s about to burst.”

“Oh?” Jake tilts his head slightly. “I think you’ll do okay.”

You lower your head. “I don’t think ‘okay’ is enough. I need this to be perfect—it’s my last high school orchestra concert, and-and I don’t think I’ve been practising as much as I wanted to, with all the studying–”

Jake grabs your hand and places it on his heart. It’s racing, beatng faster than you thought it was.

Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub.  

“Here. Can you feel it?”

Too flustered—both from the sudden form of intimacy and the feeling of Jake’s heartbeats against your hand, you find yourself unable to form any words, so you simply nod. 

“This is how I feel every single time a basketball match is about to start, or whenever I’m with someone I enjoy being around,” Jake continues, “it’s as if my heart is running faster than I do… but anyway, my point is that it’s okay to feel nervous, even when you’re doing something you’ve done so many times. You’ve worked hard for this concert, right?”

Jake looks at you, directly in the eye, and he gives you a gentle smile. It’s reassuring and comforting, conveying to you more than his words did. 

“Yeah,” you mumble. 

“Then, you don’t have to be afraid,” Jake says, his voice softer than his usual poised tone, “you’ll do well—just like you always do. If you don’t believe in that, it’s okay. Just know that I believe in you. A lot of people do.”

“Thank you, Jaeyun,” you sigh, after taking a few minutes to process Jake’s words—and the fact that you’re sitting there, with him, hand in hand. 

It gives you tingles, exciting your nerves—Jake’s presence is gentle and warm, even if it’s a little sudden and abrupt. You enjoy being around him, and seeing another side to the well-known basketball talent—who’s always seen as someone who is carefree and laid-back. Honestly, you’re surprised to find out that the caring side of Jake was so much more than just smiling frequently at people. You’re surprised to find that Jake is a soul made out of compassion and kindness, and you’re ever so grateful to befriend someone like him. 

“My pleasure,” he replies, squeezing your hand once. “I’m… glad to be of help.”

You let go of his hand, standing up. “I’m going to go home and practise some more,” you tell Jake, who immediately perks up at your voice. “I’ll see you later?”

“Alright—you don’t want me to walk you home?”

You shake your head, “it’s okay, I can manage.”

Jake nods, and waves you goodbye. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Today’s the day of the concert. I’m very scared, but I’ll try to shrug it off. I woke up super early today, despite not being able to sleep that well last night. I’m all dressed, I did my hair and makeup for school; I even have the dress for the concert all ready. I already double checked my violin and memorised my music sheets (even though I’ll be having them on display for the concert later)... but I just still feel so anxious. Help me, Sunghoon, I don’t know what to do. Sent 6:32 AM, 20th May.

“Hi, Y/N,” Jake greets you, knocking you out of your train of thought. You look to your side and see him hopping off his bicycle, pushing it slowly to match your walking pace. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you smile back, your cheeks itching due to the insincerity of the smile. “Where’s Jennie?” 

“She’s still at home,” Jake answers, “you know her—she’s always out at around half past seven.”

You nod, aware of what he’s talking about. “I see. Why are you out so early, though? It’s only seven o’clock.”

Jake chuckles. “Well I figured I had to start out early to catch up with you. Turns out my timing is perfect today. I always catch you at school already.”

“Yeah,” you give him a courteous smile. “I noticed that too.”

“So, how’ve you been doing?” Jake asks, after around five minutes of silence.  

“I’m fine,” you simply say. You’re lying, as who would be absolutely fine when they’ve got an extremely important and big event coming up in a few hours? Though, you didn’t feel the need to explain to Jake. 

“Are you?” he counters, an eyebrow raised in the following. “I’m really amazed if you truly are, considering that you’ve been balancing studying for midterms and national entrance exams—which at the same time, you’ve also been practising violin.”

You choke out some laughter. “You’ve been observant of me, huh? Don’t think that’s a little creepy?”

Satisfaction and a little bit of guilt washes through you as you delightfully watch Jake’s eyes widen. “I-oh my,” he stumbles over his words the same way he’s tripping on air out of pure embarrassment. He quickly catches up with you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off as a creep, Y/N. I’m just quite… observant, that’s all.”

You chortle, feeling in the mood to tease the five feet nine inches dude walking beside you. “Are you?” you tease, mimicking his accent and the way he said it to you earlier, “then, Jaeyun, tell me what are the ten enzymes in the glycolysis process?”

Jake’s jaw drops wide open. “I-I mean–”

You burst out laughing, glad that you’re finally able to catch him off guard. “Gotcha. Knew you weren’t thoroughly observant.”

“Hey! That isn’t fair, you’re asking me about biology,” Jake pouts. “Who on earth would pay attention in Mrs Nelly’s class?”

“Y/N would.”

You pause in your tracks, shock sending chills throughout your body as you feel Sunghoon’s voice to your right. You look in his direction, and he’s already walking in synchronisation of your tempo. Sunghoon slides his arm around your shoulder, giving you a grin.

“Good morning, princess,” he says casually. 

 You clear your throat, your cheeks coloured pink at the close vicinity. “Good morning, Hoon.”

“Good morning, Sunghoon,” Jake says plainly. 

“Oh, Jake?” Sunghoon tilts his head, giving the basketball jock a taunting yet innocent look—as if he’s just noticed his presence. “G’morning.” 

You manage to catch a glimpse of Sunghoon’s smug face: his left eyebrow raised and his slight  smile was evidently one-sided—directed straight to Jake. 

“Have you eaten breakfast, princess?” Sunghoon asks, turning back to you.

You shake your head, flexing your shoulders to adjust the position of both your backpack and your violin case backpack. “I don’t have the appetite.”

Both Sunghoon and Jake form a perplexed look simultaneously. Sunghoon smacks the back of your head feebly, rolling his eyes. “Yah! What did I tell you? Eat your breakfast!” he scolds, “do you want me to die?”

“What does my breakfast have to do with you dying?” you retort. 

“Well–” your best friend of almost 10 years pauses. “It doesn’t matter, but, c’mon,” he changes the topic, grabbing your hand. He glances at Jake, who’s biting his lips shut, before dragging you away. “Let’s get to school early so we can grab some breakfast.”

“Oomf–” you manage, stumbling. “See you later, Jaeyun!” you give Jake a wave with your free hand. Jake forms a smile upon seeing it, and in return, he waves. 

“ARE you nervous?” Sunghoon asks as the two of you are packing your bags at the end of the day’s lessons. 

“Well, if you can’t tell,” you joke with a deadpanned expression, zipping your school backpack shut. “Yes.”

Sunghoon runs a hand through his hair, smiling meekly. “I mean, you’re so good at the violin, so I didn’t think you’d be nervous.”

“Are you insane?” you gasp, smacking the 12th grader’s head. He blocks your hit effortlessly with his arm. “It’s my biggest concert as a freaking concertmaster!”

Sunghoon grins. “So? You’re going to ace it either way,” he grabs you, and before you could react, puts you in a headlock. He ruffles your hair aggressively. “Won’t you?”

“Hey!” you scream, frantically pulling yourself away from him. Luckily for you, his grip is purposefully loose, so you quickly stand back on your feet. “What was that for?”

Sunghoon merely smiles—it’s gentler and comforting this time—as if he’s silently reassuring you that everything will go just fine. 

“Y/N,” Jake calls, shattering the moment you’re having with Sunghoon. You quickly turn to face him, unaware of the grim change in Sunghoon’s expression. Jake hands you a canned ice lemon tea. “Here, um, I don’t know if you like lemon tea or not–”

“I do!” you animatedly beam. Jake sighs in gratitude.

“...thank God. Anyway, I got this for you, my grandma said that tea’s good for calming your nerves down,” Jake continues. 

“The sugar will make her energetic anyway,” you hear Sunghoon mutter grumpily behind you. You’re not sure if Jake hears it, because the smile on his face is unwavering. 

“Thanks,” you say. Jake nods, and before he can say anything in reply, Sunghoon snatches the can of ice lemon tea in your hand. 

“This looks good,” he muses, his smirk evident. You turn towards him, confused. What is he really trying to do? “I’m gonna have some, eh?”

You wear your backpack, shrugging. “You do you, Park Sunghoon. I’m going to go now, I’ve got to get ready for the concert.”

“Wait up!” Sunghoon exclaims, running after you. 

SUNGHOON runs into the waiting area of the orchestra pit’s stage, 15 minutes before the concert starts. He tries to spot you—or simply anyone he knows to help him find you. He sees plenty of people: a group of violinists, another group of people tuning their cellos and violas. His eyes scan through the crowd, and spots you in a corner, pacing here and there to calm yourself down.  

“Y/N,” he says, a little softer than he intended. You turn around—the ankle-length black skirt creating a flower around you as it swirls, your hair gently hitting your face. Sunghoon clears his throat in an attempt to drive away the fluttering butterflies in his stomach. 

“Oh, you look beautiful,” he blurts out, leaving you wide-eyed and as flustered as he is. 

“T-thanks,” you manage. 

Sunghoon takes a deep breath, hesitating at the last minute. He brings out his arms and pulls you into a hug, embracing you in his warmth; at the same time stepping over the line he’s placed between himself and you. He lingers around longer than you expect him to, and when he finally pulls away, the tip of his ears are flushed red. 

“You’ll do great,” Sunghoon whispers, squeezing your shoulders in hopes of channeling the confidence he has in your ability, to you. “I know that.”

You smile warmly at him. 

This is why you can’t stop falling in love with him—Park Sunghoon—your own best friend. He knows you so well, probably even more than you know yourself. He knows exactly when you need anything, and perfectly how you need things. He makes you feel like it’s so easy to befriend you—like loving you is the easiest thing in the world, even if it was platonic. 

Everything is simple and easy when you’re with Sunghoon. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Dear Sunghoon,  I haven’t been writing to you in a very long time—I hope you’re doing okay. National state exams are coming in less than a week, and I’m a total nervous wreck. I’ve been studying every single day, but I don’t know… I wish I planned things out better. I don’t know if I’ve memorised everything, if I’ve reviewed everything, and if I’ve done enough practice questions.  I’m laughing at myself right now. So ironic, right? I’m Decelis Academy’s prodigy, the so-called “academic weapon” of our school, but I can’t even get studying right.  I haven’t been studying properly these past few days. I can’t even open my eyes… my head hurts and nothing makes sense. I don’t know, Sunghoon. I wish burnout didn’t exist. And I sincerely hope that you’re not going through the same thing as me.  Sent 12:48 PM, 9th November. 

To: parksung.h0on812@gmail.com From: sincerely/n@gmail.com Hoon, Why am I like this? Why can’t I study properly? Every passing minute I feel more like a failure. Why can’t I memorise anything? I’m so dumb. So stupid.  I don’t know anymore. Sent 8:03 AM, 10th November.

Sunghoon grabs a coat and quickly heads out of his house, desperate to get fresh air. Studying has gotten his head clogged, and for the first time in a while, he believes that burnout is real. He hasn’t even been to two weeks of hockey practice, and that is significant for someone like Sunghoon. 

He grabs his smartphone out of his pocket and opens one of the only pinned contacts in his messages—you. He’s worried; you haven’t texted him back in three days. And knowing you, Sunghoon guesses that you probably forgot to respond to him due to your intense studying. 

Since he’s already out and about to talk a walk, he might as well grab a refresher or two and visit you. Sunghoon stops by a cafe near your school, one that he specifically knew to always have your favourite strawberry danish. He buys two of them along with two cups of lemon sprite, swiftly catching a taxi to arrive at your house faster. 

After sitting down, Sunghoon texts you. 

hey, have you had lunch?

And to his surprise, he gets a response within three minutes. 

Though, it wasn’t from you. 

sunghoon, this is heeseung

y/n’s in the hospital

she collapsed 

the doctor said it’s bc she hasn’t eaten properly the past few days

He couldn’t believe what he was reading.

His heart stops for a split second. The world around him starts spinning rapidly as he tries to process Heeseung’s messages. His hands start to shake, making it hard for him to type a response to Heeseung. Fear starts to creep up on him, and malicious thoughts fill his brain. 

Sunghoon shakily calls out to the driver to change the route and bring him to the hospital—his heart banging loudly against his chest every second of it. 

“LEE Y/N!” Sunghoon’s scream echoes through the hallway of the hospital as soon as he enters. His vision blurry with tears, he storms in with shaky fists, ignoring all the judging eyes on him. He approaches you, standing right next to your bed. 

“Hoon?” you say, confused. You’ve been awake for half an hour, so you didn’t feel entirely weak. You’re leaning against the bed frame with a pillow propped behind your back, an IV drip to your left hand. 

“Why do you always do this to yourself?” Sunghoon whimpers, every word he utters weaker than the previous one. “Why do you always neglect yourself? Why do you always treat yourself badly? Do you not care about yourself? Do you not care about me… about how I feel when you do this?”

You watch, horror painted across your face, as tears rain down Sunghoon’s cheeks. He utters every word with pain laced onto every letter, and by the time he manages to force the last bit out of his throat, his knees go weak. Sunghoon is on his knees, his hands tightly gripping the sides of the hospital bed. Tears flow uncontrollably from his eyes, staining his handsome porcelain face.

“Hoon,” you call gently, causing him to look up. The expression on his face, his sparkly eyes filled with pain and agony broke your heart. “What… what’s wrong?”

The response comes out of Sunghoon, slow and weak—yet it is sincere, straight from his heart. 

“I can’t lose you.”

“I-” you’re torn. You’re so sure Sunghoon doesn’t see you as someone more than his best friend, yet why is he bawling his eyes out, on his knees, in front of you? He looks like someone who’s almost lost his significant other—yet you’re sure that Sunghoon simply sees you as his childhood buddy. 

Though, you can’t hold it in anymore—your heart breaks at the sight of Sunghoon, the boy you’ve loved for years to no end, in tears because of you. You collect every bit of energy in your body and hop off the bed, crouching to his level. 

“Hoon,” you mumble, grabbing his hands. “Look at me.”

Sunghoon follows, and once again, it breaks your heart to stare into his eyes, now red and tear-stricken. 

“I’m here,” you say, staring straight into his eyes. “Okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

You fight back a smile, reminiscing at a distant memory—one where you comforted a nine-year-old Sunghoon who was wailing the living daylights out of himself, due to you being sick and absent from school for three days. He thought he lost you, that you had moved away and would never come back. You remember pulling him into a hug at the school playground, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

Though, as the two of you grow up, Sunghoon never really cried. It’s always been you—crying during sad movies, silently weeping when you get a grade you wished was higher, sobbing when violin classes were a little on the harder side—and Sunghoon had always been the one there to listen and comfort you. Well, quoting a ninth grader Sunghoon, he said men aren’t supposed to cry.

This was the first time you’ve seen him cry, in years. 

Sunghoon looks at your hands, and when his eyes land on the one with the IV drip, tears begin to rain down again. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

“What are you sorry for, Hoon?” you ask. 

Sunghoon lets out a heart wrenching sob and pulls you into his embrace. It’s sudden yet warm and tight as if you’ll disappear if he lets you go. You let him sob on your shoulder, though you’re still wondering why seeing you in this condition makes him seem so heartbroken.

A glimpse of hope flutters its way in.

Perhaps Sunghoon harbours the same feelings as you.  

“Y/N!” you hear Jake’s voice, and as you look up, you see him in front of you. His chest is heaving up and down, catching his breath. 

“Hi,” you smile. “Did you run here?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I was at extra class. Then, I heard from Jennie that you’re…”

You chuckle sheepishly. “Yeah… I’m sorry if I made you worry,” you say, glancing at Sunghoon—who’s asleep by your side, his head propped against the bed. 

Jake looks briefly at Sunghoon, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Am I interrupting something?” 

You widen your eyes, quickly shaking your head. “No! I mean, nothing’s going on. He’s just tired.”

Jake presses his lips into a thin line, nodding along. “Where are your parents? Heeseung?”

“Oh, they left to get lunch. They should be back soon,” you reply, “I forced Heeseung to make them go, ‘cause I know my mom loses her appetite entirely if anything happens to me or my brother.”

Jake nods. He approaches your bedside table and places a plastic bag filled with fruits inside. “Here, I bought some fruits. They should replenish your energy pretty effectively.”

“Why? Is it because they contain a high level of glucose, fibres and antioxidants?” you jest, giving Jake a lopsided grin.

Jake stares at you, blinking his eyes rapidly in confusion for a few seconds. “Oh,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. He smiles a little. “Well, true, but fruits contain natural sugars that can be broken down into glucose. They don’t contain, like, plain old glucose.”

You break out in fits of laughter. “Oh my, someone has been doing his studying well!”

Jake laughs, lowering his head to avoid breaking into a larger eruption of laughter. “Well, I need to study, unfortunately,” he says, after gaining composure. “The entrance exam isn’t going to write itself, is it?”

The two of you exchange smiles. You then look away, shifting your gaze from one object to another while trying to come up with a subject to talk about—as it has become quite awkward as both you and Jake don’t know what to say. 

“So, um, are you feeling okay?” Jake asks, his eyes flickering between your face and the IV drip taped securely on your hand. 

You nod. “I’m okay now. I ate two strawberry danishes,” you giggle, pointing over to the opened packaging of the pastries on the bedside table. “Sunghoon bought them for me! Wah, how does he know exactly what I’m craving for? I haven’t eaten these in so long!”

Something stung Jake’s heart, seeing you talk so animatedly about a tiny gesture made by Sunghoon. The big smile on your face and the higher pitch of your voice tells Jake everything he needs to know about how you feel towards your childhood best friend. 

You like Sunghoon, more than what friends are supposed to. You love Sunghoon, on a much higher level than what friends would do. 

“Why do you like strawberries so much?” Jake asks.

You chuckle awkwardly. “Um. I don’t… really… know how to answer that? I’ve always loved strawberries since I was a kid.”

“Was it because Sunghoon gave you a strawberry when you guys first met?” Jake probes even more. It was just a guess, but he wanted to see your reaction to it. 

Your pupils dilate abruptly. “No! No… no, obviously not. The first thing he ever gave to me was a Bumblebee action figure. He thought it’d be a good replacement after breaking the Kung Fu Panda figurine Heeseung gave to me,” you answer, chuckling at the old memory.

“You remember every moment very clearly,” Jake points out. 

“Oh! Um. Well… that’s because…” you end up simply cheekily smiling at Jake, as you didn’t know what the appropriate response would be.

“You like Sunghoon,” Jake states so curtly it makes you choke on air. 

“Don’t you?” he adds to further push the answer out of you. Jake knows what your answer would be, though he needed to hear it from you.

Your cheeks pink, you spend a good minute staring wide eyed at Jake, not knowing how to respond to such a thorough revelation. You’ve never witnessed this side of Jake before—fierce, determined and harshly curt—his polite and bright smile turned into a sharp and alluring gaze.

“It’s complicated,” you end up saying. 

“You believe he doesn’t like you,” Jake continues. His words hit hard like a bullet, attacking you in every aspect. 

You gape at the 12 grader in front of you. How was he so observant, or are you just too obvious and easy to figure out?

“Yeah…” you sigh. “I mean, friends aren’t supposed to like each other. There are so many better girls out there for him, so I doubt he even sees me more than a childhood best friend.”

Pause. 

“And there are better guys for you, out there, too,” Jake says softly. 

Before you’re able to process the harsh reality in Jake’s words, he hits you with another bullet—a brutal offensive straight to the heart. 

Jake takes a deep breath, determined. 

“I like you.”

Slowly, you look up to meet his eyes. The pair of brown eyes are filled with firm sincerity, as if he’s giving it all; never backing down. 

“Date me,” he says with a firm tone that tells you perfectly that he’s serious about it. “I’ll treat you better than anyone ever will.”

“I-I–” you stammer, unable to look Jake in the eye. 

“Try dating me for a month,” he suggests, his tone gentler than before, almost shaky. “I’ll show you how well I’ll treat you.”

You force yourself to meet Jake’s eyes—finding some desperation lingering around. He’s firm and resolute, yet you could actually hear his voice shaking. “If you still don’t like me after that, reject me. I’ll be content… with your decision.”  to be continued...

― © htaesan, 2025.

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ check out PART TWO

[yanderedrabbles]

✨Kicking my feet and twirling my hair thinking about what cozy basement set up boyfriend would have for me!✨

What are your OCs homes like anyway? Do they like certain decor? Does it smell a particular way? Trinkets lying around?

Yandere boys and their homes

Yandere! Cowboy keeps his boots by the door and his old ropes stacked in the entryway. Definitely a whitewashed farmhouse with an old wraparound porch. There's an old deer skull above the fireplace and a couple of hunting rifles on the wall. He likes the view and most mornings he'll drink his coffee with his elbows resting on the porch railing. He likes it when you pick wild flowers and leave them in vases around the house, but he'll never actually tell you that.

Yandere! Soldier's current apartment is pretty old, probably built back in the Soviet era. He doesn't really keep stuff around - he's always moving and being deployed so he doesn't see the point in keeping trinkets. If it wasn't for you, he'd be perfectly fine sleeping in the barracks. Function over everything.

Yandere! Boyfriend's place is honestly pretty cozy. He keeps plenty of throw pillows and afghan blankets. Lots of wooden furniture - most of it he made himself. It's a pretty manly place, but without being overwhelming. Usually smells like vanilla and fresh baked bread. His basement is totally remodelled, with genuine hardwood floors and fairy lights strung across the beams. It's the perfect place to curl up and watch a horror movie, if you ignore the heavy duty locks on the door.

Yandere! State Trooper is pretty young so his apartment is a bit of a mess. He has police gear dumped all over the place. Mostly Ikea style furniture, modern if a bit bland. The only thing he really added was a hook on his headboard to loop your handcuffs through - he can't have you struggling too much and disturbing the neighbours, now can he?

Yandere! Cop for sure has a bachelor apartment with just a bedroom and kitchen. Very neat and clean but pretty boring. It's one of those newly built places with lots of marble and millennial grey. Besides, he's way more interested in buying you whatever you want for your place. His single piece of decor is a scented candle you gave him. He sometimes lights it after a really long day.

Yandere! Gangster has a shitty New York apartment for sure, exposed brick and one of those noisy old fashioned radiators. It's clean but cluttered and there's basically only two rooms. And the worst part? Rent is still ridiculously high.

Yandere! Incubus has a cell in the abbey. It's almost too neat. Almost like it's not lived in. There's a crucifix above his bed and an uncracked bible on the nightstand. His one concession is his collection of dried flowers. Don't touch - they're all poisonous.

Yandere! Desert Bandit is nomadic and needs to move quickly from one hideout to another. He usually stays in a bayt-al-shar with woven rugs on the floor and oil lanterns burning in the corners. It's much larger than you'd expect and surprisingly warm, even through the icy desert nights. It smells of wood smoke and oud.

Yandere! Academic Rival is a thrift hoe and he knows it. Lots of antiques. He especially loves furniture with plenty of engraving or detailing. He either stays in an uptown penthouse or townhouse that his parents own. Spoiled litte brat.

Yandere! Apocalypse Survivor doesn't stay in one place for too long. And he usually picks places with very few entrances. So be prepared for lots of concrete rooms with boarded up windows.

Yandere! Greek Champion is always fighting, so expect everything from confiscated manor houses to canvas military tents. If he ever returns home, you'll find a villa stuffed with treasure from his conquests. Rare furs and rich tapestries and gleaming bronze urns, built with lots of marble columns and open balconies. He has his own bathhouse and he'll spend hours soaking in the steam, his muscles finally relaxing after months of battle.

[daisymbin]

OKAYY BUT HEAR ME OUT bf2l mingyu where they’re both *ahem* secretly love eo but their dynamics have always been *bantering and teasing* but one day oc just went 36. "i couldn’t imagine my life without you in it." and mingo just 15. 40. "don’t look at me like that unless you mean it."😵‍💫

FUXXXXXX the way I would crumble if this happened to me irl grrr... thank you for this amazing prompt req!!!

full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // gyu's m.list

fluff prompt #36: "I couldn't imagine my life without you in it." +

suggestive prompt #40: "don't look at me like that unless you mean it."

it was a quiet afternoon when you called mingyu, expecting to catch up and maybe grab lunch. you hadn’t heard from him in a little while, and a lazy lunch sounded perfect. but when he picked up, his tone was a little off, almost too casual.

“hey, are you coming over for lunch?” you asked, leaning back in your chair, a teasing grin forming.

“nah, i can’t today, im busy” he replied, his voice warm, but there was something else there you couldn’t quite place.

“busy? with what?” you teased. “since when do you have anything to be busy about?”

“i have important things to be busy with,” mingyu protested back, the playful tone creeping in, though it didn’t sound like his usual carefree banter.

“important, huh?” you raised an eyebrow, suspicious. “like what? where are you?”

“at mom's— i mean, your mom’s,” he said casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “fixing the light bulbs and making lunch.”

“wait, what? why?” you were confused, your heart skipping a beat. you loved mingyu, but you didn’t expect him to be over at your mom’s fixing things without you. “did something happen? why didn’t she call me?”

“obviously she loves me more,” mingyu teased, his voice full of mischief. “why else would she call me and not you?”

you rolled your eyes. “does that mean i need to go over there and fight for my spot in her heart?”

mingyu chuckled on the other end, and you could almost hear his grin. “you can try, but i think i’m her favorite.”

you laughed, but you couldn’t deny the little flutter of butterflies in your chest. “fine, but i’m still coming over for lunch.”

when you finally arrived, mingyu was standing in the kitchen, a pink apron littered in butterflies tied around his waist, looking way too comfortable in your mom’s space. your mom was just finishing up, heading out the door with a “remember to lock up before you leave, you two!” as she waved to you both.

you raised an eyebrow at mingyu as he set down a plate of food. “you really came all the way over here to fix the light bulbs and cook lunch for my mom?” you couldn’t help but laugh, but there was an edge to your voice. it wasn’t exactly jealousy, but something close to it.

“what can i say?” mingyu shrugged casually, though his smile was warm, teasing. “she knows i’m handy. and besides, who wouldn’t want to hang out with someone as handsome as me?”

“right,” you deadpanned sarcastically. “handsome. so so so handsome.” but despite yourself, you smiled.

you both ate together in a comfortable silence after your mom left for her pottery class, and the moment she left, a different kind of silence hung in the air. your heart felt heavy, and mingyu noticed.

he set his fork down and looked at you, his gaze softening as you tried not to meet his eyes. “what are you thinking about?” he asked gently.

you hesitated, suddenly feeling a little too exposed. it wasn’t like you were about to tell him you had feelings for him — feelings that had been there for far too long. but the moment felt significant in a way you couldn’t explain. “i just… can’t believe you’re here,” you said, your voice quieter than usual. “i can’t believe you came over to help my mom just because she called you.”

"don't be jealous of your mom," mingyu half whined as he teased.

"it's not that," you said softly.

mingyu looked at you, his eyes narrowing as if trying to read you. “what do you mean?”

you let out a breath, feeling a little awkward now. “i mean… i couldn’t imagine my life without you in it.” the words came out before you could stop them, and you regretted them the instant they left your lips.

mingyu froze. his gaze softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes — something more than just his usual teasing, more than just the easygoing best friend you had known for years. he swallowed, his lips slightly parted as he tried to process what you’d just said.

“wait,” mingyu said, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “like… in your life as a best friend or...?”

you blinked at him, feeling your heart race. you weren’t sure what to say, your throat tightening as his eyes searched yours. the air around you both seemed to hold its breath, like the world was waiting for you to say something, anything.

“like...” you trailed off, feeling all of your unspoken feelings rise to the surface. you couldn’t stop yourself. “more than that, mingyu.”

mingyu raised an eyebrow, clearly still a little nervous but trying to play it cool. "stop that," he laughed it off, “don’t look at me like that unless you mean it, you know.” his tone was light, teasing, but there was a quiet intensity beneath it that made your stomach flip.

you took a deep breath, stepping closer to him. “i do mean it,” you said, your voice steady now, filled with certainty.

mingyu’s eyes widened for a moment, and then a familiar smirk tugged at his lips, though there was still a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. he leaned back slightly, crossing his arms, as if trying to hide how affected he was. “do you now?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

you nodded slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. “i do,” you whispered.

mingyu didn’t move, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, as if he was fighting with himself. but the tension in the room was palpable, and before either of you could say anything more, he closed the distance between you.

his lips were warm and soft against yours, hesitant at first, like he was unsure of how to kiss you, unsure of how you wanted it. but you kissed him back, slow and gentle, savoring the moment like it was something fragile.

mingyu pulled back just a little, his forehead resting against yours as he breathed in. “do you really?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

you smiled, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. hmm, you hummed in acknowledgement.

mingyu kissed you again, this time more confidently. his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel the heat building between you. his lips moved against yours with a sense of urgency, as if he couldn’t hold back anymore.

your hands found their way to his neck, fingers threading through his hair as you deepened the kiss, feeling the electric pull between you. mingyu’s body pressed against yours, the kiss growing more intense, more urgent.

“gyu...” you gasped between kisses, breathless.

he pulled back just enough to catch his breath, "i love it when you call me that," his lips brushed against yours lightly. “you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low and filled with desire. "because once we start, I won't be able to stop."

“yeah,” you murmured, your voice shaky. “i’m sure.”

with a low growl, mingyu kissed you again, this time with no hesitation. his hands slid down your body, pulling you even closer as the world around you seemed to disappear. it was just the two of you, finally giving in to everything you’d both been too scared to admit for so long.

[sageispunk]

red lipstick (18+)

↳ "Don't let your husband stop you from finding the love of your life"

pairing: Maintenance Man! Terry Richmond x blackOC! Alisha Bryce

wordcount: 2.2k

warnings: infidelity, oral sex (m receiving), use of handcuffs, switch! Terry & OC, Daddy kink, lipstick kink, messy bjs, pouty desperate!Terry bc I wanted to

A/N: this is like basically a random part for this AU I've been fixated on for a minute, still not sure if I want to do chronological series or just a bunch of loosely connected oneshots but I'll figure that out l8rrrrr!!! lmk in the comments if you enjoyed this, also pls like + reblog, feel free to follow my notif blog @sageispunklibrary for updates!!!

“C’mon baby, you can do better than that.” 

Alisha kept her gaze on the man, down on her knees in the fancy, red, low-cut dinner dress he’d bought for tonight. The lights were low and her mouth was full, throat nearly stuffed with her lover’s manhood. He sat on her sofa, leaned back with his bare thighs spread apart on the orange velvet, one arm thrown across the back as if he owned the place. 

Terry was big–thick and long, unforgiving. She held her hands together down in front of her, wrists bound together by the fuzzy black cuffs he found while peeking through her nightstand drawer earlier in the day, as new as the day she bought them. 

She hummed as she took most of him down her throat, leaving only about an inch of his warm brown skin exposed to the chilled air. She could tell that wasn’t enough for Terry, not right now at least. He was desperate, aching for a release and she would be just that. 

She felt his hand on the back of her head loosely tangle itself in her long brown locs, fingertips lightly massaging into her scalp. With a sigh from her nose, she closed her eyes and relaxed herself, allowing him to stroke his hips up into her throat, bringing her precious cherry-tinted lips just a little closer to his base each time. Saliva dribbled out from the corners of her mouth, dripping down off her chin and onto his heavy balls. She could feel her thighs sticking together, the heat between them building with each passing second. 

“You can do it, mama…take Daddy’s dick down that throat…”

His sweet, daunting voice echoed in her mind, keeping her grounded in the moment. She loved it when he talked to her like this, so rough and dominating–manly. Not to mention using the handcuffs that had been sitting in her drawer for months, brand new and awaiting the perfect opportunity. Now, her dreams were being fulfilled. It was everything she was missing with Isaiah, and that fact only made her more eager to please him, pushing herself to her limits every time they fucked, and then some. 

“Look at me, Lisha.” 

Terry watched as she obeyed his command, breathless as he took in the scene before him. This perfect, nasty, brown-eyed beauty kneeling for him, worshiping his dick like it was all she’d ever needed. All that consumed her mind, day and night. He knew that it was, the same feelings growing within her and dictating her every move, he felt in himself. They were on the same level again, and he’d be damned if another motherfucker got in between them after this. 

He couldn’t help the moans that evaded him as she finally throated his entire length, not breaking eye contact as she nuzzled her nose into his trimmed pubes. For over twelve years, the man’s life had been structured around maintaining self-control and mental strength, but there was nothing or no one on this planet that made him feel as weak as Alisha did in this very moment. 

His bottom lip found itself clenched tightly between his pearly whites, a crease growing between his eyebrows while he took everything she gave him. She pulled up off his dick, slowly sliding back up with red lips, glossy with spit and precum.

“I missed you.” 

Alisha didn’t plan to say those words, but her nerves were soothed when he reciprocated the statement, his gruff voice hitting her ears and vibrating through her chest. She loved the strain in his voice, in his eyes, knowing that she had his tough exterior breaking down made her feel…powerful. On top of the world. 

Terry’s other hand came to her cheek, caressing her gently as he stared into her eyes, slightly pouting at the sight of his rock hard dick standing up right next to her face. 

He subconsciously made it jump, stealing her attention away. She watched it twitch in front of her, a hungry look growing in her dark eyes as her mouth watered. She needed to feel him stretch her again, her lips, her jaw, her throat. She just needed him inside again. 

Alisha leaned forward and her pink tongue darted out, licking a slow trail up the vein on the underside of his dick. She circled the tip of her tongue around the throbbing head, specifically avoiding his needy, leaking hole. Terry groaned from above, losing his restraint the more she avoided his most sensitive spot. His head was filled with nothing but echoes of pleas, anguished cries for her to relieve him. All he needed was her tongue. 

She smiled, watching his thighs flex and feeling the grip of his fingers tighten in her roots. She pressed her lips against the tip,  firm enough to leave a smudge of red lipstick against the brown flesh. A mark of her love. Craning her neck down, she aimed for a new spot: his balls, heavy and full of cum that he’d reserved for her and her only. Over three weeks apart and he found that nothing matched his freak quite like she did…not even his own hand would suffice.

Terry bucked his hips up when he felt her soft, sticky lips on his sack, leaving yet another beautiful stain. “Lishaaa, fuck!” 

He was supposed to be the one in charge at this moment, yet he felt like he had the least power, even with Alisha in handcuffs. He threw his head back, a loud groan escaping his lips as he found himself writhing, unable to take the teasing. This girl had his goddamn toes curling just from kissing on his balls. 

“Look at me, Terry.” 

Her sweet voice met his ears, gentle and delicate, with a hint of deception laced into her words. He returned his gaze to the woman, seeking some sort of solace in her deep brown orbs. As big and tough as he was, he was not prepared at all for how Alisha wanted to play with him tonight. For the last couple weeks, all he’d fantasized about was breaking her down all across her place…leaving his mark on her, in her, all around her. 

But here she was, beating him right to it. 

Alisha sat up on her knees a bit, not bothering to fix the cleavage spilling from her dress before leaning forward to plant her lips on the skin near his hip. They both stared at her nearly perfect lip print, eyes low and full of want. “Baby–”

“Take these cuffs off me, Terry. Let me take care of you like you take care of me, please.” 

Terry paused, searching her eyes for any hints of mischief but he came up short. Sitting forward on the sofa, he brought his hands down in between them, pulling hers up into his lap. He clasped both her wrists with his left hand, using his right to take his chain off, a shiny silver key dangling in front of her greedy eyes like the world’s last golden ticket. 

It was as if time slowed down, the air seemed thick and heavy, a cloud of desire extinguishing any sense of hesitation in the pair. They both watched as the key slid inside, twisting and releasing the lock with a soft click. The cuffs fell to the floor but Alisha’s hands remained, suspended in his hold. Terry’s eyes came back up to meet hers, intense and unrelenting as he pulled her closer. 

He swallowed down her gasp when their lips met, his eyes fluttering shut as he relished in both the softness and the slight taste of himself. Terry’s tongue wriggled into her mouth, passionately dancing with hers in a battle for dominance. They moaned into one another, lips melding together seamlessly, a reminder of how perfect they are together. 

Alisha pulled her hands from his grasp, slowly so as not to be noticed. Her slender fingers found his length, stiff and weeping for her. A thumb lightly tapped the stickiness on the head, and she grinned into the kiss at his sudden twitching. She rubbed light circles on it, attentive to the way his mouth began to fall open as she pulled back from the kiss, not bothering to slow her movements on his delicate tip. Her left hand fell back to his balls, holding them and only slightly squeezing the warm sack in her palm, just as she’d wanted to earlier.

“Does that feel good?”

His nod was barely noticeable, but she caught it. Just as well as she caught the quiver in his bottom lip when she squeezed just a bit tighter. 

She kneeled down between his thighs again, bringing her face back closer to what she’d needed most. Not wanting to waste anymore time keeping him on the edge, she dived in, removing her thumb and replacing it with her hot tongue. She reached her right hand up to one of his small brown nipples, rubbing his own stickiness from her thumb into the hardened bud. Terry’s body jerked up, attempting to crumble in on itself while her hungry tongue swirled around his tip. “Ohh shiiiiitttt, Lish, please, fuck!”

Her head dropped into his lap, her other hand coming up to rest on his thigh while his dick slid into her throat with much more ease than before. She bobbed up and down, savoring his taste on her tongue and his cries in her ears. She felt so in control, taking him down to the hilt each time, moaning and drooling around his thickness like a slut. 

“Baby, that shit feels–mmmm–so motherfuckin’ good, I swear to god…” Terry groaned out, his brain growing fuzzier while she went down on him like she’d been starving for his dick. She gagged and slurped and hummed around him, all the while looking up at him with those perfect, teary eyes– like a wet dream come to life. His big hands gripped the edges of the sofa while he tried to hold on to the little bit of self-control he had left.

Alisha came up once more, letting him fall out of her mouth before she refocused her attention on his balls. Both hands wrapped around his dick, steadily jerking him as she sucked and licked on his sack, not caring to wipe away the spit across her cheeks and chin. She was being messy and nasty and she didn’t give a fuck about embarrassing herself because she knew that Terry was loving this side of her as much as she did. 

He palmed his face, cursing under his breath as he felt himself at the edge once again. His legs trembled as he tried to hold on, to savor the feeling of her hands and her mouth on him again after so long. There was nothing he needed more but to be surrounded in her warmth, physically and emotionally. He longed to be this close to her, this vulnerable with her, always. 

She released his balls with a gentle pop!, continuing to jerk him off with both hands from the base to the tip. “Cum for me, daddy…” She stared i​nto his eyes, finding herself lost in them, in him. “I need to taste you, please.”

Terry relaxed as her soft whispers hit his ears, the combination of her dirty words and the yearning that was revealed in her eyes helping him over that peak. “Lisha, I’m–” 

She quickly put her mouth on the head as he tensed up underneath her, both his cries and her moans filling the room. The taste of his nut on her tongue had her nearly cumming herself, her thighs subconsciously grinding together as she listened to his whining above. 

“Oh my god, ohmyfucking–fuckkkk…” Terry’s usual rough, baritone voice was higher now, sweet and shaky as he panted out and emptied himself in her. His vision was teary but he tried to stay focused on Alisha between his thighs. She took everything that he gave her, slowing her hands down on his dick while swallowing down nearly every drop of his seed. The filthiest image of tonight seared itself into his mind when she smiled up at him, licking the spare cum off her fingers with more smeared on her plump pink lips. 

She giggled softly, watching the big man come back down to Earth, his dick softening back to its usual form. His gaze was soft now, the love he felt for her shining right through his long eyelashes. As the intensity of the moment calmed down, she became more aware of her sore knees on the carpet, but especially her bare, aching pussy underneath her dress. Terry noticed her shifting and immediately straightened up, leaning forward to pull her up into his lap. “C’mere, love..” She sat on his left thigh with her legs stretched out across his right, burying her face into his neck. “You did a good job, baby…made me feel so good, thank you.” 

He spoke his praises into her hair in between kisses, rubbing a large hand up and down her exposed back. She sunk into the feeling, head still hazy but paying more attention now to what her body craved from him. Terry gently laced his fingers in her locs, pulling back to find her eyes again. 

“You gon’ let me take care of you now?”

taglist: @megamindsecretlair @harmshake @uniqueoutlierblog @notapradagurl7

@planetblaque @urfavblackbimbo @brattyfics @hotmessexpressssss

@soft-persephone @blowmymbackout @sweettea-and-honeybutter

@wakandamama @avoidthings @mzindependent

(lmk if u wanna be added/removed from this, i just went through my other terry fic rbs)

i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 2

James Potter x Reader

Summary: After receiving a mysterious letter left under your door, you begin to search for the culprit…

Warnings: Extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, some subtle wolfstar action in the background, reader plays hard to get without intending to, idiots in love, potentially a slow burn, oc!friends, lovesick!james x salty!reader, no use of Y/N, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, NOT EDITED!

Word count: 1.7K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“Has anyone got any better ideas?” James asked, slumping against the wall of his dorm room with desperation plastered across his face. An hour into the school year and the Marauders were already failing in their attempts to woo James’ crush.

“I don’t know, Prongs. We’ve established that you can’t just approach the poor thing and ask her to marry you, THAT would be a horrible attempt at a relationship. You also can’t stalk her the entire year, that’s illegal.” Peter pondered, looking concentrated in thought. “James,” Remus broke his silence, “You’re a smart boy under that flirty exterior. You get good grades and you know how to write. Why don’t you just write down how you feel and pass it along?”

“Remus…you genius.” James replied with complete sincerity, dashing to hug the boy who might have just saved his chances with you. “That’s perfect! She won’t feel expected to respond, I can say all I need to say without tensing up around her, and I don’t even have to expose myself if she doesn’t like me back! It can be anonymous, yes!” James rambled as he searched his desk for a spare sheet of paper and a quill, ignoring the silent glances his friends gave to one another, teasing him mentally.

A sweet baby blue envelope was retrieved from his stack of correspondence material, lined on his desk as he began to write. “Looks like we don’t need to tell you what to say then, Prongsie?” Sirius commented to the quiet room as all four of them attended to their own business. James hummed in reply, tongue sticking out from his lips in concentration as his eyebrows dipped together. “Just have…to get this…right…” he murmured, pouring his heart out onto the paper.

Not too subtle, but refined, like a gentleman. Not too pushy, but still explicit in his feelings. Anonymous, but hinting at who your new secret admirer could possibly be. A flourish of shifting paper filled the quiet air as James tucked his note into the envelope, finally scribbling your name on the surface.

Stood in front of your dorm room, James shifted his weight from his left foot to his right as he weighed his options. Your uncharacteristic chatter could be heard from behind the wood, though all he could make out were his friends’ names and an unmistakably annoyed tone hung on your words.

“James” you continued, and his heart began to swim laps around his chest. You sounded confused and frustrated as you rambled on, allowing James to take a beat as he collected himself.

Your voice softened, and he took this as his call to action. He slipped the note beneath the door and pursued the safety of his own dorm before he could get caught.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“EHEM! ‘To the only creature I could ever admire,’” Charlie began her dramatic reading of the mysterious note left under your dorm room door. “I have the greatest honour in being met with your stunning eyes, soft skin and quiet personality everyday when I pass you in the hall. The classes I share with you are moments in which my heart flutters at the sound of your gentle voice. The intelligence you hold and your refined sensibility could never be matched by a boy like me-’ ooh it’s a boy!! Ehem, sorry…‘but this is my best effort at showing that I am worthy of your love. I’ve seen the beauty you hold behind those guarded walls and I would sell my soul to bathe in its light. Make me yours, and I’ll give you the moon, the sun, and the stars in the sky.’ Oh! And it’s signed, ‘Forever yours…’”

You were stunned into an impression of a statue, barely showing the rise and fall of your chest. Hope smirked at the deep blush hovering over your cheeks while Charlie caught her breath from her award-winning performance. The room was still, a curiosity lingering in the air as all three of you began to silently ponder, who could this mysterious suitor be?

“Well, it says here that he thinks you’re out of his league- oh, damn! That doesn’t narrow it down…” Charlie joked to ease the tension and a fit of giggles erupted from the surface of your bed. “If it were up to me, dear, I’d start crossing names off of a list!” Hope laughed, though her smile fell as you and Charlie looked at her with faces of realisation.

“That’s what we’ll do.” You spoke for the first time since the note arrived, “We’ll write down every boy who could fit this description and narrow down the options!” You said with a glint of determination in your eye.

“So you’re interested in this secret admirer?” Charlie smirked, though her face emitted a sense of hope. “If he can speak so honestly about all of this,” you gestured to the note, “then I believe his maturity might just be worth it.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Four pairs of eyes locked on you as you entered the Great Hall for breakfast. James was visibly more flustered than the others, but the rest of them were equally as invested in your reaction to the note.

You and your friends sat down with quiet whispers and glances down the table. As your eyes passed over the group of trouble makers they immediately paid special interest to their plates of food. Sirius began to pick at his eggs, Peter at his fruit and Remus stole quick sips from his juice. James gulped around nothing as he stared at his reflection in his plate, willing the bright flare of red occupying his face to fade away.

Once the three of you had moved your focus to a small huddle around your breakfast, the selection of Gryffindor boys immediately returned to ogling. “Can any of you see what they’re doing? Is that a quill in her hand?” Peter questioned. You shared quick giggles with your friends that disrupted the secrecy of your activity. The Marauders couldn’t quite place what you were doing, but they knew it would have something to do with the letter.

“An eye for mischief that one has, Prongs, what a cheeky couple you’d make- Ouch!” Sirius was interrupted by a sharp kick from his best friend under the table, though James’ eyes never left your frame.

Suddenly, your group took on faces of empathy, severity and concern, glancing at each other from your hunched positions. You trained your gaze on the boys who were discussing you, once again causing them to occupy themselves with the activities of breakfast.

After a lingering stare, you shifted back to the safety of your team and resumed your actions with a resolved expression.

“What do you think that was all about- Ow Prongs, what the bloody hell did I do?”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

You gently opened the doors to the Great Hall, quill and notebook tucked behind your back. Charlie and Hope accompanied you to seats by the Gryffindor table, glancing over the potential perpetrators of last night’s events.

With a final look over your eligible bachelors, you sat down and began to work, sheltered by your friends. “I think this is pretty much the entire male cohort of Gryffindor…” you giggled breathlessly, pondering the dense list of names placed in front of you. Charlie and Hope joined in on your humour, scanning the list to double check your memory, then glancing around once more.

“Oh…um, w-well,” Charlie started, “there is one group we haven’t quite considered yet…” You and Hope turned towards the girl, who glared at you with an uncharacteristically subtle, mental comment. All three of you turned to face the Marauders, who were busy devouring their plates full of breakfast.

Your gaze lingered on each one. Sirius was no match for your intelligence and humility. You were certainly out of Peter’s league. Remus could convey that quiet poeticism that made you blush when the note was read out. James was always unpredictable. He did succeed in classes and he could potentially feel intimidated by your presence, or he could just be a dickhead. Either way, all four boys were, unfortunately, eligible suspects.

You returned to your coven of secrecy, hunched forms plotting over your notebook. You listed the boys below the pre-existing list of Gryffindor inhabitants that you shared classes with. ‘Sirius, Peter, Remus, James.’

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Potions class finally arrived as the sun threatened to set in the faded sky. James rushed to his seat, close enough to you to feel sickeningly sweet without making it too weird. He wasn’t being too weird about all of this, right? No, the note was the right approach.

You drifted airily to your seat a few minutes later, resting on the chair as you retrieved your equipment. James felt his heart fight against his chest, pushing to be released from his lovesick body. A goofy smile captured his expression as he gazed at the back of your head in a daze, eventually interrupted by the beginning of class.

Potions came and went, with James struggling to keep his good grades with you just grazing the edges of his eye line. As the class began to fizzle away, and books found themselves tucked in bags or hugged towards chests, James decided this was his chance. Making his way to the front of the class, he smirked with confidence as he attempted to ask for his grade on the most recent assignment.

As he approached the teacher’s desk, he quickly dropped a folded note on your desk as you leaned into your bag on the opposite side. He promptly began his banter as you returned upright, watching as you curiously discovered the note in his peripheral vision.

“…Potter, you’ll get the grade at the same time as the rest of your class. Have some consideration for my free-time the next time you think to ask.” The professor’s words draw his attention back to their discussion, excusing himself with “Apologies, Professor! Have a good evening!” unusually happy for someone who just discovered they wouldn’t know their grade for at least another week.

As he swiftly moved towards his own belongings, a little bit too cocky for his own good and high on the success of his plan, he met a classmate’s back with a thump.

“Oh Merlin, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…” He realised who he had run into, your sweet fingers pinching the note you had yet to open as you swivelled around to face him, curiously. “Um, I- I’m sorry!” He rambled as he inched past you, scooping up his belongings and dashing out of the classroom.

Bollocks.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A/N: TYSM for all the support on the first part! This chapter should hopefully move the story along so we can get to the real fluff >:3 As always, likes and reblogs are immensely appreciated! Comment for part 3 <3