#hes not perfectly made but!!! i made him by hand and im proud of that alone!!!

[brie-draws]

After around 2-3 months, Hachi-Doll is done!!! My 35-year-old cat boy menace is brought to life. Summonable by putting out soup in a wine glass.

[asahicore]

cold hands - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. sunghoon x fem!reader

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

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

word count. 39.5k 😂

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

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

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

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

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

Just to name a few:

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

“Dude, you’ll never guess what.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t believe them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon nods. “Good to know.”

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

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

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

Sunghoon can already feel it. The beginning of something.

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon smiles. “Probably, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There you guys are!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re on, Sim.”

“You’re going down, Sim.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon thinks he just fell in love.

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

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

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

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

“They really don’t.”

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

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

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

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

“Where’s that choir of yours?”

--

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

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

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

“You had time to bake?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I came to your concerts!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if they come back for them?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Better than Berta’s banana bread?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For sure.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That makes sense.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’d be my pleasure.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

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

“Your mom must be really strong.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you don’t. 

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

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

He can hardly fall asleep that night.

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was his first mistake. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It is easy. You’re making it hard.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was his second mistake.

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

yn.sim i’ll be there!!

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

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

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

“Your team jacket?” 

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

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

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

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

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

He was terrified—but infinitely excited, too.

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

“Okay.”

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

Your smile widened. “Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that was when he saw you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey. I was wondering where you were.” 

“You’re the one who came late.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “Mh-hm.”

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

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

“It looks good. You look good.”

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

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

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

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

You sigh. “Okay. Where’s your room?” 

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

“Oh, that was Jaemin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve missed you.”

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon nods. “I know. It’s nice.”

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

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

“Just us two?” 

“Just us two.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrug. “Basically, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I wasn’t that bad!”

“I should’ve filmed you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right. See you, Y/N. Sunghoon.” 

Back to no-nickname basis, apparently.

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

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

“Mh-hm.”

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

“Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you agree that I’m tall?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You-what?”

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

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

“Sure.”

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

“Looking for validation,” Sunghoon says.

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

“That’s smart.”

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

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

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

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

“Minjeong?”

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re like, nineteen…”

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

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

“Minjeong, I promise-”

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

“Okay.”

“And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Go inside.” 

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

--

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

yn are you still up for doing something this week?

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

She never lets things get serious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grab his hand; it warms him right up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you wanna come up?”

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

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

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

“Minjeong karaokes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re me,” he replies breathlessly.

“Hm?”

“I mean, me too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, please.”

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re better than a dream.

“I feel great. Do you feel great?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

After that night, Sunghoon forgets how to act right.

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

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

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

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

He has never felt so awkward in his life.

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

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

“I haven’t!”

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

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

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

“Yes, after we had sex,” he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

“Minjeong’s out at karaoke tonight.”

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

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

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

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

“I was gone two minutes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hangs up and meets your flatmates’ worried eyes. 

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

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

“Have you guys tried saying something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So this has to do with your parents?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Since I met her, basically.”

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

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

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

“How did you know, anyway?”

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

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

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

“I didn’t want to make things weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everyone…”

“Everyone?!”

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

“So everyone.”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Great.” Jake sighs. “Since when?”

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

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

“‘Cause of Heeseung?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at you. Down bad, huh?”

“Shut up.”

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

“Seriously?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t change the subject.”

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

“What would happen more than once?”

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

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

“Yeah, what did you think?”

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

“Well, we were.”

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

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

“Damn.”

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

Jake frowns. “Why not?”

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

“What are you scared of?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not really, no.”

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

“Jay texted me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff. “Excuse me?”

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

“That’s different-”

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

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

“Of course I do! But I have to.”

“No, you don’t-”

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

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

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

“Again, that’s different-”

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

“You heard me,” you say coldly.

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

You glance at him. “Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

“Don’t. For the first time ever, I actually really don’t want to talk to you right now.” He stands up, gives you one last harsh look, and turns away. He only halts right before exiting the bleacher area, and after a couple seconds of thinking, turns back around. “Oh, but don’t worry, I’ll let you know when I want to fuck again. Since that’s all this is, clearly.”

--

It seemed to you no one thought you were good enough for Sunghoon.

Only Yunjin and Chaewon seemed excited at the prospect of the two of you getting together, or at least getting to know each other, but they were also the type to coo at dogs in the street and tear up at the sight of old people holding hands; Minjeong was apprehensive from the start, and made it clear; Jay was indifferent; Jake was oblivious for a while. Sunghoon was…

What was Sunghoon?

Someone who had come out of nowhere, shaken up your routine and messed with your head. That’s what Sunghoon was. He didn’t seem apologetic in the slightest.

Maybe it was your fault for not opening up to the people closest to you and letting them think you were some kind of no-strings-attached one-night-stands-only emotionless maneater who had been single for as long as they had known her, who would be seen with someone new every few months, and never for long, who, as far as the eye could tell, only used men for sex. Maybe it was their fault for never trying to dig deeper.

No, okay, it was definitely your fault.

Based on your conversations with your friends, they thought Heeseung had broken your heart, and you had never bounced back properly. He’d hurt you so much, you couldn’t fathom a real relationship anymore—you could only be with someone casually. Which wasn’t so far from the truth, but what Heeseung had done was much worse than just breaking your heart. He’d confirmed what you already knew of yourself: you want too much. You want what you can’t have, what you don’t deserve.

From the moment you met Park Sunghoon, you knew you didn’t deserve someone like him. Minjeong seemed to agree, and when she saw you and him together at choir that Saturday in September, three months ago already, she made sure you knew her thoughts on the matter.

“This is so… unlike you,” was the first thing she’d said after she pulled you aside. 

“What is?”

“This,” she repeated, waving her arms around. “Being here. Coming with him.” She pointed at Sunghoon, whose hair was being ruffled by one grandma and his cheek pulled by another. He kept glancing back worriedly at you—you liked him so much already. “See? You’re smiling at him,” she said, making you realize a sappy smile had started growing on your lips at the sight of him. Your face dropped and you scoffed at the disgust in her voice.

“Yeah, some of us like to smile. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Y/N, you know what I’m trying to say.”

“I don’t think I do, actually.”

She sighed. “You don’t do this. You don’t meet a guy and show up to his choir practice the next morning. What’s happening?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. Had you known your presence would be questioned like that, you might’ve thought twice about coming. “Can’t a girl enjoy a choir without getting interrogated these days?”

“You’re avoiding my question! Listen, Y/N. Sunghoon is not the kind of guy you usually go for. He’s-Stop. Don’t smile at me like that.”

“If you like Sunghoon, you can just tell me. You know I wouldn’t stoop so low as to go after a guy my best friend likes.”

“So you are going after him?”

“So you do like him?”

Minjeong shook her head violently and put her hands on your shoulders, staring into your brain as if trying to make you see some sense. Calmly, she said, “No, I don’t. Sunghoon’s nice, but he is so far from my type. He’s too… nice.”

“You mean he doesn’t wear leather jackets or ride a motorcycle?”

“That was once. But no, he doesn’t do that. And what I’m trying to tell you is that he’s not your type either.”

“And how have you gathered that?”

“Because so far, you’ve only wisely chosen guys who are as detached and emotionally stunted as you.”

“I’m not-”

“But he’s not like that, Y/N. He’s the bring-home-to-your-parents-for-Christmas type. Not the hump-and-dump type.”

“I’m starting to get offended by this conversation.”

“All I’m saying is, don’t go breaking his heart. Or yours, for that matter. It pains me to say but I care about both of you very much and I don’t see this going anywhere good.”

You shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Was her opinion of your romantic tendencies — or lack thereof — that bad that she couldn’t even recommend you to her friend? You felt like a chastised child whose mom told you you couldn’t get the toy you wanted. Despite being well aware that you weren’t the most committed when it came to relationships, you still felt like she was going overboard. Just because nothing had stuck so far didn’t mean it wouldn’t now—she was acting like you went around playing with people’s feelings for fun.

“Jesus, this is my second time seeing him. I just wanna see what his deal is. I’m not breaking anyone’s heart, okay?” 

The choir conductor had called out for everyone to gather on stage then, and that was the end of that conversation. You still remember how funny of a thing it was, seeing Sunghoon in his nice shirt and trousers, his hair falling into his eyes, singing diligently with the choir, when just the night before he had been playing beer pong dressed as Cowboy Ken. In this new light, you understood why Minjeong was so adamant about him not being your usual type, and why the grandmas were fussing over him. You hadn’t known what had pushed you to invite yourself to this rehearsal, and even then as you sat there, you weren’t sure what you were doing or why you couldn’t stop smiling as you watched Sunghoon sing. 

Time made things clearer, starting with that afternoon at the beach. The salt in the air that day had clouded your thoughts, covered them with a thin layer so that your usual reluctance to share anything remotely personal had dimmed. Or maybe it had had nothing to do with the air and everything to do with the boy sitting next to you on the sand, the way words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could think about them and were only met with understanding and empathy on his part. For once, you didn’t feel the need to guard yourself, to adapt your words and actions to the person in front of you. It was something you didn’t know was possible with a near stranger—perhaps because Sunghoon felt nothing like one.

He made you feel things you hadn’t felt in a long time; things you had been craving to feel, needed almost as much as oxygen. Being with him felt like breathing again. But you had been underwater so long, being on land again felt foreign, scary, and you couldn’t help but dive back into safe waters, coming up for air once in a while.

Whether he had intended to or not, Sunghoon had started to scratch at your surface, until he’d burrowed a small hole—shallow, but enough for cracks to appear, cracks you were quick to put back together as best as you could.

So when his gaze was too tender, his touches too gentle, you bristled. You went away, because you were afraid of what might happen if you stayed. The more you wanted to give him, the less you gave him anything at all. Your own desire overwhelmed you. His letterman jacket was warm around your shoulders, you proudly walked around with the four letters of his last name on your back, but you couldn’t get out of your mind how cold it would be if it was one day ripped away from you. 

You thought of Heeseung, how disillusioned you had been when you thought you had finally met someone who would love you the way you had always yearned to be, only for him to toss you away when you started asking for too much. You thought of your friends in middle school, how it seemed that no friendship could be more wonderful until you overheard them talking about you at a sleepover, about how clingy you were. You thought of your parents, how they had only bestowed kind words upon you when you performed well in your role of perfect daughter, of academically gifted child. How they hadn’t even glanced at any of the drawings you’d done of the four of you, mother, father, son and daughter holding hands with a bright yellow sun in the corner of the sky. How they had pushed you away from their bed when you seeked some comfort after a terrible nightmare. How they had never bothered to hide their disappointment when you came home from school with anything less than an A. How they had shunned your brother for not going down the path they had envisioned for him, how hard you had to fight to make them accept yours was not a worthless one.

Even your best friend seemed to think you were unable to receive affection of the likes of Sunghoon’s—but what you were afraid of was that he wouldn’t handle the amount of affection you knew you were able to give. In a way, that was what had drawn you to Sunghoon in the first place—from the moment you’d met him, you had been able to tell there was something of you in him. It seemed to you he had a heart that was overflowing with love, love to give, love to spare on whoever would have it. In his words, you were him. Nevertheless, your fear of getting hurt overrode your desire to feel Sunghoon’s love, and you didn’t know whether you would be able to revert to your nature after having spent so much time perfecting your new facade.

You knew what it was like to be cold. And so you prematurely braced yourself for it by pushing away Sunghoon’s warmth. If it was going to happen at some point, like Minjeong had hinted it would, might as well get used to it, right?

Except the cold never came. Sunghoon kept on burning relentlessly, no matter how much wood you fed his fire with—you could cling to him for nights on end or ignore his texts for days, without fail, he’d welcome you with his usual, unwavering warmth. He allowed you to bask in it, to momentarily let down your defenses. But something always happened to make you raise them back up—Minjeong would eye the two of you suspiciously, Heeseung would post on Instagram (Is one of the girls on slide five his new fling? Are they serious and it wasn’t that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, it’s that he didn’t want one with me?), or your mom would text you to ask you whether everything was okay.

Yet increasingly, you suspected there was something behind Sunghoon’s warmth, something you had missed, something that was tricking you. He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the night sky, yes; in public, a knowing look from you was enough to have his face turn bright red, and in private, one simple touch had his chest heaving, yes; he expressed disappointment every time you turned him down for a hang-out. Your attachment to him grew, and it became harder to put what the two of you had into words.

It wasn’t just sex—it couldn’t be. It ran deeper than that. You knew what relationships that consisted of just sex were like, and this wasn’t that, it was too good, too intimate to be just that. But you weren’t a couple, that much was clear. Only four other people were aware something was even going on, your brother not included, and you acted as regular friends in front of everyone. Jake had insisted you didn’t fool around with another member of his hockey team because his relationship with Heeseung had already deteriorated enough, he didn’t need to be on weird terms with anyone else on your behalf, so you were not keen on letting him know about what you got up to with Sunghoon. Anyway, even if everyone on earth was in on your shenanigans, you and Sunghoon hadn’t convened on what it all meant. Who knew what was going on in his head? You were no stranger to how deceitful men could be when they were after certain bodily pleasures. Unless Sunghoon said it in so many words, multiple times, you would not be a hundred percent sure he wasn’t only looking to get laid, or wanted someone to act like his girlfriend without the label and the obligations that came with it.

Because you basically were acting like his girlfriend, and he like your boyfriend. You always went to each other. Always, only each other. Whether he needed a second opinion on an outfit, you needed a rant session about your dissertation, either of you a really good orgasm, it was each other you went to.

You waited for him to initiate a conversation about the status of your relationship like one waits for church bells to ring at the turn of the hour—you knew it was coming, but the sound might be too much to bear. And the longer you had to wait, the more you dreaded it. Because how would you react when the time came? You didn’t trust yourself not to run away; neither did Minjeong.

The cold hadn’t come yet. You couldn’t let yourself feel the warmth unreservedly. It was all unpleasantly lukewarm.

Then you went home for a weekend.

It was a good friend from school’s birthday, and despite having spent a lot of time with Sunghoon at the expense of studying, you had done well this semester and thought you deserved a break. After having been away for so long, you had started to underestimate the power of your need for your parents’ approval over you. One small instance that your brother and many other people would’ve brushed off easily was enough to set you off—that same cold look of disappointment when you decided to be honest and told them one of your courses was deadly boring all while being unnecessarily complicated and you had received a low B-grade in it. They barely spoke to you for the rest of the evening.

Exams were a mere few weeks away when you got back. You buried yourself in work, forgot everything and everyone else, even Sunghoon, even yourself.

The cold hadn’t come yet, so you sought it out for yourself.

At the same time, you hadn’t indulged in enough introspection to realize how frustrated you had been at Sunghoon for not trying to create defined boundaries around your relationship. You were unable to do it yourself, you unrealistically wanted him to do the work for the both of you, you got upset when he didn’t. What you were able to do was make up reasons why he wasn’t giving you the what are we talk—he doesn’t like you that much, he just wants sex, he’s settling for you until he finds the next best thing, the real thing. This wasn’t leading anywhere, so you cut it off before he could.

You set foot in the library at seven thirty a.m. on a Monday and every following day of that week, then the next, then the next. He managed to pull you out every now and then—you weren’t that strong against his big pleading eyes, his soft messy hair, his warm hands that entirely covered yours. 

Oftentimes, you were too tired at the end of a long library day to have sex. Sunghoon never held it against you—he seemed more than happy to cook you dinner, let you fall asleep halfway during a movie you had chosen, and cuddle all night long. But your body burned with resentment at his mere presence in your bed, in your home, in your text messages. Who was he to stop you from studying, from achieving your goals, to distract you from that top grade just so he could get off? Even your friends and brother weren’t trying so hard to make you take breaks. The worry that furrowed his eyebrows, which you used to want to see fade away with a caress of your thumb, now infuriated you to no end, it seemed — to you — put-on. He kissed your neck and you wanted to push him away instead of melt into him like you had before.

It was his turn to leave for a weekend for an out-of-town hockey game, and you convinced yourself his absence came as a relief. But on the Sunday evening they got back, as you came out of the library, you spotted your brother waiting right outside of the building.

“Why is it so hard to reach you?” he said when he saw you in lieu of a greeting. “What’s the point of having a phone if you don’t even use it? I called you, like, five times.” “It was on airplane mode.” He rolled his eyes so hard, you could almost hear them moving beneath their lids. “What have you done to Sunghoon?” You stopped dead in your tracks. “Sunghoon? What about him?” you asked, chest constricting at the mere thought of him and at the implication that something had happened to him, even if you were the cause. He hadn’t said it in so many words, but it was clear the truth had been revealed to Jake, and for some reason, it didn’t surprise you. You knew they roomed together and assumed Sunghoon must’ve told him. You tried your best to take it in stride. “I thought we said the hockey team was off-limits after Heeseung,” he said sternly. “Also, Sunghoon, of all people?” he adds before you can say anything. “That’s like, my bro. And he’s the nicest guy ever. Not the perfect pick for one of your victims, I must say-” “Oh, please, he’s not a victim. He’s a consenting adult.” “Then why is he so upset over you spending more time studying than with him?” “That’s the male ego for you, Jakey.” Your brother sighed deeply. “He’s really hurt, Y/N. If you were going to reject him, you could’ve done it nicely.”

You frowned. “Who said anything about rejecting him?”

“You’ve shut him out. You’ve shut all of us out.” Jake was staring at you, trying to get you to look at him, but you kept your gaze on the ground and kicked non-existent pebbles around, hands hiding in your coat pockets. “You might not have meant it as one, but he took it as a rejection.”

You scoff. “There was nothing to reject. It’s not like we’re actually together.”

“Yeah, thanks for telling me anything was going on, by the way.”

“It wasn’t any of your business.”

“It is, ‘cause it concerns my sister and my best friend.”

“He’s your best friend?” you echo, a teasing smile on your lips. He rolls his eyes again.

“God, maybe you guys aren’t so bad together after all. But Y/N—I’m serious. You need to do something.”

“Why can’t he?”

“Because you’re the one who’s been fucking around.”

Ouch. “You’ve known about this whole thing for what, two days, and you’re already blaming me for the fact that it’s not going perfectly? How little do you think of me?”

“I don’t think little of you, Y/N, I just know you have a track record of not being serious about relationships.”

Your body tensed up. Maybe it had been a particularly long day. Maybe it had been a long time coming. Tears well up in your eyes—a sight you’ve not let your brother see in many, many years.

“You know what, fuck this, Jake. I’m stressed enough as it is. I’ve done my best with what I have, and you don’t get to pin this on me. As if I was the only person in that relationship. If Sunghoon has a problem, he can take it up with me directly.”

You walked away. Jake called after you once, and when you didn’t come back, caught up with you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t wanna upset you. I just-I hate seeing him hurt, you know? And you too.”

“I’m glad my feelings are of some importance to you.”

“Of course they are,” Jake said, too concerned to detect the sarcasm in your words. “And you’re right, I’ve only heard Sunghoon’s side of the story. But it really sounded like-”

“Listen, Jakey, I really don’t wanna do this right now. Let’s talk about it when exams are over. I can’t have anything else taking up mental space. I mixed up my Greek third declension endings earlier.”

“God forbid.”

After some arguing, Jake let you off the hook—“Just for now,” he said. You’d get him to recount his and Sunghoon’s conversation in excruciating detail later.

You come out of an evening of contemplation resenting Sunghoon for bitching about you to your brother, of all people. As if he had been begging on his hands and knees for your devotion, as if you had been cool-headed and detached and not thinking he’ll ask me to be his girlfriend any second now every time you spent time together. You told yourself you were well and truly done with him for the time being. If there was anything to salvage, that was future you’s problem.

But late on Thursday evening, Jay sent you a voice message, something he only did when he was gravely drunk, shouting over loud chatter and rap music that Sunghoon hadn’t shown up to a party and was apparently still practicing. You’d caught wind of their loss at the game, and even though your heart had swollen with concern for Sunghoon, very well aware of how important winning was to him, you’d managed to squash it down. You had bigger fish to fry, namely, an Italian written exam that made up 75% of your overall grade for that course. But after ten minutes of re-reading the same three lines of an article from Republicca, you couldn’t get the image of Sunghoon skirting endlessly around the ice rink and potentially hurting himself out of your head. You told yourself you only had this one exam left and plenty of time to revise for it, packed up your things and headed for the rink.

It was past eleven p.m. when you got there. The rest is history. 

Your grievances came out in an ugly way, but Sunghoon’s refusal to listen to you got the best of your nerves, and although you really did feel that your worry was more genuine than his, you didn’t truly believe that all he wanted from you was sex—at least, you hoped it wasn’t. It was the first time you ever saw any sort of negative emotion on Sunghoon’s handsome features, be it anger, sadness or pain. It tugged at your heartstrings, made you want to wrap him in your arms and get him away from whatever it was that tugged his eyebrows into a frown—even if that was you.

Now, as if the water has inched up your ankles and frozen over, your feet stay planted on the ice for a while after he’s stormed off. You don’t even realize you’re crying until a hot, salty teardrop falls on your lips.

Your feet regain control of themselves, and they seem to move of their own accord as they guide you right in front of Sunghoon’s dorm room. You’re barely conscious as your knuckles rasp against the door, and the tears that had fallen back behind your eyes spill out once more as soon as your eyes meet his. He’s just come out of the shower, a white towel wrapped around his hips, another one that he uses to dry his hair. His movements stop when he realizes who’s standing at his door, mouth falling slightly agape, chest visibly rising and falling. He’s so beautiful, you feel your heart breaking all over again.

Sobs pour uncharacteristically out of you, so much so that you have to hide your face behind your eyes. He ushers you in, holds you tight as everything flows out, the stress, the resentment, the loneliness, the longing. How could he be so close yet so far away this whole time? Did he want those miles of distance between you, or had you forced them upon him?

Sunghoon smoothes your hair down and shushes you, telling you it’s okay and that he’s here, voice strangled as if he’s on the verge of crying, too. A part of you still feels angry towards him, but the bigger part of you knows only he can give you the comfort you need.

“I missed you,” you say when you’ve calmed down partly. You only realize how true those words are once you’ve spoken them. You’ve missed waking up next to him, watching trashy reality TV together, taking coffee breaks that lasted too long in-between study sessions. You’ve missed the scent of his hair, the scent of his skin, you’ve missed watching the way his back muscles shift at the slightest of movements, feeling the weight of his head as he lay on your chest. All for a bunch of As you would’ve gotten without exerting yourself so much anyway.

“I missed you too, baby. Where did you go?” Just like that, you break down again, and he dissolves into apologies. “You’re here now, it’s all that matters,” he whispers against your hair.

“You didn’t see them, Hoon. You didn’t see the way they looked at me,” you say, struggling to speak, unsure you’re even making any sense but unable to stop. “I got As in everything, I worked so hard. Just one B, one week where I had four things due at the same time. Their faces, Hoon, like they were thinking, what was the point of letting me do this degree if I wasn’t even going to excel in it?”

“But you do excel in it, Y/N. You’re amazing at what you do. And even if you weren’t, you love it, and that’s what matters the most.”

“Not to them, it doesn’t.”

“Then forget them.”

“I can’t, Hoon,” you say, voice trembling. “I just can’t. I need them to be proud of me.”

“Isn’t it enough to be proud of yourself?”

“I wish it was.”

“Does it help if I tell you how proud I am of you and of how hard you’ve worked?”

He doesn’t see it, your face is still hidden in the crook of his shoulder, but a small smile makes its way to your lips. “A bit.”

“Then I’ll tell you everyday until you don’t need their approval anymore. They don’t deserve you, Y/N. They don’t even see what an amazing, beautiful, smart daughter they have. Or her sort-of-okay brother.” You laugh, and so does he. Sunghoon’s words and soothing touch against your back already alleviate the weight on your heart. “But I see it.”

You lift your head to look at Sunghoon. His eyes are glassy. “You see how amazing, beautiful and smart Jake is?”

He laughs again as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, exactly.” The way he looks at you makes you wish you could go back to the day you met him and right all of your wrongs. No more hiding or running away. You only want to stay under that gaze of his. But sadness soon replaces the joy in his eyes. “You mean so much more to me than you give yourself credit for, Y/N. This has never been just about sex for me. Not even for a second.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what has it been about?” 

He frowns like a student in an advanced math class who’s just been asked what three plus three is—isn’t it obvious?

“I love you.”

Your eyes dart between his as if searching for any trace of deceit there. Of course, you don’t find any—because there hasn’t been any since the start. You’d let your own fears invent things that weren’t there. Your lips tremble and you find yourself bawling on his shoulder once more, your tears like a well that digs deeper and deeper so as to never run out of water.

“I hope these are good tears,” Sunghoon says light-heartedly, but you can detect the nervousness behind his words. You nod your head vigorously, willing yourself to say something back, but your tears overflow, make your breath hitch.

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” you manage in between sobs.

“I didn’t think it was the kind of thing you wanted to hear,” he explains.

“I was waiting for you to say something.”

“I didn’t know. I thought I was being obvious enough.”

“You probably were. I was the one who couldn’t see it,” you admit.

“I thought you didn’t want me like that.”

“I thought you didn’t want me like that.”

Sunghoon chuckles, a sound of relief. “I’ve wanted you like that since the start.”

“I think I have too.”

“You think?”

You lift your head again and when your eyes meet Sunghoon’s, it feels like coming out of your hiding place hours after the round of hide-and-seek was over. He hadn’t forgotten to come and find you. He was waiting for you to reveal yourself.

Which goes against the rules of hide-and-seek, but you don’t blame him.

You smile; he smiles, deep dimples carving crescents into his cheeks. “I love you, too.”

You hadn’t realized how cold your hands were until Sunghoon found them.

--

Everything after that was a blurry mess of tangled limbs, warm kisses, happy tears and relieved laughter.

Your touch had always been intoxicating, but Sunghoon was particularly sensitive to it that night. The mix of not having felt you close in weeks and the heightened emotions driven by your confessions made his skin tingle everywhere it came in contact with yours. He’d never slept so little without regretting it in the morning.

It goes without saying that most of the night was not spent talking, but you still had things you needed to discuss. The two of you laid out all of your fears, and Sunghoon was immensely relieved to finally get a glimpse into that mind of yours. He made you promise to always tell him what was going on, and he promised you you’d never be too much for him. Always just right.

Now, he gets to wait outside of your exam hall with your favorite flowers in hand, to put his arm around your shoulders during movie nights instead of holding your hand beneath the blanket, to kiss you over the barrier at the end of a hockey game he won. Heeseung’s narrowed eyes at the sight of the two of you is an added bonus.

You text him that you’ll hang around the locker rooms after the game so that you can head to the party together. The end of December is nearing and you can’t wait for the new year, for twelve whole months of not hiding your feelings for Sunghoon from anyone, not even from yourself, least of all from him. At least, that’s what you told him in a sappy, drunken voice message at two a.m. the previous night when the girls made you drink a bottle of prosecco to yourself—their way of congratulating you for an arduous but successful exam period.

He steps out of the locker rooms with Jake and Jay. You’ve never looked quite as pretty, face lighting up as you spot the three of them, his jersey on your shoulders. You’d worn it during your last exam—“I thought it might bring me luck to wear a pretty boy’s name on my back,” you’d told him, to which he’d replied that it was good practice for when you actually took his last name. You’d looked away, fighting a smile.

Now your smile is full-blown as you look at him, but the downside of being an official couple is that Jake has now more material to tease the both of you with.

“Oh my God, you waited for me, what a sweet sister I have been blessed with!” he exclaims, arms outstretched as he barrels towards you.

“Fuck off, Sim,” you say but accept his hug nonetheless. “Nice game.”

“I know.” He pulls away and ruffles your hair. Jay nods at you like you’re someone he shared a class with back in second year and not his friend of almost three years.

As if on cue, just as Sunghoon reaches you and envelops you in a hug, Jake turns around and yells loud enough for all the players spilling out of the locker rooms, “And don’t forget to wear protection! I’m not ready to be an uncle yet.”

“That’s disgusting, Jakey,” you yell back, and he smiles proudly. Sunghoon had never thought the day would come where you’d initiate a kiss in a room full of people—he’s on cloud nine when you take his head in your hands and press your lips to his, murmuring praises about how well he played.

“It was all for you, baby,” he says, trying to appear cool even though a blush is creeping up his ears. 

“Not for the recruiter of the national team?” you asked with a smirk.

He smiles, shrugging. “Maybe a bit for him too. You’re the one I want to impress.”

“Consider me impressed.” You stand on your tiptoes to kiss him a second time.

You head towards your friends, hands warm against each other.

--

In classic mysterious Jay fashion, he organizes a New Year’s Eve party that he can’t attend himself.

He’s on holiday in some exotic country halfway across the world with his family, but he’s offered up their house for a celebration and tasked Jake with making sure no one trashes anything.

The party started three hours ago, and you’re sure it’s in full swing by now—you’re sure everyone is having a jolly old time, getting drunk enough to welcome the new year with a hangover, searching the crowds of people for the person they’ll want to kiss at midnight. You’re sure that people are having so much fun that whoever notices your and Sunghoon’s absence might think you’re missing out.

And maybe you are—but there’s nowhere you’d rather be than where you are now, straddling your boyfriend’s lap in the backseat of his car. He’s a little bit tipsy, you’re a little bit tipsy, it’s obvious in the way you kiss each other, messy, impatient, interspersed with giggles and with perhaps too much tongue. Your hands are not much more polite, harshly grabbing at his hair just the way you know he likes it, and neither are his, having snuck their way underneath your black satin dress long ago already.

When Sunghoon pulled you away from the party, you’d appropriately exclaimed, “But the party?”, to which he replied, “Fuck the party.” It wasn’t like him to curse, or to have anything but a bashful smile on his lips, like a guilty dog who’d been caught doing something it knew it shouldn’t, even though he was just standing there, so when you see his stoney expression, you think something serious must’ve happened.

The something serious turned out to be “that guy who was touching your shoulder.”

Clearly, it’d take Sunghoon a little bit more time to be entirely secure in your relationship. In the meantime, you didn’t mind letting him fuck his jealousy away.

Although he’d been the one to whisk you away, you’re the one who finds yourself begging for him to speed things up. Your flimsy thong does absolutely nothing, so you’re basically grinding yourself bare against his clothed erection—and it’s not like the fabric of his suit trousers is very thick, either. A girl can only put up with so much dry humping before having her boyfriend’s dick inside of her goes from being a want to a need.

“Need you, Hoon,” you coo against the shell of his ear. A few words usually do the trick, but Sunghoon has other plans tonight.

“What do you need, baby?”

“You.”

“I’m right here,” he says, punctuating his words with a squeeze of your ass.

“You know what I mean,” you say, practically whining.

“I’m not sure I do, actually.”

You pull away and, looking at him directly, say, “God, Sunghoon. I want you to fuck me.” His shit-eating grin simultaneously makes you roll your eyes and goes straight to your core.

“That I can do.”

He keeps one hand on your ass as he loosens his tie first, then undoes his belt and trouser buttons. His slacks and underwear pool around his ankles, and all he needs to do is hike your dress up around your hips and push your thong to the side. You wrap a hand around his dick, but your mind is too hazy to do much with it—he’s started rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb, the pressure and speed as perfect as it always is. You let your forehead fall against his shoulders and moan unabashedly, thankful he decided to park the car far enough away from the house.

“You like it when I touch you like this, baby?”

“I love it, Hoon.”

He hums his approval. “You’re so perfect. So perfect and so wet for me, isn’t that right?”

You start to say “yes,” but you interrupt yourself with a gasp. You hold onto Sunghoon’s arm, feel his muscles move under your palm as he slips two fingers inside of you without warning. “Please,” you choke out, a tight knot already forming in your stomach.

“Please what?”

“Need you. Need your dick, baby.”

He smiles as if endeared, but his words couldn’t be more different. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before going off with some random guy the one minute I was somewhere else.”

“He’s just-fuck, Hoon, he’s just a mutual friend of Jay and I. Fuck, right there, baby.” Forming coherent sentences when Sunghoon’s fingers flick against that perfect spot deep inside you again and again is no easy task, but you need to defend yourself.

“Right there?” he echoes, voice a whisper against your ear. When you nod, eyes shut tight, he slips his fingers out. You look at him, betrayed. “That’s too bad. Why don’t you ask him to touch you right there, hm?”

You don’t know how much of his jealousy is put-on to get you to beg and how much of it is real. You make a mental note to have a conversation with him about this later—right now, you don’t mind playing along if it means your boyfriend will deign to fuck you. You know he wants to, he’s just making you work harder.

You move your hand up and down along his dick, brush his reddening tip with your palm every now and then. “He couldn’t touch me like you, Hoon.” You lean in and trail kisses along his neck, his jawline, his ears. “Can’t fuck me like you, either.”

With exams, hockey matches and any other responsibilities out of the way for winter break, the two of you had had an obscene amount of sex in the past couple of weeks. You’d done other things, of course, namely having much-needed conversations with each other, your friends, your families. Sunghoon’s mother was overjoyed at the news, glad her “duckling had finally met someone” — her words — and his sister kept stealing his phone from him to talk to you when you were on FaceTime. You and Jake had gone home for two days for Christmas, and although Jake had needed to pep talk you into it for over an hour, you managed to tell them that you wouldn’t stand for being belittled for your life choices anymore.

But in-between these conversations, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. You’ve grown more comfortable with each passing day, both of you bolder in vocalizing what you want and how you feel. And so, you quickly found out that your Sunghoon, your shy, sweet Sunghoon, got off like nothing else on salacious words. In line with his possessiveness, he loved hearing about how he and only he could do these things to you; in line with your need for validation, you could practically come from hearing his praises alone.

“That’s right, baby.” Like the gentleman he is, he fishes out the condom wrapper he had gotten ready from his trouser pocket, tears it open with his mouth and rolls the condom on with one hand, his other one still preoccupied with you. “Come here, my love,” he whispers, his sweet tone worlds away from his previous teasing, almost cocky one. He grabs your hips, guides you closer to him and lines your entrance with the tip of his dick. He lets you go at your own pace, rubs your thighs soothingly as you sink down onto him slowly and adjust to his size. You throw your head back, mind hazy with pleasure as you move your hips back-and-forth against him.

“You feel so good, baby. You’re doing so well for me.” His words make you pick up your pace, and you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers grabbing at his hair and sides of your faces pressed against each other as you start lifting your hips and sinking back down. Sunghoon’s hands hold your ass tightly, guiding you up and down. It’s hot in the car; sweat runs down your hairline and your back, air is running low, the windows are fogging up, but it only adds to the dizzying bliss growing in you. Even the seatbelt receiver digging into your knee doesn’t bother you.

“Feels so good, Hoon,” you moan.

“I know, baby.”

Your hours of studying everyday means your thighs aren’t the strongest—good thing for you that your boyfriend has enough stamina and strength for the both of you. As soon as he feels you tiring, your rhythm becoming slower and more irregular, he picks up your slack. One hand on your back, one arm around your waist, he presses you close to him, his hold on you so tight you can barely move. He bucks his hips harshly into yours, faster and faster, making you cry out with every brush of his tip against that spot deep inside of you. Your whole body shakes with pleasure as your moans grow higher and louder, until the tension in your stomach hits its apex and unravels. A gasp leaves your throat as you come around him, but he’s unrelenting, the overstimulation quickly making tears form in your eyes. Strings of curses and praises of how perfect you are spill out of Sunghoon’s mouth disorderly as he reaches his own end.

Together, you take your time catching your breath, his fingers roaming your back while you trail soft kisses all over his face and neck. “My pretty baby,” he whispers, and it makes your heart swell with so much affection for him that you press your lips to his, shutting him up in case he says something that actually has you exploding.

You wish you could spend some more time just the two of you before returning to the party, but when you check your phone, it’s already five minutes to midnight—he puts his clothes back on as you fix your hair in a rush, Sunghoon helping you wipe away traces of mascara under your eyes, and together, run back to the living room where everyone has gathered. You find Minjeong, Yunjin, Chaewon and Jake, who has Jay on FaceTime. It’s only five p.m. where he is.

Everyone counts down from ten together. The first thing you do in the new year is kiss Park Sunghoon—and you’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do, too.

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𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝜗𝜚 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄: fluff, established relationship, down bad wonwoo (he’s a certified simp) 𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: idol!wonwoo x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.6k

⦗💌 ⦘ though it didn’t bother wonwoo that his girl wasn’t a gamer like him, he was over the moon when one day she proudly declared she started gaming. one thing he forgot to ask - what kind of games she was playing.

𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: guys if i play dress to impress does it mean im finally a gamer?

wonwoo was having a stroke. 

months ago, when you first started going out, he of course had to mention his love for gaming and computers, no matter how lame it made him - he figured if it bothered you then you simply weren’t fit for him. but, thankfully, you didn’t find it unappealing whatsoever, you even asked him questions about games and whatnot, sounding genuinely interested. 

and he wouldn’t lie - it’d be cool if you were a gamer as well, but… 

“no, it’s not for me,” you said when he asked if you played. “i don’t really get the hype, and to be honest i just suck really bad.” 

…but wonwoo understood that you didn’t have to share his every passion, besides - you had your hobbies, he had his, and that was perfectly fine. he was more than happy to indulge in activities that you enjoyed and getting to know you even better through them. 

during the course of your relationship you still didn’t show any interest in his games. well, maybe except for when you wanted cuddles, then you suddenly took a great interest in what was happening on his computer, but wonwoo didn’t mind. it was cute how you tried to keep up with the game though you had no idea what it was about, especially when you were sleepy.  

sometimes, though, you felt bad that you didn’t share his passion, that you didn’t know about all of the new updates, and gaming terms, or what the different keys on the keyboard were responsible for, but wonwoo was always quick to shut down those silly thoughts of yours. “i don’t mind, honey,” he always said and kissed your cheek. “i really don’t”. 

so it was safe to say that he had never expected to hear, "i'm a gamer now, baby. i play games," with a proud smile on your lips. 

wonwoo’s day had been long and hard, his muscles were aching from the hours spent on dancing and moving around the stage, and his head was begging for a moment of silence from all the yelling and yapping of his members. 

but that, that just woke him up like no amount of coffees or red bulls could. 

“huh?” he managed to say in utter confusion. 

he didn’t like how you were smiling. there was something sinister about it. 

“there’s this game everyone is playing now. i saw some videos on tik tok,” you had to stifle a giggle seeing your boyfriend’s expression upon the mention of the app he considered cursed, “and it looked fun. so… i’ve been playing it ever since you left for work.” 

well, maybe you did find it on tik tok, but a game was still a game, so wonwoo figured he should count that as a win. 

“let me show you,” you declared and took his hand with an excited grin, before he could say anything else, let alone ask you what kind of game you were talking about. 

you quickly pulled him into his bedroom, totally dismissing mingyu’s “hello”, and made him sit on his gaming chair. 

“i know you don’t like it when people touch your computer-,”.

“you can use it, honey, i don’t mind,” he cut you off and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. as ecstatic as wonwoo was about your breakthrough in gaming, he could wait to go to bed and finally get his well deserved cuddles from you. 

“okay okay,” you said and unintendedly ran your fingers through his hair. “so here it is,” you pointed at the screen behind him. 

wonwoo had no idea what game could have finally caught your attention. even the adorable characters from animal crossing weren’t cute enough for you to spend more than five minutes on the game, but what he saw on his computer...

"what, uh," he gulped. "what is that?"

“dress to impress!” 

well, it certainly did not impress wonwoo. 

“it’s like a dressing up game,” you added, when your boyfriend didn’t say anything. “here.” 

you rolled him a bit away from the desk so you could take your designated place on his lap, and disconnected the headphones from the computer, which made everything so much worse. the music that was playing in the background had to be one of the worst sounds he had ever heard. 

“look,” you pointed at the timer at the top of the screen. “the game is starting.” 

he could feel how you were buzzing with excitement, clapping your hands in tiny, waiting for the time to run out. 

“okay, see? here’s the theme,” wonwoo nodded sceptically, but nonetheless tightened his grip on your waist. 

album cover. 

then the screen changed to what looked like a large walk-in closet the size of his and mingyu's apartment. a bunch of other characters were running around, and the god awful music was still playing, and you started to run around as well, and, “oh my god, what was going on?”. 

“who should i dress up as?” you bit your nail, clearly very focused. wonwoo took a peek at your furrowed brows, and small pout and for a second he drowned out the annoying sound coming from his computer, just to focus on your adorable expression.  

“i can do you!” you said, and turned around to quickly place a kiss on his cheek. “from the “face the sun” concept photos. technically it’s not an album cover, but… no one here is ever on theme anyway”.  

wonwoo could only watch as you slowly changed your outfit into something that was supposed to resemble one of his concept photos, only in a more cutified version, because as you said, "you're a babygirl". with the minutes ticking by, he couldn’t help but smile at you being so focused on putting the whole outfit together. 

"okay, it's done," you said, leaning back so you were resting against wonwoo's chest. "now it's show time."

one by one, the characters walked the carpet, presenting their… whatever their outfits were. 

“ugh, this fit sucks ass,” you groaned, and nuzzled your head into his shoulder. “wait til one of them hits the twenty eight pose,” you said, and by the tone of your voice wonwoo did not want to see that. 

“why are you giving everyone one star?” he asked, confused. “that one wasn’t that bad,” he pointed at the character that dressed up as ariana’s dangerous woman. 

“you never give anyone more than one star,” you stated as a matter of fact. “oh, look,” you squealed. “it’s me.” 

indeed it was you, and for what it was worth - your outfit looked the best in wonwoo’s opinion. but then again you were best in everything to him, so his opinion didn’t count. and then the screen turned black again. 

the winners are… 

“now we’ll see who placed on the podium,” you explained, and grabbed his hand that was still resting on your waist. 

wonwoo nodded and put his chin on your shoulder. “i’m sure you’re going to be first, honey.” 

“huh,” you huffed. “i wouldn’t be so sure about that.” 

and yeah, you were right. in the first place there was a character that wasn’t dressed up at all, in the second someone with the vip sign dressed as if they were going to the circus, and in the third there was a very creepy character of a man.

you clicked your tongue annoyed. “told you.” 

well, that was an experience wonwoo had never thought he’d have the, uh, pleasure to go through. 

“so,” you got up, and just when wonwoo was about to whine about the lack of your warmth, you straddled his lap. “what do you think?” you cupped his cheeks and smiled at him brightly. 

he wasn’t sure he was thinking at all, at this point. 

the annoying music? unbearable. the clearly not on theme outfits? hideous. the weird poses that freaked him out? he was sure he’d get nightmares from them. 

wonwoo must’ve been thinking too long about his answer so as not to hurt your feelings, because the smile slowly started to disappear from your face. "you think it's weird, right?" you asked and looked down.

"what? no, it's not that, it's-,".

"sweetie, i understand," you laughed quietly. "it's a game for kids, and a little cheesy at that but-,".

"no no," wonwoo quickly said and grabbed your face in his hands so he could lift your head. "i just didn't expect this. you always said you didn't like to game and i didn't know what to expect."

"yeah, but still-,".

"oh could you be quiet for a second?" he smiled when he saw the corners of your lips lift up. "i didn't mean to make you feel bad and i'm sorry if it did.” 

yeah, the game might not have been his style, and he would never have played it himself, but you liked it. and that was all he cared about. he had never seen you smile like that when he was gaming - your eyes were practically heart shaped when you were dressing up your character, and if this wasn't the most adorable thing ever he didn't know what it was. 

if it made you happy, then it made him happy too.

"you have no idea how glad you found a game you like," he ran his thumbs over your cheeks. "and you know what? if i played myself i'd definitely give your outfit five stars."

you giggled, and wrapped your hand around one of his wrists. "thank you, wonwoo."

"of course," he muttered and pecked your forhead. "now tell me, is there a way we could play it at the same time?"

"wonwoo, you don't have to-,"

"but i want to," he said.

for a moment you just looked at him with a raised brow, as if you were trying to figure out if he was really telling the truth. and he really was. wonwoo would survive any horrible outfit and that annoying music just to see you so excited and happy again.

"are you sure?"

he quickly nodded.

"okay, then let me get my computer."

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl @uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot  @iamawkwardandshy  @icyminghao @heeseungthel0ml @goyangiiwonu @bath1lda @ruurooozz @ny0sang @luuxian @onerubii @iamawkwardandshy @hurrican3-insert-nam3 @mekuiikore @luvseungcheol @thenotoriousegg @yuuyeonie @soffiyuhh

[littlelamy]

HI AGAIN I hope I can send more requests cause I'm kinda obsessed with obx again 😔😔

but could you do some more of jealous rafe? like, maybe they're at the beach, he gave her a bikini for her birthday so they went for her to use it for the first time and then she's tanning and some guys are looking at her 😭

I just love jealousy so much

a/n: thank you for sending a request! 👙 sorry if it’s too long, im obsessed with jealous!rafe, and yes, send as many requests as you want!

the sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the beach as you and rafe strolled along the shore. it was a perfect day for the ocean—warm, inviting, and with just enough of a breeze to keep you cool. rafe had surprised you with a tiny bikini for your birthday, and today was the day you’d finally wear it. you could still remember the look on his face when he handed you the gift, a mix of excitement and nervousness.

“you really think i can pull this off?” you’d teased, holding up the bikini, a delicate fabric in shades of teal that seemed to shimmer in the light.

“you’ll look amazing,” he’d replied, his voice confident, but you noticed the slight flush creeping up his cheeks. “trust me.”

now, standing on the sand, you felt a rush of exhilaration mixed with a hint of nerves. rafe was watching as you adjusted the straps of the bikini, the fabric hugging your body perfectly. you could see the admiration in his eyes, but there was something else—an undercurrent of tension that made your stomach flutter.

“you look incredible,” he said, the sincerity in his voice causing your heart to race. you smiled, feeling a swell of confidence as you sauntered over to your towel, ready to soak up the sun.

you settled down on your beach towel, stretching out comfortably. the sun warmed your skin as you closed your eyes, reveling in the moment. you could hear the gentle crash of the waves and feel the soft breeze tousling your hair.

rafe, meanwhile, was nearby, laying back on his towel but keeping an eye on you. you could sense his gaze on your skin, and it made you feel both flattered and a little self-conscious. you knew he was proud of you, but as time passed, you could also feel his tension building.

you sensed a shift when a group of guys strolled past. they were loud, laughing, and clearly enjoying the day, but as they caught sight of you, their laughter faded into awed silence. you felt their eyes on you, and a rush of warmth crept up your cheeks. it was flattering, but you also noticed rafe’s demeanor change instantly.

“can you believe these guys?” he muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening. “it’s like they’ve never seen a girl in a bikini before.”

you turned your head slightly to glance at the group, catching their wandering gazes. they were whispering among themselves, pointing in your direction. a knot formed in your stomach, unsure of how to react. you laughed lightly, trying to brush it off. “it’s just the beach, babe. it’s not a big deal.”

“not a big deal?” rafe shot back, his tone sharper than you expected. he sat up, his eyes narrowing at the guys as they continued to gawk. “they’re practically drooling over you.”

“rafe, come on. it’s just a few guys having fun,” you said, trying to ease his frustration. “you know I’m with you.”

“i know that,” he snapped, his fingers digging into the sand beside him. “but it doesn’t mean i have to like it.”

you could see the jealousy radiating off him, a heat that contrasted with the sun’s warmth. it was an emotion you’d seen before, but this time, it felt amplified. “are you jealous?” you teased lightly, hoping to lighten the mood.

“of course not,” he replied too quickly, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. “i just…don’t like seeing other guys looking at you like that.”

you propped yourself up on your elbows, studying his expression. there was something adorable about his possessiveness, but it was also a little concerning. “rafe, you know you don’t have to worry. i’m yours.”

“yeah, well, it doesn’t make it any easier to see,” he grumbled, glancing back at the group, who were now openly whispering and laughing again. one of them, a tall guy with dark hair, even made a show of flexing his muscles, clearly trying to impress you.

you couldn’t help but chuckle. “oh please, they’re just being goofy. it’s not like i’m going to go running off with them.”

rafe’s eyes darkened. “you’re right, you won’t. because they don’t know you like i do.” his tone softened slightly, but you could still feel the tension simmering beneath the surface.

deciding to change the subject, you stretched out again, putting on your sunglasses. “how about we take a dip in the water? it’ll cool us off.”

“you mean me cool off while you’re out there looking that sexy?” he replied with a smirk, his eyes still following the group of guys. “not a chance. you’re staying right here.”

you laughed, enjoying the playful banter. “come on, rafe! don’t be such a baby. just because i’m in a bikini doesn’t mean anything.”

“no, but it’s just the principle of the thing,” he muttered, his gaze finally breaking away from the guys to settle on you again. “besides, you’ll just attract more attention.”

“i’ll take my chances,” you said, sitting up fully. “or are you afraid someone will try to sweep me off my feet?”

“as if,” he scoffed, finally relenting. “just remember, they’re all losers compared to me.”

“that’s the spirit!” you exclaimed, standing up and brushing off your towel. you grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the water, your laughter infectious.

the moment you stepped into the ocean, the cool water enveloped you, refreshing against your sun-warmed skin. rafe followed closely behind, still slightly on edge but unable to resist your enthusiasm. as the waves lapped at your legs, you turned to him, splashing some water playfully in his direction.

“you’re going to pay for that,” he warned, a grin breaking through his earlier tension.

“oh, is that a challenge?” you replied, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“absolutely,” he shot back, lunging toward you and catching you off guard. you squealed as he pulled you under the water, laughing as you surfaced, shaking the droplets from your hair.

“you’re going to regret that!” you said, trying to keep your breath steady from laughing so hard.

but as you turned to face him, you caught a glimpse of the guys from earlier still watching, their heads turning as they pointed in your direction again. you felt a twinge of discomfort but brushed it off. rafe, however, was not as easily distracted.

“look at them,” he muttered darkly, his smile fading. “they can’t take a hint.”

“it’s fine, rafe!” you insisted, trying to reassure him as you waded closer to him. “they’re just jealous of you.”

“jealous of me?” he repeated, incredulous. “that’s a stretch.”

“why wouldn’t they be? you’re hot, and you have a gorgeous girlfriend in a tiny bikini. it’s a win-win for you,” you teased, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

“you really think so?” he asked, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.

“absolutely,” you said with conviction. “but you need to relax. they’re not going to steal me away from you. you’re the one i want.”

rafe looked at you for a moment, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “yeah, but… it’s hard, you know? i just want to keep you safe.”

“i get it. but you’re not going to lose me. i promise,” you said softly, taking his hand and squeezing it. “i’m all yours.”

he seemed to contemplate your words, the jealousy simmering down as he relaxed into your touch. “okay, fine. let’s enjoy the beach, then.”

you spent the next hour splashing around in the waves, laughter echoing through the air. rafe finally loosened up, playfully chasing you through the water, his earlier jealousy fading into the background. you both ducked under waves, surfed the gentle swells, and lost track of time. everything felt perfect.

eventually, you decided to take a break and sunbathe again. as you laid back on the towel, you noticed a couple of the guys from earlier still glancing your way, whispering amongst themselves. rafe must have noticed too because you felt his body tense beside you.

“there they go again,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest, a protective stance you found endearing.

“rafe, come on. let it go,” you said, trying to suppress a laugh. “it’s not like they’re going to come over here and ask me out or something.”

“no, but they’re looking at you like you’re some kind of prize,” he snapped, his frustration bubbling back to the surface.

“maybe i am,” you teased, but you could see the seriousness in his eyes. you turned to him, your expression softening. “i’m not going anywhere, rafe. you’re the one i want to be with. no one else can change that.”

he shifted closer, finally meeting your gaze. “you really mean that?”

“of course. besides, they don’t know what you’re really like,” you said, reaching out to stroke his arm. “they can look all they want, but they’ll never understand what we have.”

“i guess you’re right,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “i just… don’t want anyone thinking they have a chance.”

“they don’t. i’m yours, remember?” you reminded him, leaning in for a soft kiss. it was tender and lingering, filled with the warmth and promise of your bond. when you pulled back, you saw a flicker of relief in his eyes.

“yeah, i like the sound of that,” he said, a small smile breaking through. “yours.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[undercoveravenger]

Part of the Pack

Pairing: poly hybrid!141 x Male!reader

Part 1: Click here

-----

After that moment on deployment when you woke up cuddled up with your teammates, your relationship with the 141 has changed and you’re not quite sure what to make of it.

Before, Soap had always joined you at mealtimes and Gaz’d drop in every now and again, but now the entire team clusters around you each day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Price has even joined Soap in loading up your tray with a frankly unreasonable amount of food at every meal and they both watch you expectantly as you try to make even a dent in the portion.

There’s also the gifts. Shiny things, mostly, left in your office or outside your door for you to find. You’ve come into possession of a number of rings and necklaces, and even a nice gold watch with an intricately inscribed face.

There’s other gifts too though, things that appear on your nightstand or set gently onto the pillow beside yours, travel mugs with coffee or tea or cocoa made exactly to your liking, granola bars, a high quality switchblade, even a tiny wood carving of a panther. Even with the light sleeping habits from years of service, you’d never been able to catch whoever was leaving things in your room for you.

To say the changes have thrown you off is an understatement, but it’s nothing compared to this moment. To this dingy bar with its too-dim lights and overplayed music with the 141 crowded into the booth around you, high on a successful mission and tipsy from the celebratory drinks, when Ghost tugs his mask up enough to expose his mouth and leans over to kiss you like it’s as second-nature as breathing.

You’re frozen, trapped in place by your surprise in the wake of his attention, and you can feel the low, satisfied pur that rumbles through him like thunder at the feeling of your lips on his. 

“No fair,” Soap whines as Ghost pulls away from you, clutching at you from your other side, “I had dibs on kissin’ ‘im first!”

And if that doesn’t have your reeling mind screeching to a halt. First?

You ignore Soap’s pouting for the moment as you examine your teammates with a new curiosity. Gaz’s eyes are dark where they flick between you and Ghost, hungry in a way you’d never seen him before. His wings tremble slightly behind him, like there’s electricity spiking through each individual feather. 

Price looks, well, not quite proud, but satisfied, like something he’s been waiting for has just clicked perfectly into place.

Soap takes hold of your jaw then, uses it to guide you back to face him and kisses you like he’s been dying to do it. His fingers slip back to twist into your hair and pull you closer, tongue pressing brief and teasing against your lip, and you have the distinct feeling he’d be on your lap right now if the booth wasn’t so tight.

“Wha-” you manage to gasp out when he pulls back to nose along your throat, tail thumping violently against the worn vinyl seat. “What’s happening?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?” There’s a fond chuckle from Price, and you catch the way his hand slips from Gaz’s shoulder down between his wings and the full body shudder it wrenches out of Gaz. “We’ve been courtin’ ya for goin’ on two months now.”

Wait, no - that couldn’t be - except it kind of had been, hadn’t it?

Price’s signals would’ve been the hardest to pick up on - his hand lingering just a few seconds too long after a pat on the shoulder, the way he’d corner you before an op to double check your gear, the weight of his eyes on you in the shooting range - what you’d thought had been judgement apparently admiration. The way he’d slip you the dessert from his MRE when the rest of the boys weren’t looking. 

And the more that you think about it, the more signs you can remember. The shiny gifts from Gaz, the way he’d damn near beam whenever he saw you wearing that watch - the way he’d been asking you to help him preen his wings, the way his pupils would blow wide when you’d say yes and the cute little huffs that’d come when you actually handled his feathers.

The little things Ghost had left you in your room (you’re not sure how you hadn’t realized it was Ghost before between the little panther carving and the stealth with which the gifts were delivered) and the way he’d let himself fall asleep against your shoulder on the flight home. Ghost doesn’t trust easy, and with good reason, but the way he’s been behaving around you…

And Soap - God, even if you hadn’t been able to see the signs from anyone else, you’re not how you hadn’t noticed his. That you hadn’t noticed the way those pointed wolf ears prick forward and his tail wags double time whenever he sees you, or how he’s so prone to draping himself against you with an arm over your shoulder or around your waist, especially after one of those long nights at the gym - the way he’d tuck his head into your neck after a workout, like he was trying to memorize the smell of you. The way he was always making sure you’d eaten or inviting himself into your room for a cuddle. You’d always assumed it was a wolf-hybrid thing if not just a Soap thing, but now that you’re thinking about it you’ve never seen him like that with anyone else except the rest of the 141.

“Oh,” you say, suddenly feeling rather foolish for not reading deeper into your teammates’ actions. Your eyes dart between the four of them again. “Really? All of you?”

“Think we’ll be too much to handle?” Gaz Kyle prompts, challenge burning bright in his clever golden eyes.

You huff a laugh and know he knows you too well, that he knows you can’t turn down a challenge, especially one with such a tempting reward. You down the rest of your drink and clamber out of the booth over Johnny. 

“I’ll get the tab and we’ll get outta here?” you call back over your shoulder as you head for the bar. 

You can’t fight back the grin that forms at the excited chorus of agreement behind you. Sure, you hadn’t seen it coming when they made room for you in their little family, but you’d be a fool to let something as incredible as them slip away from you.

[hwalovs]

Temptation, My Old Friend (M)

Pairing; Priest!Jayce Talis x Fem!Reader Word Count; 4.0k Warnings; PWP!!!, Oral (fem receiving), no mention of she/her but the reader has female anatomy, Jayce is (kind of) unexperienced, fingering, cumming untouched, cursing, choking, straight to it no exposition, rosary play (?), im atheist and proud, talks of god, uhhhh, Jayce is pathetic (when is he not?), self indulgent word vomit i just wrote out of the blue

Summary; Father Jayce has gone his whole life following the words of God, preaching the bible, and worshiping at the alter. Yet, when temptation is knocking at his door, he cant help himself. Especially when its in the form of you.

A/N; uhh,,,, i'd like to thank my group of friends on discord, mainly Jude and mads, for filling my brain with filth. And byn, who stayed on ft with me while i screamed and cried over some of the parts of this fic. Actually, just sending all my love to the freaks on discord. This would've never been made without them.

THIS IS NOT EDITED!

DO NOT COPY, REPOST ON OTHER SITES, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK WITHOUT PERMISSION!

Temptation; the desire to do something, especially something wrong or unwise

Jayce had that ingrained into his mind since he entered the congregation. It was something always tacked onto the walls, mocking him when his young mind dared to think of something perverse, lewd, unholy. 

The church was his second home, the large space filled with the atmosphere of incense and large stained glass windows that reached the ceilings, vaulted to allow some hope that prayers would reach the desired ears. Jayce knew the ins and outs of his church, growing everlasting trust and friendship with the visitors who pray. He listens, he worships, and he believes. He studied his bible, he recited the precious text, and he instilled the belief in people that there is a God there to protect them. Yet, where was his God now? 

Shaking hands grab onto the desk beside your hips, knuckles white as his body is forced to bend over your sitting form. His forehead rests on your lightly, breathing heavily as he watches you slowly unbutton your top, smooth skin slowly being exposed to his eyes. He was sweating, robes sticking to his back as he watched how your fingers wrapped around his rosary. The blue contrasted perfectly against your skin tone, the small beads seemed to glimmer. Each bead seemed to twinkle as your fingers moved, the chain wrapped perfectly around your fingers. 

Legs slowly opening, your hands descend to the buckle of your pants, head tilting as your eyes gaze at him. 

“You’re trembling, Jayce,” his name purred, whispering in the air like a cool summer breeze. It runs through him, setting him alight. Fingers gripping onto the wood, he swallows a whimper. His knees were shaking, the feeling of collapse imminent. 

“I don't- you- hn-” he has to stop himself before he says something he regrets. Eyebrows furrowing, you push yourself higher with your toes to slide the fabric down your knees, lips grazing across his cheek when you reach down to push them from your feet. The fabric pools on the ground, and you lean back in just your underwear. Your shirt was opened fully, baring your chest to him. 

With one hand, you raise the rosary to drag it across your chest, stopping when it reaches your collarbones. The small cross rests within your clavicle, the skin of your neck beating with your pulse. It was beautiful, something belonging to him, decorating your skin so nicely. His stomach tightens, raw heat coursing through his veins. 

Heartbeat in his ears, he somehow manages to pull himself together to hear your voice, so inviting. Its liquid honey that wraps around his throat, makes it squeeze so tight he can't breathe.

“Aren’t you a man of worship?” Your head tilts, lips curling into a mischievous smile as his eyes break from the cross to meet your gaze. 

“I am,” he repeats your name, letting it roll off of his tongue with a deep growl. How could you do this to him, taunt him with his own things- yet, he let you lift it from his neck. He let you push yourself onto his desk, and encouraged him with sparkling eyes to cage you in. He did it willingly too, stepping closer to your warm body to lean closer. 

“I don't think you are,” it's teasing, how you smile and bat your eyelashes at him. The statement makes his stomach drop, and with a sudden fear, he bites the inside of his cheek, “why is that?”

He knows he shouldn’t indulge you, should tell you to leave so he could get ready for the next Mass, but you’re so beautiful. You look so soft, plump, and delectable under his trembling body.

You kiss your teeth, legs raising to rest lightly against his thighs, “you’ve never worshiped anything but that silly book.”

Pupils dilated, Jayce’s hips jerk forward at the way you look at him, a teasing smile and fire-lit eyes descending into a dark abyss. Akin to a demon, your eyebrows raise and your head tilts back just the slightest to expose more of your jugular. “Won’t you worship me?”

“I can’t, it's not right.” He sounds less convincing than he would've liked. With a pout, you hum. “Just a kiss, yeah? I’m sure God would understand- you’d be spreading his love, after all.”

Millions of thoughts race through his mind, but he can’t control any of them as his hazel eyes flicker to watch the way your pulse beats against your skin, thudding against the chain of his rosary. 

God would understand, right? He was doing this for God, right?

His lips descend before he can truly stop himself, mind fuzzy as he places a heavy kiss on the cross, feeling it's cold metal as it presses into your hot skin. He can hear you sigh, hear the whimper that bubbles past his lips as his hips slide between your open legs. He was trembling as your chest arched into him, and when he pulled back he found himself gasping for breath. 

You drop the cross lower, just between the valley of your breasts, and Jayce tilts his head, following like a lovesick puppy wanting a reward. He presses another kiss, and then he deviates, can’t stop himself from opening his mouth to lick against it. His beard scratches against your skin, and you can’t stop the whine that bubbles from your throat. 

He can taste you, he thinks. The slight salt that lingered, his tongue running across his lip as he pulled away. His knees descend, making contact with the linoleum floor and his arms rest heavily against your open thighs. His hands grasp your naked hips, fingers digging into the thin fabric that restricts him from fully seeing you. He was so close to your panties that if he wanted to, he could lean forward and smell you, dig his nose into the fabric, and smell your delicious aroma that haunts him late at night. He wants to drag your panties off, taste you for himself, and have your essence coat his tongue for hours.

The cross drops to just under your belly button, soft tummy so inviting and he doesn’t hesitate this time. God would understand, wouldn’t he? He would see the torment in front of him, for he was only human, and forgive him for what he was going to do. He was forgiven before, and he would be again. So long as this was the only time, he could repent.

Was this going to be the only time? A small voice in Jayce’s mind repudiates, greed flowing thick in his gut at the thought. No, he did not want this to be the only time. 

His lips press into your skin, metal digging harshly into his lips and he groans. His fingers dig so deeply into you, that you can feel the bite of his nails. He was watching you with desperation, begging you silently to continue. Eager to watch the descent of his rosary as he follows its path, lips glistening with spit as he licks away your taste. 

“Jayce?” 

He shakes his head, eyes locked onto the rosary, and his voice cracks through the air, deep and desperate, “Please, keep going-”

“What of your God?” You mock, legs trying to spread further and Jayce whimpers loudly, arms caging you in and with a smile, you sit up further, rosary still in hand as you grab onto his roman collar to drag his face closer. He wondered if you knew that it was attached to his shirt, wondered if you knew that with each move you make to tighten your grip it drags the entire collar of his robes closer. 

Jayce looked ruined, cheeks red as tears filled his eyes. Once a bright hazel, they bordered black as he looked at you. Red lips glistening, you lean down to kiss his cheek, his beard tickling your lips. His once pushed-back hair was rustled, strands falling into his eyes, and his chest stilled with bated breath. 

“I-” his chest collapses, eyebrows furrowing as he inches forwards on his knees. 

“What would your God say, if he saw you on your knees for anyone but him?”

Anguish fills him, and he can feel the heat trail from his eyes. It's a sickening twist in his stomach that forces him to speak, possessed with desire and want. 

“I don’t care,” he whimpers softly, “I want you, please, darling.”

Hand tightening on the Roman collar, you drag him up further, his breathing stuttering as the fabric around his throat constricts. It's sickening, how it makes his cock throb, how the threat of not being able to breathe makes his thighs shake. Heartbeat in his ears, he watches your eyes flicker across his face, slipping to watch the fabric winkle and threaten to break in your hand. With a smirk, you pull harder, and a choked whine fills the air. His feet scramble to push himself further upwards, trying to alleviate the pain, but it makes his stomach flutter. It makes his mind grow hazy with how you slowly twist your hand. 

Eyes half-lidded, he cants his hips into the air, cock rubbing against the thick black robes. He can feel a burn echoing under his skin, his lungs burning- before, suddenly, you let go. His body falls back on its haunches. He gasps, cold air filling hot lungs and his fingers tingle with the sensation. His hands let go of you, falling to rest on his thighs, gripping tight onto his robes.

Never before had he been denied the basic need of oxygen, but when looking at the wild look of your eyes, he realizes he would let you deny him the basic need whenever you pleased. You’re leaning back on your free hand, smirking as the beads of his rosary are wrapped around the other, cross-dangling with mocking vengeance at him.

He swallows as much air as he can, pushing himself back up to watch as you drop the necklace back onto your skin, over the fabric of your underwear. The silver glint catches the light, blue beads gleaming as you slightly arch your back, the small charm resting against your clothed cunt. 

Groaning, he tries to ignore the alarms blaring in his mind, muted by the blur that you’ve brought. You're smirking still, watching his mind try to fight with him. Fingers inching closer, he slowly slides them under the bands, tempting the resistance with gentle tugs. He knew the consequences of what would transpire if he continued, the greed and irresistible lust that would wrap his soul in chains. Yet, where was his God, if not on the desk in front of him? 

Slowly, he leans forward, palms hot as his lips first caress the fabric. He can’t stop the shiver that runs down his spine, fueling the fire in his gut. You’re so warm, so inviting, your hips pushing against his frozen form and he moans at the wet patch that greets his lower lip. Pulling back slightly, he licks his lip, chills erupting from your taste. Cock throbbing, he grinds into the air, the ghost of his robes providing just a teasing amount of relief. He could feel the dampness that seeped from his underwear, no doubt pooling on his skin. 

He forces himself to move his arms, dragging across your plump thighs to wrap around the bottoms, hooking your knees onto his elbows, and with a yank, he presses his lips against the rosary. His tongue meets metal, and he pushes it aside to lick across the fabric that covers you. Warm from your body heat, sweet from the nectar that soaks it, Jayce clenches his eyes shut and nuzzles deeper. His hips have a mind of their own, fueled by lust and desire as you moan so openly into the air. Unwarned and uncaring if there were any unwanted visitors. Jayce wondered if people would be arriving soon, but it was a fleeting thought, one that dissipated when he could feel you throb under his lips. 

“Jayce- oh god-” you moan, and his body shudders. Maybe it's how you say his name, or how you speak the lord's name in vain, but his thighs jerk closed to alleviate some of the pressure that’s accumulating between them. 

He moans against the fabric, trying to dig himself deeper. The robes around his shoulders protest at the strain caused by him pulling you closer, fabric tense and threatening to rip under the pressure of his arms. A carnal need inside him awakens, teeth inviting themselves into your skin as he bites down on you. Yelping, your knees bracket his head, thighs muffling his hearing before they relax. 

“You’re so eager,” you laugh, sitting up further, it pulls his lips away, and he grunts in protest. A hand is weaved through his hair, and with a yank, you pull his head back. It exposes his neck, and he can’t stop the way his jaw drops. You’ve used your position against him, legs holding his arms hostage. He thinks he doesn’t care, but there’s a pop of thread from his back, and he winces at the strain in his neck. He arches his back to try and alleviate the burn, knees digging into the linoleum, but his robes make him slide. 

Rosary still in hand, you drag the breads that are laced between your fingers across his lips, his tongue extending to meet them. They were warm, and Jayce’s stomach clenched. 

It makes you smirk, and a dark gleam festers in your eyes. Fingers tight in his hair, you slowly unthread the rosary, letting it slide against his tongue and into his mouth. The chain falls to the back of his throat, and he represses the sudden urge to gag, not wanting to disappoint you. 

Jayce whimpers, eyebrows furrowed, eyes pleading as you let the necklace sit in his mouth. The small portrait of Mary sits against the tip of his tongue, and the cross dangles off of his chin. Your thumb hooks into the side of his mouth, pressing against his teeth so he can’t move his jaw. Immediately, drool begins to slowly drip down the chain and off the cross, dripping onto his robes and the ground. It wets his beard, and his hands claw and grasp at any part of you he could reach. 

“If only your God can see you now, Father.”

You smirk as you let go of his hair and mouth, letting him fall back to his place. Tears fall from his eyes, his gaze breaking from yours, but your hand catches his chin. Cooing, you raise until your gazes meet once more, and you shake your head, “Eyes on me, Jayce.”

He tries his best to nod, the cross swinging wildly.

Seconds seem like hours as you continue to watch him. His thighs clench, body squirming under your unrelenting gaze as you watch drop after drop of drool fall. Some land on your thighs, and with slow fingers, you scoop up each one and lick it away. 

“Puh-” he garbles, voice messy and garbled. He doesn't move his hands, liking the weight of your thighs against him, but he does try and move closer. He tries to tilt his head so he can look at your panties again, look at the wet patch that slowly increases in size the longer you see him cry and whimper. 

“Puh- puh,” you mock, pushing yourself up enough to let your free finger tap against the cross, “you have to speak clearly, Father.”

“Hnng-”

“Oh!” You gasp, hand leaving his face to grab onto the side of your panties. He sighs, watching as your fingers hook and begin to drag the fabric to the side, but you stop. You smile and lean back again, you watch him drool and cry and squirm.

“Is this what you want, Father?”

He nods, eyes pleading as he looks at you. His stomach tightens, full of cotton as you shrug your shoulders, “can’t do that with your mouth full, you know. Go on, puppy-”

The term doesn’t go over his head. His body has a visceral reaction to it, jerking hips and a loud drawn-out whimper pushes out of him. Shivering and sweating, Jayce humps blindly into the air, chasing after your voice. 

“Oh, you liked that? Being called a puppy?”

Jayce whimpers again, and he waits for your eyes to flicker to the rosary, for you to nod, before he slowly tilts his head, letting it slide wet and glistening from his mouth. It plops onto the floor in its own puddle, and you tsk as he takes a long gulp of air. 

“Come on, puppy-” his head snaps up, your head tilting to the side as your fingers slowly tread over the front of your panties, “come and get it.”

A flip is switched, God could damn him to hell. He could be thrown from the congregation altogether, he was going to taste you, and he felt like he was going to die if he didn’t.

Rosary forgotten on the floor, Jayce wraps one of his long arms around the top of your thigh, pushing your hand away to pull the fabric himself. A hand grabs the lining, and his teeth grab onto the fabric, and it's nasty how you moan when it tears. His hand grabs hold of your torn panties, and with a final breath, Jayce dives between your legs. 

It's frantic, how he flattens his tongue and drags up through your folds. He coats himself with your taste and drinks it down like holy water. Your head drops back, and you sigh openly. Leaning back, you brace yourself on your hands, watching his ruffled head of hair move wildly to try and drink every last drop of you. 

He finds your clit last, wrapping his lips around it in a soft kiss, before his teeth drag against it, your calves jolting in surprise. His hips are constantly moving, matching the way his tongue moves up and down the expanse of your cunt, through your labia, down to circle your tight hole, and then back up to your clit. Unexperienced, Jayce moves with the sound of you. He moves with your body. How you whimper lightly when his tongue presses against your entrance, how you tense when he suckles against your clit. 

Your hips tilt down when his tongue explores further up, guiding him to your clit, and with quick strokes, he lets his drool mix with your slick. His nails bite into your skin, keeping you still enough so he can solely focus on you. Beard scratching roughly on your inner thighs, you smile at the burn. Heartbeat in your ears, you let your fingers thread through his hair, a warmth radiated from below your gut, but you knew that what he was doing wasn’t going to be enough.

“Your fingers-” you gasp, and Jayce listens obediently. The hand not occupied with holding your panties untangled from your leg, bending at the elbow to press his middle and ring finger against your tight hole. Thick fingers press inside slowly, twisting so the pads face the ceiling. He doesn't move them, instead focusing on how your clit pulsed under his tongue. How loud your voice was when he first entered you. He moans lightly, can't help himself from inching closer. His hips find an erratic rhythm, broken pleasure coursing through his veins as heat begins to pool in his lower abdomen. It crawls up his spine and settles deep in his bones as his hands tremble with their grip. You're canting your hips, chasing after a pleasure only he wants to bring you. 

“Puppy,” you groan, “your fingers, move them.”

He whimpers, curling his fingers up and shuddering as he feels your back arch. The pleasure in your gut is dialed up to one hundred, flaring into an unquenchable thirst as Jayce eats you. His tongue circles around your clit, pressing messy, uncoordinated, kisses into your flesh. He’s devoted all of himself to your pleasure, praying to you that you’ll cum around him. That you’ll soak him with your juices. 

Jayce tries his best, he really does. His moans vibrate against your clit, fills your bones and you find an inch of sympathy for him. Moving your hips, you aid him, pushing you further and further to your orgasm until you're shuddering and telling him to-

“Don’t fucking stop, Puppy- make me cum, come on- Yes, yes, yes,” your thighs tremble, tighten around his head, and your back arches. Your lungs burn for air, skin boiling as you feel that raw heat consuming you from within. Jayce moans, shivering as your tight walls pulse erratically around his fingers, cum pooling at his knuckles, slides down the back of his hand. It's sticky, wet, and warm. He’s high off of your taste; sweet, yet tart. 

Hips stuttering, he can feel his stomach unbearably clench, thighs shaking as he cums. He earns for air but continues to lick at your cunt. He doesn’t want to leave you, yet. He doesn’t want to be parted from this unyielding pleasure you bring to him. 

You’re shaking as both of your hands pool in his hair, pulling the strands in an attempt to detach his lips from your cunt. Back arched against the desk, your legs try to jerk closed, your orgasm rearing its head back to drag you down a painful road. It's a hot pain that dances through your bones, muscles tight as Jayce flattens his tongue against you once more, slowly licking away the cum that leaks from you. 

Sweat beads on his brow, his jaw aches, and his legs are trembling. There’s a blissful pleasure that courses through him at the feeling of your writhing form beneath him. He’s barely pulling away long enough to breathe, too consumed with your taste to even notice the burn in his chest. 

“Fuck, Jayce- stop-“ you weakly plead, hand leaving his hair to push against the desk, trying to pull yourself away from him. 

Finally, after hearing the broken sob that leaves your lips, he pulls back with a gasp. Arms unthreading from your legs as he sits back on his haunches, face soaked with you, cheekbones stained with his tears, he looks at how your cunt is swollen, hole pulsing where his fingers once were. 

It’s filthy, how his hand reaches to grasp at his cock, only to find soaked robes and still throbbing. There’s so much cum, leaking through the layers of fabric to soak his palm. He clenches his eyes shut to stop himself from leaning forward and tasting you once more.

When his head finally becomes less fuzzy, he opens his eyes and finds you already sitting up on the desk, watching him with half-lidded eyes and glistening lips. He can hear chatter from outside his closed door, and fear floods his body. First, he grabs his spit-coated rosary, and slides his thumb over the beads. Sighing, Jayce encases it in his fist and tries to push himself to stand, legs weak and knee buckling as he grabs onto the edge of the desk. He finds himself bracketed by your thighs once more, your face close to his. 

Your hands come to hold his waist, sliding around and leaning around to kiss just below his ear. With the increasing volume of people outside, Jayce would have no time to change his clothes, no time to clean his cum from his skin- but there was enough for you to grab the loose end of his robe, bring it to his mouth and wipe away your cum from his beard and lips. 

He doesn’t forget to lick them and taste the remainder of you that stains his skin. Sin coats his tongue, coats his fingers, and his clothes, but he would go out there in front of the whole church, and try to ignore the judgmental, knowing stares, of God's children. 

Sliding your hands down his arms, you wiggle your fingers in his fist, loosening his grip on his rosary and grabbing it once more, using his own robes to briefly dry them off. You bring it to your lips, press a kiss to the cross, and then place the necklace back around his neck. 

“Worship is starting, Father.”

Temptation is Jayce’s worst enemy, and it’s in the form of you.

[axrix]

bull hybrid! sunghoon?? basically anything.. just strong and bulky sunghoon with his primal urges

sunghoon IS SO BULL HYBRID! OMG

pairings: bull hybrid! sunghoon x fem! reader

warnings: dom! sunghoon, dubcon, breeding, creampie, sex without protection, degradation, pet names, lactation kink, friends to lovers(?

____________________________________________________________________________________

bull hybrid! sunghoon with his little bff! reader. u knew ur friend was a hybrid but he never tell u whát kind of hybrid he was and u never get to ask him bc u are too shy about it to do it.

he never tell u unit today, when u were talking 'bout other guys, u were saying that the last guy you had been with hadn't made u cum either, u never had and u were pretty tired of trying. he was so jealous, why other guy can have u and him no? why u never ask him to help u?

that brings us to now, where sunghoon is on top of u pressing u against his bed, huffing again and again as his horns slowly become visible.

"s-sunghoon? what-"

"shut up" he interrupts you, bringing his hands to your pants to pull them down "u always talk about other guys in front of me, u don't care about my feelings y/n? now you're going to fix it for me"

bull hybrid! sunghoon who starts to undress you while you try to tell him to stop because he's scaring u

"i'm scaring you? u've always wanted to know what kind of hybrid i am, now u know."

bull hybrid! sunghoon who touch ur clit when u're only with ur panties making u whine couse u knew he can feel how wet u were even if u were asking him to stop

bull hybrid! sunghoon who knew u want it from the start couse he was smelling your arousal and he was going to let u know that he can't stand u being a brat.

bull hybrid sunghoon! who thinks u're really cute when u see the size of his dick.

"s-sunghoon, it's to big, it won't fit"

"of course it will fit, u are made for me and ur little cunny is going to be shaped like my cock from now on"

bull hybrid! sunghoon will be so enthralled by the desire to feel you that he wouldn't even prepare u entering u in one thrust making you cry out.

bull hybrid! sunghoon who can't belive how tight u are, squeezing him like he'd never felt before.

bull hybrid! sunghoon who is so proud of u when u start moaning

"look at u, moaning like a little slut around my cock, u love it, right?"

bull hybrid! sunghoon who know he isn't gonna last when u start cleching because u're going to cum

bull hybrid! sunghoon who only thinks about breeding u till u're full of his cum

"i'm going to breed u, u're going to be my cumslut and gonna love it"

bull hybrid! sunghoon who will start pounding deeper in u making u come, mumbling to him to stop because it's too much.

"u never come and now u think is too much? i help u and u don't want to help me in return? u're such a whore who only thinks of herself"

bull hybrid! sunghoon who watch u trying to say something but u were to fucked dumb to do it.

bull hybrid! sunghoon who cums in ur little cunny making u feel so full.

"i-im so full sunghoon"

"i think u're perfectly breed know, i can't wait to suck ur milk baby"

bull hybrid! sunghoon who keeps fucking u and breeding whenever he wants because he needs to be sure and knows u love the fact that he uses u.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

[madthetruemad]

fiercely

ex-general!jing yuan x fem!reader

cw ; fantasy!au, blood, death, attempted murder, sexual assault (not with jy), smut, p in v, fingering, grammatical errors, reader referred to with she/her pronouns, abusive boss, y/n does get slapped once (not by jy), etc. (two men break into y/n's home but before they could do anything, she is saved so don't worry).

summary | you work at a bakery owned by a woman you greatly dislike. and every day you hand out meals to the owns less fortunate. and one day, you meet a silver-haired man who comes to your rescue in the dead of night who you then ask to become your guard.

4.5k words, my longest oneshot yet!! im genuinely proud of this one *smug grin as i pat myself on the back* anyway, I hope you enjoy reading!!! 💞

Crouching down on the snow-covered, stone path, you rifled through your basket and gently held out a loaf a bread to a man who wore worn-out and battered armor.

“Sir?”

You called out to him gently, silently praying that he wasn’t dead, but thankfull not even two seconds after you called out to him did his head move. He had an mess of long, silver hair and from beneath it you could see two, bright gold eyes peek at you.

“Thank you…,” his words were quiet as he solemnly took the bread from your hands. You nodded to the man and stood up to which he noticed how the dirt from underneath the snow had dirtied the edges of your dress. He went to apologize for making you crouch for him on his behalf, but you were already gone, moving to the next who was slumped over.

“If you want food from her again, come when the sunsets and is about to disappear.”

The silver haired man looked over to another who had a missing leg and was hobbling towards him with an almost broken stick.

“Does she hand out food often?”

“Every day, morning, noon, and then sunset. Three times without fail.”

The disabled man plopped down next to him, “do you want me to call back to her for you?”

He shook his head, “she already gave me some food.”

“How is she able to afford so much? Is she a noble?”

“Nothing of the sort, boy. She’s a baker.”

“Boy?”

“Anyone younger than me is just a boy.”

He chuckled softly at the man before taking a bite out of the bread.

Meanwhile, you had finished handing out the food you had and started back towards the bakery you worked at was to prepare for the lunch rush that was about to happen. The bakery itself was owned by the woman who had taken you in. She was a mean woman who lived comfortably in a big house with more than enough money to keep her and her family going for over 70 years. Honestly, with how mean and cruel she was, you would work somewhere else, but … you love cooking, and she promised that if you made enough money then you would be able to buy the bakery from her. You, a poor servant girl owning her a bakery someday. It was a dream you were determined to strive for.

Truthfully, you didn’t want to buy the bakery from her, but it was better than building your own and trying to complete with her for customers when you didn’t have nearly as much money or influence as her. So, just trying to buy off an already existing bakery was the best choice for you.

“Feeding those dogs again?”

The moment you opened the door, you immediately winced. Her voice was like sandpaper, rough and unforgiving as she greeted you the moment you walked in.

“They- they aren’t dogs,” you managed to say, but the moment you did her heavy hand was quick to strike against your cheek sending your head snapping to the side and a dark mark to appear across your (color) skin.

“Did you waste perfectly good food on dogs who can’t pay?”

You looked back at her and shook her head, “I paid for it all.”

She scoffed, “keep taking care of the stray mutts and you’ll never have enough for this bakery.”

That… was true. If you couldn’t save money then this place will be just a dream to you, but you couldn’t abandon those people.

With risk of getting hit again, you kept quiet as she grabbed your wrist and pushed you two the kitchen, “lunch rush will be here any minute, girl. The cook is already back there, help him get everything prepped and then get ready to serve customers who actually have money.”

You don’t know how you managed to keep your mouth shut as she shoved you into the kitchen

“Good you’re here, go get me-,” the chef looked at your face and noticed the bruise that started to form causing him to sigh, “you know not to talk back to Matiilda.”

“I know, I know Brason, but she- she talks poorly of those people, it makes me so mad sometimes,” you said as you went to go fetch whatever he wanted. He didn’t say what he needed, but this was routine for you by this point.

You handed him the ingredients he needed and then set off to get the utensils. Outside of the kitchen you could here the tables being prepped by another server who just walked in. Your boss, Matilda, never lent a helping hand, well, not unless she was hitting you or pulling you to go somewhere of course.

“Here you go, need anything else?”

Brason shook his head and shooed you away, “go help the other waitress out there, and try not to get Matilda’s bedside again. If you keep doing so, she’ll change the deal she has with you about this place.”

You nodded, “I- I understand.”

“Also, be glad Matilda didn’t notice the mud clinging to the bottom of your skirts. You know how she feels about that.”

You nodded again before heading out of the kitchen. The rest of the day goes by without a hitch with the exception of a few men catcalling you and another grabbing at your thigh. You were able to shake them off, but with some trouble.

“And that should be enough!”

Brason looked at all the food you had paid for. All of it slowly being put into a small cart you had invested in.

“You taking that to the-“

“Yes, I am,” you said cutting him off, “thank you for cooking my order, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Brason nodded as he went to clean up the kitchen and lock up for the night as you pushed the cart out of the bakery. Your hands steady as you went to the poor district.

Many had greeted you warmly as you started to pass out food and others would silently thank you. You would do your best to nod and smile despite the throbbing pain in your cheek. And then, you finally came to the silver-haired man from before, but this time he was talking with someone you recognized.

“Miss l/n,” Charles greeted. He was nice man who fought in a war this country had, and sadly he had lost one of his legs during it. You were always sure he got something to eat.

“Good evening Charles,” you said as you squatted down to hand him his food, “how are you feeling?”

“Better than yesterday.”

You nodded as you stood up to get another, and moved to squat down in front of the silver-haired man, “for you.”

This time you didn’t have to call out to him. He was fully awake and ready for you, but what you were surprised about was his clear focus on you as he accepted the food you offered him. Most people here never had such clear focus, their eyes usually dulled and never as bright as his were.

“Thank you and uhh Miss l/n was it? That mark on your cheek. It wasn’t there this afternoon.”

“O- oh, this? Yes, I am a bit clumsy and accidentally … fell into a door! Yes! That’s it! The door handle bruised my face when I fell down!”

Charles huffed beside the man, “a terrible liar as always… the woman she works for, Matilda, hates how she hands food out to us, so every once and a while she likes to take her frustrations out on the poor girl.”

“Charles…”

The man huffed again, “don’t try to deny it, that woman is wicked and I won’t let you hide her abusiveness towards you to make us feel like the world could do no wrong.”

“I understand Charles,” you went to stand up, “anyway, I better hand out the rest, I’ll see you all in the morning.”

You gave them a small wave as you went back to your cart to finish handing out the rest, and when you were finally done you went to push your cart towards the direction of your home. It was a little outside the city in a small little cottage, but to you it was home.

Once you got to your home, you happily opened the door, pushed the cart inside and stored it off to the side before rushing to throw yourself in bed. You needed a bath, but for now you wanted to press your face into your pillows. Though, a part of you did remember how snow still clung to your boots you didn’t take off and the mud that still painted the edges of your skirts to your dress.

Guess you’ll be washing your sheets tomorrow too…, but you decided to ignore all of that for now as you closed your eyes, sleep being all too tempting as you felt yourself start to drift off.

No dreams inflicted you this time, but you were quick to startle awake when you heard something break and slam open. You had shot up in your bed quickly. Eyes wide and alright as they tried to adjust in the dark.

And it was as clear as day when a new sound started to echo within the house.

Footsteps…

C R EA K C REA K C R E A K

You could hear how your floorboards ached under the weight of someone walking towards your room causing you to jump out of your bed and run for your window, but when you got to it and started to fiddle with the latch to get it to open, a rock crashed right through it barely missing you as you let out a scream and stumbled backwards.

“Hey! You didn’t hit her in the head with that rock did you,” a man called out from your hallway as he entered your bedroom.

Another had forcefully knocked out the rest of the glass in your window before climbing in himself, “she’s fine, just spooked her was all.”

You ran to your bed, though you knew that the blanket you used as a shield will do little for you.

“This is the girl Matilda told us about, yeah?”

…Matilda…?

“What, what does she have to do with this,” you managed to ask. The man chuckled softly at your meek sounding question, “bingo. Looks like it is her.”

He moved to come towards you causing you to yell at him, “answer my question!”

You were trying to stall for time, trying to find a way out, trying to survive-

One of them laughed loud at this, “don’t worry, she didn’t hire us to kill you, she just wants us to teach you a little lesson about stray dogs.”

You could feel yourself start to shake as he undid his pant’s belt buckled the other taking off his own shirt.

“Stay- stay away from me!”

The slimmer man of the two (the one who climbed through the window) grabbed the blanket you were holding and ripped it from your grasp before grabbing your arms.

“No, no, no, no! Get off- get off of me! Someone- anyone Help me, please help me!”

You screamed at the top of your lungs as the bigger man grabbed your legs and forced them open while bunching your skirts above your waist despite your efforts at trying to kick him in the balls.

“Please save me!”

As the two were struggling to get your clothes off, you saw a shadow of another in the doorway making you cry harder. She sent three of them?!

Though, instead of coming to assist the two men like you had thought, the shadow moved too fast for your eyes to see, but you could see the glint of a blade in the moonlight that escaped into your room, and you watched as the blade arced and slashed sideways.

Your breath caught in your throat as a spray of blood spurted from the bigger man’s neck. His head instantly detaching and falling into your lap. The shirtless man cussed and let go of your arms, but before he could grab anything to defend himself with the sword had ran right through him, straight through the heart. Blood was quick to fill his mouth and pour from his lips like a waterfall as he fell forward into the blade. Though before his dead body could even touch the shadow, the shadow had removed his sword from his chest and moved aside for the body to fall face first into the floor.

Then the shadow turned to you making you crawl backwards into the bed.

“Please, don’t be scared, miss l/n.”

That voice… it belongs to the silver-haired man!

The shadow stepped into the moonlight that cascaded into your room, and you could clearly see his face now since he had tied up his long silver hair back. His golden eyes trying to hold a comforting look in them.

“How… how did you know-“

“I saw those two following you… I- I am usually a good judge of character, and I, well, I hoped I was wrong, but…,” his voice trailed off as he walked up to you. You froze in place when he reached for you, but instead of grabbing you, he had gently grabbed a hold of the bottom of your skirts that were bunched up at your waist and gently tugged them down to your ankles so that you were once again fully covered.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner,” he said as he stepped back and went to retrieve your blanket from the floor and handed that to you as well.

You shook your head as you gratefully took the blanket from him, “n- no, I- you- you saved me, so thank you.”

His smile was gentle before his gaze fell to the bodies, “I will take care of them.”

“What should I do?”

“Rest there, I’ll be back, I promise.”

To show you that he will return, he rested his sword against a wall and then lifted both bodies and the head as if they had weighed nothing and left your room in a hurry.

You weren’t sure how long he was gone, but it felt like hours before you heard your front door open and your breath to hitch.

By this point, you had lit a lamp next to your bedside and even cleaned up most of the blood that had gotten on your floor. Your eyes were now focused on the entrance to your bedroom, and you could feel yourself let out a sigh of relief when you saw the silver-haired man walk through your door.

The man looked around before nodding and heading to get his sword, “well I-“

“Please don’t go!”

You called out to him when his back turned. You didn’t know what to say when he looked back at you, but you came up with something quick.

“I didn’t get your name.”

He smiled at you, “it’s Jing Yuan.”

“Jing Yuan,” you tested out the name on your tongue. It was foreign, but you liked the sound of it when it left your lips.

“And you, miss l/n?”

You realized that he didn’t know your first name, so you gave it to him.

“Y/n L/n,” he mimicked you by testing out your name on his lips.

“Jing Yuan?”

“Yes?”

“Would you … like to be my guard? You can sleep in the extra room here and I can pay you too!”

“You want me to be your guard?”

You nodded, “just in case Matilda does something like this again… I’ll- I’ll feed you too! And even get you new clothes, or- or buy you as many weapons as you want.”

He gently quieted, a small chuckle leaving his lips, “I have no need for your money, but… a place to stay, some food, and some new clothes won’t hurt.”

“Then you mean?”

He nodded as he fully turned towards you, “I’ll be your guard from now on.”

And true to his word, Jing Yuan was your guard and he guarded you fiercely. And now that you both were living together, you got to know a lot about him like how he was a general in a foreign land, but was exiled due to corruption within his people’s government which explained why he had no belongings or money on him. As for you, he learned how Matilda took you I as a servant and how poorly she treated you. He also learned of your determination to get the bakery for yourself one day and promised to help you get it.

And, of course, with living together came other things too…

“I- I’m so sorry,” you all but screamed as you slammed the door to the bathroom shut.

You could hear his laughter from inside causing a rush of embarrassment rush through you.

You both had been living together for two years now. And Matilda has sent men after you a total of twelve times now, but Jing Yuan was always there to protect you.

Despite all of this, however, you never saw him naked… granted, he only had his shirt off, but it was still embarrassing especially since you gained a crush on the man.

He was overly sweet with you, he taught you things and was ever so kind to you and only ever asked for food and new clothes when it comes to protecting you. Not to mention that he was hot, it was only a matter of time before you fell for him.

“You know,” he started as he leaned against your bedroom door, “there is nothing shameless about seeing me without a shirt.”

“I just don’t want to intrude on your privacy- YUAN,” you all but screamed his name when you turned around to confront him, but this time he was only in a bath towel that hung around his waist, and all too visibly, you could see the outline of his-

You shook your head and turned back around, “how dare you tease me! You’re so mean!”

“Am not.”

You could tell how his voice sounded closer than before which was another thing you had learned about him while living together. He walked without a sound.

“Yuan-,” your breath hitched when you felt his chest press against your back, his heat radiating off of him in waves.

“Tell me to get out of your room,” his voice was soft as he spoke to you, “tell me to never act this way with you again.”

You felt his arms wrap around your waist, “tell me no.”

You turned within his hold, you could feel how your face just felt absolutely on fire, but… you’ve been selfishly pining for this man for two years now. The two of you having living together and nothing happening besides the occasional cuddle session on the couch or a comforting hug to get through the day.

“I want this,” you managed to say looking up at him, “I want you.”

He pulled you closed, your breasts pressing against his muscled chest, “are you sure? Because if we do this… I’m never letting you go.”

“Then hold onto me fiercely.”

He smiled when he bent down to seal your lips together. His arms shifting so that his hands could grab a hold of your hips and press his hardening bulge against you.

“Then I’ll love you just as fiercely too.”

He gently pushed you back towards your bed, and when the backs of your knees hit the edge you fell backwards, and he was quick to follow after you. His body caging you in as he pressed his body weight down on you. Your hands went to grab a hold of him. Your fingers pressing into his shoulders as you held onto him.

He detached his lips from your own for a mere moment as he let go of your hips to get your dress off. His fingers worked on your tied strings and buttons before cursing, “apologies sweet girl.”

“What- Yuan!”

You watched as he easily ripped your dress open just to look at your nude form.

“No panties?”

You huffed and looked away from him, “it gets freaking hot in here since it’s summer and all-“

He laughed lightly as his eyes roamed your nude figure. And almost curiously he let his fingers trail up your thigh before going in between your legs, and cautiously he let his fingers run along your folds causing a small sound to escape your lips. The sound made him grin as continued to lightly play with your cunt as he leaned back down to capture your lips again. And all too easily he got you to play to his tune.

“Yu- Yuan,” you sung his name with the softest of voices.

“Has anyone seen you like this? Touched you like this?”

You shook your head as he slowly pushed a finger into you fluttering hole. Your walls immediately clenched around his digit as you shifted your hips up, “mmm- ah! Feels weird putting your finger in there, Yuan!”

He pressed soft kisses onto your neck in response as he slowly began to pump his finger in and out of you, the way his finger grazed your inner walls had you keening and a loud moan broke through your lips the moment he added a second.

“Just like that, love,” he said as he watched you buck your hips into the palm of his hand. His eyes all but mesmerized at the way your hole clenched around his fingers, and when he felt that strong tightening around his digits, he pulled them out. Your whine for him to put them back in causing him to laugh lightly, “relax, we’re not done yet.”

You looked at him through half-lidded eyes as he let his bath towel fall. How he managed to keep that wrapped his hips was impressive, but you decided to ask about it later when your eyes landed on his cock.

“Can you spread your legs for me, sweet girl?”

You liked how he asked you, you liked how sweet he was with you, you liked his gentleness. Which was how you found yourself opening up your legs for him, and when you felt his leaking tip press and slide against your folds, he caught your eyes.

“We can always stop.”

You shook your head, “I want to keep going. Please, Yuan.”

He smiled down at you before leaning in close. His arms coming up to rest on either side of your head on his elbows so he wouldn’t squish you or hurt you, and truthfully the closeness now was much better since his lips were in kissing distance.

“Hit me, push me away, hell even hit me with that oil lamp if you want me off of you, alright?”

“I will, but that won’t happen.”

“It’s just a precaution, love.”

You shut him up by capturing his lips, and he took that as a chance to push the tip of his cock into your cunt. Your walls seized around him the moment he was halfway in and he knew what was happening when you clamped down unexpectantly when he had pushed all the way in.

You gasped and moaned into his mouth when you came around his cock. Your hips bucking hard up into him as he clenched his teeth and started to slowly thrust into you, working you through your orgasm.

“I- I didn’t expect you to do that,” Jing Yuan all but gasped as your cunt gripped him like a vice, “s- shit.”

He stuttered and gasped like a virgin as your pussy clung to his hard cock. His moans were just as loud as yours as he stroked your insides hard and fast. Feeling you like this, he knew he wouldn’t last not while you started to meet his thrusts with your hips.

The tip of his cock reached far in you, it hitting all the right spots as he angled himself to hit your cervix, “you- I’m not going to last,” he said as you wrapped your legs around his hips, “you need to put your legs down.”

You shook your head as you caught hip lips again, “inside,” you managed to moan out, “cum inside me,” you said against his lips. He all but growled against your lips as he pushed his weight down on you. His thrusts becoming harder and more eractic as he chased his high and yours. And just as you came again, he finally released hot, white spurts of come into you. His cum was hot as it soaked your insides as you coated his cock with your own arousal. And when he stopped to catch his breath, you expected him to pull out, but instead he shoved his cock in deep to plug up your hole. The action made you gasp as you felt his tip hit your cervix.

“You wanted my cum, so it stays right where you wanted it.”

You hugged him closer to yourself, your bodies molding together like a imperfect puzzle.

He protected you fiercely and loved just as much.

“You… you better get me a new dress.”

“I’ll get you a thousand dresses,” he says as he pulls away a bit and reaches for your nightstand. Sitting up, you gave him a confused expression as he pulled out two boxes and handed them to you. Before you could open them though, he had rolled over taking you with him so that you were sitting on his cock and straddling his lap. The new angle made you wriggle in his hold.

“Open them,” his voice echoed softly as he grabbed you by the hips and just as you were about to open the first one, he lifted your hips and slammed you back down his length. A moan ripped through your lips as he grinned up at you.

“Focus, love, don’t you want to see what I got you?”

You wondered how he got the gifts into your drawer without you noticing but couldn’t ask with how his cock was splitting you. So, with any focus that you could muster, you went back to opening the gifts despite the way he had you bouncing on his dick.

“A- A ring?”

“Mmm,” he hummed nodding, “a wedding ring…, if you’ll have me.”

Your lips trembled, you would of cried if you weren’t being fucked onto his cock.

“Though, with the way your cunt is hugging my dick, I guess that’ll be a yes.”

You nodded unable to form words as you shakily put the ring on your finger and carefully you started to open the other one.

“A- a key?”

“It’s-“ his voice got cut off when you came around him again, your third orgasm being as unpredictable as the first, “a key to the bakery. I bought it for you,” his voice was shaky as he filled you up again.

"Yu- Yuan!”

You all but cried out for him when you flung yourself down onto him, your arms wrapping around his neck so you could hold him still and kiss him hard.

He planned to hold onto you forever, even if it meant destroying all who opposed you. But meh, Matilda had what was coming to her anyway.

“I love you.”

“And I’ll love you just as fiercely.”

[pupkashi]

Ok so can i request something?

Im currently on my period and i feel my insides tearing apart. Im having rough months cause my roomate who was also my best friend got in a fight with me and blamed me for everything (that wasn't even my fault) and my final term exams are here as well :((( imagine all the pressure

Can i get something soft with toru?my period is killing me and I would KILL to have this man with me rn

a/n: me when a bad bitch tells me to write comforting fluff 🫡 in all seriousness i hope this helps you even a smidge my beloved !!! i know how terrible and hurtful fights with friends can be from personal experience and i hope things get resolved for you soon <3 i love u so so so much you sweet summer child I’m so proud of you & best of luck on exams !

masterlist

sundays are your favorite days, you’ve decided.

sunday means you’ll have a warm, lanky, white haired sorcerer asleep next to you when you wake up. his arms tightly wrapped around your torso with his over grown hair tickling the back of your neck.

it’s sunday morning, and satoru is wrapped around you like a koala bear. there’s soft snores coming from the tired sorcerer, making you wonder what time he got home last night. the clock on the nightstand reads 7:42 am, making you smile. you don’t move or try to turn to face your lover, opting instead for reveling in his warm embrace, letting your eyes close softly and listening to his steady breathing.

satoru is awake by the time you wake up again, he’s drawing light circles on your bare arms. you turn around slowly, finding him laying on his side propped up on one elbow with his head in his hand. part of his hair is spiked up every which way, the other completely flat and there’s stray strands of hair all over his forehead.

“morning sweetheart” he whispers, smiling softly as he wipes away an eyelash from your cheek. the pad of his thumb brushes against your cheek, his hands are a bit calloused and rough, but you don’t care. you let your eyes close at the feeling, smiling before fluttering them open again.

“g’morning toru” you whisper back, smiling as he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “d’you get back late last night?” he nods.

“first years had more trouble than i thought they would” he adds on, “you didn’t wait up did you?” there’s a pout on his lips when he sees you nodding.

“not too long though don’t worry” you assure him, flopping onto your back and staring at the ceiling, “knew youd be upset if you found me awake when you got home.” satoru smiles, you had him all figured out and he loved it.

“can’t have my baby losing sleep over me, now can i?” his voice is still raspy and deeper than usual, it makes your stomach flip and your heart stutter.

satoru moves around until he’s got his head resting on your chest, closing his eyes when your fingers find purchase in his hair. you both stay quiet for a bit, your fingers running through his hair and satoru letting his body fully relax under your touch.

“missed you” he mumbles, not opening his eyes. “wish everyday could be like this” the sigh that leaves his lips makes you frown a bit.

“don’t worry angel boy, one day it will be” you assure him, continuing to play with his hair, smiling when you form it into a giant spike before combing it down again. “for now, you wanna make breakfast?”

the sorcerer hums in agreement, standing up and stretching before the two of you head to the restroom, grabbing your respective toothbrushes.

“any plans today?” satoru asks, words jumbled and muffled thanks to the toothbrush in his mouth, but you understand him perfectly. you shake your head ‘no’ the two of you spitting and rinsing your mouths before heading to the kitchen.

there was only one way satoru would eat his veggies, and it’s if you made them in his eggs. while you chopped up some bell peppers, mushrooms and rinsed spinach, satoru put coffee to brew. small talk filling the space of the kitchen as you two slowly woke up.

it’s not long before satoru was wrapping his arms around your waist, letting his head rest on your shoulder as he watched you cook the eggs. he’s placing soft kisses on your neck, smiling when he hears your giggles.

“your hair tickles” you laugh, making no attempt at pushing him off you.

“should i get a trim?” he asks you, laughing when you immediately respond with a quick ‘no!’

before long satoru has two coffees on the dining table, accompanied by two plates of food that you set down moments later. it’s peaceful as the two of you talk, hearing the world outside wake up, cars going up and down the street every five, ten minutes and birds singing sweetly by the bird feeder you’d set up with satoru not long ago.

“think a dove is setting up a nest in the garden” you smile, watching as your lover immediately looks up from his food excitedly.

“really? i told you we should’ve gotten the bird houses!” his eyes are gleaming as he stares out the window, smiling at the sight of two doves at the bird feeder. me and you, he thinks, staying quiet so he could continue to listen to you tell him of the new season premiere tonight.

the day passes slowly, with you two lounging on the couch watching an episode of whatever show you two had started during the week before getting ready for the grocery store.

satoru takes grocery shopping you very seriously, writing down every item you say on a paper list as you check the pantry and fridge. soon enough the two of you are on your way to the store, satoru grabbing a shopping cart and following you as you pick out everything.

he does make himself useful by getting whatever you tell him to, smiling widely when you approve of his fruit picks and sets them in the cart gently. he does all of the heavy lifting, carrying all your groceries in the house in one trip, not even breaking a sweat as he softly sets them down.

the two of you work harmoniously putting everything away, never once bumping into each other and easily understanding what the other wants without having to say a word.

“should we do takeout tonight?” he asks, looking down at you. the two of you freshly showered and now on the couch. your head in his lap as you both wait for the new episode of your show to premiere.

“yeah, what’d you have in mind?” you ask. 20 minutes later the two of you are eating dinner, drinking a bottle of wine satoru picked up on his way back home.

it seems unreal to satoru. being home. no matter how many weekends he spends with you, they all seem to be like a dream. he doesn’t care much for the show on tv, but he still sits with you and watches it for the full hour, listening intently to anything you had to say.

its dark out, and to both you and satoru’s dismay sunday has come and gone all too quickly. you’re both back in bed, in each others warm embrace. conversation topics come and go quickly, the two of you laughing loudly at any little thing.

“oh my god it’s already two in the morning” you gasp, looking at your lover with a shocked expression, “how do we always manage to talk all night?” satoru laughs as you try to pull the blanket over yourself, as if that would instantly make you fall asleep.

“time flies when you’re with the love of your life” he sing songs, joining you under the blanket and looking at you with fond eyes.

“that’s not how that goes” you tease, watching as he rolled his eyes, muttering a ‘come here’ before getting you back in his arms, peppering kisses over your face as you giggle.

“toru you have to be up early!” you scold, the smile on your face is a juxtaposition to your words. and you can’t help but smack him softly when he points it out.

“alright, alright” he sighs, turning off the dim lights and leaving a mixture of moonlight and streetlights illuminating the room. “let’s go to sleep then.”

it doesn’t take long to get cozy, the weeks exhaustion still prominent as you two begin to doze off quickly. satoru tries to keep talking, but his words don’t make much sense as they’re muffled against the top of your head.

“g’night toru, i love you” you whisper, holding him a bit tighter as he replies, already half asleep.

“g’night sweetheart, i love you.”

sunday ends the same way it began. with satoru wrapped around you like a koala, his streaky breathing lulling you to sleep. his body radiating warmth that makes you feel more sleepy. you can hear his soft snores after a couple minutes, it makes you smile.

you don’t dwell on the fact that come tomorrow morning, his side of the bed will be cold and you’ll have to go back to your routine. instead you sigh happily, letting yourself enjoy your lovers company on your favorite day of the week.

taglist (send an ask to be added): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi @kentocalls @sadmonke

[zorosnavigator]

Timebomb fics rec

A lot of timebomb fics are hiding through a lot of CaitVi/JayVik tagged works on ao3 (while many are also CV orJV centric) so i made this rec post for everyone who dont want to spent 1 hour scrolling or missing some of them bc you're filtering other ships!! (sorry for the short summaries/ i didnt write my thoughts as thoughtfully as i would have liked because.yk.time and all. update chapter count/add of new fics every week)

AU/crossovers fics

Je t'aime (Je t'attends) 3 chapter, WIP.

Hunger games x Timebomb/Arcane, the way the system of the games from the og novels are mixed in the Arcane universe is really masterful, the writer dont lose too much time explaining it but you understand the dynamics of the 2 cities and the characters perfectly anyway.

Where would you be now ? by enaven 5/6 chapters, WIP.

family/modern AU, timebomb feels, Ekko and Jinx are Isha's parents, CaitVi are just silly aunts and i'll never stop recommending this fic

you're the best thing to ever happen to me (but also the worst thing to ever happen to me) by grey_toiletpaper ( @greytoiletpaper ) 3/8 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

Timebomb inspired by 10 things i hate about you.

We Moved Into a Real House (a Wild Field Behind it) by smokesatellite 3/10 chapters. WIP. Rated T.

Modern AU, Timebomb roommates/friends to lovers, Isha is a foster kid...you know where this is going .. (Ekko as a nurse is not something i expected but its surprisingly good. Also the in law feud between Jinx and Cait is very funny)

s1 fics

Silco is less of an asshole

The Heart of Zaun by 1ts_Br1tney_B1tch 8/ chapters. WIP.

or: Silco try to rally the Firelights to his cause (in this case, Zaun - he's much more involved in doing better for his city than in the show) but of course they're bound to have some..tension between them, since they hate him - and Shimmer. (it has the good parent Silco tag so i'd say that all in all, this Silco is a little less...Silco than in Arcane, but manage to keep some of the bite he has in canon...) i only read 2 chapters, and what i can say is that it does a good job with the general cast, the interactions between Silco/Ekko-Firelights are believable, i think the one thing that could have weird me out is the way Silco is said to be 'proud' of the Firelights in the summary (for me 'pride' is something he'd reserve for Jinx yk?? anyway i stop the rambling) . The Timebomb relationship has more or less the same push and pull as in the show, with Ekko thinking about the girl Jinx used to be/ Ekko being a link to the past before Jinx and all that entail...so yeah, i'm loving it!

Powder doesnt become Jinx

The Alpha Command by typewriter_in_galaxy 13 chapters. WIP. Rated E.

ABO/Reverse AU where Powder doesnt become Jinx and is raised by Viktor, Ekko is taken in by Silco. btw i dont read a lot of abo fic (im very nickpick) but this one does every characters justice, and actually dwelve in depth in the abo universe.. (everything by typewriter is good to be honest, but my favorite thing is how they write Powder, who even when she doesnt become Jinx, is still shaped by a very violent world/trauma and it shows through her mental health issues and very, very low self worth/need to prove herself. )

everything's better with a friend by typerwriter_in_galaxy 7chapters. Completed. Rated E.

Timebomb centric rewrite of Arcane, Jinx is Powder, she doesnt fall under Silco's hand (or in his arms precisely), Ekko is Ekko, and 1, i need to hug Powder, 2 she deserves the world and 3 the characterization of everyone, everyone is so brillantly written and the timebomb relationship (damn even the CaitVi one too) oh, the timebomb of it all... they feel so, so real and it hurts, Powder's insecurities, her mental illness, her guilt, her need to prove herself but in same time she doesnt feel herself worth of anything (or anyone) good... just.read it. read it, because i just did, after like 2 years of not doing that and. im like mad bc why didnt i??? but in same time so grateful to just discover it now, taking my sweet little time reading it; it rewinded my brain its amazing, (like this work in another fandom, the first time i read this rebelcaptain's fic A Love song by skitzofreak - did i just linked it for you to read even tho its a timebomb rec post??? yes. yes i did. thats how much i love, adore, worship this one guys - so everything's better made me think a lot of this TB fic, and also of RC (the abandonment issues, thinking that you have to leave first before everyone leave you, Jyn and Powder damn).

Shattered Web by Firewolf2132 1 chapter. WIP. Rated M.

you know how everyone make the comparaison between Ekko and Miles?? well, the author found a way for Ekko transform into a spiderman that feels right in the arcane verse (end of act1) and damn its so good. Ekko slowly morphing and gaining his powers while everyone still have some focus on them (mostly Powder), but it still manages to keep the suspense of the fate of other characters. fabulous. author note: [I have seen so many comparisons between Ekko and Miles and a lot of fanart. So it felt that I had to do this. I can't promise future chapters right now (busy), but I am eager to see if this inspires any stories with a similar premise.]

S2 fanfics

fics covering Timebomb moments between ep 8 Ekko saving her /they painted each other and ep9

Go Back For Her by A_Lily_In_The_Moonlight 3/3 chapters. Completed. Rated E.

Ekko's pov -i only read 1 chapter - we see his thought's process on his relationship with Powder AU/ Jinx, and how he came to the conclusion he must go back to her. the moment where he help Jinx with his Z-drive comes a little differently than in ep8 (well, the aftermath) aaand another fic where Jinx's grief over Isha's death shatters me, the pain and the self loathing/blaming from Jinx really devastating.

I dont believe in God, but i believe you're my savior by mquesterminds One shot. Rated T

[summary: every time Ekko has to rewind time to stop Jinx it cuts to a different moment from throughout their love story because I'm allergic to happiness the moments covering their shared past really make their present 10 times sadder.]

I'm sure we're taller in another dimension by hallwayheart One shot. Rated M. i have nothing to say because i'm still processing what i just read.ty.

Fires That Were Set by ilophilia ( @ilophilia on tumblr) 1 chapter. WIP.

the conversation after Ekko helped Jinx in episode 8. Loved the banter, the emotions (the grief is there and its important to feel it but damn i want to hug them so bad). They tell each other what happened when Ekko was gone, and you feel the distance/the closeness, near intimacy building again and its beautiful..

Hope is a winged beast by Grey_ Unicorn 4 chapters. WIP. Rated E.

prepare you tissues because i was myself not ready for chapter 3 and the emotional wreck of Jinx processing her grief. but here we are.

fics from AU Powder pov/exchange between Jinx and AU Powder

what we left behind by re_dragon_rising 3/3 chapters. Completed. Rated T.

Powder traverses to the og arcane universe 1 year after Ekko's visit. (the insight into her life after Ekko leaves is wholesome and also give the reader a glimpse of the Mylo/Claggor/Powder siblings dynamics + the impact of Vi's death on them. really great. a little sad too.)

The other Ekko by GrammarThyEnemy Oneshot. General audience.

Powder knows this Ekko is not her Ekko.

memento vivere by fuwaaa 1/2. WIP. General audience.

covering the AU episode, Powder knows something's up with Ekko.

See Ya On The Other Side by moth_dust 3/5 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

Powder also travel to the og universe.

these forgotten faces by whippindippin ( @whippindippin on tumblr too!) 6 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

Jinx and Powder body swap and its both the worst and best thing that could ever happen to either of them. great reading and their reaction on point.

Isha is alive

Astrantia by AelinCreativ ( @aelincreativ they're on tumblr too!) 5 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

canon divergence where Ekko saves Isha. a lot of angst. but also a lot of happiness. so we can cry while smiling along with them. great. ty author!!

Ankle-Biter by darkfire1220 8/9 chapters, WIP. Rated M.

Isha is Jinx's biological daughter, Silco is a not so bad (grand) father, and their mother/daughter bond is one a the greatest thing ever. (very slowburn timebomb). Also Vi. i love you Vi.

post s2

we made our peace with weariness (and let it be) by The_FlamingTiger 3/3 chapters. Completed. Rated M.

Ekko and Jinx reconnect in Bilgewater..(and Jinx goes to therapy. that too. its nice)

I don't believe in God (But I believe that you're my savior) by yeonatsu Oneshot, general audience.

Ekko is mourning.

this hunger for love won’t disappear by Amuria Oneshot, rated T.

Months after the battle for Piltover, Ekko begins to dream of Powder. He thinks it’s his grief playing tricks on him. She has different theory.

Francesca (Do You Think I'd Give Up?) by PoetProlific 2 chapters. WIP.

Ekko tries searching for Jinx...(with the help of Caitlyn, yep. and its well done, because I think Cait would help, for Vi. And i love how Ekko-Cait's dynamics might evolve because of this..)

So I met him there and told him I believe by ijustwanttoreadinpeace 3 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

Jinx begins a new life in Bilgewater but is forced to come back... (edit: be warned, this is now an orphan account so idk if there will be more chapters.)

all the 6 timebomb one shot by atabex (the other fics are not timebomb) they're all rated E and oh boy is it worth it. most of these oneshot are gut wrenching and do smut + characters so well... the most recent one is just Ekko and AU Powder ahem doing the boombayah on the rooftop, but yk, with bits of sad and tragedy here and there.

i'm a little ashamed i'm only adding it now but every TB os fics by @shroomystar is 🤌 nothing else to add because each one of them are good. so. (if you want the explicit one-shots it's here and if you prefer without, it's here )

[agi-ppangx]

prayer (lee minho x gn!reader)

ᝰ brief mentions of nudity, making out, suggestive but nothing explicit happens !

ᝰ an: i experimented with this one so im not really confident bc im not really proud of it BUT i like the idea itself, so im posting it regardless of what my stupid brain thinks....... anyway, i hope you'll enjoy and remember - feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽

“stop squirming!” you scolded minho as you came back to the bed and situated yourself in his lap. he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, a subconscious reflex he gained over the years while being with you. 

“but i don’t want to,” he whined dramatically, throwing his head back. you smirked, ignoring his words and took a colourful makeup palette in your hand. his face was already covered with foundation, the shade perfectly matching his honey toned skin. he looked ethereal in the dim light of the bedside lamp.

“close your eyes,” you commanded, taking a fluffy brush in your other hand.  

“what are you putting on my eyes?”

“it’s a secret.” minho scoffed at your words, earning a light smack on his bare arm and he obeyed with a huff. you gently put the shades on his eyelids, blending them together to make it look nice and even. in the meantime, minho’s hands snuck under his t-shirt you were wearing, squeezing and caressing the flesh on your back and hips. a shiver went down your spine, making it harder to focus, but you tried your hardest to evenly put the glitter in the corner of his eyes. he smiled softly as his fingertips were discovering your body for the millionth time, his touch feather-like on your burning skin. 

suddenly the air in your bedroom thickened and you felt too hot, your cheeks tinted cherry. it didn’t go unnoticed by minho - he also felt the energy shift. your hands got a bit shaky, the brush now gliding unevenly over his eyelids.

“open your eyes for me,” you whispered, trying not to show what effect his touch had on you – not that minho wasn't already aware. as you examined your work on his face, his hands made their way to your waist, squeezing the flesh and you jumped at the sudden feeling. 

“minho!” you squeaked, dropping the brush on the sheets. “i swear i’m gonna kill you,” you added with a pout and he giggled, caressing your sides with a smirk. you shook your head, closing the palette and putting it on the sheets. you put your index finger under minho’s chin, making him look up ever so slightly and the glitter on his skin sparkled in the yellow glow from the lamp. you examined your work, brushing the remnants of glitter off his cheeks with the tip of your finger. your touch was soft, almost non-existent, yet minho still leaned to it, wordlessly begging you not to break the contact. 

“are you done?” he asked quietly, impatient. he didn’t want to sit still, he wanted to kiss you, to let his hands roam over your smooth skin, to never leave the house again and to keep you with him forever. he was greedy like that, but how could he not be when you looked at him with so much adoration, when your touch was so soft on his skin, when his heart was so full of you he could hardly call it his own?

“almost,” you said, reaching for your lip gloss to put on his plump lips. he observed your every motion, how your body moved so beautifully - everything about you was alluring. “pucker up,” you ordered and this time minho didn’t even protest, completely infatuated, as if you somehow hypnotised him. his hands found their way to your hips once again, caressing them. you straightened your back, examining how his lips looked with the red tint. “okay, now i’m done.” minho smirked at your words, his impatient hands finally grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head. you yelped at his sudden action, feeling too exposed despite him seeing you without clothes plenty of times. 

minho placed his hand on the small of your back and quickly but gently laid you down on the mattress. his eyes were full of hunger, the glitter on his face making him look like a god. “now it’s my time to paint your face,” he whispered, placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek, then another and another, leaving a red trail of the sticky lip gloss all over your burning skin. a sigh left your lips when his mouth met with your clavicle, one of your hands found its way to his hair, threading your fingers through his messy locks as the other one pushed the makeup products from the bed onto the soft carpet. 

you let him consume you entirely, because you wanted him just as much as he wanted you, and when his desperate hand roamed all over your bare body you only let out small please, minho’s name leaving your lips like a prayer.

ᝰ taglist: @astraystayyh @laylasbunbunny @l3visbby @like-a-diamondinthesky @hanjsquokka @xichien @inniescandy-01

[g4yforethan]

CLOSE

pairing: steve rogers x male!reader

summary: after a sesh of working out, steve takes this time as a chance to have some alone time with reader

warnings: cursing, kissing, ass!eating, bottom!steve, top!reader, praise k!nk

a/n: the way i've had a crush on chris evans for years is insane like i NEED him.

it was a regular day at the avengers compound. you and steve had been training for what seemed like an eternity. "alright just 5 more y/n. you got this!" steve yelled at you as you were on your 4th set of jumping jacks. you finished and wiped your sweat off with a towel. steve gave you a pat on your back and the two of you sat down."that was some good training right there y/n. im proud of you." steve got up to get you both a water bottle. you couldn't help but notice how fat his ass looked in the shorts he wore and how they suited his ass so well. you had a crush on steve for a while and it seemed like he knew too with the way he teases with you at times.

he turned around to walk towards you and you tried to look away before he noticed. "haha looking at something?" he teased before sitting down next to you. "no no i wasn't trust me." you body langauge spoke for itself as your face turned red and you tried to hide the obvious boner you had. "look i know you've eyeing me for a while now and im flattered but-" he paused as the two of you made eye contact with each other. "listen it's just us two today. how about we give into your fantasies and lets' go up to your room?" you were taken back but you wanted this moment.

the two of you went up to your room as you locked the door and steve quickly took off his shirt. you did the same and got close to him. "fuck you're so beautiful." steve said as your lips met and his hands wrapped around your waist. 'i've been wanting this for so long." you said in between breaths. "yeah well now you're gonna get it." steve said as he unzipped his pants. "caught you staring at something earlier. you wanna eat it don’t you?" you nodded yes as steve turned around and laid his ass in your face. you smacked his ass and began leaving kisses on his ass. you licked and kissed his hole as steve moaned out your name. "fuck keep doing that." he put his hands on your head so you could dig deeper into his ass.

"good fucking boy. you wanna stick your dick in me?" "fuck yes." you replied as your cock was about to burst by itself. you slowly entered steve and laid your hands on his muscular back. he moaned as your cock dug deeper into him and his thick, muscular ass clapped against your dick. you started going at a faster pace and at a certain angle which perfectly hit steve's prostate causing him to grip the bedsheets.

"fuck y/n right there. that's the fucking spot." you enjoyed fucking his hole and grabbed his hair as he naturally arched his back. steve started rolling his eyes back as his moans and ass-clapping filled the room. "i wanna ride that dick of yours before you cum." he said as he pulled out. you laid on the bed as steve took your dick and inserted it inside him. he rode your dick as you touched his ass and rolled your eyes back out of pleasure.

"fuck steve. that feels so good." you said as steve bounced up and down on your cock. he stopped as you wanted to finish in missionary. he laid on his back as you went back inside his hole. steve raised his legs up and crossed them for you to hold for balance. you went faster and faster as steve panted and moaned out of pleasure. you wanted to fuck his hole forever but you felt it. "fucking cum inside me y/n."

steve said as he saw the eager look on your face. you came inside his warm and tight hole as you kissed him. "fuck i feel your nut in me. it feels so fucking good." you laughed and noticed he hadn't finished yet. "you didnt cum? you need help getting there." steve knew what you meant as you turned him around and began sucking his cock from the back. you licked his hole and cock to give steve more pleasure. "ahh fuck. you're so fucking good y/n." you took his cock and sucked on it while also gagging on his 9 inch dick.

"ah ah fuck im gonna cum." he came inside your mouth as you swallowed his warm and thick cum. you got up and laid next to him. you both were a hot and sweaty mess. "hey how about we hop in and get some dinner?" steve said as he rubbed your belly. "haha yeah thats fine." steve got up as you looked at his ass again. "fuck. that really is america's ass." he turned around with a devious look on his face. "you wanna continue this discussion in the shower?" he said as your grinned and rushed to the shower.

[dear-slim]

i just keep thinking about Eminem reacting to this new rapper girl (that he have been helping out in the music industry) and she releases a new song that is full Slim Shady Coded and he gets shock

(me & friend keeps talking abt this but we can't find anywhere a fic like itt

Warnings: swearing

Pairing: Eminem x fem!reader

A/N - MY FIRST REQUEST 😍😍 I gotchu boo, and excuse the cringe song name I made up at 10pm, half drunk and half asleep.

Also ChatGPT made these lyrics so don’t mind me

And, I wasn’t sure what you meant by slim shady coded, like, as in, something slim would sing or something related to him.

Dating another rapper wasn’t really what you expected when you joined the industry. Of course, it came with its classic ‘she’s only famous coz of Em’ bullshit, but you never paid mind to it.

Both you and your boyfriend knew perfectly well that you were a hit even before he’d entered the scene with you. All he’d done was promote your music with you, all of which was your own shit.

In his own words, he’d done nothing but be a good and supportive boyfriend, and he was right. Now, you usually ran your songs past Em, you wanted to know his thoughts and if he could make them better. After all, trust the pro, right?

But this song was a little different. You didn’t even know how you’d managed to keep it under the wraps, writing down lyrics in your notebook and staying up past when Em had fallen asleep to brainstorm lyrics.

Em was a key part of your life, he was helping your throughout the rough patches in your career, and the little surprise you’d planned was definitely something he deserved.

“Yo Em,” he heard a voice as he walked into the studio. Usually he’d hang with you, so he was pretty surprised when he heard a male voice coming from behind him, as he turned to see his long-time friend, 50.

“What’s good?” Em said, a little dazed, as he gave his friend a fist bump nonetheless. “Was just listening to some samples from your girl,” 50 explained as Em raised a brow.

“Some samples, hm? What song? She ain’t been writing one for a bit,” Em said, his eyes narrowed a little suspiciously. Em managed to catch a CD that 50 had thrust had thrust chest, as he walked over to the player, still a little bemused.

It was unlike you to keep a song hidden from him, as the tune to some song started.

Welcome to the circus, where the clowns run free,

Life’s a wicked game, and I’m holding the key.

Got the world on a string, watch the puppets dance,

In a realm of absurdity, I’ll take my chance.

Holy shit, that was crazy. He hadn’t expected a sudden change of style…and wow, it was damn hot, actually. He found his cheeks tinged a slight pink ad he thought about it, how you’d look in the studio, with the lyrics…

Yo, I’m rolling with the Shady, chaos in his eyes,

Life’s a wild ride, no need for disguise.

He’s a lyrical genius, wrapped up in a mess,

With a heart full of fire, but he’s got his stress.

He’s the king of the madness, got me feeling alive,

In a world of illusions, he’s the one who’ll survive.

With every twist and turn, I’m right by his side,

In this rollercoaster life, it’s a hell of a ride.

Em had to genuinely take out the CD, coz this was madness. He’d have never expected to see this from his girlfriend, even if you were a badass rap artist, but this was crazy. And extremely hot, at the same time.

“50! I said wait til I was here to show him,” he heard your voice as he turned round, eyes locking in yours, his lips parted in shock slightly as you flashed him a grin. “So?” you said, asking for his opinion as he spluttered, unable to formulate a sentence.

“Im taking that as a good sign,” you laughed nervously as he coughed. “A good sign?” he said, jaw going slack as he stared at you, “baby, this is amazing, this is gold!”. A proud smile jumped to your face at his words, cheeks tinged red.

“You think?” you asked a little sheepishly. “I think? No, baby, I know!” he said, hands coming to squeeze at your shoulders. This was gonna be a damn hit, and he was not complaining. Simply, just, further proof his girl deserved to be in the game.

[taintedcigs]

𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃彡

rockstar!steddie x reader

summary: dating two rockstars is fun, except when you get caught breaking their rules, and your punishment ends up in the form of some festive fun — tied up with christmas lights.

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up irl im so serious), spanking, punishment?, daddy kink (but its so very light do not look at me im so seriously embarrassed), oral (m receiving, good old bj), kinda rough, dom/sub dynamics, mean!dom!eddie, mean!dom!steve no use of ‘y/n’, degrading, praises, nicknames!

authors note: the banner thingy of this is making me laugh i tried ok. graphic design is my PASSION.

Taming brats. 

That was something Eddie was really fucking good at. 

Expert even, especially after he started dating you. And once Steve was thrown into the mix, you were unstoppable.

Acting out more than usual, being a teasing little slut.

It all happened with a drunken night out after their show, three-way kissing, and hours of making each other cum led to one realization; the three of you worked perfectly, and you and your boyfriend were more than okay to open up the relationship to Steve. 

To Steve it was all so exciting, this new dynamic, the fun stuff the three of you tried, the punishments, the edging, the overstimulation, all the new kinks, intrigued him to no end. Yet, Steve still had one problem; he wasn’t that good at being a dominant. 

Whether it was him apologizing to you and not being able to fully punish you, him letting you be bratty, or him letting some of your actions go unpunished just because you looked at him all prettily. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t like being a dominant, he did, he really fucking did. So much so that he was doing everything he could to not fuck it up and make you and Eddie proud.  

It was that he was just very new to this, while Eddie had his fair share of kinky sex stories, and so did you, all Steve had were some hookups here and there, the groupies he had weren’t that interesting; the wildest thing he ever did was some dirty talk, and maybe getting his dick sucked at a public bathroom. This was a brand new territory he was trying to get adjusted to. 

The two of you were more than okay with helping him adjust to it all. Eddie loved teaching Steve about you and your body, what you enjoyed, what made you squirm, what made you instantly cum and of course; how exactly to punish you the right way. It all sounded perfect as an idea, but Steve could never execute it well. 

Whether it was because of those puppy eyes you did, or the whines that he drew from your mouth anytime he tried to put you in your place, or the begging and the sweet-talking, Steve didn’t have it in his heart to go all the way, which earned him the ‘soft daddy’ tittle you giggly called him all the time. 

So, Eddie wanted to teach him how to do it properly, in a way that was enjoyable and comfortable for all three of you, clearly, he knew you better than Steve did, and he knew his sort of punishments were always something you took pleasure out of, so he wanted to show Steve that, make him realize how good it made you feel, and how the dynamic truly worked. 

And this was the perfect time to show him, especially when you broke one of the most important rules. 

Steve sat on the edge of the bed with his arms crossed against his chest, disappointed, angrier than you ever saw him, you with your head drooped low and your hands behind your back, and Eddie with that goddamned smirk on his lips leaning against the wall, tilting your chin upwards with a tut. 

You were naked, fingers still coated with your juices, a slight guilt flashing across your eyes​​—but not really. Because you wanted to be caught, you wanted this punishment. Wanted the attention. 

Especially when both of them were so busy with work since New Year’s was coming up. They were either at gigs or at the studio, not even letting you come with them because you were ‘too distracting’.  

So, once again when they left for the studio, you had an idea. An idea that would surely bring out a mean punishment, yet the best pleasure. 

The second you heard the door getting unlocked, you were naked, laying on the bed, turning on your vibrator, knowing that once you let out a few slight gasps, the two of them would end up in the room, and all of their attention would be on you. 

“Eds, I swear I—I didn’t even cum!” You muttered with a whine. 

Eddie barked out a chuckle, mocking you. “That doesn’t mean shit, baby, rules are rules.”

“Steve!” You whined all brattily, turning to him with a pout, expecting to earn some sympathy from him, because you always did. Yet, there was something different this time, a darkness his gaze didn’t possess until now, you’d be lying if it didn’t make you rub your thighs together in excitement. 

“Don’t think you can try to get out of this one by sweet-talking me doll, not gonna work,” Steve mumbled, the nickname rolling off his tongue with all the pent-up anger. 

“Now we have to punish you.” He narrowed his gaze, making you swallow. Shit, he’d have to cave eventually, right? Because this was Steve. 

“And I’m sure, that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Our attention?” You don’t answer, knowing that anything coming from your mouth could get you more into trouble, and Eddie scoffed at the state of you, that devilish grin playing on his lips. 

“Steve, honey, can you get those Christmas lights?” He asked sweetly, a smile flashed his way, and nothing but a scowl flashed yours. 

“L—lights?” You asked with a pout. Fuck, lights meant trouble, because you hated how tight they were, and you hated not being able to touch them. 

“Yeah, have to bring out the big guns, you’ve been so bratty lately. Such a shame too, because you were doing so good honey, when was the last time you were all tied up?” He quizzed mockingly, face inches away from yours. 

“I don’t remember.” You mumbled.

“Aha, that’s why we need it back, and so that I can teach Steve how to tie our little slut up, isn’t that right?” As if on cue, Steve came back with a grin, the long string of Christmas lights in his embrace. 

“Thank you, baby,” Eddie hummed excitedly, pressing a harsh kiss on Steve’s lips, flushing his cheeks a salmon pink, before he made a show of the strings of light, wrapping it around his hand, and grinning while he made his way over to you. 

Steve sat on the edge of the bed again, and Eddie motioned toward you. “Lie down on Steve’s lap, face down.” With a quick huff, you obeyed, crawling over his lap, making a show of it as you wiggled your ass in the air, enjoying the low hisses from both men. 

“Arms behind your back, slut,” He hisses, and you’re quick to obey, crossing your arms over your back, watching as he plugs the lights into the outlet, a grin overtaking his face as they light up. 

He stretches them forward before he begins tying you up, twisting them around your arms, making sure your wrists are steadily restrained, before he loops them around your hips and your legs, making sure it has a tight hold on you. 

“Look how pretty you look like this.” He grins, watching the way the Christmas lights illuminate your skin as he lands a harsh smack on your bare flesh, and you yelp dramatically over it, skin burning with the impact. You try your best not to giggle, not to make him know that you’re enjoying this, because you want the punishment to be over as soon as possible. 

You need to cum. And you know Eddie can, and will edge you till’ however long he wants, so as much fun as it is to be a brat, you need to behave, for these next ten minutes, or try to seduce Steve in some way, you knew he tried to be tough, but you always managed to break him. 

Eddie kneels next to you, while Steve squeezes your ass, his cock stirring more and more you whimper for him. “Steve’s gonna spank you five times,” Eddie taunts with a grin, and you nod, trying to ignore the flutters in your stomach the more you feel Steve’s grabby hands. 

“That is unless you want some more?” Eddie challenges with a raise of his brow.

“N—no!” 

“Good girl,” he praises, and fuck, does that make your stomach instantly tumble. 

“Make it rough, Steve, she enjoys that shit,” he spits, fingers teasingly dancing around your shoulder. 

“She sees you as her soft daddy, she thinks you can’t really punish her, you gotta show her that you own her, too,” Eddie mocks with a slight grin, enjoying the way Steve’s gaze is overblown with lust now. 

“Is that right, honey?” Steve hisses, all mean and biting. Something you haven’t seen to this length, something that was making you so intrigued that you could barely speak. 

“Nuh-uh,” you hummed, head dipped into the couch, before Steve had a harsh grip on your chin, making you face him. Chocolate gaze growing darker, and pupils blown wide. 

“Need you to count for me, honey, can you do that?” You nodded, quick and obedient, and Steve was starting to understand how good it felt, to have you surrender to him, his cock stirring at your doe-eyes. 

His hand raises in the air, the smack of it much softer than Eddie’s, but still rough enough that you feel the sting, a warm feeling overtaking your flesh, causing you to yelp at the unexpected intrusion. 

“You can be rougher, baby,” Eddie encourages, enjoying that pure hunger in Steve’s amber hues, and he’s quick to nod. 

“I thought you said you could count, slut. Is that pretty little head of yours so full with the thought of our cocks that you forgot to count all of a sudden, doll?” The nicknames roll off his lips like a warning, tone so coarse that you immediately tense up, apologetic gaze meeting his dark ones.

“S—sorry, Stevie,” you muttered, his sudden dominance making your body tremble, and your cheeks flush with heat. “O—one.” 

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He coos, hand smoothing over your reddened skin, reveling the way you shudder under his touch. 

He spanks you again, and another yelp falls out of your lips, this time much harder than before, you can fully feel the pain, and Eddie watches the two of you in awe.

“Two.” 

His hand gropes your ass again, massaging over your heated skin, and once again, harsh smack lands on your marked-up flesh, much rougher, but easing the second he carefully traces over it. 

“T—three,” you mutter, moaning into the pillows your head was smushed in. 

You feel another hand join Steve’s, but your attempts to look up at Eddie are turned down when he tuts, “Focus on your punishment.” 

His fingers are teasing as they make their way up to your trembling thighs, drawing whiney breaths from you. He uses his index fingers to spread you apart, both him and Steve groaning at the sight of your puffy clit. 

His fingers find their way inside of you, earning shaky moans while you try to push yourself back onto him, to have more, to feel that fullness, and all Steve does is chuckle at you, at how pathetic you want them both, rutting against Eddie’s fingers while you moan. 

And just as you’re about to beg for more, beg to have both of their cocks, two harsh slaps land on your ass, one on both cheeks, the two boys grinning devilishly as they watch the way their handprints mark your ass. 

“Four,” you mumble, words scrambled together when all you want is more from them, the mocking making you wetter and wetter. Especially when Steve is being all mean for the first time.

“You didn’t think it’d be that easy, sweetheart, did you?” Steve mocks with a pout, and you moan into the pillow again. 

Steve kneads your sensitive skin, while Eddie’s fingers are still inside of you, your ass is burning, but it feels so good that you can’t help the whines that leave your mouth. 

“Such a fuckin’ slut for us, aren’t ya? Soaking my fingers just for being spanked, told you she likes it rough, Stevie.” Eddie pushes his fingers fully inside of your walls, thumb toying with your clit, so agonizingly slow that you bite down on the pillow, incoherent babbles leaving your lips. 

You need this punishment to be over so that you can have both of them, it’s so pathetically overwhelming and teasing that you don’t even realize what you’re begging for, just when you’re about to push back on his fingers again, the roughest slap comes, and you cry out at the impact. 

You’re sure your ass is practically burning now, but it feels so good that you’ve basically already melted into the sheets, body feeling frail with how turned on you really are. And, thankfully this was the last.

“Five!” You wail out with excitement filling your tummy, Eddie’s fingers slip outside of you with that, you’re too fucked out to register any of it, the pain subsiding and fast to turn into pleasure when Steve is kneading your firey flesh, it has you feeling so painfully empty that you’re looking at Steve with pouty lips and a desperate gaze. 

“Good girl,” Steve praises, pressing a sloppy kiss on your bruised skin, and you whimper at the cold feeling, cheeks fluttering at the much needed praise. 

“N—need more, please,” you mutter, it’s a long shot, and by the way they’ve both been so mean, you knew neither their teasing nor the punishment was going to end soon. But, fuck, were you desperate. 

Steve barks out a laugh, it’s evil, and just as mocking as you’d expect, but not from Steve. Eddie looks almost as surprised, but so very proud, because both of you want this dynamic to work, and for Steve to be in this as much as the two of you are, and it looks like it’s finally working. 

“So fuckin’ mouthy today, aren’t ya?” He coaxed, picking you up to roll you over to the bed, hands grabby before he turned to Eddie. 

“I think we should put those pretty lips to use, baby, what do y’think?” Steve quipped, gazing at Eddie with the need for approval, and Eddie’s cock stirred at the both of you. 

Steve submitting to him, still taking a bit of control to dominate you. Fuck, this was exactly what he wanted. 

“Get on all fours for your daddies, pretty girl,” Steve hummed, leaving a playful smack on your already marked-up ass while you yelped, pussy clenching around on nothing. 

“Do you know how fucking hot you are when you order her around like this?” Eddie groaned, his hand gathering curls at the nape of his neck, gripping it tightly to pull him in for a kiss, all teeth, and no mercy. Greedily sucking at each other’s tongues, ignoring all of your squirming. 

You’re so unbelievably wet and you need something, anything. Seeing the two boys kiss is not doing you any good, so you just mewl with such desperation that both of them break apart from the kiss with a dark gaze. 

“I said all fours,” Steve hisses, but you pout, struggling to stand while your hands are tied behind your back, and your body is wrapped around the lights, making your skin glow in the best way possible. 

“Aww, can’t do it on your own, sweetheart?” Eddie taunts with a pout, and you’re quick to nod. 

“You need our help, baby?”

“P—please,” you muttered, almost embarrassed.

“You want your daddies to fill all your holes is that it, slut?” You nodded vigorously. 

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat, speak up,” Steve chimed in. 

“Y—yes, please, please I need both of you, need both of you to fuck me, please—” your rambling was cut off by Eddie’s dark chuckle. 

“God, so fuckin’ desperate, should we give her what she wants, Stevie?” He nodded off toward Steve, a mocking pout on his lips. 

“I do want to punish her more… but I also need that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock, she’s been too mouthy lately, don’t ya think, Munson?” Steve groaned loudly at the thought. 

“Mhmm, and I should fuck her pathetic little pussy, show her who really owns her, yea?” Eddie grinned toward you. 

“You definitely should, does she think she can make herself cum better than we do?” Steve asked tauntingly. 

“N—no I don’t! P—please need both of you s’bad, ‘m sorry, I won’t touch myself again, daddies, I promise,” you cried out, desperate, enough to have both of their cocks ache with the need to fuck you. 

“You’ll be sorry, sweetheart, we’ll make sure of it.” Both of them were quick to get rid of their clothes, joining you on the bed, Eddie holding you by your hips, and Steve steadying you by your shoulders, both sets of angry red tips facing your holes. Eagerness ignites a fire in your entire body. 

“God, I was going to stretch you out a little bit, but look at you sweetheart, practically gushin’ for me and we barely did anything.” Eddie grins, fingers toying with your soaked clit, and you whimper loudly, looking up at Steve with hooded eyes, excitedly waiting to get what you were promised for, your entire body feels like it’s on fire, everywhere they touch burns, and you want nothing more than to have them fuck you, anywhere and everywhere. 

Steve barely jerked his erected cock before he dragged it over your lips, smearing his beaded pre-cum all over, mixing with your gloss. Starving, you were quick to lick it all away, that salty taste coated your tongue and you hummed. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He almost lost it there and then.

“God, she’s soakin’ my fingers, Stevie.” Eddie moaned, relishing in the squelching sounds your pussy made the more his fingers entered inside of you.

“Please,” you whispered, desperately pushing back on his fingers, trying to get more. 

You turned your head as best as you could. “Please, daddy. Fuck me.” Your tone was sultry, making Eddie groan. 

“And, please, fuck my mouth daddy, I deserve it,” you muttered, this time faux innocent gaze at Steve’s, his mouth hanging open, eyes lulling as he looked down on you. 

With a slight groan, “Open up,” he ordered, and you opened your mouth eagerly, while he dragged his aching cock inside, watching the way you quickly wrapped your lips around his length, sucking on it greedily.

“Her mouth is heavenly, Munson, you need to fuck her while I’m fuckin’ her mouth,” Steve groaned loudly when you bobbed up and down. 

“Open her up, Eddie, really fuck her, use her like the little slut she is.” That was all the encouragement Eddie needed, his fingers left your hole with a slick sound, emptiness making you whine around Steve’s cock. 

You didn’t have much time, or even the space to complain with Steve’s cock hammered into your mouth. You couldn’t see Eddie but you could feel him shift behind you, his hot tip teasing against your entrance, pre-cum smearing all over your clit, making you whimper crazily around Steve’s cock, driving him further into a pleasure he didn’t know existed.

You were at your fucking limit. Only when the head of his cock teased against your slit that you let out a sigh of relief. He pushed his cock inside, the hold he had on your waist was bruisingly rough. 

He pushed and pushed his way inside, cock slipping easily through your soaked folds. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

It always amazed you how fucking big and thick he was, stretching you out in every way possible. 

His groans were guttural, and so were Steve’s, especially when his hands wrapped around your hair halting his cock into your mouth, realizing you were too fucked out to do it properly. 

“So sloppy when you get your holes filled,” Steve tutted, “fucking love it when you go all dumb on our cocks like this, such a perfect little cock sleeve for us, aren’t you? Just waiting to be used by your daddies, hmm?” He hummed, eyes stuck on you when he yanked you by your hair again, pumping his cock further into your mouth. 

You whimpered in an attempt to nod, crying out once Eddie pushed in deeper inside of you, cunt clamping around him and so very willing. Your pussy was his. 

And you felt full, so fucking full.

“Shit, shit, fuck! She’s so fuckin’ warm and tight, Steve.” Eddie grunted, voice ragged, his weight on top of you, as he poised all the way inside of you, and you tried your best to adjust to his cock. But, fuck, did he always stretch you out, make you feel all of him. 

“Jesus, baby, look how perfectly your holes are taking our cocks, it’s like you were made for us, huh?” Steve almost growled, fucking your mouth with ease while he enjoyed the way you gagged around his cock, tear-streaked cheeks, and looking up at him with those alluring eyes. 

All three of you were about to fucking lose it. It was all too much, all so fucking good, making your body feel like jelly while they manhandled you in the best way possible. 

He slammed into you rougher, not stopping until he was sure you were full of him, same with Steve, filling you all the way in. You felt achy in the best way possible, and their grunts sounded lewd and angelic at the same time. 

He pulled out and slammed back in. Just as brutal but his hips picked up speed, the more he fucked into you, the more you took Steve into your mouth. Creating the perfect harmony between the three of you. 

You felt like you were going to explode, mind going hazy with everything. And of fucking course Eddie could tell, with the way you were squirming, thighs shuddering, and your tender pussy gripping his dick nicely. 

Your mewls and whines were muffled by Steve’s cock slammed down your throat. “Shit, honey, are you gonna cum already?” Eddie asked with a low groan. 

You nodded, as best as you could with Steve’s hold, eyes pleading, begging, so fucking desperate that neither of them wanted to hold you off. 

Besides, your punishment wasn’t edging tonight. 

“Pretty girl, cum for us, baby, soak Eddie’s dick,” Steve grunted, teeth grinding together, just barely holding all of it. It was making him feral watching the way Eddie’s thick cock plunged into you, while you took his cock into your mouth, like the good fucking girl you were. 

He almost looked at Eddie for approval, and he nodded quickly. “Cum for us, sweetheart.” His words were all the encouragement you needed. Muffled noises tumbled from your mouth as Eddie’s cock hit spots you didn’t even know existed and brought you over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you, pussy shuddering around Eddie’s cock.  

“Our perfect girl, cumming just from us using your holes, shit,” Steve cursed, desperate to give you all of his load, make sure you never spilled a fucking drop of it.  

“God, she’s so fuckin’ tight when she cums, Steve, don’t think I’m gonna last,” Eddie growled, his thrusts dramatic, enough to have the bed creaking with a squeaky noise.

“Come with me, baby, let’s fill her up at the same time, hmm?” Steve grunted.

“Yeah, you’d like that, baby? You’d want your daddies to fill all your holes?” He taunted with your chin in his hands, Eddie’s rough hold on you was making it harder to focus, you just came but you simultaneously needed more. They were so fucking addicting. 

“Shit, you’re so fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart, I’m gonna fuckin—” Eddie rambled, so deep inside of you that you whimpered around Steve’s cock, making him grunt like a madman. 

“Me too, Munson, shit!”

“Gonna give you so much of my cum you’ll never get it out of you, princess, fuck!” It was a promise, his thrusts were brutal, bruising, and fucking divine. 

“S—shit baby, I’m—fuck! I wanna see you swallow all of my load, not one fuckin’ drop—oh fuck!” Steve added.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Both of them yelled in almost perfect sync. Thick cum filled inside of your walls and shot down your throat, it looked like Steve was too fucked out to tell you to swallow, and you beat him to it, sucking him dry with an exaggerated humming sound. 

Eddie was still unloading inside of you, seed spilled so deeply that it made you feel so warm, making his eyes roll to the back of his head. Both of their cocks and cum filling your holes, darkened gazes staring down at you, and it felt fucking amazing. 

You loved the little praises, the ‘good girl’ and ‘perfect girl’ they uttered before they placed thousands of kisses over your skin. Yet, you were nowhere near done, no, this was just a little taste. And you were hungry. 

“A—are you going to untie me now?” You asked, unwillingly, bringing that desire spark back into both of their gaze in an instant.

“Oh, sweetheart, you thought we were done?” That mocking voice was back like it never left, and you couldn’t help the way excitement pooled your tummy again. Shit, they were fucking good. 

“You wanted to cum, didn’t you? We’ll make sure you’ll cum, over and over, creaming our cock till you physically fucking can’t anymore.” Steve added, both of them grinning like a Cheshire cat, knowing there was so much more to your punishment. 

[fernandopiastri28]

Enjoying sometime off with Logan in Miami

sticky sugar taste- logan sargeant

warnings; pure smut, pwp, nastiness, 18+, oral (m&f recieving)

She’s gonna smack Logan when he gets home for leaving her on delivered like this. Trying to fill the void, her hole, she presses two fingers inside of her cunt, groaning at the touch. It feels good, almost good enough to tie her over, but the nagging desire and desperate want for it to be Logan’s fingers instead ruins the satisfactory feeling.

It’s near practical torture, she thinks, Logan’s been out all day without a single word to her. In all fairness to him, it’s a media day, and he’s been running back and forth trying to film as many little clips and challenges talking about just how proud he is to be Amercian and how special the Miami gp is to him.

But honestly, would a single text really hurt?

The worst part isn’t even that she just really misses him- she’d seen him only a few hours earlier when they’d first woken up and just lazily made out for about half an hour until he had to leave. The worst part is how painfully horny she is. 

Sure, she has herself to take care of that- she is perfectly capable of doing so, but it’s not the kind of horny where she just wants to cum, she wants Logan to.

The influx of Logan content coming from his own account, the williams pages, and the F1 account has been fantastic. Cute photos of him posing in a Miami Dolphin’s jersey, him doing those little Q&As about his favourite foods, taking photos with random fans that bump into him.

But just seeing his face on her phone screen every two seconds really isn’t helping her case. In all fairness, he’d probably text her if she texted him enough. He’d have enough time to quickly tap on a text notification and punch out a few words for her- she knows he would.

Logan

I miss you ☹️☹️☹️

She knows that his response won’t be immediate, and she’s fully prepared for that. However, she doesn’t just want to send those two messages and his response be something cute and sappy like ‘Aw, I miss you too. See you soon ❤️’ Which is just such a typical Logan response, she wants him rushing home the second he sees her texts just to help her feel good.

So they’re quickly followed with,

Lo i’m really horny 

And youre not here ☹️

Need you, all of u

Until he reads them, she’s only got herself, so she shucks her pants off, tossing them in the general direction of the laundry basket, and shuts her eyes, letting her left hand absently drift between her legs. 

*

Logan’s at her favourite bakery. It’s been her favourite since the grand prix last year- the one that sells the glazed donuts and cinnamon rolls that she still hasn’t stopped talking about after nearly a year. The line is miles long, so it must be an agreed upon fact that this place is genuinely good.

Unfortunately, due to how long the line is, he’s had to take even more time away from her to go here, and because he’s trying to eb a good boyfriend and surprise her with this, he hasn’t told her where he is. That means for the past two hours that he’s been easily free to text her- he hasn’t.

He feels pretty shitty for that, but hopefully she won’t be too mad once the sugary scent of the pastries fills their hotel room. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket against his thigh four times, two at a time. He doesn’t have to be a genius to know who it is- his lovely girlfriend, the chronic double texter. 

He leans over, looking at how many people are infront of him in the cue. There’s maybe 15 at most, so he’ll be out of here within a half hour and home around 10 minutes after that. 40 minutes, that’s all, he only has to ignore her texts for 40 minutes.

Eventually though, Logan’s resolve crumbles and he switches on his phone, checking her messages. The first two are cute, and he feels a bit bad for the fact that he had to leave so early. However, he chokes on his breath when he reads the next two.

The two messages that he has no right reading out in public.

Im out in public please have some decorum

He’s attempting to be funny because if he doesn’t and instead gives into what she’s saying, he might start barking over text. 

Well.

Maybe not quite that far, but damn near close enough.

Seriously Lo im in agony without u

Come home i need you so badly

Oh fucking hell. The line atleast is moving quicker than he’d predicted, but that means he has to face the cashier while being so incrediously hard and just order an assortment of baked goods.

Ill be home soon i promise

He makes his order, slamming the money on the counter while muttering out a ‘keep the change’, just to keep the interaction as quick as possible. He’s handed a brown bag with the four items- 2 cinnamon rolls, 2 donuts which was going to make for a perfect afternoon snack/dessert.

At this rate, they’re gonna be eating eachother instead of the pastries.

My underwear is soaked

Touch yourself baby, wait up for me

He switches his phone off, figuring for the drive home it’s safer to not be sexting his girlfriend while on the freeway. He might be a professional at driving, but that certainly doesn’t mean he’s confident enough to drive home while discussing what they’re planning on doing together when he walks through the door. 

*

She wishes Logan would’ve given her an estimate of what ‘soon’ meant, because that could mean anywhere from 5 minutes to an hour. For her sake, she hopes it’s the former. She’s disgustingly sticky, laying on her stomach while she watches fucking tiktok edits of him. She’d started with just looking through photos he’d sent her over the course of their relationship, then evolved to needing a bit more than that.

Currently, any video of him working out was doing it for her.

I’m touching myself to pictures and vids of u 

You look so good in all these interviews bae

It’s words like those that she knows makes Logan go genuinely crazy- which is the intention, obviously. 

She gets no reply, which honestly, is a bit discouraging, but maybe he’s just on the way home and can’t reply right now. 

She prays that’s the reason.

I wanna suck your dick when you get home

Until you cry

Like the most mindblowing head holy fuck

Please?

She’s gonna smack Logan when he gets home for leaving her on delivered like this. Trying to fill the void, her hole, she presses two fingers inside of her cunt, groaning at the touch. It feels good, almost good enough to tie her over, but the nagging desire and desperate want for it to be Logan’s fingers instead ruins the satisfactory feeling.

I fell asleep after you left and i dreamed about riding you

Make my dream come true?

It’s a pretty corny line, so ‘once upon a time’ fairytale-esque, but at this point, she’s confessing just abiutanything in the hopes that Logan is reading the messages and he’s getting increasingly more riled up from them.

It’s a bit difficult to type with one hand, so her texts are going through slower now.

Fuck Lo, i miss your dick so bad

I think im going insane, nothing is helping

Genuinely she would commit crimes at this very moment just to have Logan’s cock in her, but she shouldn’t say that- that’s wrong.

My throat feels so empty

Let me blow you please 🥺

Why am i begging you i know youll want it anyways

The emoji is a good choice, she wants Logan to know just how painfully needy she is for this right now. Her two fingers curl up inside of her, desperately trying to chase an orgasm she knows she won’t reach for as long as Logan isn’t physically right next to her, but you can’t hate a girl for trying. 

Time seems to float away from her in her hazy state. She forces herself to diassociate, pretend time isn’t real and that she isn’t real in the hopes that time will pass quicker. Her past 12 messages are all still unread as far as she knows, definitely unanswered at least, so she’s holding out hope that he hasn’t crashed or something and he’s just trying to get home as quick as possible. 

She rolls over, opening the drawer of her bedside table. She has a blue ‘toy’ in there, williams blue specifically. It’s been helpful on many occasions when Logan hasn’t been around to help, or when they’ve had to do this sort of thing over the phone.

Her fingers wrap around it, keeping it in her palm as her arm falls heavy to her side. At this point, she’s too exhausted to keep doing anything to herself. Since she doesn’t know how long she’s supposed to wait up for Logan, she just lets herself drift towards sleep- figuring he’ll come quicker if she’s asleep anyways.

Logan grabs his stuff out of his car, the brown bag tucked safely under his armpit so he can use both hands to read the obscenely lewd messages that have been flooding his noifcations. His cock jerks as he scans over each new message, his head ducked down as he makes his way through the hotel. To his luck, he doesn’t have any crazy fans like Lando or Charles do that cue up inside his hotel so he doesn’t have to worry about stopping to sign something for a fan while he is painfully hard and reading texts about his girlfriend begging to suck him off.

A bit of him, no, all of him is desperately hoping she’s still up for that because a good blowjob sounds like the best thing ever right now.

He doesn’t even realise he’s gotten into the elevator until he’s standing infront of the hotel room door, searching his pockets of the key card. It happens to be wedged into his wallet into the smallest section which means it takes a solid minute to try weasel it out.

His patience is seriously being tested today.

Logan kicks his shoes off, closing the door behind him, waiting just long enough to hear the click that indicates that it’s locked before he pounces straight towards the bedroom. He drops off his stuff just next to the kitchen counter, taking care to placethe bag ontop of the table. He opens the bedroom door, a small smile spreading across his face at the sight.

Her clothes are scattered across the otherwise tidy and pleasantly decorated hotel room, the bedsheets pulled over to only one side of the bed, a head of long hair just visible where the blanket ends and the pillow begins. 

But the ache that’s straining against his jeans is enough for him to snap out of the lovey feeling and back to the horny one. “Hey pretty,” He tugs back the blanket of the bed, not too much that she’ll have a bad reaction, but enough to wake her up, a proper wakeup in which she’ll be ready for him within minutes. 

“Ngh, five minutes,” That’s exactly what Logan was aiming to avoid.

“No, up we get,” He slots his hands under her armpits, sitting her up. “C’mon, you’re gonna make good on your promises, aren’t you?”

There’s a blank expression on her face for a second, then there’s that moment of recognition. “Lo,” Her voice is thick with a mix of lust and sleep, “I’ve missed you,”

He snickers, feeling his whole body grow warmer, “I could tell, I read your texts.” He tugs his shirt off over his head, watching a smirk spread across her hazy features. “Really that desperate? Begging to suck me off?” 

Her cheeks are painted a pale pink- she loves this type of teasing, the oen that Logan borderline mocks her for how needy she is. It never gets to the point where it’s classified as mean, and if it ever scrapes that boundary, they both know to back off. “I really wanna,” She looks up at him through her lashes, the whites of her eyes prominent and contrasting against her dark pupils.

“On the floor,” She clambers onto it, a mess of legs and blankets as she falls to the ground about as gracefully as she can. Logan looks like he’s about to fuss over her before she shakes her head, assuring him that she’s fine. Once she’s got a pillow under her knees, she reaches up to undo his belt.

The worst thing about men’s pants- there’s just so many steps to take them off. Undoing the belt, pulling it out, undoing the button, the zip, then finally you reach the boxers. With girls, you often just push their skirt up and you’re ready. 

Logan assists her with his belt just to get the process moving along quicker. He lets her take back over when it gets to just undoing his jeans just because he knows she loves the control she gets over this part. She doesn’t play around too much with his jeans, eager to get them down, but once she’s met with an eyeful of his boxers-  then she decides to do a bit of teasing of her own.

She kisses him through the soft cotton of his boxers. The front of them are pulled taut over his erection, straining and begging for release. His hand finds it’s place in her hair, gently pushing her face into his crotch. “Mm, playing around like you weren’t begging to be shut up with my cock down your throat?”

Her brain is already beginning to feel foggy. It often does when they do this, she gets that dreamlike pleasure where nothing quite feels real, but it certainly feels really good. Her index fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. 

She’s seen him like this more times than she could probably count, but it’s always the best sight. She opens her mouth, kitten licking his tip. Whines fall from her own mouth, controlled and even breaths from his. It’s not yet drastic, definitely not debauched or overstimulated.

Not that she’d done this with many guys before Logan, actually maybe only one or two a few years back, but she really can’t imagine ever being with someone else like she is with Logan. He knows her- inside and out. He knows what’s too much, what’s too little, what is just perfect. He knows all her little signs and actions, the ones that speak louder than words when she can barely say it out loud. 

She wraps a hand around his cock, which he tuts at. “No hands,” They go behind her back, and she’s left looking back up at him with big eyes, waiting for him to do something. He strokes her hair, slowly guiding his cock into her lips, “Suck, baby,” He cooes.

There’s no doubt that Logan’s a bit of a challenge to take, long and thick, but he knew to which point it was too much and how much got her to that perfect mindless place. Her tongue trailed along his slit, precum gathering on it. 

Her mouth is that perfect soaking warmth around his tip, swallowing down a few inches, moving back and forth. There’s something in both of them that wants to take it to the furthest point, she wants to try and force herself as far forward as she can, take as much as humanly possibly, and he wants to fuck her face- force her to take it.

But that’s lust talking, and as much as they’re both horny as hell, they also have respect for eachother and themselves, so they treat this as a softer moment. “Is this exactly what you’ve been begging for all day, baby?” He murmurs, his finger drifting between her cheek and temple.

She can hardly respond, so a hmnh! suffices. He pulls out just far enough that her lips are wrapped around his tip, both red and swollen. Logan groans, rolling his hips forward in a painfully slow rhythm. There hasn’t been a second in which their eyecontact has broken, so she just stares up at him, big glossy eyes. 

Eventually though, just the very tip of it is hardly enough for either of them, so Logan slowly works her onto his cock, pushing forward slowly until he’s buried deep into her throat, not quite all of him inside her. 

Strands of her hair curl around his fingers, making it easier to tug and pull her in any direction he wants to. There’s drool dribbling down her chin and onto her neck, her lashes clumped together with tears.

There’s a familiar clenching in his stomach that indicates that he’s painfully close to cumming, so he tugs her off. She stares up at him in confusion, wide eyes of almost betrayal. “Up on the bed,” He instructs again. She lies against the large stack of pillows, legs bent up to the ceiling. Her knees are red and raw from kneeling for so long, so clearly the cushion didn’t help that much.

She’s only got a pair of lacy white underwear on by this point, soaked to mould to the contours of her cunt from how wet she is. Her nudges her legs apart, lying down inbetween her thighs. “Colour?”

There doesn’t seem to even be a moment of doubt, “Green,” Logan laps her cunt through the thin material of her panties, filling his mouth with the familiar taste of her. He genuinely thinks he’d die a happy man between her legs, but he doesn’t want to, because that means he wouldn’t be able to do it again.

Ideally, he wishes he could just do this for the rest of time.

Breathing whines and moans escape her mouths, chants of his name filling the room as her slender fingers card through his hair, yanking it. Not too hard that it means that he should stop, but hard enough to let out some of her energy.

“I- I missed you so fucking bad today,” She whimpers, her head thrown back against the pillow. Logan can’t help but smile, he loves how bad she needs him because it means the feeling is requited. “Where- were you?”

“I know,” He stops just long enough to answer and press a searing kiss to the inside of her thigh, “I was just- yeah, tying up some last minute errands,” The answer seems to satisfy her enough to calm down and just give into pleasure.

It doesn’t take much longer before her hips stutter and she cums, gushes of wet across his lips. She rides it out and Logan helps her the whole way before her whimpers indicate it’s all too much. He then finds his place back up at her mouth, kissing her. It’s sticky and wet, and they can taste themselves in each other’s mouths, but it feels so good to be kissing againl even if it was only a few hours ago they’d been doing it.

They flop down on the bed for a bit, stroking eachother’s hair until she decides she wants to continue making good on her promise. She scoots inbetween his legs where is still hard cock is resting heavy, and takes the head into her mouth. He lets out a grunt of surprise, which then turns to a heavy exhale.

It comes easier this time around, alternating between licking and sucking, taking him deeper than before. Her hands find their place gliding up his stomach and chest, running over his defined set of abs. She looks up at what she’s doing, which doubles as looking up at him.

Similarly to how she’d been earlier, he has his head thrown back and he’s whining, thrusting up into her. Since he can’t see what she’s doing, she has full creative liberty. She tweaks at his nipples, pink and pointed. He lets out a moan from the very back of his throat, his hips thrusting up into her throat. “Holy fuck,” He groans, pushing her head down further, only applying the slightest pressure.

It’s not long before his noises are becoming more high pitched and flooding out quicker, “Close,” He mutters, and she stays right there, moving at the same pace. He spills into her mouth, thick white strings of cum painting the inside of her warm wetness. 

They stay silent like that for what seems like hours, her face smushed up against his stomach, his hand brushing through her hair. “Was that enough?” She shakes her head, ‘hardly’. He’s on the brink of sleep, and he thinks she is too until she suddenly sits up, her face twisted like something’s bothering her. 

“Did you get donuts?” Seriously how on earth could she smell them through the door. He nods, smiling tiredly at her. He makes some lame explanation of how that was the reason he was so late as she drags him out of bed snd towards the source of the sweet smell. “I love you, I love you!” She squeals, wrapping her arms around his neck as soon as she sees the brown paper bag. 

He grins, burying his face in her neck, “Love you too,”

(sorry this took me so long to write and i hope you like it, i've been lost for inspiration. also, shoutout to sunny who was the biggest motivator for me to write this-i hope you enjoyed the nipples part)

[icarusredwings]

Logan's kit.

Morpherinepool

No tw! Pure puppy Logan fluff!

Thinking about Wade coming home to Logan nuzzling something in his big human sized pink dog bed, his nose sniffing and nudging something ever so gently but his eyes are slit. They're small and like a German short hair pointer that found it's prey, pointing with his nose at it, his tail wiggling just slightly at the end. The same way Puppins did when she found a big cockroach to hunt, staring at it like he'd pounce any second.

"Whatcha got there, Peanut? Don't tell me you brought in another rat." He mutters, but as he gets close to the bed, Logan turns, quickly standing to cover the thing, growling and baring his teeth, tail tucking against his jogger pants.

Wade sighs, putting his hands up "Okay, okay. But is it? You get in the trash or somethin? Logan we talked about this. You don't have to eat garbage."

It's now that Logan takes something white and fluffy into his mouth, using gentle jaws to pick it up, running into the bedroom under the bed.

Groaning, Wade has a feeling whatever this is. He wasn't supposed to have it, and the squeak only made him wonder if he did actually have a rat. Oh shit what if it's a kitten? When did he go out and find a kitten? Thinking more, he was trying to go through his "Wild white animals" list, now worried that Logan had gone to the zoo and taken a wolverine kit. He was just talking about how they just had 2 and Wade knew how much wanted a kit to take care of.

"Looaaggiieee.. what is it? Where did you get-"

He crouches down onto his hands and knees, looking under the bed to see Logan making a den for his mystery kit.

Almost immediately, Logan snarls, pulling the blanket and hoodie den close to his chest, shifting to turn his back on him.

"Wolvie, You're being such a good daddy, but can I see your baby?"

"Ggrrr..."

"Alright. But you left me no choice." Wade huffs, sitting up and backing away, now sitting on his knees as he pats his thighs. "D'aaaww my big boooyy~ come're my brave boy! Let me see your baby, oh thats a good boy, oh good job, such brave Wolvie."

Slowly and scared, Logan keeps his head low to the ground, his tail waggling behind him and his eyebrows furrowing upwards into a nervous, embaressed smile. Whimpering, Logan keeps the puff of fur in his mouth, anxious to give Wade the 'baby' he had aquired while Wade was out.

"Ooh what a good boy. Oh yes you are. Such a good wolvie, and what a pretty baby. A pretty baby you have. Are you a good daddy? Huh?"

Logan nods, letting Wade pet his head but still growled if Wade's hand came near his mouth.

Scratching his chin and scruff of his cheeks, Wade smirked, knowing how to play this game.

"What a good boy, Loagie. Keeping your baby all safe and warm. Is he a good baby? Yeah? Oh im so proud of you. And your baby is so cute, Can I see? I wont touch him I promise. But can you drop it? Drop it Loagie. Lemme see your beautiful baby, big boy." He coes, putting his hands in his lap as Logan whimpered again, shifting to drop the thing about 2 feet from him, looking at Wade and wagged his tail harder, his bottom starting to shake, wanting praised.

For a moment, Wade was terrified that the thing was dead, but the thing unballed itself, shaking its fur and licking its hands, cleaning its face.

"Oh! A bunny! Baby boy, where did you get a bunny?" Wade gasps, realizing. "And he's alive!! You didn't kill your bunny friend!! Oh, im so proud of you, Peanut! But seriously, where did you get this bunny?" Putting a hand out to touch the rabbit, Logan snapped at him, growling and warned him not to try to touch the rabbit again.

This was Logan's kit. Not Wade's. So wade wasnt allowed to touch. Only look and compliment how pretty his kit was.

Logan would gladly show off his baby, Picking it back up as he looked at Wade, wanting him to praise how cute the kit was.

Nodding, Wade understood perfectly. "Ooh I see. What a pretty baby, Logan. You always have such pretty kits, Wolvie but.. where's this kits mama? Huh? Youre such a good daddy, I know, but where did you find'em sweetheart?"

Whining again, he hops up onto the bed, dropping the white rabbit, starting to circle it only to lay down.

Moments later, the rabbit turns into a person, a person Wade knows all too well. They groan and stretch. Logan's tail wags for a different reason now, excited to see his friend.

"Oh! Morph, you rascal! He could have killed you, ya know! He loves killing bunnys." Wade says, watching as Kevin starts petting Logans head.

"He wouldn't. He knows it's me. Besides, he asked me too. He wanted to work on his impulse." They grin, letting Logan lick up their cheek.

"Yeah, but what if he did? He wouldn't forgive himself."

"I know. That's why I agreed. Started off kinda rough, not gonna lie. Kept trying to claw me and chase me but soon he just started treating me like a pup of his. Kinda nice naping while the Wolverine watches over you, yaknow?"

Wade giggles becuse he feels the same way.

"Greatest feeling in the world. You want a drink or something? I'm making dinner tonight if you wanna hang out."

Kevins nose crinkles. "If you're making dinner, Im leaving."

Wade's jaw drops, smiling. "How rude! But I mean, it's not like Mr. Puppy man can cook. Come oooonn. Stay. Promise to only burn it a little bit."

Morph looks over the two, seeing how happy Logan was, and Wade seemed pretty sane today. "Will Althea mind?"

"I don't think so. Her and Boot are at Bridge night. They say they're walking the dog, but they aren't fooling anyone. No one walks the dog for 3 hours, especially not when Al needs a walker for longer than 20 minutes. If you ask me, I think they use puppins to bribe or steal from the other players. It's like a little date for them." He smiles, shrugging.

"How about I cook and you put on a movie?" Kevin says, helping Wade up as Logan follows them.

Putting a hand to his chest, Wade grins. "Mr. Sydney are you asking me on a date?"

Morph snorts, shrugging. "I mean, I wasn't, But I guess I am now. As long as you aren't cooking."

"Okay- Ouch."

"You know Gambit still hasn't gotten that pan clean?" Kevin asks, smirking in that teasing kinda way that made Wade completely understand why Logan liked them so much.

"Oh, come on! It was one time! Who knew it was going to catch on fire!?" He complains.

"Everyone. That's who."

Pouting, Wade speaks up again. "Fine, but if you're making dinner, I have one condition.."

"And what's that, Wade?" Morph knows where this is going, but doesn't ruin the moment. Instead, they just stare fondly, half lidded.

"Just no rabbit food- HA! Hah! Get it?! Cause? You were a rabb-"

The kiss was sudden and short, just long enough for Kevin to hold behind his ear and keep him quiet for two seconds.

When they pulled away, Wade blinks. "...."

They weren't actually sure if this would work, but they were glad that it did. They'd have to thank Logan later for the tip. Sometimes, kissing people to shut them up wasn't a bad thing.

"You done?" Morph asks, smiling smugly as Wade nods, lighting up like the sun.

"Good.. now come on. I think he's hungry."

They gestured to Logan, who was now staring at them both, wagging his tail with a massive grin and wide eyes.

Despite what people might think? Logan was more than glad they were getting along, but he still whines, wanting attention.

Giggling, they both lean down, kissing his cheeks and scratching behind his ears. Don't worry. They'd never forget about their good boy.