#it's giving ponytail Kim :')

[laesas]

Jeff Satur as Tankhun Theerapanyakul

KinnPorsche The Series World Tour || WTFun 2023

[igixri]

mp100 genderbend sketch dump

[maraczeks]

bcs s6 thread pt 2

[asahicore]

cold hands - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. sunghoon x fem!reader

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

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

word count. 39.5k 😂

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

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

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

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

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

Just to name a few:

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

“Dude, you’ll never guess what.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t believe them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon nods. “Good to know.”

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

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

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

Sunghoon can already feel it. The beginning of something.

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon smiles. “Probably, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There you guys are!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re on, Sim.”

“You’re going down, Sim.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon thinks he just fell in love.

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

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

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

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

“They really don’t.”

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

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

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

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

“Where’s that choir of yours?”

--

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

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

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

“You had time to bake?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I came to your concerts!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if they come back for them?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Better than Berta’s banana bread?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For sure.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That makes sense.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’d be my pleasure.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

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

“Your mom must be really strong.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you don’t. 

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

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

He can hardly fall asleep that night.

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was his first mistake. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It is easy. You’re making it hard.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was his second mistake.

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

yn.sim i’ll be there!!

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

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

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

“Your team jacket?” 

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

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

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

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

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

He was terrified—but infinitely excited, too.

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

“Okay.”

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

Your smile widened. “Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that was when he saw you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey. I was wondering where you were.” 

“You’re the one who came late.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “Mh-hm.”

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

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

“It looks good. You look good.”

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

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

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

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

You sigh. “Okay. Where’s your room?” 

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

“Oh, that was Jaemin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve missed you.”

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon nods. “I know. It’s nice.”

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

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

“Just us two?” 

“Just us two.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrug. “Basically, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I wasn’t that bad!”

“I should’ve filmed you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right. See you, Y/N. Sunghoon.” 

Back to no-nickname basis, apparently.

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

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

“Mh-hm.”

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

“Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you agree that I’m tall?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You-what?”

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

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

“Sure.”

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

“Looking for validation,” Sunghoon says.

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

“That’s smart.”

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

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

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

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

“Minjeong?”

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re like, nineteen…”

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

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

“Minjeong, I promise-”

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

“Okay.”

“And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Go inside.” 

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

--

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

yn are you still up for doing something this week?

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

She never lets things get serious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grab his hand; it warms him right up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you wanna come up?”

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

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

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

“Minjeong karaokes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re me,” he replies breathlessly.

“Hm?”

“I mean, me too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, please.”

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re better than a dream.

“I feel great. Do you feel great?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

After that night, Sunghoon forgets how to act right.

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

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

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

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

He has never felt so awkward in his life.

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

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

“I haven’t!”

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

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

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

“Yes, after we had sex,” he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

“Minjeong’s out at karaoke tonight.”

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

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

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

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

“I was gone two minutes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hangs up and meets your flatmates’ worried eyes. 

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

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

“Have you guys tried saying something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So this has to do with your parents?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Since I met her, basically.”

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

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

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

“How did you know, anyway?”

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

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

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

“I didn’t want to make things weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everyone…”

“Everyone?!”

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

“So everyone.”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Great.” Jake sighs. “Since when?”

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

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

“‘Cause of Heeseung?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at you. Down bad, huh?”

“Shut up.”

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

“Seriously?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t change the subject.”

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

“What would happen more than once?”

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

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

“Yeah, what did you think?”

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

“Well, we were.”

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

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

“Damn.”

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

Jake frowns. “Why not?”

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

“What are you scared of?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not really, no.”

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

“Jay texted me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff. “Excuse me?”

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

“That’s different-”

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

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

“Of course I do! But I have to.”

“No, you don’t-”

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

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

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

“Again, that’s different-”

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

“You heard me,” you say coldly.

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

You glance at him. “Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

What was Sunghoon?

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

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

No, okay, it was definitely your fault.

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

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

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

“What is?”

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

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

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

“I don’t think I do, actually.”

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

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

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

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

“So you are going after him?”

“So you do like him?”

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

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

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

“And how have you gathered that?”

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

“I’m not-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you went home for a weekend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It wasn’t any of your business.”

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

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

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

“Why can’t he?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God forbid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not to them, it doesn’t.”

“Then forget them.”

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

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

“I wish it was.”

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

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

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

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

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

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what has it been about?” 

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

“I love you.”

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

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

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

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

“I was waiting for you to say something.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I think I have too.”

“You think?”

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you need, baby?”

“You.”

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

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

“I’m not sure I do, actually.”

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

“That I can do.”

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

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

“I love it, Hoon.”

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

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

“Please what?”

“Need you. Need your dick, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feels so good, Hoon,” you moan.

“I know, baby.”

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

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

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

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

© asahicore on Tumblr, 2024. please do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works. support your creators by reblogging and leaving feedback!

permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 @baekhyuns-lipchain @hyuckslvr @vernonburger @amorbonbon @fluerz @jakeflvrz (ask to be removed/added!)

[svtswhorehouse]

HIS BEST GIRL

pairings: bad boy!mingyu x good girl!reader genre: mdni, smut warnings: smoking, blowjob gone wrong ????, mentions of mingyu having a monster cock (IT’S A JOKE), oral (m), mingyu trying to orally cock train reader, reader overestimating her abilities, inexperienced reader, mentions of gagging, a few coughing fits, the reader cries, experienced mingyu, MINOR subspace, reader just wants to be called a good girl, she's kinda a brat ngl, some fluff idk how to describe it, mentions of mingyu being a mean dom, he doesn’t cum y’all sorry word count: 3.8k side note: reader is close childhood friends with ALL of seventeen and i will be writing other members with this particular oc as well. so much lore pls feel free to ask questions !! planning on making this a series, so enjoy :)

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Big, big, big.

You let out a whimper, doe eyes rolling up to look at the man peering down at you. Your lips were wrapped firmly around his cock, struggling as he inched himself further and further into your mouth. 

So big.

He was so damn big.

From arms to chest, it came as no surprise that Kim Mingyu was a man that worked hard for his body. He tended to coup himself up at the gym, spending hours upon hours lifting weights to gain the muscle he had acquired over the years. As expected, his cock was larger than most, if not, the biggest you have ever seen and the biggest you could have ever possibly imagined. Despite hearing the constant gossip amongst the girls on campus, you have finally gotten a chance to see for yourself and needless to say the monster cock rumors were true.

You have not a clue how you managed to find yourself in this position. In fact, you actually had no clue how you’ve been managing to find yourself in a lot of positions lately. After your escapade with Jeonghan a few days before, it left you excited, eager, and ready for more. You had always been one for learning new things and that intimate experience with him had opened up a whole new world for you – one in which you have never ventured in before. 

You squeezed your eyes shut as you did your best to take what Mingyu was giving you. He was only less than half way in and there was still so much more to go. It was impossible. You were sure of it. 

It would never fit. 

Mingyu however, despite your idling thoughts, loved a good challenge. He knew you could take it. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, but he was sure that with just a little bit more practice, he could train you to take his cock with ease. 

“Relax.” He said monotonously. His eyes were focused on where his length disappeared into your mouth, a groan forcing to escape from his lips. “You’re fine.” He reassured you as he stilled his hips while you gathered yourself. “Just breathe.”

Listening to him, you took slow breaths through your nose while you adjusted to the foreign feeling of something in your mouth. If it wasn’t his length that killed you, it would most definitely be his girth. It had only been a few minutes and your jaw was beginning to ache already. 

It was painfully obvious that you have never done this before and it was embarrassing to say the least. You were sure that other girls in which he has been with managed to take him easily without any complaint, so much more different from you and your lack of experience. For some reason you had the sudden need to show him that you could be just like those girls, maybe even better.

Making a decision that you were in fact not ready for, you rested a hand on Mingyu’s thigh and attempted to slide your mouth further down his cock. However, you definitely seemed to overestimate your abilities as you slightly gagged when it went a little too far and caused you to let out a muffled cough. 

Furrowing his eyebrows, Mingyu made a sound of disapproval as he watched you. He fisted at your ponytail, using your hair as leverage to gently pull you up and off of him. 

A whine escaped from your lips as soon as his tip slipped out. In such little time you had found yourself used to the feeling of something occupying your mouth and now that it was gone you didn’t enjoy the loss. You tried to dive back on him, but you were met with resistance instead. Mingyu’s hand snaked it’s way to your face as he lent forward on the couch to be somewhat eye level with you. 

“What did I tell you?” He asked with a stern voice. His fingers gripped at your jaw to keep you in place, making sure you didn’t shy away from the angry look he was sending your way. 

Your eyes were quick to fill with tears, not liking both his tone and the sudden confrontation. You were never the type of person who was fond of getting reprimanded – not when you were younger and not now as well. You tried to avert your attention to elsewhere, but Mingyu tsked in dissatisfaction. 

“Nuh-uh. Look at me.”

You typically tended to listen very well in any circumstance so needless to say it came as a surprise that you were acting a little out of the ordinary today. Your behavior was almost beginning to get somewhat bratty and Mingyu could only hope that it wouldn’t continue.

“What did I say?” He asked again. “Before we started this. What did we agree on?”

You bit your lip, suddenly nervous. “To take it slow.” You answered softly, your voice fading out as you spoke the words. 

“Mhm.” He nodded. “So why are we rushing things huh? I told you it’s not going to happen in one day, didn’t I?”

You shrugged, vaguely remembering that it took some time convincing Mingyu to allow you to suck him off. It was your first time doing this, let alone the second time doing something sexual altogether and he knew that. He made it very clear that if this was going to happen, it was going to go his way. However, seems like you had the wrong idea in mind for “his way” because according from what you’ve heard about Mingyu around campus, he never goes easy. It was always endless gossip about fast and hard. Rough and messy. Mean and humiliating.

This was nothing like what you originally imagined it to be like, but quite frankly maybe that was exactly what you needed. Maybe Mingyu knew your limits better than you knew your own. 

“M’ sorry.” You muttered as you looked down to fiddle with the ring on your finger.

Mingyu took a few seconds to respond, examining you instead. You didn’t take much of a liking to the way his eyes felt on your figure, causing you to shift around. He eventually opted to nod in response as he let go of your face.

For a second you thought he was done. That you blew your chances in learning how to give a blowjob and that was it – but instead he grabbed a cigarette from his pack, sparking it up and taking a long drag. Blowing the smoke up into the air, he leant back on the couch with his legs spread wide open. His cock stood tall in all it’s glory, hard and coated from your saliva. “Let’s try this again.” 

You perked up immediately at the statement, sitting on your knees between his legs. The carpet dug into your skin, but you didn’t take any notice to the scratchy feeling, instead giving the man before you your undivided attention. He was indulging you and better yet, corrupting you. 

With a hand resting on the back of your head and burning cigarette in the other, Mingyu led you back to his cock. He let his tip rest at your lips, swearing under his breath as he struggled hard not to slam right into your mouth from the sight of your innocent doe eyes peering up at him. 

Never in all of the years he had known you, did Mingyu think you two would ever be in this position. He was a menace in the bedroom, a hard dom and on certain occasions a brat tamer. He normally went for the girls who he could throw around. The ones who would get on their knees for him with just the snap of his fingers alone and the ones who wouldn’t care if he didn’t hold back in which he never planned to do in the first place. 

But this was different – this was you.

He wanted to move slower because although you didn’t know much about the joys of sex and pleasure, he did, and he also knew that you weren’t the type of person who could be easily thrusted into it. You were far too sheltered, far too nice, and far too pure.

“Gyu….” You whined, teetering on the edge of slight impatience. He was taking too long and you were beginning to get shy under his gaze.

The hint of desperation in your tone quickly snapped Mingyu out of his daydream and he jumped back into action soon after. “Open.” He ordered, to which you obeyed.

Your lips parted, mouth awaiting to be stuffed yet again. You almost looked like a puppy eager for it’s treat and Mingyu struggled to bite his tongue to hold back the degradation wanting to escape. 

If it was anyone else – oh if it was anyone other than you, he would have made them cry. He would’ve made them beg, and he would’ve made them show him how much they wanted it. It was quite shocking what affect you had on him. Only you had the ability to make Kim Mingyu go soft. 

“Good girl.” He praised, noticing that you followed his instructions well. 

You found it rather difficult to contain a moan, your thighs pressing together as the words floated straight to your head. Mingyu raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh as he took notice of the way you enjoyed being praised, just like he assumed you would.

The boys were always hard to read – all thirteen of them mostly silent and kept to themselves for almost the entirety of your life in which you’ve known them. However, for them, you were an open book. One in which they have read every single page to about a million times. 

“Stick out your tongue.” He instructed. 

Almost immediately, it darted out of your mouth causing dirty thoughts to flood the boy’s mind. You looked as if you belonged on the thumbnail of a porn video and for a second he seriously considered snapping a photo to keep for his eyes only. 

Groaning, he shook his head. “You’re killing me Y/N.” With a now clear mind, Mingyu slapped the tip of his cock against your tongue. Your eyes narrowed in on it, the want and need to have it deep inside your mouth as opposed to him just teasing you. 

But you were good and good girls don’t complain. 

After what seemed like a lifetime, Mingyu finally slid himself into your mouth. He only allowed a good two inches in at first, slowly working his way up to what you managed to take before. The ache in your jaw began to make a comeback and you almost wished you were a hippo, for the first time in your life envying their ability to unhinge their own jaws.

You can take it. You can take it. You can take it.

Mingyu gently inched himself into your mouth little by little until he was eventually over the halfway mark. Yet again you took steady breaths through your nose to help calm yourself down as your eyes began to water. Pushing away the urge to cough you instead clutched the man’s knee, using it as your personal stress ball. The fogginess that was beginning to cloud your mind was progressively getting more difficult to ignore and you struggled to gather yourself as your thoughts drifted and you found it harder to think. 

Mingyu steadied himself and locked his gaze on your face. He knew that look all too well – the one in which the lights were on, but no one’s home. He’s become quite accustomed to it, having seen it multiple times before with close to every rendezvous he’s had. This was the part in which he was supposed to humiliate and degrade. It was almost routine at this point. However, with one glance at the tears forming in your waterline, you just so happened to tug at his heartstrings. 

“You good baby?” He asked, pulling a bit of himself out of your mouth to make it somewhat easier for you. 

Barely registering his words, you paused for a beat to collect yourself before letting out a sound of assurance. Despite this however, Mingyu would seem to differ as the tears that were once threatening to fall surely enough went cascading down your face with just the blink of your eyes. 

“You sure?” He asked again, refusing to move. The time he spent making you wait was driving you crazier by the minute and it didn’t help that he kept your ponytail wrapped around his hand to prevent you from moving. 

You made a sound of approval yet again to give him the green light, this time being much more insistent with a little nod of your head. 

You didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want to stop. 

With a sigh, Mingyu bit his lip hesitating. Fortunately for you though, with him being distracted by his own thoughts, he made the mistake of loosening his grip on your hair by the slightest. You were quick to jump at the opportunity that suddenly arose, seemingly not having learned your lesson before – the one that invisibly states “it takes time to take a dick this god damn big.”

Instead of slowly pacing yourself further down his cock, in alternative you forced yourself much too quickly to slide in two more inches. Although a miniscule number to what most people might think, especially the already experienced – you could feel the tip of his cock drag against the back of your throat, the feeling hitting you like a hurricane. Your tears made an appearance once again, except now moving much more quickly and frequently down your cheeks as you tried your hardest not to gag. Your breathing picked up to assist with your struggle, swallowing around Mingyu’s cock when you realized you couldn’t inhale or exhale through your mouth. You reached a hand out, squeezing the man’s thigh a lot harder than you had before. The back of your throat felt raw and for a second you thought you might have possibly dislocated your jaw. 

Mingyu was quick to throw his cigarette down on the ashtray, leaning forward as soon as he processed your actions. You felt his hand thread through your hair, using it to get a grip and pull you off his cock. When the tip finally slipped out of your mouth, you instantly broke out into a coughing fit, no longer being able to contain it. Amongst your struggle however, to Mingyu’s surprise, you still seemed to be so persistent as your hand reached out to grip at the base of him despite needing a break. 

The man clenched his jaw, leaning in close to your face. “I’m gonna kill you.” He muttered, keeping a hand on you to provide a sense of space between you and his cock that for some unknown reason you seemed so eager to get back to. 

This was exactly what he didn’t want to happen. He gave you an inch and you took a mile.

“I can –,” You coughed, “I can take it.”

Mingyu scoffed at your words, running his eyes over you to take in your state. You were a little bit short of a mess. Your eyes were glazed over, tears running down your face, and voice hoarse. You definitely could not take it. At least, not right now. 

“Y/N…” He started, trailing off when you rested your chin on his thigh while looking up at him. You were visibly deflating with each second that passed and Mingyu didn’t like that he was the reason for it. He knew you, and he also knew that you were trying your absolute best to be good for him. “Sure you can sweetheart.” He continued, striving to reassure you as he tucked himself back into his sweatpants. “But maybe some other time, okay?” 

You were not very happy with his answer and the whine of defiance that escaped your mouth let him know that. “Please Gyu, please.” You begged. “I’m fine, I promise.” Your pleas fell on deaf ears as he ignored you, already knowing that you were going to try and get him to change his mind, but it was already set and the decision was final. 

Scowling at the lack of his attention, before you could think, your hand came down on his leg rather hard, the smack ringing throughout the room.

“Hey.” Mingyu warned, tilting his head with his eyes set on yours sternly. “Quit it.” He said firmly, speaking through his teeth. 

Your own eyes held his fierce ones, eventually backing down with a huff when you came to the conclusion that you weren’t going to win. Suddenly refusing to look at him, you abruptly got up from your spot between his legs. He watched you carefully, stare following you as you got seated on the couch farthest away from him in annoyance. 

“Y/n…” He spoke your name, attempting to get your attention. You turned your head further to the side, ignoring him and not giving in. “Y/n.” He said much more strongly, however you still refused to to look in his direction. He let his gaze linger on you for a bit longer before chuckling to himself. “Brat.” He muttered under his breath, going to grab another cigarette to let off some steam. 

Silence filled the room, you mostly keeping quiet because you were angry and him because he knew you were just being stubborn. Mingyu could not deal with that right now – at least, not in the way he normally would if it had been any other girl in your position. 

You glanced over at him from time to time, looking away quickly whenever his eyes found yours. Your body was starting to get a little sluggish and for some odd reason your brain was fuzzy, but instead of making him aware of that, you kept it to yourself. The last thing you wanted to seem was weak. Mingyu however, is a lot smarter than that, especially in this category. He clocked the minor subspace you were slipping into as soon as it made an appearance, already knowing that there was a high chance in which you would fall into it knowing the person that you are. 

Most virgins do anyways.

You nibbled on your bottom lip, propping your arm up on a cushion to lean against it. The only thing you craved at the moment was warmth and comfort. You would have went running to Seungcheol and Jeonghan like you typically did, the oldest two always being able to fill that void – however instead you stayed glued to your spot on the couch. 

You wanted Mingyu at the moment and only Mingyu.  

Your eyes seemed to do the speaking for you, not realizing that you were staring at him with a sad and defeated expression. Mingyu scanned you up and down, finding it hard to resist your infamous puppy dog eyes as unintentional as they were. Sighing, he beckoned you over with the nod of his head. “C’mere.” 

You wavered, only jumping into action when he raised an eyebrow at your hesitance. Crawling forward on the couch, you perched yourself right beside him and curled up into his side. His arm wrapped around your body, the size of him compared to you being able to provide you with a sense of comfortability. 

Silence filled the air once again as soon as you were in his arms and the only sound that could be heard was him taking an occasional drag of his cigarette. You had gotten acquainted to the smell over the years, the scent of it no longer bothering you. Watching the smoke linger in the air with each puff he took, a question lingered on the tip of your tongue. 

“Can I try?” You asked, voice hopeful.

It took him by surprise to say the least. Never once have you shown any interest in the bad habits that himself and the boys picked up throughout the years they got older. Hell no, was the answer he was looking for in particular, but deciding you didn’t exactly need that blunt of a reply at the moment, he found something much nicer to deny your request. “Let’s move one step at a time hm?” 

You nodded, understanding that he had already indulged in one thing new that you wanted to try today and now you were asking for too much. “Okay.” 

With the conversation you two were having come to an end, Mingyu was finally able to have a moment of peace. He was a man that loved to party and loved playing music at full blast, however he also enjoyed the moments in which he could just let all the thoughts in his brain drift away. 

It seemed to be different for you however because while his thoughts were relaxing, yours were spurring. You kept on taking small glances at his face, wanting to speak up, but also not bringing yourself to disturb his peace. 

The ring on your finger went round and round in circles as you couldn’t stop fiddling and with each move of your hand it was driving Mingyu out of his comfortable state. Finally, after you had accidentally hit his stomach one too many times, he couldn’t bite his tongue any longer. “Spit it out Y/n.” 

You snapped your head up at him, not have expected him to speak. “Uhm….” You hesitated asking the question. 

Another question. Mingyu hated questions.

 “Was I –,” You stuttered, “Was I good?” Your voice was small and fragile. For a split second Mingyu thought you were going to breakdown into tears due to your own self doubt. He took in your composure, knowing exactly what your question entailed – you wanted to hear one thing in specific, the one thing you’ve been so intent on trying to be throughout this entire situation. 

“Mhm.” He hummed, bringing his hand up to your head to pet at your hair. His fingers laced through your locks, gently scratching at your scalp. “You were such a good girl for me.” 

A rush of giddiness coursed through you, but you were quick to push it down as your worrisome thoughts still stayed. “Really?” Your voice cracking this time as you asked again. 

Shaking his head in approval, Mingyu kept playing with your hair as he tried to ease your worries away. After some time, he stopped to kiss your temple. “The best.”

You resisted the urge to giggle, pushing your face into his neck as you suddenly went shy from his words. That was the only thing you needed from him for today and it left you feeling much more than content. 

Oh how you loved being praised and oh how you loved being called a good girl, especially by Mingyu – and that’s exactly what you planned on continuing to be, his best girl.

[seospicybin]

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE.

ROUND 2

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Related chapters: Round 1

Synopsis: Let's play two truths and a lie, and here goes the first thing about Minho: He is good in the kitchen. (10,3k words)

Author's note: I just thought that we need to play another round. Hope you had fun reading this x

Content warning: Infidelity.

Let's play another round of two truths and a lie where Minho shares three things about him and you have to guess which one is the lie.

Here goes the first thing about Minho: He is good in the kitchen.

That's the first thing Kim told you about Minho, he is good in the kitchen and that explains why you often find him in there, cooking meals or something his girlfriend, Kim, asked him to make, sometimes it's something as simple as fried rice to something as complex as beef wellington, he can do it all. In conclusion, his cooking skill is unquestionable.

Just like this morning, the first thing you see as you come out of your bedroom is Minho making something in the kitchen. Before he notices, you slowly tiptoe your way back to your bedroom and reach for the doorknob to—

"Morning!" Kim cheerily says as she comes out of her bedroom.

You instantly turn around on your feet and pretend that you've just come out of your bedroom. From her attire, you can tell that she's going for her morning run.

"Morning, Kim!" You say back with a smile, "Going for a run?"

"Yep. Minho is making pancakes," she answers as she ties her hair into a ponytail, "Have to burn some calories so I can eat more calories."

As a dancer, Kim diligently watches her weight but instead of getting on a rigorous diet, she prefers working out even though her job, dancing, is also working out, and she only spoils herself with a sweet treat on the weekend. She's heading to the kitchen to give Minho a quick peck on the lips and then puts her headphones on.

"I'll see you guys in a bit," she says before walking out the door.

Leaving you and Minho alone in the apartment is not a good idea but how can she know when you've been doing things behind her back?

Since he's already seen you, you may as well start your day, by going to the kitchen and getting yourself a cup of coffee, you just need to get the milk from the fridge, then you'll be out of Minho's way.

As you keep the fridge door open to put the milk back inside, Minho appears behind you and reaches for a carton of eggs from the fridge, his forearm brushes your waist as he retracts his hand.

You quickly step away and take the other end of the kitchen counter, stirring your coffee with a spoon while looking at the weather outside, at the sunlit clouds drifting across a clear blue sky.

"Can you hand me the sugar?" Minho points at the bowl of sugar in your reach.

"Sure," you say, picking it up and placing it on the kitchen counter next to him.

You're going to the other side of the kitchen counter and take a small sip of your coffee, you can sense the caffeine works to bring your brain to function. At the same time, your sense heightens that you know Minho is coming behind you to put the jar of sugar back into its place.

However, when he retracts his arm, his hand stays on your waist and it stays there, making you wonder what he's trying to do next so you turn your head to the side.

In the blink of an eye, Minho quickly captures your lips in a kiss and wraps his arms tightly around you. Your body is quick to respond to it but your brain is working at a sluggish pace.

By the time your brain catches up to it and tells you to stop, Minho already has his hand under your camisole and fondles at your breast.

"Minho..." you whine against his lips.

He breaks the kiss and stares into your eyes, "What?"

It's at the tip of your tongue and your mouth is open but no words coming out of it. Deep down, you know you want it and you don't want it to stop.

Instead of saying what you want out loud, you curve your arm around his neck and pull his head close for a kiss, picking it up and taking it up a notch.

With his free hand, Minho pushes your camisole upward, sending it hunched around your chest and exposing your breasts to the cool morning air.

He wastes no time to freely cup your breast in his hand and he likes how it fits him right, making him think that they were made just for him.

There's not much room for you to move with his arms firmly wrapped around you but when his hand glides down to cup your clothed sex, you start to push back against him and feel his bulge growing behind you.

Your common sense comes in ebbs and flows, and when it finally hits you, you suddenly pull his hand out of your shorts and break away from his hold.

"Kim will be back soon," you remind him with your voice tinted with concern.

Minho puts his hands on each side of your waist and makes you lean against the kitchen counter, "She won't be back for a while," he calmly says.

He then buries his mouth in the crook of your neck, peeling back the layers of worry off of you with every kiss he planted there.

All of a sudden, you find the guts to put your hands on his chest and push him a little too hard it sends him staggering a couple of steps to the back.

No matter how far you push him away, your body wants to be as close as possible to him. You find yourself walking back to him and taking your turn to corner him against the kitchen counter.

He's wearing this plain white t-shirt but gosh, it looks good on him and you like it even more when you can trace the muscles on his body through the fabric.

"But we don't know for sure," you say, leaning in for a kiss which he eagerly returns and makes him ask for more.

However, it's the grey sweatpants he's wearing that make you lose your mind a little. It's unclear whether it's the fabric or the color or the style of the pants that somehow accentuate the shape of his cock, or the way he walks around in the apartment in it and unaware of what it does to you.

You quietly pull his sweatpants low enough to let his member free out of its confine and without looking, your hand knows what it's looking for and immediately wrap your hand around it, slowly stroking it.

"For all we know, she may be back in a few minutes," you say against his lips.

Minho is engrossed in how you're slowly stroking his cock as you speak, it takes him a while to respond to your question.

"She won't," he assures you, pulling you close by the waist and putting his hand between your legs, rubbing your clit through your shorts.

"She's been gone for fifteen minutes now," you say before he has your lips locked with his again.

"Then we just have to make it quick," he simply resolves, lifting you by the waist, and swiftly, he turns around on his feet to sit you on the counter.

As a dancer, he is trained to lift his partner and he does it seamlessly as if he's lifting a piece of paper. Well, he has the muscles to prove his years-long dance training.

"Minho, we can't," you say as he leans in to kiss your neck.

Instead of stopping him from coming at your breasts, you hold them up for him so he can take them into his mouth.

He sucks on the flesh hard that you wince in pain and he lets go with a satisfied grin, "we definitely can," he coyly disagrees.

"What I'm saying is—" you pause as he parts your legs open, sending you leaning to the back and you quickly prop a hand to support you.

Minho tugs his hands at the elastic band of your pajama shorts and thinking of taking it off of you, you scramble to stop him.

"Just put it to the side," you tell him.

He obeys your words, putting the shorts along with your underwear to the side. He delightfully sighs at the sight of your heating core and he uses his fingers to feel how wet you are for him.

"I can't stop when you're this wet for me," he mutters as he swipes your lips with his fingers coated with your essence, then shoves it into his mouth next.

Feeling challenged to do the same, you lick your lips and get a taste of you on your tongue, you taste so sinfully sweet as the kiss he's about to plant on you.

While his lips keep you busy with kisses, Minho aligns his cock with your entrance, he rubs his tip between your folds then with a slow push, he starts to enter you.

The kiss breaks as the two of you shift your focus on how his cock pushing its way inside you. You spread your legs as wide as possible and watch as his cock is slowly disappearing into you.

Minho curves his hands around you and then glides them down until his hands meet the curve of your ass, he pulls you close, seeking closeness as he's about to fully bottomed out inside you.

"And I can't stop when you feel this good," he says as he crashes his lips against yours again.

The room soon filled with your low moans combined with the sounds of his hips against the back of your thighs. His nails dig into the flesh as he steadily keeps your legs open for him.

Even with your brain clouded with pleasure, a slight of fear comes creeping up in you and makes you keep looking to the side, in the direction of the foyer, and the fact that Kim can come in any minute now.

"Minho," you breathlessly call in between your moans.

You continue talking when you have his attention by putting your hand on his neck, "We can't keep doing this to Kim."

"I know," he says with a small nod, "it's unfair to her."

And it's unfair how he tries to take your mind away from things by suddenly adding intensity to his thrusts and going as shallow as possible inside you.

"Uh-huh, it's unfair," you repeat your words, suddenly losing all the words in your head.

Minho pulls you even closer until you're sitting on the edge of the counter while keeping the pace steady, he lets go of your legs and wraps his arms around you instead. He looks down at his cock slipping in and out of you then when his eyes find you, he intensely stares into your eyes as if he dares you to try to stop him again.

The truth is you're just a human who tends to make the same mistakes and above all that, you're just a girl who wants what she wants and in this moment, you want nothing else but him.

The grip on his shoulder tightens as you come to your climax, your moans turn into breathless whines and you bury your head in his neck.

Yet Minho keeps going and chasing for his high as your walls pulsate and flutter around him, all of those stimulations combined with the fear that Kim may walk in on you and him doing it in the kitchen only arouses him more.

"Don't cum inside," you whisper into his ear.

Now that you said it, it only makes him want to do it and he plans on ignoring those words.

You crumple the front of his t-shirt in your hand and force him to look you in the eyes, "Minho, you can't cum inside," you warn again.

Hearing the urgency in your voice, Minho refrains from doing it and wisely follows your words.

"Where do you want it then?" He asks, suddenly getting curious about your answer.

"My mouth," you shortly answer because it's the only way to make sure to leave no trace of this abomination. No trace means you can pretend that this never happened.

Minho stops moving for a second, unsure if he heard you right. You put your hand on his neck and say again, "You can cum in my mouth."

What you said seems to trigger something inside of him that he continues thrusting into you harder and faster, not caring that you've just cum around him a while ago which only make you even more sensitive than before.

You let him have it because this is the only way you know that'll bring him closer to his release. Also, you don't know how long this has been going on but you know that you don't have much left before Kim comes back.

All of a sudden, Minho puts his arms around your waist and steadily hoists you against him. You immediately wrap your legs around him and your arms around his shoulders.

"Oh..." a raw groan escapes his mouth as he lets go just a little and feels his cock deepens inside you as you cling to him.

The two of you stay still like that for a moment, encased in endless pleasure and palpable desire for each other that it feels like the slightest movement would break the spell.

Sadly, time isn't on your side.

You slowly let go of your hold around him, forcing Minho to put you down gently until your feet touch the floor and eventually, he has to pull out of you, making you feel the sudden emptiness.

You kneel on the floor as he incessantly pumps his cock to keep the stimulation going. You can see his cock, all red and veiny inches away from your eyes as you offer your mouth for him to dump his load.

Seeing him from this point of view surely feels new to you but not less arousing, you can see his forehead wrinkled with how much he focuses on chasing his release.

The most arousing part is the way he's looking down on you, seeing how much you want his cum in your mouth and he's the only one who can give it to you.

"Wider," he murmurs through his gritted teeth.

Also added is the fact that he is someone's boyfriend, oh, everything about it is arousing you so much that your hand flies to your cunt, touching yourself as you obey his word. While maintaining eye contact with him, you open your mouth wider and stick your tongue out a little, waiting for him to shoot his load on you like a bitch in heat.

The second his cum spurts out of his tip and lands on you, you gasp at how hot it feels on your skin. You close your eyes and keep your mouth open as more of his cum gets on your tongue, your lips, and all over your mouth.

Using the tip of his sock, Minho smears his pearly white cum all over your lips, tempting you to put it into your mouth and of course, you cave into the temptation. You give his tip a few kitten licks before taking his length little by little, you compensate for the rest you can't take with your hand.

"Oh..." he delightfully sighs with his head thrown back.

To see him fully indulging in it and hearing him moaning on pleasure encourages you to keep going, sucking him hard and syncing it with the pumping of your hand around the base of his cock.

"Oh, yes, keep going," he mutters to you with his voice soft and sultry.

He puts his hand in your hair and tugs at it, using it to angle your head slightly to the back to provide him more depth as he gently pushes a little more of his cock into your mouth.

"Fu..." his profanity trails off and turns into a breathless moan as he slowly begins thrusting his cock in and out of you.

You're aware that he's using your mouth for his pleasure and you don't mind any of it, if anything, it makes you want to touch yourself more. You allow yourself to do just that, rubbing on your clothed clit as Minho is fucking your mouth.

"Mmh..." you moan with your mouth full of his hot, swollen flesh.

"Oh, you and your fucking mouth," he mutters with a low breath, his eyes intently watching how you're taking every thrust of his cock into your mouth.

For a split second, you forget about Kim until you hear the sound of the front door opening and then closing. You're about to pull out but Minho's grip on the back of your head forces you to remain still.

Your heart starts pounding inside your chest as you hear her footsteps coming closer and she stops just on the other side of the counter where you remain hidden on this side with her boyfriend's cock deep in your throat.

"Oh, it's so hot today," Kim says, still panting from running. You hear her pouring water into a glass and then the sounds of her heartily gulping it.

Minho remains calm and puts his free hand on the counter, "Yeah, you sweat a lot, honey," he says.

There's a low thud of what you assume coming from Kim putting her glass down, "And where are my pancakes?"

"I want it to be hot when you're having it," he simply answers.

"Well then, I'm going to wash my face, and my hands and I'll be ready for pancakes," Kim says.

You can only imagine how she smiles brightly at him when she said it, oblivious to the fact that her roommate is sucking her boyfriend's cock as she speaks.

"They better be good," she adds as she walks away.

You start to relax when you hear her footsteps receding, then you hear the sound of the door being opened and then closed after.

Minho finally lets go of his dead grip on the back of your head and you immediately pull out, a little too fast that you choke on your saliva, sending you into a coughing fit.

You rise from the floor, fixing your clothes as you head to the sink to wipe the mess on your mouth with the running water.

It has just sunken into you of what you did with Minho, the guilt hits you like a ton of brick and it tastes bitter on your tongue no matter how much you rinse it with water.

"Are you okay, babe?" Kim asks you as she comes into the kitchen.

Her presence makes you choke on water this time, you grab a bunch of tissues from the box and wipe your mouth with it.

"I'm okay," you answer, "I'm just choked on something."

Without looking, you can feel Minho's sly smirk from across the kitchen counter. It's best if you exclude yourself from this to avoid any slips out.

"Where are you going?" Kim asks you, she drags a stool and pats it, "Come sit and eat pancakes with me!"

"No, I have something—"

"What do you possibly need to do on a Sunday morning?" She asks with a pout.

"Come on, take a seat!" She says, excitedly patting the seat and inviting you to sit next to her.

If you persist on leaving, she'll only get suspicious of you so you relent, sitting on the stool next to her while holding your cup of coffee.

On the other hand, Minho did his part too well. He acts like nothing happened and successfully makes pancakes for both you and Kim.

"You want cream with that, honey?" He asks Kim but his eyes wander your way for a second.

"No, thank you," Kim politely refuses, "but I'll have the syrups."

Minho wastes no time to get it for her from the kitchen cabinet and gives it to her. He then takes a tube of whipped cream and gives it a shake.

"Extra cream for you then," he says to you as he places creams on top of your pancakes and flashes you a faint smirk that only you can see.

Unable to respond to it with words, you stab the pancakes with your fork and have a bite at it, hate to admit it but it tastes good.

Well then this makes the first statement a truth: Minho is indeed good in the kitchen.

-

This is it, you say in your head as the bell in your head goes ding!

The apartment may be much smaller than Kim's but it has everything you need, a bedroom, an adequate space to be called a living room, and a fully functioning kitchen. The only downside is it's a farther commute to work but the affordable rent makes up for it and that's the most important thing.

"Are you going to take it?" Gaspard asks as he floats through the crowd like a divine being among mortals.

"I have to take it," you answer while trying to keep up with his long strides, "It's the best offer."

"I think so too," he says, putting his arm around you so you don't stray away from him.

"Yeah?"

He nods, "Cause then you'll be living only a few blocks away from me."

"Oh? You know what? I change my mind," you jokingly say, turning around to walk in the opposite direction.

"Hey!" He holds you back and steers you to the right way by the shoulders, "No turning back now!'

About a week ago, you made it very clear to Gaspard that you want to stay as good friends with him but it's easy to tell that he still believes this can be more than that. That leads you to act careful around him because you're scared that he's mistaken it for something else.

"Aren't you going to invite me upstairs?" He playfully asks as you both stand outside the apartment building.

"Better luck next time," You joke back with a gentle push on his chest.

"Not even for a can of beer?" He sweetly blinks his eyes at you in the hope that will be enough to persuade you.

"Just one!" You cave in because he's been helping you with the apartment hunting and you've been walking around since this afternoon until the day turns dark.

"Just one," he repeats your words in agreement.

"Promise?"

"Promise!"

The apartment is empty because Kim and Minho are out on a date which makes it a convenient time to enjoy a cold drink after a day's hard work.

"Where's Kim?" Gaspard asks as you join him on the sofa.

"I think they're going to the movies or something," you mindless answer, you couldn't care less about what they're doing on a date.

The two of you get quiet after taking a long gulp of beer and gasp at how refreshing it is like you didn't just have it with dinner earlier.

"I reckon you're going to break the news to Kim soon?" Gaspard asks as he leans back on the sofa with his head turned at you.

"Well... yeah," you meekly answer and it reminds you how of you're not ready for that part yet.

"How do you think she'll react?" He asks as he secretly puts his arm around your shoulders.

"I don't know," you sigh, then take a sip of your beer, "I just hope that she knows that the reason has nothing to do with her."

"What's the reason then?" Gaspard asks for the first time and seems to be genuinely curious about the answer.

It feels like you're trapped by your own words, you know the reason but you can't tell him or anyone for that matter.

"Because I want to live close to you," you decide to risk getting it mistaken for something else instead of letting him in on the answer.

With the hand around your shoulders, Gaspard easily pulls you close until you're sitting elbow to elbow and bumping knees with him on the sofa.

"Have I told you you looked beautiful today?" He seduces you as he's brushing your hair to the side.

"Not enough," you jokingly answer.

Gaspard leans in to whisper it to you right into your ear, "You're so beautiful," he mutters then kisses on the cheek.

"Thank you," you sweetly say with a smile.

Catching you off guard, he places one more kiss on the other cheek and pulls away with a big smile on his face. Well, you've done your part to spare him from the disappointment so it's not your fault that he puts himself back on the track for it.

"You promised it was going to be just one beer," you scold him along with a sassy eye roll.

"And I'm not finished with my beer yet," he cleverly answers.

The front door flies open and Kim comes into sight, finding you and Gaspard snuggling close together on the sofa. She smiles at you and puts down her bag on the dining table.

"What do we have here?" She asks with a sly smile.

"Nothing. We're just drinking beers," you calmly answer while quietly putting a safe space between you and Gaspard on the sofa.

"Yeah, I'm just here for one beer," Gaspard says, emphasizing the amount of beer with a sly grin flashed your way.

"And he'll leave soon," you add, returning the sly grin to him.

Taking this as a sign to give you privacy so you can break the news to Kim, Gaspard says, "And I'm leaving."

"No. Stay," Kim says as she sits on the sofa next to you.

"I can only bother you this much, Kim," he jokingly says and comes at you for a hug, "I'll see my way out."

"Thanks for today," you say as you hug him back.

You wait until Gaspard leaves to talk to Kim about what you did today and that you'll be moving out of the apartment soon. You finish your beer to fuel your courage and quietly exhale air to calm yourself down.

"Kim, I need to talk to you about something," you start.

Kim brushes her long dark hair and rests it on her shoulder like a waterfall, "Mmh? What is it?" She asks.

Now, that you have her attention and no one else is here except for the two of you, this is the right time to tell her. You open your mouth and plan to just give it to her all at once until Minho comes through the front door.

"Where do you want me to put it?" He asks Kim, showing the plastic bag he's carrying in his hand.

"Can you put them in the fridge for me, honey?" Kim answers.

"Sure," he shortly answers, going to the kitchen to do what Kim asked him to do.

"I ran out of my fiber drinks," she says, explaining what she made Minho bought for her.

"Ah, I see..." you meekly respond, losing every word you've been carefully arranging in your head so you abort the plan to tell her about the apartment situation.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" She asks with a soft smile on her face, making you feel even more disheartened to tell her.

"Oh, I..." you feel tempted to just let it all out but your eyes keep uneasily glancing at Minho and you don't want him there to hear it.

"I forgot what I'm trying to say to you. Sorry," you lie and add a foolish laugh to convince her.

Kim seems to buy it as she cracks a laugh and gently slaps your knee, "You silly!"

"I'll tell you once I remember it," you say to her.

Or more like, when Minho isn't around.

-

Two days have passed with Kim is still oblivious that you'll be moving out of the apartment soon.

You always missed each other's timing, when you had the time, Kim was in a hurry to go to the academy and when she was alone at home, you were working late that night. It's like a mysterious force trying to hold you back from telling her the truth.

When you came home from work tonight, you found Kim eating dinner alone in the kitchen. To make sure that Minho isn't around or coming unannounced like usual, you simply ask why she is by herself when her boyfriend always drives her home and usually stays to have dinner together.

"Minho's car broke down so I took a taxi home," Kim answers with a low sigh.

"Oh, that's upsetting," you keep your expression in check as you say it, not risking Kim catching you turn his misfortune into an opportunity.

"It's about time he sends his car to the shop anyway," Kim says.

It's unethical to interrupt her in the middle of her dinner so you carefully pick your timing and wait until she's done with her dinner to talk.

You grab a can of juice from the fridge and take a seat next to her, "Kim, can I talk to you about something?" you hesitantly say.

"Sure, babe," she says, putting down her glass of water then stacks her hands together on the dining table, "What is it?"

"A week ago, I found a suitable apartment not far from Gaspard's. It's not as big as this..." you gulp air to be able to continue talking, "It's in a nice neighborhood and the rent is affordable so I'm thinking of moving in there."

A moment passes in silence as Kim processes your words, her fingers wrapped around the bottom of her glass and tapping at it.

"You want to move out?" She asks as the glints in her eyes slightly dim.

"Yes," you hesitantly say.

"I reckon it's about time that I get my own place," you hurriedly add the number one reason why you want to move out so she doesn't think that it has anything to do with her.

"It's not because of me, right?" She meekly asks.

"No," you answer without a beat, "I love being your roommate but you know... I can't stay here forever. I eventually have to move out."

"Nonsense! You definitely can stay here forever," Kim remarks as she grabs your hand on your lap.

You put your hand on hers and softly smile at her, "I'd love to but..."

You can't keep living with her knowing you've been betraying her and the guilt is eating you alive from the inside as you speak? You continue in your head.

"It's either now or later, it's something that I have to do," you settle on a reasonable answer.

"That's true," Kim weakly says, looking a little taken aback by your announcement.

"I'm sorry if this is so sudden. I didn't mean to keep it this long, we were so busy these past few days that I only got the chance to tell you now," you explain with utmost sincerity.

Kim nods and puts on a smile for you, "it's okay. I understand."

Your heart is getting heavy the more you talk, you'd better end it before the guilt gets to you and you're giving it the chance to crawl out of you. You grab your purse, rummaging through the content for the envelope you've been putting aside and planning to give to Kim.

"This is for this month's rent," you hand the envelope straight into her hand.

She folds it in half and puts the envelope back into your hand, "Take it. You need it for moving and buying stuff for your new apartment.

"No, Kim. I can't. It's yours!" You forcefully put it back into her hand but she balls her hand into a fist.

"Consider this as an early housewarming gift," she insists, holding your hand down to make you stop giving the envelope back to her.

"Kim, no... I shouldn't—" You sigh in defeat, having no other way to make her accept your money.

"I'm going to miss you," Kim's voice cracks, and the next thing you know, she's hugging you so tightly that you can feel how much she meant her words.

"Oh, Kim, you can't get rid of me yet," you playfully say to lighten up the mood, "at least, for the next three weeks."

This is why you have to move out soon, Kim is too kind and all you do in return is use her kindness to fool her and stab her in the back, you've been treating her like a shit friend, and you feel sick have to keep doing that to her.

-

This is statement number two: Minho knows that he's the reason why.

There's this gut feeling that something is going to happen. This could be just a reaction to the change you'll face soon, new apartment, new neighborhood, there'll be no Kim, and the realization that you'll do everything on your own at that point.

It's scary and exciting, you feel a little bit of both at times. One thing that always lingers inside you is this slight fear that Minho possibly knows he's the reason why you decide to move out.

A week went by and you can safely assume that Kim must have told Minho about the apartment situation. You swear you're not expecting anything at all from Minho, but he's been strangely normal and taciturn which only confirms that something is actually off about him.

You should be taking this as an advantage because then you wouldn't have to interact with him and fewer interactions lead to you making fewer mistakes with him.

Work has been keeping you busy too that you haven't had the chance to pack your things. When you come home late tonight, Kim is already sleeping and you don't want to bother her by the sound of you shoving your things into boxes.

Well, you still have a week left anyway to sort your things out and you're tired from work, you hurriedly make your way to the bathroom for a quick shower.

In the midst of it, you hear the knocking on the door and your first thought is that Kim must be in urgency to use the bathroom.

"Kim?" You call but there's no answer

You turn off the shower and put on a bathrobe, you carefully walk as water drips down your body and hair to open the door.

"Is that you..." your words trail off as you see who's coming into the bathroom and it's not Kim.

There was no sign that Minho was in the apartment when you walked in because you could tell from the sight of his shoes in the foyer or his bag that sits in the living room so unless he has the ability to become invisible, it means that he came just now to the apartment.

Gosh! You tried so hard to avoid temptation and now it's coming to get you. You're clutching your bathrobe together and head to the door.

"You can use the bathroom," you say without looking at him.

He grabs you by the elbow to stop you from leaving, he pulls you hard enough that your body crashes against him, then wraps his arms around you.

"I heard you're moving out," he says.

You break away from his hold and put his hands away from you, "not your business," you say.

Minho is quick to catch your hands by the wrist then he folds them together behind your back, making you unable to move as he leans in to kiss you.

You turn your head to the side, not letting him kiss you but instead of doing that, he steers your body to the back until your back meets the bathroom sink.

"Is it because of me?" He asks.

You scoff and make a mocking smirk at him, "Not everything is about you, Minho," you say, daringly staring into his dark brown eyes.

Catching you off guard, Minho crashes his lips against you and you hate that you instinctively return his kiss. He pulls away for a bit then plants his lips on yours again, deeper and hungrier than before.

Getting a moment of clarity, you pull away from the kiss and keep your head turned away from him, "We can't keep doing this to Kim," you remark.

He leans in close until his face is only inches away from yours, "So you admit that it's because of me?"

There's no way of denying it anymore so you may as well just admit it, "You made me do this and I don't—"

He cuts you off with a kiss and you have to pull your head back hard enough to break it, "I hate myself for it and I hate you for making me keep doing this to Kim," you bravely tell him right to his face.

He leans in even closer so that you can see the dark orbs of his eyes, "Tell that to me once again," he dares you.

This is the time to break away from this cycle that shackles you with guilt, you should stop now before all this guilt weighs you down and drown you further.

"I hate you, Minho," you unequivocally tell him with unwavering eyes.

Minho intensely stares into your eyes to see if your words match what you're feeling inside. His eyes flick down to your lips, tempted to lean in for another but when his lips make contact with yours, he changes his mind.

He lets go of his hold on you all at once and then takes a step back, exiting the room and leaving you untethered for good.

-

It seems like what you've said to him has done it because Minho acts like you're not even there whenever you're in the same space with him and this morning, you find yourself in the kitchen with him just quietly minding your own business.

This is good, right? That means there'll be no more mistakes, no more betraying Kim and you can start being a good friend again. The best thing of all, you get to move out of the apartment on a good note.

"Hey, you're not working late tonight, right?" Kim asks as you're enjoying your morning coffee.

"I hope not," you say, putting down your half-eaten toast on the plate, "Cause I have lots to do tomorrow."

Kim nods and pours herself a glass of orange juice, "Since this will be your last night in an apartment, I'm hoping that we can have dinner together," she says with a smile.

She walks up to Minho and places her hand on the small of his back, "Minho will be cooking, of course, and I'll get a nice bottle of wine for—"

You quickly swallow your food to refuse the idea, "Oh, no, Kim, please, I don't feel good—"

She clicks her tongue at you and shakes her head, "No, you can't say no. I'll be waiting for you to come home whether you like it or not," she insists.

Maybe it's coming from the fact that she comes from a privileged family, Kim can be quite adamant about certain things, especially when she wants something, in one way or another, she has to get it.

The whole time at work, you're debating whether to make an excuse to avoid attending dinner or just gladly accept Kim's kind gesture and come to the dinner, the latter is what a good friend would do, right?

On the way home, you purposely missed the trains a couple of times before finally getting in. You're dreading it because Minho is cooking dinner and that means he'll be there for it, and this is worse than doing things behind Kim's back because you have to act innocent in front of her.

At the door of the apartment, you take a few deep breaths with your hand holding the doorknob. You console yourself with the thought that you'll only have to endure it for one more night and all this will disappear tomorrow.

"I'm home," you announce your arrival and try your best to sound cheerful as you make your way inside.

As expected, Kim is sitting at the dining table with Minho and it seems like they started without you as you see the glasses of wine.

"Oh, there you are!" Kim claps her hands together in delight.

"I'm sorry. The train was delayed for almost an hour," you make up an excuse for your tardiness while putting down your bag on the kitchen counter and head to the kitchen sink to wash your hands.

"I hope you don't mind that we almost finished the first bottle without you," Kim says.

"I don't mind at all," you say as you dry your hand with a napkin.

As you take a seat at the dining table, Minho gets up his seat and heads to the kitchen. You can't tell if that's intentional or not, but you remind yourself to not give an ounce of care to whatever he's doing.

"Minho only needs to reheat the sauce and dinner will be ready," Kim says as she fills your glass with red wine and the aphrodisiac smell wafting around in the room.

"Thank you," You smile in gratitude and take a small sip of it.

"So, how was work?"

"Dreadful," you shortly answer and reward yourself with another sip.

Kim cracks a laugh and something about it gives you the impression that she's rather a little intoxicated already.

"I'm sorry that I can't help you move out tomorrow," she says as she pours more wine into her glass which you deem is not a smart move.

"That's more than fine," you respond, "I heard from Gaspard you guys have started practicing for the winter show."

"Oh, yeah..." she softly says and then gets lost in her words for a second.

"We're doing The Nutcracker, again," she says with a dramatic pause.

"That sounds fun!" You nicely respond.

"You should come on the opening day, I'll send the ticket," she enthusiastically says and sips her wine.

"Only if you come to my little housewarming party," you meekly say even though you're not sure you know how to throw a party of any kind.

"That's a deal!" She says, clinking her glass of wine with you to seal the deal.

The mouthwatering smell has taken over the room as Minho serves the food on the table, he's cooking pasta and a big steak to share which he has sliced, showing off the perfect level of cooking doneness.

"This is delicious, honey," Kim praises after taking a bite of it, she then turns to look at you, "What do you think?"

"This is really good," you compliment because, despite everything, you can't deny that he's a good cook which also reminds you to thank him for it.

"Thank you for cooking dinner, Minho," you say even though his name feels dry and strange on your tongue.

He only nods and doesn't say anything but put more food on Kim's plate, and you can't lie that you feel a little dejected by his lack of reaction.

The dinner would be a big awkward moment if Kim wasn't leading ninety percent of the conversation on the table but as the night goes on and more wine dawned in, Kim starts to slur her words and mindlessly rambles about random things all at once. It gets to the point that she accidentally knocks things off, first it was her glass of wine and then, a pitcher of water that is now flooding the dining table.

"Kim, I think it's time for bed," you kindly say.

She brushes her hair away and sniffles, "But it's your last night here."

"We'll still be seeing each other tomorrow," you console her.

She cracks a smile and then snorts, "That's right."

Minho is quick to offer himself to carry her to bed but before she comes into his arms, Kim crashes herself into you and hugs you so tightly.

"You're the best roommate I've ever had," she mumbles with her head buried in your neck.

You put your arms around her to return her hug and gently pat her back, "That's so sweet of you, Kim."

"And I'm not saying that because you're the only roommate I've ever had, I genuinely love having you here," she says, pausing to inhale air.

"it's going to be so weird coming home and you're not here," she adds with a sniffle.

You can't bring yourself to check whether she's crying or not because if she does, there's a big chance you'll cry too. Instead, you look at Minho to let him know this is why you can't hurt her anymore.

All of a sudden, Kim breaks away from the hug and runs to Minho, she lets him take her to the bedroom. You watch as they get inside and close the door behind them.

After cleaning up the dining table and doing the dishes, you can finally go to your bedroom, being with yourself for the first time after a long, eventful day.

The room is bare since you have packed everything into boxes and you're standing there wondering how your life fits in those boxes. It gets you all sentimental as you feel like you're going on a new path in life.

The moment gets interrupted as you notice through the reflection in the mirror that Minho is coming into your room. Before you can stop him, he barges in and crashes his body against yours, lips instantly locked with yours as if they're two opposites of the magnet.

"Minho..." you sadly whine against his lips.

When you look into his eyes though, you just can't find it in you to resist him anymore so you give in and let tonight be another mistake.

Just one more mistake, you tell yourself.

-

Minho likes it when you're saying one thing but your body does the opposite. He's holding you close from behind and his hand is down south, fingers playing with your clit before he pushes one digit inside you, making you shut your legs together in reaction.

"We can't do this," you mutter against his lips.

He's expecting you to say that at one point but not this early in the night and not when he's just started. He presses his mouth into your ear and whispers, "Fight back harder if you don't want this."

There are so many ways for you to tell him off, you can break away from his hold, you can push him away and close the door right on his face but you do want this, he can see in the mirror how you liked being touched all over and how you like two fingers instead of one inside you.

"Oh..." you shakily moan as he enters two digits into you now.

Minho can feel it blooming under his touch and how wet you are for him, how your body wants more of him despite all of your efforts to stop him.

And you know what? He wants you just as much if not more.

He starts undressing you, taking every piece of clothing off of you as eager as a child unwrapping his Christmas present, and then gently, he lays you down on the end of the bed.

You look up at him with your eyes wide and flickering with desire, "Let's stop here, I let you—"

There you go with your empty warning again, he shuts you off with a kiss, "There's no way I can hold back," he says to you.

Impatient, he rips open his shirt and tosses it aside before kneeling at the end of the bed to indulge in your pool of arousal. Your moans begin to fill the room and in the mirror, he can see you try to muffle it by covering your mouth with your hand.

Minho can't get over how wet you are for him and he wants to keep it that way as he has lots of things he wants to do to you.

He gets up from the floor and quickly gets rid of his jeans next, then wastes no time to walk up to you. He takes your legs by the ankles, lifting them and holding them close to his chest, and then slowly, he parts them open.

Oh, the sight of your wet flushed cunt will never cease to arouse him. His head gets dizzy just from looking at it and it starts spinning as you put your hand around his cock.

"Fuck!" He curses under his breath as you bring his cock and rub it between your folds, making him more impatient to be inside you.

His patience wears thin and he puts his focus on aligning it with your entrance.

"Minho, I told you we can't— oh..." you loudly moan as you feel his cock penetrates you and stop talking as he pushes the rest in a painstakingly slow motion to make sure you feel every inch of his length stretching you.

"Doesn't this feel way too good?" He says as he deeply stares into your eyes.

He doesn't need to hear you say it, he knows because you feel too good around him too. He is steadily holding your legs on each side of his waist as he starts thrusting into you.

Minho can't decide whether he should watch his cock slipping in and out of you or watch how much you're enjoying it, quietly moaning while tugging your fingers between your teeth.

One thing he knows what to do is to make this last as long as possible, he stops when he knows you're closing in on your high.

"Oh," you sigh as he pulls out of you and swiftly, turns you over on the bed.

Now, he has you lying on your stomach and he grips your waist, raising it a little higher to give him just the right angle to enter you from behind.

You whine as you feel him full again and he's lowering himself on top of you, he's propping his elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.

Minho puts his hand around your neck and slightly tilts your head to the back to land a kiss on your lips. He can feel the blood rushing in your veins with his hand wrapped around your neck.

"Minho, let's stop this already," you whine.

Despite his cock buried deep inside you, you still find it in you to try to stop him. He kisses you hard and deep as if he's trying to strip all of your senses away.

"Shut up!" He tells you, "You don't even want to stop."

From the way you close your mouth is enough to tell him that you have no response to that but he knows now that he needs to fuck all these worries out of you.

Minho does all of that, he's fucking you with all his might, he watches how your face contorted in pleasure, how your hands are crumpling the sheet under you as he picks up the pace.

"Minho..." you breathlessly call.

Before you can say anything to stop him again, he grabs your chin and makes you see your reflection in the mirror, "Look at that!"

He waits until you open your eyes and see yourself in the mirror as he asks you, "Does it look like you want me to stop?"

Fucking you good isn't enough, he needs to fuck you hard enough that you forget everything else except for this moment where only you and him exist in this sinful tryst.

"If you keep going, I'm going to come," you whine between your moans.

Minho takes that as a sign that he's heading the right way but rather than adding speed to his thrusts, he slows down his pace and allows himself to melt onto you, putting his body on yours, placing kisses all over your shoulder and neck until his lips find their way back to yours.

There's no way he's finishing this without seeing your face when it's everything he wanted the most from it, seeing how fucked out you are that you can't find words to say.

After turning you over on the bed, he takes a moment to let his eyes lust over your body and then he runs his hand all over you, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips. He's using his mouth next to suck on your breasts and his tongue to play with your nipples.

All these times, he's been good by not doing it but the urge to mark you is getting unbearable so he does it, sucking on your ample flesh hard enough that he knows it's going to leave a mark.

"Ow..." you yelp in pain but it comes out as a mewl as you try to keep your noises on the low.

Minho settles himself between your legs, burying his head once again in your wetness to prepare you for what comes next. You're whining and moaning, sometimes, it's a mix of both and it's resounding in the room.

He starts to believe that you forgot about his girlfriend sleeping in the bedroom across the room, he puts it to the test by sucking on your clit which earned a loud moan for you. He's right, you forgot about it until a while later, and you hurriedly cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

He gets impatient all over again when it comes to entering you, he can only hold himself back so much and his self-control is wearing thin. He's lowly groaning as he pushes himself back into you, feeling your tight walls welcoming him.

"How are you feel so good every damn time, mmh?" He asks in disbelief with a rough kiss on your lips.

The sex feels so much better than the previous and if he could, he is just wanting to keep doing it with you because it doesn't feel like with other people, including his girlfriend of almost three years.

He watches as your eyes fluttering open and shut, and breathless moans spilling out of your parted mouth, overwhelmed by what he's doing to you.

"Look at you! Making lewd moans for me," he mutters with an intense gaze directed toward you.

He brushes your hair away from your face and kisses your open mouth, "Aren't you supposed to hate me?"

You lick your lips and look at him through your half-shut eyes, "I hate— oh..."

He launches his cock deeper inside you, not letting you finish your sentence, and keeps the intensity of his thrusts to distract you.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" You manage to repeatedly say and Minho roughly thrusts into you every time you say it.

"That doesn't sound convincing," he mockingly says, pretending like it doesn't affect him when in fact, it does.

"I hate you and I hate your guts," you say with your body shaking from how hard he's fucking you and your breasts jiggling along to it.

The hate somehow encourages him to keep going, he's letting go of himself and letting his body take care of the rest. He doesn't need to worry about you, he knows you are on the brink of—

"Oh, my—" You let out a broken moan as you reach your climax

Minho keeps moving to chase his high, his nails digging into the flesh on your thighs as he's going impossibly fast, ramming himself into you until he too, finally reaches his high.

Even though he's high in unadulterated pleasure and his brain is foggy because of it, he knows his way to your kiss, he slowly puts himself on top of you and softly places his lips on yours. There's something intimate about this, it feels pure and raw, it's just you and him locked in a chaste kiss.

However, when you break from the kiss, you look at him and say for the umpteenth time, "I hate you, Minho."

Isn't it tiring to lie? Isn't it tiring to keep hiding? But sure, you can say things that go against what you're feeling and betray your own heart as much as you want but Minho isn't one to do that kind of thing.

He holds the side of your face and fiercely looks back into your eyes as he calmly says, "That's too bad because I like you."

-

That makes it the third statement: Minho likes you.

If the other two are the truth then that makes this a lie, right? But, oh well, why bother figuring it out when you've already moved on from that part of life?

It takes a month to adjust to your new apartment and discover some places around your neighborhood like a regular cafe to visit when you need your caffeine fix and a bakery that sells this delicious bagel when you need a breakfast to-go.

There's no denying that you miss Kim from time to time and it feels a little lonely when you come home from work, and that's why you're excited for tonight, you're having the housewarming party that has been postponed twice because Kim got tied with her practice schedule.

Swear to God! You're just excited to meet her again and not at the possibility that you'll meet her boyfriend again.

Since you doubt your skill in cooking, you decide to order some food from Gaspard's recommendations and he also comes early to help set the table.

"You're chipper than usual," he comments as he cleans the table with a cloth.

"Am I? I feel exceptionally normal," you playfully respond.

When the doorbell rings, your heart palpation and you can't even bring yourself to peek through the peephole, you take a deep breath and turn the knob.

"Hi, my darling!" Kim gasps the second you open the door for her and you both exchange a quick, warm hug.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind me bringing a plus one," she adds, opening the door wider to let someone else in.

The excitement fills you to the brim that you feel like you're about to combust but it deflates in a second when you see that she's bringing someone else.

"You remember Astrid?" Kim asks.

You hide your disappointment and put on a smile, "I believe we met at the party," you vaguely remember her from her dirty blonde hair and Kim's fellow dancer.

"Yes, exactly that Astrid," she says as she shakes your hand.

"Please, come in!" You politely say, making a way for your guests to come inside your small apartment.

Gaspard appears to welcome Kim and gives her a quick hug, as if he heard your thoughts, he asks, "I thought you'd be with Minho."

"His car broke down again," Kim sighs as she takes off her coat, "I already told him so many times to buy a new one instead of sending his car to the shop."

This is so infuriating. No matter how much you convince yourself that you don't care about Minho, reality slaps you with the truth. You've been under the illusion that this distance will help you diminish this feeling but you do care, you care a lot.

The party went well or that's what you guessed, you were out of it most of the time, your body was here but your mind was going all over the place.

"You're so quiet," Gaspard comments again as he helps you clean up after Kim and Astrid leave.

"I'm just... sad," you honestly admit but decide to lie about the details, "Soon you'll be leaving too and I'm alone again."

Gaspard slyly smiles at you and leans the side of his body against the wall, "I mean, I can stay with you," he offers.

You scoff and put the dirty glasses into the sink, "Well, then you won't be missing me tomorrow," you say with a pout.

He sighs as he takes your subtle rejection with an open heart, "Are we still on for Sunday brunch?"

"Why? Do you need to cancel?" You jokingly say.

He bumps his shoulder with you as he joins in the kitchen sink to help you with the dishes, "Your treat!"

"Sure. My treat!" You agree with a bump into his shoulder.

A little after eleven, Gaspard left the apartment too with a long hug and a kiss on your cheek. You're going back inside to tidy up a few things while draining the wine from the leftover dinner, chugging it straight from the bottle.

It feels rewarding that you finish the wine by the time you're done cleaning the kitchen and now, you're tired enough to not think of anything else and ready for bed.

As you're about to change out of your dress, you hear the doorbell rings and your first thought is it's Gaspard, because he's done it before and he's shooting his shot for the umpteenth time. You're holding yourself back from laughing and head to the door to open it, unlocking it without checking it through the peephole first.

"What? Do you miss me already?" You jokingly say as you pull open the door.

"Yes," Minho answers without a beat as he's standing in front of you, making your heart race inside your chest and waking the kaleidoscope of butterflies as they start to flutter around in your stomach.

The first thing that comes to your head is what he said to you that night. Minho likes you and you still can't determine this one statement, well, it seems like you need to play another round to know if it's a lie or a truth.

-

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[starvrse]

MISSING YOU

| pairing : non-idol!kim minji x famous!fem reader

| summary: minji misses you and gets horny

| warnings: g!p minji, smut, jerking off using panties, lowercase, not proofread, more but i can’t think of them 😭

minji let out a heavy sigh as she entered her dorm and locked the door. it’s been 2 days since you left korea and went to paris for fashion week, and she missed you soo much.

she tried to take her mind off missing you by studying. but no matter how hard she tried to focus on her school work, her thoughts kept drifting back to you. she longed for the comfort of your embrace, the sound of your voice, and the feeling of your lips on hers. despite her best efforts, her heart ached with the loneliness of missing you.

eventually minji shut her book and leaned back in her chair, letting out a groan. thinking of a different way to get her mind off you, the kim picked up her phone and decided to scroll on random apps.

after scrolling for a while, her thoughts eventually drifted away from you. she continued mindlessly scrolled through her feed, when suddenly a post caught her attention, reading “OMG YN AT FASHION WEEK” her finger paused for a moment on the screen, mentally cursing her internet for not loading the content fast enough.

after a couple of seconds, the videos finished loading and she found herself unable to look away from the sight of you. the more she watched, the more her heart ached with longing and the more her cock started reacting.

minji lightly bit her lip as she scanned her eyes across the outfit you were wearing. the tight Chanel dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. the dress was a classic black and white houndstooth print, with a tight bodice that accentuated your small waist and full hips, and a skirt that flared out at the knees, giving it a retro yet sophisticated vibe. your hair was in a high ponytail with a side part, the style was basic yet you made it look amazing.

palming her cock while scrolling through your hashtag, the dark haired girl felt dirty and embarrassed for being so horny. turning off and putting her phone on the table, she pulled her pajamas pants and boxers down.

wrapping her hand around her hard dick, she slowly started pumping it. closing her eyes shut and letting out light sighs, minji moved her hand faster, trying her hardest to get off.

“obviously this isn’t working..” she mumbled to herself, feeling more frustrated and out of control than before. she clenched her jaw and let out a frustrated huff, knowing that she needed something more intense to finally find the release she so desperately craved.

giving up, she stands up out of her chair and makes her way to the bathroom to clean herself up. throwing her boxers in the dirty clothes bin, she catches a glimpse of the small pile of your dirty laundry that you left.

—

“this is sick…” she thinks to herself as she searches through the pile and finds a pair of your victoria secret panties. she picks them up and brings it to her nose, inhaling your scent deeply. as your familiar smell fills her senses, she closes her eyes and lets out a soft sigh.

immediately running back to her chair she picks up her phone and opens the same photo of you. setting her phone up on her books she sniffs your panties again while jerking her cock faster, staring at the picture. letting out moans and whimpers as she imagines pulling at your ponytail while your on your knees looking up at her with her cock in your mouth.

she abruptly stops everything. standing up, laying your underwear on her table, and picking up her phone while opening the camera app. she presses record with her left hand and starts pumping her dick again with her right. putting her shirt in her mouth so you can get a clear view of her abdomen, and so she doesn’t ruin her favorite shirt with cum, she lets out muffled whimpers.

finally reaching her peak, her shirt drops out her mouth, and whiny moans of your name spill out of her lips. as her nut spirts all over your panties, the desk, and the floor.

after squeezing out every last drop of cum on your underwear, her left hand shakily zooms in on her fingers spreading out her semen on them.

“i-i’m sorry for ruining your panties princess, this is what happens when i miss you.” she says, the pout evident in her voice. minji stops the video and doesn’t waste any time going to your contact and sending it, typing a “wish you were here to clean me up :(((“ after.

have you guys realized how ass i am at making titles 😭anyways we’re so back 🙂‍↕️ also sorry for the awkward ending i literally did not know how to end ts 😭😭 just use ur imagination for yns reply 🙏 REQUEST ARE OPEN OH YEAHHH KEEP ME BOOKED AND BUSY

[sluttywoozi]

Like A Cowboy

Maintaining a homestead can be exhausting. Luckily, you've got a super hot cowboy husband who's got enough energy to do it all and take care of you once the work is done.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~25.2k

Like A Cowboy | Cowboy Like Me | Give You My Wild | May Flowers

Let Me

You've been the student athletic trainer for your uni's basketball team all year, and you're pretty sure Mingyu has had a crush on you the whole time. You're not sure how much longer you can resist him.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~9.0k

Part 1 | Part 2

Scrunchie

Prompt: Mingyu’s new little ponytail and my own evil brain

Rating: M (18+) | Word Count: ~0.8k

Salty and Sweet

Prompt: every time you taste my cooking you just say it’s amazing does it need more salt or not I swan to John | est. relationship, suggestive thoughts, kissing

Rating: M (18+) | Word Count: ~0.6k

Alternative Methods In Pain Relief

You have cramps, Mingyu has hands, need I say more?

Rating: M (18+) | Word Count: ~1.0k

Enjoy The Masterpiece

College boyfie!Mingyu wants you to sit on his face. He's literally begging here.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.1k

Good To Me

You know exactly how to get your husband to fuck you like he means it.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.8k

Meet the Parents

Mingyu is meeting your parents today, and it absolutely must go well. So why are you teasing him like this?

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~5.2k

Code of (Mis)Conduct

You're just trying to keep your head down and your coworkers out of your business but that's not exactly easy when your cubicle sits between Choi San's and Kim Mingyu's.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~10k

Lavender Haze

When you and your boyfriend smoke together and he gives you that look, you know exactly what you’re in for.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.8k

Adore You

Mingyu prides himself on being the perfect personal assistant, on knowing exactly what you need and giving it to you before you can even ask, so when he hears you say your ex never could get you there, he takes it, well, personally.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~8.0k

Undone

Mingyu's the CEO of his company, he can't be late. But, then again, maybe he can when his goddess of a girlfriend is tempting him like this.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.3k

Interlude No. 4

Twice, Mingyu has tried to go home and the third time, he actually makes it out of the door. So why has he come back?

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2.7k

Kinktober Day 16 - Daddy kink with Mingyu

Rating: M (18+) | WC: 746

Kinktober Day 25 - Double Penetration with MinWon

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.1k

Chubby!Reader Headcanons

Soft!Mingyu Headcanons

Werewolf!Mingyu Headcanons

Knotting/Pregnancy Headcanons

Seventeen Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[en-gelic]

bubblegum ✸ 엔하이픈

syn. to be loved by them. gn. idolxnon-idol, fluff ⋆ wc 873 ! warnings. skinship, kisses ୨୧ so sweet like bubblegum ʚɞ BOOKSHELF! ⋆

🗯 taglist : @cholexc @07sleepykatz @seunghancore (ask or comment to be added !)

To be loved by lee heeseung meant he would continuously remind you of how much he loved you by kissing you in his favourite places— your neck, your fingers and your jawline. Tying your hair when you were working or busy, and staring holes through your back when you were applying lip gloss, eagerly waiting to wipe it off. Late night calls you would have when he couldn't sleep resulted in you reciting your notes to him, which usually had him asleep in minutes. If it were you struggling to fall asleep, he would sing to you causing you to unconsciously end up staying up just to listen to his voice. You made him cover any song possible and got exclusive covers just for the two of you. He would show off in front of the members whenever you would watch him game.

To be loved by park jongseong meant him sending you options for your hair dye at unholy hours of the morning and coming over extra early to help you with it. Constantly asking whether you had eaten and whether your work was going well. He would be over at your house, scolding you on eating too much fast food and making meal preps for whenever you were too busy. Consulted you before buying anything, which was a terribly bad option as you were the type to encourage anything but kitchen appliances that aren't coffee makers. He would also send you any flavour of coffee he was able to find and constantly expressed his love through sending you gifts wherever he was.

To be loved by sim jaeyun meant him letting you tie his hair into little ponytails even if you tugged too hard. Giving you piggy-backs and using your height difference as an advantage when he wanted to tease you. He would ruffle your hair a lot, which was a habit of his you hated the most. Kissing your head before he went anywhere and teaching you how to fish was his favourite things to do. Whenever he saw an opportunity, he took random photos of you that you never saw until he posted it and defended himself by the fact that they were quite good.

To be loved by park sunghoon meant picking his jewelry— especially glasses and taking any accessory you could find from his collection. Calling you every hour when he was abroad just to ask you whether you were fine and giving you any shirt with his name on it and making you wear it when you were going out with friends to show his 'dominance' he had said to defend himself. He would pout if you didn't say 'I love you' before ending the call and demanded a kiss as an apology. Would send you photos of scenery when he was away and had the habit of eating food that you like on your behalf.

To be loved by kim sunoo meant spending evenings binge watching popular shows while hating most of their plots. Getting you to watch horror movies with him because you were the clingiest when you were scared. Applying your lipgloss for you to give the reason that since he put it on, he can take it off and washing your hair whenever you didn't feel like doing it. Peppering your face with kisses in the excuse that his lips were like free skincare. Would organise your wardrobe every other week, complaining about how disorganised you were. He would be very serious when it comes to not eating until the movie began and would slap your hands away if you tried to eat before it played.

To be loved by yang jungwon meant him picking up souvenirs from anywhere he want and matching clothes with you on purpose but acting as if he didn't mean to. Would send a message before going live to make sure you were able to attend every live if you could. Buys you everything that you like in the convenience store and dumps it all in your house whenever you weren't around, leaving a note he scribbled before leaving. He would create random nicknames for you and send an English 'word of the week' to help with the two of you learning English.

To be loved by nishimura riki meant inside jokes which only the two of you could understand. Fiddling with his rings when he held your hand and raiding his closet whenever you got the chance. He would purposely buy things for 'himself' that he knew you would like, and pretending to be irritated when you take them. Putting things in high places you can't climb up to get just so you could ask him for help. Constantly getting him to draw for you, no matter how many times he says that he's not that good. Adoring your cats whenever he came over and making sure that they weren't bothering you when you were busy with work. Trying to lose every game for you because you were too competitive. Back hugs and cuddles with his body either towering or covering yours which was the best form of body heat in winter. He habitually pretends to not see you since you were much shorter than him.

[ericscroptop]

Best Friends

✧ pairing: kim sunwoo x best friend fem! reader

✦ genre: fwb + smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) smut, doggy style, unprotected sex, pet names, cursing, angst??? lowkey unrequited love, lmk if i’m missing anything else!

✦ word count: 1.9k words

✧ synopsis: sunwoo is secure in what you two have, while you end up getting sidetracked and catching little feelings for your best friend.

✦ note: this is based off the weeknd’s song “best friends.” highly underrated song imo. i hope y’all enjoy xx

(i might write a prequel to this of when it all started, but only if i get motivated, lol. though, this is a stand-alone fic!)

༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘

You lie naked on your abdomen over his white sheets, lowered on your elbows, face down and ass in the air while Sunwoo fucks you from behind.

You’re entranced by the intoxicating feeling of your best friend’s thick cock thrusting in and out of your wet cunt. His hips are ramming against your ass rhythmically, causing your body to bounce right back against him at the animalistic act.

His finger nails gripped your hips and buttocks as he fucked you relentlessly, so hard that you’d be left with bruises and crescent shaped marks over your flesh.

A pillow pressed against your face muffles the whimpers and moans leaving your throat. Sunwoo tsks at your suppressed sounds and doesn’t hesitate in grabbing a fistful of your hair into a makeshift ponytail, yanking your head away from what’s shielding your noises and pulling your head upwards.

Immediately forced to now be on all fours, your fingers gripped his sheets while you yelp in a mixture of pain and pleasure at his harsh hold and cock navigating your tight walls.

“Come on, let me hear you, doll,” Sunwoo grunts as he continues to move his length in and out of you.

He now hears you panting clearly and a smirk plasters over his face listening to your fucked out breathing in response to his cock bringing you stimulation.

“Is girly gettin’ her brains fucked out so good that she can’t catch a breath?” Sunwoo lifts a hand to grab the flesh of your ass cheek, massaging the skin before he gives it a harsh slap.

“Ahhh fuck— Sunwoo!” your head snapped back at the stinging his hand left, yelling in response to his roughness.

He chuckles smugly at your reaction, and continues to ram into you.

“Would’ve never guessed you liked it rough for such a cute, sweet girl.”

“Should’ve known when you basically begged me to use you like a rag doll after one month into meeting me.”

You felt that you have completely lost all your senses from the overwhelming sensation of warmth and fullness from Sunwoo’s cock.

You’re insanely horny, starting to pound back shamelessly to fuck as much of him as you can, feeling his cock so hard that it hurts so good.

“Greedy girl, huh?” his hands move around your hips while his own slam into you harder, his sweaty balls clapping ferociously against your cunt.

More filthy noises ranging from high to low escaped your mouth as you were on cloud nine.

You were so overwhelmed in stimulation from fucking.

The lewd sounds of you guy’s intense breathing and moaning, the wetness of your sex, and the sound of the bed creaking.

Your body being shaken and boobs bouncing from his hips plunging against your ass.

His hot cock pounding your warm pussy and tight walls, providing pleasurable friction.

Pure euphoria.

Your cunt’s walls squeezed around Sunwoo’s length once he starts hitting the jackpot that is your g-spot, eliciting a groan from his throat at the vibrations sent straight to his cock as a result of your clenching.

“Getting ready to cum? Let it all out, doll. Show me how much you enjoy being fucked dumb,” he grunts out, movements continuing frenetically.

“Oh— fuck!” You hiss at the familiar feeling of a coil in the pit of your stomach making an appearance. So fucking tight.

The penetration angle starts to become so intense that your pussy is ready to soak his cock in your cum.

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape as you cry out, seeing stars while quivering.

Your heart rate increases, ears are ringing, and legs shake as you let go, coating his cock in your cum and juices.

You groan and groan again at your release, completely letting yourself fall face into the pillow you were over earlier.

“That’s right doll, s’ good.” Sunwoo praises, hands still holding your hips as he chases his own release for a couple seconds more, listening to your muffled whines in overstimulation.

You feel his dick pulsate and twitch before he pulls out, hissing at his warm cock leaving your walls.

You unfortunately can’t see him, since you’re faced down on the pillow all fucked out as he starts to jerk himself off at a fast pace.

He grunts lowly, jaw slack and muscles clenching while spewing his hot ropes of cum across your ass.

“Fuuuuck,” his voice trembles in feeling the wave of tingly pressure within each pump and in seeing the whitish fluid coating your butt cheeks.

You were infatuated with the way he fucks you from behind. The roughness of it all, and how you have become his prey.

Although Sunwoo never cummed inside of you (he says it’s because that would be too intimate) you enjoy feeling his semen paint your skin after every fuck, finding it submitting and erotic.

Sunwoo likes to fuck you from behind and as he pleases because he’s using you to release his frustrations as a college student athlete.

You let him use you like a rag doll because you have an attraction to him— of which, he knows about.

And it’s starting to become harder to ignore when you look like you want to pour your heart out to him when you two talk and after every sexual encounter, when he just wants to have casual sex.

He likes fucking you from behind because he rather not see that dreamy look in your eyes as you guys have sex, or he might end up getting too caught up past what it is.

And Lord knows he can’t do that.

He stumbles over from his own fucked out daze, parking his rear on the bed right in front of you.

You two take a minute to regulate your breaths and bodies, shivers and spasms flooding the each of you as you recover from intercourse.

You crane your head to look back at Sunwoo. Wisps of his black hair are fallen over his forehead, sticking to his skin in sweat from the adrenaline and physical activity.

He meets your gaze for a brief moment with a lopsided grin. He then shifts his eyes over to your ass milked in his cum.

Your eyes follow his gaze and you slightly move, feeling the soreness of your cunt and the juices that are slipping out, definitely staining his sheets.

His weight on the mattress disappears as he gets up, walking away for a moment to find a towel in his bathroom.

He comes back swiftly, goosebumps dancing across your body once the towel in his hands makes contact with your skin.

He gently begins cleaning you up, wiping off his cum from your butt cheeks and cleaning up your own mess from your cunt.

You hum as he wipes the body fluids off, the scent of your natural pheromones and sweat filling your nostrils.

Sunwoo chuckles seeing the flesh of your ass move at him rubbing the towel against your skin. He doesn’t hesitate to playfully slap the cheeks, resulting in you gasping and then wincing at the sensitivity.

Your teeth catch your bottom lip as you bite back a smile. It doesn’t end up reaching your face as it falters instead, watching him walk over to his nightstand to pick up his phone to check the time instead of laying next to you with you in his embrace.

And that’s when the post-nut clarity crashes all down on you.

“I gotta wash up before the game.” a hand of Sunwoo’s goes to scratch the back of his head, eyes evidently avoiding your gaze.

You simply nod and purse your lips, feeling the awkwardness you two normally shared post-sex.

He walks around his room and rummages through drawers to find fresh clothes for his shower. You simply watch as he does so, loneliness and shame beginning to creep up over your mind.

His body suddenly makes way towards you, and you perk up, thinking he’ll finally kiss you— a forehead kiss you at least hope, only to weakly smile when his hand reaches on the top of your head, ruffling your hair messily.

“Thanks, doll.” he whispers softly. His hand falls to his side and he wets his plump lips with his tongue.

Your eyes fall onto said lips, secretly longing for them to sync with yours. You crave that affection from him sometimes, past the rough sex you two have.

How foolish of you to think he’d give you more.

Sunwoo purses his lips as he sees your eyes observe them. His body shifts uncomfortably, feeling awkward from the atmosphere.

He sighs lightly as he begins to trudge towards his bathroom, stopping once he reaches the doorway to turn and look at you.

“You coming to the game tonight?” he questions with a nod.

“Yeah, i’m going with the girls as per usual.” you tilt your head and propped your elbow up to rest your chin on the palm of your hand as you peer at him.

“Cool.” he sheepishly smiles. “You can grab something from the kitchen if you’d like, as always. I’ll see you later, y/n.”

And with that, he fully enters the bathroom and shuts the door.

Sunwoo quietly blows out air as he shuts himself in the bathroom, lids closing as he begins to feel like an asshole.

It’s heavily apparent that you want more from him, but he simply couldn’t offer you that. It wasn’t part of your agreement in this friends with benefits relationship.

He was the star soccer player. Notorious for breaking hearts as he prioritized the sport above meaningful relationships.

He didn’t think he was capable of balancing a relationship right now. It wasn’t in his cards. He was selfish and thought with his dick.

He also wanted to focus on being a good player while balancing school and maintaining his popularity.

Sex was an outlet for him. It made sense to just have casual flings and not put any meaning to it aside from fulfilling his sexual desires.

So when you approached him with the idea of doing anything to relieve his frustrations one night after a shitty game, who was he to refuse?

You two fucked hard when Sunwoo needed you. He fucked your throat and your cunt well after every encounter.

His only rules were no kissing, he won’t cum inside you, and your relationship remain a secret to anyone and everyone. It was plainly no strings attached.

He didn’t want to be held responsible for your heart if you two fall.

But as time went on, deep down, he knows he’s tearing you apart.

And you allow him to do so.

You swallow hard as he closed the door. Your body still lies naked on his bed, having no desire to get up.

Your face falls into your hands, sighing in frustration at the position you’ve put yourself in.

Unfortunately though, what sucks is that you rather have him like this than nothing at all.

There’s a power imbalance inherent in this with you on the downside, because of your stupid feelings.

You wanted Sunwoo so bad.

For his flirty personality and natural charm. For his respectful manners even though he fucks you like a whore. For his passion when he’s playing his heart out on the field. For his relaxed attitude towards others and life. For how he gets easily scared at the slightest of noises and things, of which, makes you laugh.

Your heart has caught up to you and it’s fucking you up.

You realized you don’t want to have sex as friends no more.

༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘ ༻༺❘

[jensettermandu]

makes her wanna have more babies - jennie kim

genre; smut

pairing; jennie x g!p reader

content; oral (giving and receiving), slight overstimulation (?), p in v :D (idk if i missed anything)

words; 4k

masterlist

You walked into the bedroom after all the kids finally went to bed. "The door, baby." Jennie reminded you and you looked up from your phone, smiling as you knew what that meant. You both learned to lock the door after the kids walked in multiple times when they shouldn't, it happened that you two would still forget sometimes. Making sure to lock the door, you made it to bed after turning off the lamp too as the small bedside lamp was enough.

Discarding your shirt before you even made it to the bed as Jennie giggled at your eagerness, biting her lower lip as you got on top of the bed. Grabbing her legs and pulling her to you with a single and quick pull.

"I love you." She mumbled out, gazing her eyes over your face as you run your palm along her bare leg since she didn't have more than lingerie on, laying under you. Running your hand along her smooth skin while leaning into her lips. "I love you just as much." You said back before closing the gap once your hand made it to her hip, her legs wrapped around your thighs and she pulled you closer to her that way.

Your tongue licked across her soft lips and she parted them in an instant, letting your tongue meet her wet and warm mouth. Her mouth always did wonders especially when she wanted to suck you dry. Her fingers tangled in your hair and she pulled you even closer, using your free hand you cupped her breast, feeling her hardened nipple right through the lace bra.

Jennie hummed and you pulled away from her lips, kissing down her jaw and leaving a wet trail of kisses on her soft and warm skin to her neck, giving her goosebumps. You could do this blindfolded, knowing everything she liked and every sensitive spot on her body, what made her whimper, shiver, moan or scream in pleasure. Thankful for the soundproof walls as she could be loud.

A soft moan left her mouth that was soothing to your ears when you sucked on her pulse point right under her jaw. Continuing to leave kisses on her neck, gripping onto her hip a bit harder and lifting her bottom, making her arch her back and press against your already hard dick. Just that sent you through a wave of pleasure and made her let out yet another moan right into your ear. You chuckled knowing that she did it on purpose, feeling how her chest pressed against you as her breathing was heavy.

Jennie removed her fingers from your hair and grabbed hold of your hands, bucking her hips up and pushing you over to your back as she straddled you.

You felt how your dick twitched in your sweats as you looked at her reaching for the hair tie that lay on her nightstand. Biting your lower lip as you watched her put up her hair in a messy ponytail, missing a few strands which made her look like a sex symbol. Already knowing what she wanted by putting her hair up, you were about to sit up but she pushed you back down with one hand.

"Back or front baby?" She asked you and you groaned, letting your head fall down on the pillow, licking your lips with a small smile.

"Back." You said and she switched her position so her back was facing you as she sat higher up on your torso so she would be able to lean down to your crotch with ease. Caressing her thighs as she pulled your sweats down and your boxers, stopping as they were mid-thigh.

Your grip on her smooth and warm thighs tightened when she held your base with one hand, the other hand grabbing hold of your tip. Letting out a shaky breath as she moved her hand, spreading the precum that was oozing out of you with every downward stroke she did. Your head fell back once again when Jennie's warm spit landed on your tip, using both her hands to lube your hard cock.

Preparing to get your soul sucked right out of you by Jennie. Your hands travelled up her thighs and to her barely covered ass, wearing white lace cheekies knowing what colours you like the most on her. Just as your hands made it to her ass, she lifted it as she leaned down.

Her ass rose from your chest as you held onto it, squeezing it when you felt her lips wrap around your sensitive and bulbous tip. Your mouth was agape as she swirled her tongue around the tip before bobbing her head, taking a few inches at the time. Getting a view of her chest every time she went down through the space between her thighs although your eyes went back to her ass that was in the air.

"Fuck baby, you're too good." You praised as your fingers played with the lace material of her underwear, tugging on it each time you got further into her wet and warm mouth. Your hands caressing and kneading her round ass to occupy your hands with something as you were losing your mind, forgetting that Jennie probably had a lot more in store for you as usual.

Your toes curled as she moved back up to your tip, only imagining how her cheeks hollowed from the suction. She swirled her tongue around the tip once again while letting go of your thigh with one hand to grab your balls. A moan elicited from the back of your throat as she started kneading them and she went back down, taking as much as she could into her mouth before sucking back up.

You hummed as she did it another time before stopping at your tip once again, making you buck your hips up slightly as your thighs flexed from how she was sucking and licking just your tip at the moment. Distracting you fully with how she swirled her tongue around the sensitive and swollen head.

Another louder and deeper moan left your mouth while a shameless moan left her, enjoying it just as much as you were enjoying her. With one smooth and fluid motion, her throat muscles loosened up, before tightening again around your tip as her lips were around your base. You felt light-headed as she had you deep in her throat. Her moan sent vibrations through your length as her throat squeezed your head so tight that she had it in a chokehold. Releasing your head from her throat as she moved back up, bobbing her head slightly, continuing to knead and squeeze your balls in her hand.

You swallowed as your throat went dry from what was happening, tugging slightly at her underwear only to grip her ass for dear life when she once again moved all the way down to your base with another moan coming from her.

Her throat squeezed your head again "Fuck me dead." You exclaimed and she only hummed, moving back up with such hard suction that your thighs were shaking. "I'm gonna-." You didn't get to finish your sentence as Jennie had discarded your voice completely as she took you deep into her throat again, this time squeezing your balls that grew firmer in her hand.

You knew that you were about to cum, your mind going blank as there was no way for you to even tell her that you were going to cum when she sucked back up with such hard suction that it almost hurt and the first rope shot right into her throat when she gave another firm squeeze to your balls. Jennie managed to swallow the first spurt of cum that shot into her throat, ignoring how her eyes got watery.

She kept sucking as rope after rope shot into her mouth, sinful sounds occupying the room, doing her best to swallow everything. Her hand kept playing with your balls, wanting every drop of cum you had, in her mouth.

"Fuck, J-Jennie baby." You weakly let out, trying to grab her attention while whimpering when she swirled her tongue around your now even more sensitive tip as your dick went soft. Your tip twitched in her mouth and released whatever cum it had left to give her.

"I'm dry...mercy." You let out not knowing what to do anymore as your body went into shock and she finally released your dick from her mouth. Your dick was completely soft and slick from her spit. Jennie got off you after fixing your sweats, feeling her underwear stick to her from how wet she was, the wetness running down her inner thighs. You lay on your back, trying to get out of the daze and collect yourself.

She laid her upper body on top of you as she looked at you while removing the hair tie in her hair before throwing it to the side. "Fuck, I love it when you give head." You sighed and she hummed, running her fingers over your collarbone as she looked at you.

"I love doing it, but baby, I am so wet that it's ruining the bedsheets." She informed you while tracing random patterns on your shoulder, finally getting eye contact with you. Her words sent shocks through your body and you caressed her lower back, wondering what she wanted you to do after she had sucked you dry, leaving your dick limp.

Jennie bit her lower lip and grabbed the forearm of the hand that was caressing her back, letting her guide it as she raised her hips slightly, moving to grab your wrist, guiding you under her stomach and going further down. Snaking your fingers under the lace piece of underwear, she still held onto your wrist and let out a shaky breath when your fingers ran through her folds, your fingers teasing around her entrance. Running them back up and barely touching her clit although that little touch was enough for her to whimper and tighten her grip on your wrist.

You pulled your hand out from under her as she continued to guide your hand, looking at your fingers that were coated in the slick juices that were leaking out of her needy pussy. Guiding your fingers up to her mouth and taking the two fingers coated in her wetness into her mouth while you just watched.

She hummed, licking your fingers clean by swirling her tongue all around them before pulling away while sucking. "Do you want a taste or do I need to play with myself?" She asked after letting go of your wrist, her thighs rubbing together as she couldn't wait that much longer.

Your hands came to her waist, holding onto it and pushing her to the side, making her land on her back. Going on top of her your lips instantly landed on hers as she kissed back with her hands back in your hair. Her head tilted back as you pulled on her bottom lip before letting it go smiling a little, feeling how she was squirming under you from the lack of attention where she wanted you. Letting her push your head down as you left a trail of kisses down her body, stopping at her cleavage and running your hand along her curves and under her as she arched her back for you.

Fumbling with the clasp as you continued to leave kisses and licks at her cleavage, giving her goosebumps while Jennie let out keen sounds of desperation. Getting the bra undone, you pulled your face away from her chest and pulled the lace material off her shoulders, throwing it to the floor.

You took her breast in your left hand, kneading her soft breast and making her hips buck up when your fingers played with her hard nipple while kissing down her stomach.

A sigh left her mouth when you used your free hand to slowly take off the last piece of lace on her. The material stuck to her as it was drenched and ruined from her wetness. Getting them off and letting them fall to the floor too as she bent her right knee, grabbing hold of her thigh and making her put her leg over your shoulder as your head went between her thighs in an instant.

Wrapping your arm around her thigh off the leg that was on your shoulder, still playing with her breast. A moan came from her mouth, your chin already wet as you licked up her slick folds before pressing your tongue against her sensitive clit. Trying to hold her still as her hips bucked up at the contact.

Jennie grasped onto your hand that was on her breast, the other gripping onto the cover of the pillow she was resting her head on when you wrapped your lips around her clit.

"Fuck, oh fuck." Jennie moaned before letting out a long hum as she moved her hips to grind against your face when you used your tongue instead. Trying to latch all of the juices that were flowing out of her, licking back up to her clit and using the tip of your tongue to flick it and lick it in ways that made her let out moans and squirms.

Pulling her more into your face by her leg as you flicked your tongue up and down with as much pressure as you could. Her nails dug into your hand as you continued, caressing her thigh slightly when she squeezed your head with them.

"God, that feels so fucking good." She praised with her voice going up an octave as moan after moan came from her mouth some louder than the other, gripping for her life onto the pillow and her nails going deeper into your forearm when you nipped her nipple with your fingers.

Your mouth was covered in her juices that weren't stopping, dripping down your chin as you rested your head against her thigh for a bit, your neck was starting to hurt while continuing to use your tongue on her.

You managed to retreat your hand from her grip and lifted her other leg as she put it on your shoulder. Wrapping both her legs around your head and you wrapped your lips around her clit again. Pulling on it a little with your lips before sucking with enough suction for her to arch her back, her thighs squeezing your head so every one of her moans got muffled as she was crying out moans now.

Her hand went to your head instead as she tugged on your hair, totally abusing every body part of yours her hands landed on from pleasure, not minding it as you found it hot. Jennie's legs shook and wrapped even harder around you as you used your sore tongue to flick at her clit again so she would climax.

Even if everything was muffled because of her thighs crushing your skull, this moan was so loud that it was barely muffled. Pulling on your hair now, making you groan, but still continuing as another moan came from her right after the first one. Her orgasm peaked but you didn't stop and the orgasm went through her whole body as you refused to stop abusing her clit with your tongue, not until she would tell you.

Her ears ringing, tears escaping her eyes, her vision going black and her body tensing up while her legs were. Whatever she tried to say wasn't possible as it all came out as moans- your wife in a daze- until she was gasping for air. Her body jerked when you didn't stop, making her let out a cry. "It's too much." She let out as you gave her clit kitten licks although those were enough to send shocks through her body.

"Stop or I will strangle you with my thighs." She managed to squeak out, you wouldn't mind dying between her thighs but at the same time, you wanted to grow old with this woman and still had many years left that you wanted to spend showing how much you love her.

You flicked her clit hard one last time and she let out a curse as you quickly pulled away before she could use her thighs. Grabbing your shirt that was on the bed and wiping your face with it before looking at Jennie who was catching her breath. Throwing the shirt to the side, you went to Jennie, placing your hands beside her head and leaning down to kiss her. She pushed your face away from her instead.

"You can't do that." She said talking about how you didn't stop and held you by your shoulders so you wouldn't lean down to her.

Her chest rose and fell slowly, licking your lips as you gaze your eyes over her beautiful face, looking like she has been eaten good. "Why not?" You asked and she ran her hands from your shoulders to hold your nape, pulling you down to her.

"Because it makes me want to have more babies with you." Jennie replied with a smile and you smiled back before attaching your lips together into a slow kiss. Pecking her lips before fully pulling away and getting off her to take your sweats off.

"Are you on any type of birth control?" You curiously asked and she hummed at your question as a yes before letting out a small gasp.

"No, never mind, I forgot to take the pill today." She groaned out and reached into her nightstand. You watched her as she closed the drawer of her nightstand and opened yours instead, another groan leaving her mouth as she slumped back.

"Either you pull out or buy me a plan B tomorrow morning or...no sex since there are no condoms left." She explained while pulling you so you would get on top of her, knowing very well that the third option wasn't really an option. Not like you would go with it either.

You hummed as your warm bodies pressed against each other and you kissed down her jaw while she reached between you two. She took hold of your dick and guided it to her dripping wet hole, your dick twitching as you pushed your tip into her. Letting out a breath while she sighed, entering her grasping hole with ease. Jennie wrapped her arms around your back as you planted kisses on her neck, her warm walls were slippery and tight.

Groaning as her walls tightened around your throbbing cock, Jennie's nails dug into your back as you kept up with your thrusts. The slow strokes drove her insane, making her back arch and your cock penetrate even deeper. Letting your hand caress her side while propping yourself up with your left arm, caressing down to her hip and further down to her thigh, her knee slightly raised.

Her hips rolled and met your thrusts, removing your lips from her neck and looking at her, lips parted and eyes barely open, small moans leaving her mouth, you just loved looking at her whenever you made love to her, seeing how well she was getting fucked by you.

You attached your lips to her parted ones, slipping your tongue inside her mouth. Jennie's hands unwrapped from around your back and came around your nape instead to pull you closer to her. Pressing your tongue against hers and pushing deeper into her cunt that was needily clenching around you.

Moving your hand up from her thigh and grabbing hold of her wrist with your hand before grabbing the other one too. Pulling her arms away from you and pinning the above Jennie's head, lifting your upper body from hers since you were pressed right onto her. Biting your lip as you glanced down, looking at how you moved in and out of her drenched pussy, her breasts moving with each thrust, the sound of her slickness more prominent now.

"Fuck." Jennie moaned out, looking at how her head tilted back and chest rose up from her back arching when your tip rubbed against that soft and spongy spot, making you let out a moan too and slightly tighten your grip on her hands that you had intertwined with your right hand. Still moving at the same pace, you leaned down to her chest, taking her breast into your mouth and letting your tongue swirl around her nipple, playing with it, abusing her boobs with your mouth and covering them in your spit.

"Y/n, fuck...Fuck baby." She moaned out as her chest pressed more into your face as you continued to play with her nipple, sucking, licking and tugging on her perfect breasts. Jennie's hips rocked back and forth, rolling against yours and you could feel how your orgasm was building up.

You removed your mouth from her breast, letting go of her hand and moving to circle her clit instead, Jennie's walls clenched tightly around you, making your movements even slower from how tight she was, her sticky and wet walls not being able to help. Grasping onto your shoulders and bucking her hips as you played with the sensitive bud that was slick against your thumb.

"You feel so good around me." You moaned out, adding more pressure to her clit with your thumb, her walls pulsating around your throbbing cock that was ready to explode any second now. "Ahh, fuck!" She cried out, her thighs shaking and body tensing up as she reached her orgasm, nails deep in your shoulders, pulling you to her as she pressed against you.

Jennie jerked her hips away from you, making you stop rubbing her clit as she came down from her orgasm, sensitive again, her hands letting go of your shoulders and breathing heavily. With one last stroke into her, you pulled out just in time and while on your knees. You stroke yourself a few times before cum spurt out of your tip, rope after rope of hot cum landing on Jennie's stomach as you continue to stroke yourself.

Jennie watched you with her bottom lip between her teeth, just when you thought you were done, you opened your eyes to see the beautiful sexy mess that you made her and your dick twitched at the sight letting out another spurt of cum that landed on her thigh.

She giggled with a satisfied smile, seeing how she still had such an effect on you that just a look from her was enough to make you cum more than you thought you could.

You panted catching your breath and licking your dry lips before swallowing and looking at her covered in your cum, knowing how much she loved it. Leaning down and letting your hands fall beside her head, you pecked her lips before pulling away and getting off the bed.

"I will get you a towel." You informed her, wanting to take care of her like you always did, Jennie hummed as she laid on the bed, waiting for you. Putting on your boxers, you made it to the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom, getting one of the clean towels that were folded before also starting the shower so the water would get warm, knowing that she was going to shower. Walking back out to Jennie, you handed her the towel, watching her use it to wipe her stomach and thigh clean.

"I will clean up the mess and change the sheets while you shower." You said as she got up from the bed. "I love you." She said, pulling you down to peck your cheek. "I love you." You said back, kissing the top of her head as she thanked you before disappearing to the bathroom to shower while you cleaned up the mess.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

୨୧ Ｍｏｄｅｒｎ Ｌｏｖｅ ୨୧

୨୧ Pairing: criminal!boyfriend!mingyu x chubby!waitress!fem!reader

୨୧ Genre: crime au/a mix of fluff & angst/smut

୨୧ Summary: Your friends always told you that Kim Mingyu was trouble but when he shows up unexpectedly at your job, covered in bruises with a bag of stolen money, you see how much trouble he really can be.

୨୧ Word Count: 3.5kish

୨୧ Warnings: mention of blood/injuries, a gun that's not used but is in there, strong language, unprotected sex, a lil bit of rough sex, fingering, creampie, & that's all I'm pretty sure

୨୧ A/N: I haven't written in a bit and I really wanted to start writing something crime related so here we are 🖤

There’s a lot you’ve come to tolerate waitressing at the diner. Customers with shitty attitudes who leave even shittier tips. Line cooks who get every other order wrong only to blame you because you must have mixed their tickets up somehow. The thin layer of grease that lingers on your clothes, leaving the scent of day old fries to haunt you even after you’ve washed your uniform a thousand times. All of that you can tolerate but this, your boss screaming at you like some psychopath, never fails to make your blood boil.

It’s always something with him. This time it’s that you didn’t refill the ketchup last night before close even though you weren’t the one who closed. The waitress who closed, a soft spoken girl who only started a week ago, called in this morning to quit just like every other waitress before her. The only girls insane enough to stick around are you and Moon, the waitress who trained you and the only person you’ve ever seen go toe to toe with your boss. 

His screaming’s getting louder but you can’t even hear it. You zoned out ages ago. It’s like watching a TV on mute. If not for the growing redness of his face or the flinches of the passing food runners, you wouldn’t know a thing. Everyday you think about quitting. You lay in bed fantasizing about a life where you don’t have to put up with this to survive but in the end you always roll out of bed and show up.

What else are you supposed to do? You weren’t born into money and, luck never quite being on your side in life, it's not likely to just fall into your lap. So this is it. This. Is. It. Your stomach sinks as your boss steps closer, the veins in his hairy neck straining enough to pop a blood vessel. This can’t be it. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Moon shouts, pushing through the double doors behind you. The noise of the kitchen cuts back in at a dizzying speed. Dishes clanking, grease sizzling, water running, cooks calling out orders.

“You don’t talk to me that way!” your boss shouts back, dialing down his rage as he aims it at Moon. She pulls her dark hair back into a tight ponytail, cornering him against a rack of dirty dishes. “You don’t talk to her that way! The next time I hear you yelling at her I’ll report you to the health department for all of the little critters we have running around here or would you like me to tell the customers first?” He wants to say something to her but he can’t.

He knows she’s serious enough that she’d pop on a glove and go show off the bug traps to every customer packed into the questionably clean booths of the dining room. “Get back to work!” he snaps, “Both of you!” With that he storms off to his office mumbling every misogynistic thought in his pea brain. Moon turns to you, giving you a hug. You let out a sigh of relief, enjoying the comfort of her arms even though she smells like sandwiches. You do too. 

“I fucking hate him.” “Fucking hate him for sure” she agrees, “But I know something that’ll cheer you up.” “What could possibly make me feel better?” Moon grabs you by the shoulders and directs you to the small round window on the door, “Your boyfriend’s here. Looks a little beat up though. Wonder what he got into this time.” Before she can finish her sentence and launch into another lecture about your choice in men, you’re racing to the booth in the corner where Mingyu sits patiently waiting for you.

He spots you in an instant, jumping up to give you a hug and soothe the panic that paints your face. A little beat up is an understatement. He’s covered in cuts and bruises. A busted lip here. A bruised eye there. A bandaged cut on the side of his neck. His knuckles skinned and raw. Your hands don’t know where to go or what to inspect. They’re just frantically skimming his frame, dreading the next surprise. “What happened?”

Mingyu tries to downplay it, apprecating that you’re worried for him but still not wanting you to worry too much. “Baby, I’m okay. Calm down.” He’s lying and you both know it. Everytime something like this happens he tries to shrug it off, pretending that he doesn’t get hurt worse and worse each time he gets back from one of his "jobs". “How can I calm down? Look at you.” “Look at me? What does that mean? Don’t you think I’m pretty?” he teases, placing his hands on your cheeks. Even with his fingers all beat up and achy, he has the most gentle touch you’ve ever felt.

He smiles and all you can do is smile back. Of course you think he’s pretty, the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen, and you’re a sucker for him in the worst way. So much that you forget for a few fleeting seconds that there’s the lightest spot of blood seeping through the crisp white bandage on his neck. “Cute but I still need you to tell me what’s going on” you persist, glancing back to catch Moon watching over you as she works her tables.

Mingyu turns you back to look at him, the wildness in his deep brown eyes thrilling and frightening you all at once. 

“You trust me don’t you?” 

“Ming—” 

“Do you trust me?” 

“I mean, duh, of course I trust you but—” 

“Then quit” he says as if it’s nothing. As if this job isn’t the only thing paying for the hole in the wall apartment you rent up the street. “I can’t just quit. I need this job.” Mingyu presses his forehead to yours, bringing his arms around your waist to hold you closer. “Not anymore. I can take care of you now. I just really need you to trust me and come with me. We don’t have a lot of time.” 

It’s impossible to make sense of anything he’s saying when he’s being this vague. You have a million questions and no time to ask them. “Hey! Play with your boyfriend on your own time!” your boss shouts from across the counter, “Get back to these tables before I fire your ass!” Mingyu’s jaw clenches, his temper ready to erupt on your boss for daring to speak to you that way. “I got this” you whisper, rubbing his shoulders to cool him down. He’s already had enough action for one day. The last thing he needs is another scuffle.

Your boss goes on rambling but this time you don’t drown him out. You hear every word. Every disgusting, vile thing he can spew in your direction. The thought of dealing with this every single day is torture. Mingyu's way out, whatever it is, has to be better than this. Your friends might not agree, Moon would surely have you thrown in an asylum, but you have to trust Mingyu or risk this being the rest of your life.

Grabbing a pitcher of ice water from one of the tables, you calmly approach the counter and throw it in your boss’ face. “Oh my god” Moon gasps, covering her mouth to hide her amusement. “Do it yourself. I quit. Mingyu, let’s go.” You march out of the diner, ripping your apron and name tag off as your sneakers hit the dirt of the parking lot. Your palms are sweaty, your heart’s racing, and you have no idea what’s gotten into you but it feels good. “That was sick” Mingyu applauds, kissing your fluffy cheeks, “I didn’t know my girlfriend was such a badass.” “Shut up” you giggle as he guides you to his car, a vintage deathtrap that his father gifted to him.

Mingyu seats you on the passenger's side, picking up a heavy black duffle bag from the floor and plopping it onto your lap. You stare down at it, too afraid to even touch it. With Mingyu’s line of work anything could be in this bag. Not a body, of course, it’s much too small for that. But guns? Drugs? “Just open it” he says, starting the car. You’ve been so deep in your own thoughts, running through the possibilities of what’s in the bag, of what happened to his face, that you hadn’t even noticed him get into the car.

Noticing your hesitance, he reaches over and unzips the bag. “It won’t bite, honey” he promises, turning out of the parking lot and leaving you to take in the bundles of crinkled money packed into the bag. You carefully pick one out, fanning through it like a deck of cards. There’s more money here than you’ve ever seen. More than most people will ever see. 

“Whose money is this?” 

Mingyu shrugs, flicking on the radio, “Mmm, it’s ours.”

“You asked me to trust you now I need you to trust me. Just tell me what’s going on.”

Mingyu made a promise to himself when you first started dating that he’d keep the other side of him hidden. He loves the way that you see him. You see him as his most ideal self. As the man he wishes he could be all of the time and not who he has to become when you aren’t together. But you were bound to find out one day and if today has to be that day then so be it. “You know how I do drop offs for the mob?” You nod, your fingers still petting the edges of the money like one would a new puppy or a luxurious fur coat.

“I do pickups too. Retrivals I guess. If people owe money and they don’t pay up it’s my job to go get it even if it means I have to hurt them...” He trails off, fearful of your reaction, but you only listen attentively, free of judgment. “Earlier I had one of those pickups” he continues, “Things got kind of crazy. A lot of people got hurt.” He flexes his hand, wincing at the pain. “Including me but, you know, at least I’m alive. The other guy...anyway. I was supposed to take the money back but I didn’t. I kept it for us.”

You insantly regret ever pressing him for this information. Maybe ignorance truly is bliss and you've just given it up. “So you killed someone?” “I kinda had to.” “Right. You kinda had to kill someone and stole a bunch of mob money now we’re—we’re on the run aren’t we?” Mingyu nods, chewing on the inside of his lip, “We are.” “Oh, fun. I’m dead. We’re dead. They’re gonna chop our heads off.” “No one’s chopping your head off! They don’t even do that anymore. It’s more of a burning the whole body thing. Buried alive usually.”

“Not helping!”

“I’m sorry!”

Mingyu tosses the bag into the backseat, freeing your lap up for his hand to massage your thigh. Your legs are shaky, every part of you is, and no amount of massaging can stop it. “This is a lot. It’s so fucking much. I can’t even…” Leaning your head back against the headrest, you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. “I never meant to put you in danger” he says softly, “We spend so many nights talking about the life we want. A better life. You deserve it and I just want to give you that so when I saw the opportunity I took it. If it means anything, I’d die before I let anyone hurt you. I’ll protect you with my life.”

You open your eyes to catch him staring at you, his attention only half on the road where it should be. He means every word he says, no matter how fucked up his methods are. A part of you can’t stand him for what he’s done and you can't stand yourself for how small that part of you is. In a matter of minutes he managed to destroy the life you knew. A life you’ve been longing to destroy yourself for far too long but never had the courage to. You can’t hate him for that. In fact, in some strange, twisted way you've never loved him more.

You look so peaceful when you’re sleeping. The two of you had plans to go out for dinner after you hopped out of the shower but hours of driving in no particular direction had exhausted you. The moment you sat down on the bed of the floral wallpapered motel room you were out like a light. Mingyu can’t bring himself to wake you up. You deserve the rest, he figures, after all he sprung onto you.

He has no real idea where you are. Your cellphones were tossed off a bridge two towns ago and every road sign in whatever nowhere town you stopped in is too faded too read. There’s no way anyone will find you here when you can’t even find yourselves. Even still, Mingyu finds himself pacing the floor in the darkness of the motel room, a handgun held tightly in his right hand. Paranoia weighing heavy on him, he wishes that he could fall asleep but every time he relaxes in the slightest another set of headlights beam through the curtains and he’s on his feet again.

What if someone followed you? What if they spotted his car? He truly would protect you with his life. But what if he failed? “Idiot” he huffs, hitting himself on the side of the head. “Hey, I’d appreciate you not hitting my boyfriend. Thank you very much” you yawn, stretching out, your eyes only cracked enough to make out his fuzzy silhouette. You snuggle up to his side of the bed, the blanket quite cozy against your bare skin for something that's for sure been here since the 90’s. You try not to think about it, your focus quickly shifting to the gun in Mingyu’s hand.

“When’d you get a...” you start but abandon your question. When’d he get a gun? That’s silly to ask. Of course he has a gun, probably a few. Why wouldn’t he? “Put that thing away and come to bed.” “You worry too much. I’m good. You rest.” Outstretching your arms, you pout and kick your feet knowing that he's a softie for your tantrums. “Five minutes. That’s it. Please” you whine and he’s already dragging himself over to the bed, reluctantly tucking his gun into the bedside table.

By now the haze of sleep has fallen away, offering you a clear view of the gorgeous man hovering above you. “Stop looking at me like that” he blushes, his fingertips dancing along your jaw. It sends sparks through your system, stealing your breath away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mingyu leans down to kiss you, his hand slipping beneath the blanket to ride the curves of your body. “You don’t?” he asks, nibbling at your bottom lip. He presses a thumb into the tender flesh of your thigh, feeling your body tremble the way you did in the car.

Only now it’s not because you’re scared. Fear is the furthest thing from your mind. It’s because you’re craving some relief, craving him, badly enough that the faintest brush of his thumb over your clit has you snatching him on top of you. Your tongue’s down his throat, legs thrown around his waist, hips raised to feel the bulge fighting to free itself from the confines of his jeans. Nothing gets Mingyu hotter than when you’re like this, clawing his clothes off as his fingers delight in the velvet warmth between the lips of your pussy. “Ming—” you gasp at how effortlessly his fingers glide into you. Your walls flutter in excitement as if to welcome him home and he couldn’t be happier to be back.

“You’re dripping, baby” he coos, pulling out just enough to glimpse your juices coating his fingers. You reach between you, finally feeling the heat of his cock in your palm, and stroke his length, collecting pearls of his arousal each time you run over the tip. “So are you” you tease, grinning at the way his hips stutter. With one arm holding himself up and the other busy between your legs, his muscles flex in a certain way that makes your mouth water. In your eyes his body’s a work of art and the feeling couldn’t be more mutual.

Your body’s so soft, so sensual, that he’s dying to be inside of you just to see the way your body jiggles each time he thrusts into you. Your muscles tighten, the ecstasy coursing through your veins making you feel lightheaded. “Make love to me” you say in the sweetest voice, not begging nor demanding, simply confessing how much you need him. Mingyu twitches in your hand, his heart skipping more than a few beats. Without a word, his hands are gripping your plush hips as he guides himself to your entrance.

He takes his time, rubbing the tip in the wetness escaping your core, bumping it against your clit to make you quiver. You rub his biceps, nails digging into his arms, giving him such a rush that he can’t tease you any longer. He delves into your core, feeding his length into you gradually until every inch of him fills you. “So beautiful” he whispers, kissing between your breasts as he strokes in and out of you. His tongue traces the contours of your breast, flicking at your nipple before his lips wrap around it. Nibbling, suckling, all while watching the faces you make when he hits that sensitive spot.

He’s throbbing inside of you, so tight against your walls that you swear you can feel the blood rushing through those pretty veins that run up his cock. It’s sweet of him starting out slow but you want more. You press down onto him, using the minimal space between your bodies to ride him, picking up the pace. Mingyu gets the hint, rising to his knees as he presses yours to your chest. “You said make love to you” he says, his hands tucked behind your knees, “If you wanted me to fuck you, you should’ve just said so.”

He kisses you ravenously, like he wants to consume you entirely, wasting no time pulling back to bounce you on his cock, his hips moving faster with each thrust. Mingyu palms the softest part of your stomach, caressing it as his other hand reaches up to cup your cheek. His thumb runs across your bottom lip, feeling your breath as you cry out his name. “Mingyu—ah—yes—fuck. Harder!” you scream and this time you are begging.

Never being a man to deny you what you want, he obeys. Harder, faster, impossibly deeper, until you feel him in every part of you. Holding onto his wrists, you surrender, letting yourself get lost in him. So lost that you’re caught off guard by the sudden explosion of the pressure that's been building inside of you. Your lids barely fall shut before they’re shooting back open, your body quivering as your orgasm barrels down on you. Mingyu’s hypnotized by the sight of you, addicted to the way you gush and clench around him.

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me. So pretty when you cum for me, aren’t you? So so pretty. Mmm—.” He wants to hold back, to at least try, but it’s no use. How can he hold back anything with you? It only takes one more pulse of your walls for him to come undone, barely able to maintain his thrusts as he spills into you. You’d feel this forever if you could. The warmth and the fullness. You’re so greedy for it, taking every drop until he’s collapsed beside you trying to come back down to earth.

Using the last bit of energy in your body, you lay your head on his chest, tossing the blanket over the two of you. “Tomorrow you’ll teach me how to shoot?” Mingyu wraps an arm around you, gently petting your hair. “You? With a gun? No way.” You nod, intimidated but confident in your decision, “We’re in this together now aren’t we? It’s not just about you protecting me. I wanna protect you too. So teach me.”

His instinct is to tell you no, that he can protect both of you on his own, but he knows it’s not fair. He’s the one who drug you into this, the least he can do is show you how to defend yourself.

“I’ll teach you. Tomorrow,” he relents, “But tonight it’s back to sleep, okay?”

"Only if you promise to stay here with me.”

“Always.”

Silence falls across the room and, as you drift back off to sleep, you know there’s so much more to that “always”. “Always” doesn’t just mean tonight or tomorrow. It’s more than next week or next year. It stretches far beyond whatever hell might lie before you. It means forever. It means that Mingyu would go to the ends of the earth for you. And there’s no way you won’t be by his side when he does. 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Rival

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You wander off after a match

You're incredibly bored as the last minutes of the Not-Wolfsburg and Also-Not-Wolfsburg match continues.

You huff and bounce up and down. You're standing up on your special assistant coach seat on the bench, bouncing up and down to try get the wiggles out of your body.

Your Morsa and Momma are both on the pitch and you no longer want to play with your girl-swan so you just bounce.

The other girls on the bench like Jessie and Guro try to entertain you but you're having none of it. The moment the final whistle goes, you've leapt from your seat and are already running onto the pitch.

Momma catches you halfway there, scooping you up into her arms and peppering kisses to your cheek.

You giggle and shriek with joy as Morsa joins the two of you, flicking the end of your braid. You reach behind her and tug on her ponytail. She laughs with you.

"Did you have fun, princesse?" Morsa teases," Do you like watching the Chelsea matches?"

"Was fun," You say," But prefer Wolfsburg."

The look on your Morsa's face sets you off in a fresh wave of giggles as Momma laughs too, bouncing you up and down.

"The princesse has spoken." Momma says as she kisses the distraught look off of Morsa's face.

Morsa plucks you from Momma's arms and turns to walk off towards the fans. "I'll get her eventually. Just you wait."

You don't think she will but Momma says that you can't crush Morsa's dreams so you didn't tell her that. You let her cart you off to the fans, placing you down on the ground so she can have her hands free to sign things.

At some point, Jessie has passed you girl-swan so you press your face into the plush fabric as you wait for Morsa to finish. Momma's a bit further away, talking to a group of people with cameras.

The wiggly feeling from earlier is back but this time, bouncing doesn't stop it. You peer up at Morsa, who's still signing things and then back to the tunnel. You look up at her again.

Momma is still talking to the camera people.

You peel off from Morsa and wander towards the tunnel. Usually, you have to take a right at the big room but you turn left this time. You're not allowed to when Momma and Morsa walk with you but they're not with you so you think you're allowed.

Disappointingly, it's not much different to the Not-Wolfsburg side. It's still a long corridor that's slightly cold with even colder flooring - not at all like the warm carpet of your house with Morsa and Momma.

But still, you keep walking.

There's a door at the end of the corridor like the one that the other Not-Wolfsburg girls go into to get changed. Your hand reaches the handle. You're about to open it but it swings open by its own accord.

You blink.

A girl blinks back at you.

She's dressed in the red Also-Not-Wolfsburg jersey. Her mouth falls open slowly.

"Er...Hi?" She's got an accent you've not heard before. She doesn't sound look you or Morsa or Momma but she also doesn't sound like Millie or Fran and certainly not like Jessie.

She's also a stranger so you're a bit wary because Morsa says you should be but you're also polite because Momma says that's good.

"Hi."

Her head fully pokes out the doorway and a frown appears on her face when she sees nobody else but you. A flash of worry crosses her face and she takes your hand, ushering you inside.

To your disappoint, the Also-Not-Wolfsburg locker room is the same as the Not-Wolfsburg locker room.

But everybody inside is staring at you in shock.

A particularly tall girl looks so incredibly worried that you wonder if she's going to start screaming. "Katie, mate," She says," Have you kidnapped a kid?!"

The girl holding your hand, who must be Katie, shakes her head frantically. "She appeared out of nowhere! There were no parents!"

"She must be lost," The other girl says," We need to get her to security before Kim comes back and gives us a bollocking."

Katie takes you to what you assume is her cubby. She places you on the seat and turns back to the girl who has 'Williamson' on her jersey.

Another girl approaches you with a juicebox. "Hey, kiddo," She says, her voice pitched low and soothing like she thinks you're going to start crying at her. "Do you want a drink?"

You want to take it. "My Morsa says not to take drinks from strangers."

"Oh, well, I'm Beth and this is Daan." She indicated to the girl on the other side of you. "Now we're not strangers. What about you?"

"I'm y/n!" You love making new friends.

Beth and Daan smile at you.

"Do you want a drink?" Daan asks.

You nod and Daan stabs the straw for you and holds it up for you to drink. You're very thirsty from running onto the pitch earlier so you drink up.

Beth coos over you, pushing your flyaways out of your face. "Who's this?" She points at your toy.

"My girl-swan!" You exclaim, holding the toy up to show your new friends, who appropriately coo over it. "She likes kissing my girl-moose at home! They're in love! Like my Momma and Morsa!"

The Williamson girl from earlier (you think Beth calls her Leah) looks over at you. "You have two mummies?"

You frown. "No," You say it like she's stupid," I have Momma and Morsa!"

She nods at you but looks like you've just helped her out a bunch.

"Are you a big Chelsea fan?" Katie looks pointedly at your Not-Wolfsburg jersey.

Your crinkle appears in annoyance and your nose wrinkles. "Morsa says I have to wear it."

A round of laughter goes through the group.

"An Arsenal fan in the making!" Leah exclaims, "I knew I liked you, kid!"

You think you like Leah too. She looks pretty cool. Also-Not-Wolfsburg is not quite Wolfsburg but you think it's better than Not-Wolfsburg.

You smile at her and are rewarded with a high-five.

Jill, friend of Daan, comes to sit cross-legged in front of you. "Were you with your Momma or Morsa when you got lost, y/n?"

"Just Morsa," You reply. Beth gives you some crackers. They're not goldfish crackers but they're alright.

"And what happened to Morsa?" Jill continues.

"Dunno." You shrug. "Was busy?"

"She was busy?"

"Uh-huh!"

Katie says a bad word that Morsa always tells you not to repeat. "What kind of woman gets busy at a match and loses their kid?!"

"Irresponsible ones," Leah answers but you're still talking to Daan's friend Jill so you don't defend your Morsa.

"And did anyone see you alone?"

You shake your head and take a break from answering by guiding Daan's juicebox holding hand closer to you again so you can drink.

"We need to alert security," Leah whispers to Katie," The mums must be up in arms."

"Tell you what," Katie said," If my girl lost our kids, I'd give them a bollocking."

"Worse than the one we'll get from Kim if she finds the missing kid here?"

"Hell, yeah."

The door to the locker room opens just as your letting girl-swan put kisses on Beth and Jill's cheeks.

Two girls burst in and start talking. They sound like Erin does so you know they're from Scotland like her.

"Have any of you seen a kid? A little girl? Wearing a Chelsea jersey?" One of them asks in a hurry.

In sync, the Arsenal girls move so they're not blocking your body anymore.

"This one, Kim?"

Kim nods wordlessly as the other girl - who Daan calls Jen - heads out of the room again. "Where did you find her?"

"Katie kidnapped her," Jill says.

"I did not!" Katie's accent suddenly gets thicker as she defends herself.

Kim holds her hand up for silence and you spy the captain's armband she wears, like Morsa.

"Are security looking for her?" Beth asks as you take the last cracker from her hand.

Katie suddenly butts in again. "Yeah, can I have a word with her mum? Losing a kid in a stadium this big is grounds for getting a bollocking. Especially a kid this little."

Daan nods along but she's quite small so you're not sure she could do against Morsa.

"Unless you're looking to pick a fight with Harder and Eriksson, I don't think you giving them a 'bollocking' would end well for you, Katie."

"She's Magda and Pernille's kid?" Jill asks.

"Yeah," Kim says," Eriksson thinks she wandered off when she was busy signing stuff. Harder's been up in arms about finding her. They've got the whole Chelsea team looking. Erin caught me and Jen in the tunnel and asked to check if any of you have seen her."

"Well..." Leah says," Here she is...We've fed and watered her so I reckon Harder and Eriksson can look past her Katie led kidnap."

"For the last time, I didn't kidnap her!"

Jen appears in the doorway, pushing it open and allowing your Morsa and Momma to hurry inside.

They spot you inside and the Arsenal girls make space for them to rush to you. Momma bursts into tears instantly, just like when you wandered off and she found your with Caroline by the vending machine in Germany.

"Oh, princesse," Momma says," I was so worried. Are you okay?"

You don't really understand why she's crying but you nod. "Daan gave me a juicebox!" You exclaim," And Beth gave me crackers!"

"Thank you," Magda says to Kim," For finding her. I can't thank you enough."

"It's no problem," Kim replies," But really, it was Katie that found her. Brought her inside the locker room to make sure she didn't wander off anymore."

Magda tugs Katie into a tight hug, which clearly surprise her very much. "Thank you," She says as she pulls away," For keeping her safe."

"Er...yeah, no problem."

You appear at Morsa's side quickly, smiling as Momma holds your hand. "I like Arsenal," You tell her," Can I have an Arsenal jersey for the next match?"

The look of disbelief on you Morsa's face and the cry of triumph from the rest of the locker room remains imprinted in your memory even when you get put to bed tonight.

[bvidzsoo]

Compass of our hearts

Author: bvidzsoo

Warning: smut, violence, blood, murder

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x female reader

Word count: 20,7k

Summary: Park Seonghwa was an orphan. The day Captain Kim found him on the shore the only thing he had with himself in the little basket was a golden compass, his mother's name craved inside it. Seonghwa cherished it dearly and worked hard to find out where he belonged to. However, as a pirate, you make a lot of enemies and you decided to make Seonghwa yours the day you stole his compass. It was your first mistake, you messed with a feared pirate. Your second mistake was not realizing that Seonghwa would find you, and take his compass back as well. (Reader is called Kim Bora in the following oneshots.)

A/N: Helloo everyone, the first part of the Black Ocean series is here!! I hope the fight scenes aren't as bad as I personally think they are lol. I'm not a master smut writer either, but I tried my best, so I hope it's not horrible. If anyone wants to be added to the taglist just let me know, there will be seven more oneshots with the other members in this universe. Please leave feedback, reading your thoughts about my work is the best feeling ever. I hope you'll enjoy this little oneshot, happy reading!

Taglist: @pingyu-in-wonderland @marievllr-abg @lelaleleb @loveforred @horanghae8 @jeonghanscarat7 @orshii

Series Masterlist

               I was breathing hard as I tried to gain focus, having been thrown against the wall, again. It was starting to take a tool on me, the pointless tousling and teasing. I did not like fighting this way. I liked getting straight to the point, getting what I wanted. I never played around with my prey, but Seonghwa seemed to enjoy it as a wide smirk decorated his lips, his strides long and slow as he came closer, almost caging me against the wall. I huffed in irritation as he raised my chin with the tip of his very sharp knife, our eyes finding each other’s. Seonghwa was breathing hard too, lips parted and forehead sweaty as his long wavy black hair fell into his sharp eyes, his ponytail messy. His eyes held an intensity which was capable of making me surrender to him, but I stayed collected. Not this time, I wouldn’t give in. My lower left arm was burning from the huge gash Seonghwa’s knife made and I couldn’t ignore the blood dripping down his cheek where I had cut him just minutes ago.

“You could have made this so easy and quick for yourself, Y/N.” His voice dripped with venom and I gulped when his knife pressed harder against my skin, lightly grazing against my neck.

“I like to play around,” I muttered and forced out a chuckle, ignoring the quick pounding of my heart, “But you know that already.”

“Too well.” He snapped and I gasped when I felt blood trickling down the side of my neck, skin slightly burning. He really meant it this time that he’d kill me if I didn’t give back what was his. All of this fiasco for a damned compass. I glared at him and in a swift moment pressed my own dagger against his torso, ripping his shirt open and making it clear that if he were to slice my throat I wouldn’t hesitate in sticking my own weapon into him.

“How are you going to find the compass if you kill me, Seonghwa?” I taunted, mimicking his tone when he said my name. For a split second his eyes turned into slits and I was sure he would kill me right then and there, but the pressure of the knife from my neck disappeared and I felt the lump in my throat disappearing as well. It didn’t mean I was safe, it just meant I wasn’t getting my throat slit open. I lowered my dagger from his torso as well and tried to come up with an escape plan fast. The window was open, if I kicked him hard enough to get him to double over, I could run to the window and jump out. I knew where my sister’s friend lived, I would go there and take her with me. Going into hiding was a must right now.

“Where is it?!” Seonghwa’s voice slightly trembled from anger and I looked behind him, eyeing the window.

I shrugged before looking back at him, having decided what my next move would be, “I don’t know, want to play a game to find out?” And before he could answer, I punched him hard in the jaw, making him stumble backwards. He was flabbergasted as he looked back at me, wiping the blood from his lips, but before he could charge at me, I kneeled him in the stomach, hard. Seonghwa doubled over instantly and started wheezing, face contorted in pain. I didn’t necessarily liked hurting him and I found myself hesitating for a second before I snapped out of it and made a run for the window. The room wasn’t big, I could easily make it out and get away from Seonghwa. But I heard groaning from behind and as I latched onto the window sill, ready to jump over, a hand was suddenly in my long hair, fisting it. I was yanked back harshly and I yelped, eyebrows furrowing as Seonghwa held me flushed against his body, pulling on my hair so hard I thought he’d leave me with a bald spot. I went to fight back, but he grabbed my neck from behind with his left hand, but he didn’t squeeze. He secured me in a firm grip, warning me. I gulped and listened to our rapid breathing, Seonghwa’s chest rising and falling quickly against my back. His body hadn’t changed at all. He was still as sturdy as before, even felt like he had gotten stronger.

“Let me go.” I snapped and turned my head to the side, trying to look at him. Seonghwa watched my face for a second, taking it in, before he blinked and his gaze turned cold. I couldn’t pretend like the warmth of his body and the grip he had on me wasn’t affecting me, but my self-respect would never let me tell him. I had already admitted to thinking about him often back at the Inn.

“I prepared a little surprise for you,” Seonghwa whispered in my ear, my eyes fluttering for a second, before he harshly turned my head towards the window, making me watch what was happening outside. And my whole blood ran cold in me. I froze, almost unable to breathe. My little sister was walking outside, singing to herself as she played around with a pebble. The sight that terrified me wasn’t her being home despite her saying she’d spend the day at her friend, it was the man dressed in all black with a rag covering his lower face following her, knife held very obviously in one hand. Nari was oblivious to him and he was getting closer and closer to her.

“Stop!” My voice raised and I tried to wriggle myself free from Seonghwa’s grip. The man following my little sister, Nari, was Choi San, a ruthless mercenary. She stood no chance against him, I couldn’t stand here and watch as San kills my little sister, the only family I have left.

“Stop him,” I begged Seonghwa as I stopped trying to get away from him, “please tell him to stop. I will give you anything you want, Seonghwa, please don’t let him hurt Nari.” I knew now the two worked together. Seonghwa was the Quartermaster of a very infamous pirate crew whom had been terrorizing the four kingdoms and four seas for a decade now and everyone knew what they were capable of. Even I did now. I would’ve never thought Seonghwa was smart enough to find me as I barely came home, once a week every month, but seeing San trailing my sister woke me up to the reality of the predicament I found myself in. I was careless and dumb; I stole from someone whom I should’ve never messed with.

Seonghwa chuckled and I felt his hot breath on my cheek before he whispered in my ear again, “Never thought I’d hear you begging, love.” And without another word, he whistled loudly and I watched as San placed his knife up his sleeve and turned around, walking off, my sister oblivious to everything that could’ve happened to her due to my stupidity.

“Now, give me my compass.”

            One year ago business wasn’t going as well as at the moment, so I was forced to earn money in questionable ways sometimes. Nari, my little sister, was attending a quite well-known school in our humble city and it cost us a lot. I never complained, I wanted her to have a good life. A life better than mine. We are seven years apart and after our parents one day just mysteriously disappeared, I had to take things in my hands. I had to keep the two of us well fed, clean and I had to earn enough money to pay our monthly payments and schools. However, when things got hard I had to give up some luxuries and one of them was my education. I was only fifteen, but I had no choice. Nari started going to school that year and we wouldn’t make it if I didn’t start working full time. It was a hard choice, I loved what I was doing, I always loved studying. I dreamed of becoming a historian one day, but I placed my dreams aside and worked hard so that my little sister would have a nice life. But even that wasn’t enough, so I decided to try out something new. I wasn’t proud of myself at the beginning, and I was scared too that people would realize I was the one stealing their jewelry. However, nobody seemed to find the thief, and I continued on with my antics until I was almost caught. It was the wake-up call that I needed to move to a bigger city, where everyone didn’t know everyone. And that’s when my hard work started paying off. I became a merchandizer of sorts; I exchanged the stolen goods for gold or money if the buyer paid me well. It was a shady business, but everyone knew how I got the expensive jewelry, it’s not like I had anything to hide. Besides, usually pirates or other criminals were interested in what I had to offer and it was rather easy to trick them into paying me more than the jewelry was actually worth. And just like that, I had enough money to bring back to my sister to pay her school and the utilities at home. She always thought I was working for a wealthy family; I didn’t have the heart to tell her that the money I earned wasn’t rightfully mine. Perhaps one day, when she’d understand why I did the things I did, I would tell her the truth. But the business didn’t always go smoothly, sometimes I needed to do some extra work here and there, that’s how I found myself working at an Inn, dressed in a silk dress with a corset accentuating my waist and pushing my breasts higher up for the pleasure of mostly disgusting men. I refused to sleep with any of them, no matter how many times I was offered a large amount of sum, I wasn’t that desperate. I was just a simple waitress who liked to trick men into paying more for their drinks than the actual price was. But of course, nobody had to know about that.

“Welcome, Sir Edwards!” I plastered on my brightest smile as the constable walked inside, wearing his very expensive fur coat he bought last week from the boutique down the street. I bet he didn’t know it was stolen from a very wealthy man who stopped by here two weeks ago. I was the one who stole it and then sold it to Madam Joy, her clothing was the best of the best, even the royal family would come here to buy her newest gowns. A wide smile appeared on Sir Edwards’ lips, his eyes lighting up at the sight of me. I happened to be his favorite waitress, always humble and sweet; the man loved compliments and a person who would listen to his gloating.

“Ah, Y/N!” He exclaimed and I rushed to his side, helping him out of the fur coat. It was still as soft as last week, however once its white fur was now brown, Madam Joy thought a little change was necessary to it, so its real owner wouldn’t recognize it, “I haven’t seen you here in over a month.”

I looked away, blinking quickly, hoping I looked abashed, “How attentive you are, Sir.”

Sir Edwards chuckle and leaned a bit too close for my comfort, “With my favorites I always am.”

I giggled and grabbed onto his arm, starting to lead him towards an empty table. The other girls I was working with gave me amused looks before turning their heads away, not wanting Sir Edwards to notice them. If he was here, his little officers would be also joining him, and that meant we’d make a lot of profit tonight. These wealthy men always ordered the priciest wines and scotch. The table I led the constable to was close to the opened window and furthest from the bar, he didn’t have to see if we mixed anything into their drinks. Sometimes these men would get rowdy and really loud and since we were forbidden from kicking anyone out as long as they were buying, we’d put a little powder into their drinks which would make them sick or sleepy, depending on how much they’ve had to drink.

“I hope you don’t mind this table, Sir, it’s a bit far from the bar but it’s close to the window and that way you can always catch a whiff of fresh air.” I smiled at the man sweetly as I pulled out a chair for him.

“It’s almost as if you read my mind,” He chuckled loudly as he sat down, placing his hand on mine, making my stomach churn. Sir Edwards was by no means attractive or young, but he paid well and he came in just when I needed it most, “I’ve been craving fresh air all day long.”

“It must get stuffy sitting in your office all day long,” I said with pity lacing my voice, slowly pulling my hand out from underneath his, “May I bring you your favorite, Sir Edwards?”

“Bring five extra glasses too, sweetheart, my boys are joining me soon.” Just as I thought, he was bringing over his favorites from the night watch. The other five guys were regulars too and every waitress hated them. They were relatively younger than Sir Edwards and they were nastier and ruder as well. I usually turned a blind eye to all of their snide remarks, but I promised myself that one day I would punch all of their teeth out. But first, I needed to scam them into giving me all of their money.

            And the night went accordingly to my plan. Currently, there were fifteen extra pennies hidden in my little pouch, all from charging our buyers with some extra pennies. It was hilarious how easy drunk people were to scam, they didn’t even care about the money as long as they had something to drink. During the night, a few women had stumbled inside the Inn as well. Few were wearing quite eye-catching rings and bracelets. That was their first mistake. Their second mistake was letting me fawn over them and touch them, testing whether it would be easy taking it from them or not. And their third mistake was getting so wasted they could barely speak. The musicians were playing a catchy song and a few people were dancing and singing loudly as I made my way through the crowd, almost spilling the expensive wine on my white silk dress. I glared at the man, but he wasn’t paying any attention to me, of course. Fixing my expression, I smiled sweetly as I made my way to Sir Edwards’ table, hearing the front door squeaking as it was opened, nobody wanted to fix it and it was bloody loud.

“And here is your glass of wine, imported straight from France, a little sweet but not too much.” I announced loudly once I reached the table, carefully pouring wine into the six glasses. The men stopped conversing and watched me, some too drunk to actually see me and some merely tipsy.  Sir Edwards was clapping excitedly and he placed a ridiculous sum on the table for me, thanking me for paying so much attention to him that he didn’t even have to tell me the previous glass was empty now. I took the pennies while bowing my head at Sir Edwards, thanking him for being so generous, but he just laughed it off and offered me his glass.

“Why don’t you try it yourself? Tell us whether it’s good or should we just ask for another one?” I blinked surprised at Sir Edwards as he has never offered me his glass previously. I gulped and smiled a little as the six men from the table watched me with curious eyes. So, I brought the glass up to my lips and slowly took a bigger sip, expecting it to be sweet, like I was told. But it was rather bland and strong. I tried not to cough and plastered a wide smile on my lips, acting as if I had tasted the best wine in the whole world.

“Now I understand why these cost so much!” I exclaimed, acting rather daft, making the men laugh. They raised their glasses in the air as I handed his back to Sir Edwards and went to head back to the bar, when I felt a grip on my wrist. I looked down at the man holding me, he was the newest recruit of the night watch. He was rather young, I heard he comes from a wealthy family, probably bought his way in, but he was very rude and violent. I witnessed him beating someone to a pulp one evening, when I was headed home, because they dared bumping into him. I know the man he beat up; he was blind, how could he possibly see him?! Thankfully he survived and was at the infirmary, recovering.

“I’ve got enough money to buy this whole building,” The young officer started, eyeing me up, “How much would it cost to have you for one night?”

I scoffed and looked off in the distance, trying to collect myself. Men would say ridiculous things here, but nobody was as shameless as this disgrace of a man gripping my wrist. So I yanked it out of his hold and leaned down, whispering in his ear, “You could be the richest man of the four kingdoms and four seas, and you could still not afford me for one night.”

The young officer was outraged as his eyes widened and lips downturned, raising to his feet at lightning speed. He wasn’t even taller than me. I smirked at him before starting to walk off, hearing Sir Edwards telling him to sit down and have some manners when his seniors were talking. I probably shouldn’t get on the police’s bad side, but a young officer like him could do nothing to me. I went back to the bar and sighed loudly, pointing at a glass and a cheap scotch for Jongdae to pour. He chuckled and poured just a little bit as the waitresses couldn’t get drunk while working.

“That’ll be five pennies, young lady.” I chuckled as I downed the liquid in one go, cringing at the foul taste of it.

“I’ll give you eight if you pour me another one.” I playfully bargained with my colleague and he chuckled.

“Nine?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Eight, take it or leave it.”

“Fine.” He poured me another one as I placed eight pennies on the surface of the bar, making Jongdae chuckle.

“You sure these are real?” I gave him a look before downing the alcohol again.

“Go ask Sir Edwards if they are real, dickhead.” Jongdae started cackling and I shook my head at him, fixing my apron.

“I’d rather stay here; they look like awful people.” He wasn’t wrong, but to be fair, they could’ve been worse.

“Sir Edwards is alright; the others are the problem.” I muttered.

“It’s always the younglings which are rude,” He said that as if he wasn’t only seventeen years old, making me chuckle, “By the way, that man walked in like five minutes ago, you should go serve him before he leaves.”

I let out a quiet groan as I turned around, looking for the client Jongdae was talking about. My feet were killing me and the corset started being a little too tight, I couldn’t wait for my shift to be over. And just to my luck, the man had to sit the farthest from the bar, right next to the exit. Jongdae poured me a glass half full of scotch and I took off towards the man. He was alone, sitting at a table for ten. I eyed his surroundings, wondering whether he was here by himself or with others. But it seemed like he was alone, looking down at something he was holding, deep in thought. I stopped next to him and cleared my throat.

“You seem like a scotch lover.” I spoke up, a pleasant smile on my lips as I caught the man’s attention. He wore clean but slightly scruffy looking clothes. His waist high pants were of black leather, it was quite obvious he’s been wearing them for a long time now. And his unbuttoned shirt at the top seemed faded in its color. When he looked up, I was speechless for a second. His face was mesmerizing, I could confidently say he was the handsomest man I have ever seen until now. His sharp eyes were dark but they held a soft intensity, rather friendly than intimidating. The bridge of his long nose was straight and his red plump lips formed a small smile.

“I actually hate scotch,” He said softly with a chuckle. His voice was smooth and melodic, I was taken aback by the appearance and aura of the man sitting in front of me, “Do you happen to have beer?”

“We do.” I had to clear my throat as I sounded rather breathless, I tried not to blush out of embarrassment, but the man’s cheeky smile had my heart somersaulting.

“If you could bring me that, I’d appreciate it.” He was so polite, very rare around here, “And you can have my scotch, you look like you need it.”

That made me chuckle as I looked around the Inn, taking in the chaos and drunk people, “Yes, I do.”

But the scotch wasn’t free and I wasn’t about to pay for it, I just gave Jongdae eight pennies, “It’ll cost five pennies, though.”

The stranger’s smile got wider, amused, “Other Inns sell it for three—”

“Quality over quantity, you know.” I cut him off with a nonchalant shrug. The man chuckled and shook his head a little, easing his hand into his pocket before he placed five pennies on the table. I looked at it for a second before I downed the half full glass in two big gulps, instantly regretting it. I shuddered and closed my eyes tightly, waiting for the burn to pass.

“Oh, yeah,” The man chuckled as if he read my thoughts, “I don’t drink scotch for exactly that reason.”

“Noted.” I managed to say hoarsely, taking the pennies and placing them in my pouch, “I’ll be right back with your beer, but that’ll be eight pennies.”

And before he could complain about the cost again, I walked off, shaking my head and massaging my stomach. I haven’t eaten since lunch, one more glass like this one and I’ll be drunk in no time. Jongdae spotted my expression before I arrived at the bar and laughed loudly as he poured water in a tall glass. I took it without hesitation when he handed it to me and cursed loudly after downing it in one go.

“One beer, please.” I placed the glass inside of the bar, where Jongdae worked, and he chuckled, handing me the beer meanwhile I handed him four pennies for it. Yes, I charged everyone double the amount so that I could still gain something. Being smart was necessary at crucial times. Once arriving to the handsome man’s table, eight pennies were waiting on the table for me and I handed him his beer without a word, focusing on other clients in need.

            The handsome stranger ordered five more beers before I was finished with my shift and I threw my apron at Jongdae when he mentioned how my pouch looked heavier than usually. He wasn’t wrong, but it was none of his business, so I waved at him and bid goodbye to my other colleagues before taking off. Sir Edwards and his boys left an hour ago, the Inn was starting to finally quiet down, eight waitresses weren’t needed anymore. But as I was making my way towards the door, the handsome stranger noticed me and smiled at me. I was about to bid him farewell too, but he called me over. I apologized and told him my shift was over but he could ask Yoona for more drinks, and to my surprise, he asked me to join him. I debated on refusing, but my curiosity got to me. I haven’t seen him around here until now, and not many new people frequented our Inn. The compass he kept clutching from time to time caught my eyes and I was curious to see it from up close, but it looked like it was very significant to the stranger, I knew I had to get close if I actually wanted to see it. Besides, he was handsome too and well mannered, I figured sitting down and talking to him wouldn’t hurt anyone. Except that we got extremely drunk, the both of us. The stranger, who’s name I learned was Seonghwa, kept buying beer after beer, he was downing them as if they were water and at some point, we started mixing the scotch with the beer, which was a big mistake. It hit me like a truck and I found myself unable to form coherent sentences. My head was spinning and my eyes were struggling to stay open, but I wasn’t sleepy, it just felt better if I closed them. Anything that Seonghwa was saying sounded funny and I kept giggling as I tried ignoring how hot I was feeling. Seonghwa and I had moved closer to each other sometime during our drunken story-telling and I tried to keep my eyes off his red lips, but they were really plump. And looked really soft. And kissable. And warm. And before I could blink again, those red limps were pressing against mine, not too harshly but not softly either. I was surprised at first and didn’t react, thinking that my intoxicated mind started hallucinating, however, when Seonghwa pulled back I realized it was very real and I quickly leaned forward, pressing my lips against his. He kissed back, his lips warm and soft and as kissable as I imagined them to be. The sounds of the Inn seemed to disappear around us and Seonghwa’s sudden hand on my thigh definitely made me feel hotter. It wasn’t the alcohol only anymore making me feel warm all over. Our lips moved cautiously against each other, curious of the other’s rhythm, slow and exploring.

Before I could form a sentence, I felt myself moving, standing from the chair and walking away from the table, Seonghwa’s arm around my hips guiding us up the stairs, towards one of the many room’s the Inn had upstairs. I was probably the one who mentioned it to him, but I couldn’t be sure as my mind was in a haze, barely registering what was happening around us. It felt like ages, but it were probably just a few minutes before I felt my back pressed up against a cool material, it was the wall of the room we had walked inside. Seonghwa was standing in front of me, taller with a head and it made me giggle as I looked up at him and started playing with his black, wavy hair. It was longer than most men wore it and I liked it as I let my fingers run through it. Seonghwa’s hot breath kept hitting my face as he was leaning down, taking in my face. I didn’t realize it, but he caged me between himself and the wall, acting as if I had in mind to run. When our eyes locked, my giggles died out and I bit my lower lip, taking in the intensity in his eyes. He was insanely attractive and I could feel my body heating up once again as I pushed his head closer to mine, very slowly connecting our lips. There was no softness and curiosity in this kiss, it was needy and feverish as Seonghwa devoured my lips, holding the back of my head as if his life depended on it. I followed his pace and explored his wide shoulders with my fingers, lightly tracing his neck before he suddenly gripped my chin and pulled away, pupils dilated. He was gasping for air and my heart was beating like crazy. His lips opened and quietly whispered if it was alright and I nodded, fingers already unbuttoning his shirt, eager to see what was underneath. Seonghwa’s fingers made quick work with my corset as he quickly undid the string and I was finally able to breathe regularly, that is, until he grabbed my thighs and lifted me up, my legs securing around his hips. I pushed his shirt down his shoulder, biceps, and arm, allowing my hands to roam against his blazing skin. Seonghwa’s lips found mine again and we started kissing as I held onto him tightly, poking my tongue in his mouth. He started sucking on it as he walked us towards the bed, making me sit as he pulled away, my lips desperately following after his, but he stopped me with his finger.

I gulped and watched as he took his shirt off, followed by his leather pants, standing in nothing but his undergarment. His body was lean and smooth, muscles bulging everywhere, showing off the physical effort his work required. I reached out and grabbed his waist, feeling his soft skin. Seonghwa closed his eyes as I leaned forward and started pressing soft kisses against his torso, following his V line, but he stopped me before I could reach his undergarments. His fingers hooked underneath the thin straps of my silk dress and he pulled it over my head as I raised up a bit to help him. Suddenly the cool air of the room hit me, and only now did I notice that the window was open. The salty breeze entered the room as I moved back on the bed, allowing Seonghwa to crawl towards me, eliciting a chuckle. My breasts were perky from the sudden temperature change and I laid down as Seonghwa crawled above my body, a hand grabbing my left breast, kneading it carefully. I closed my eyes and sighed, running my hand up his arm as his other hand trailed my thigh up to my stomach, slowly massaging it. I gripped his nape and pulled his face down, kissing his lips feverishly, allowing his tongue to explore my mouth as he pinched the bud of my breast, making me gasp. My legs went around Seonghwa’s hips and I pulled his body close to mine, as he slowly started grinding against me, building the tension more and more. My mind was hazy and foggy from all the alcohol, I could only remember bits and pieces, but Seonghwa’s groans and moans followed by his rhythmic thrusts were forever drilled in my brain. His pace was slow at first, allowing me to accommodate to his size as I hadn’t done this in a while, but when I faintly whispered to him that I wanted him to go faster he picked up his pace, pulling out and pushing back in, one hand holding my hips fiercely, leaving little fingerprints for me to later find. His other arm rested next to my face and his head was next to mine, lips grazing against my ear from time to time as he whispered sweet nothings to me, my moans getting gradually higher the faster and stronger he slammed back in. My head was thrown back as I whispered his name, but it wasn’t enough, I needed to feel more, so without much thought, I flipped us over, making Seonghwa’s eyes widen.

I groaned at the new feeling, his member reaching deeper inside in this position. I adjusted my knees a bit, making my hips move and Seonghwa’s hands flew to hold them, a whine leaving his lips. I watched him as I slowly started moving, dragging out my movements as best as I could, watching as Seonghwa’s eyes closed and his mouth opened, cursing quietly to himself. Pleasure racked my body as I fastened my pace, gyrating my hips, gasping when I hit the spot I much needed to. Seonghwa’s eyes snapped open and he started thrusting upwards, watching me as I matched his pace, moans getting throatier and whinier as I was chasing my high, stomach tightening and toes curling from the pleasure. We were a mess of moans and groans, chests falling and rising rapidly, holding onto each other desperately, moving messily, chasing our own release. Seonghwa’s head was thrown back as one hand held my breast and all I could remember was the knot exploding in my stomach, making me moan his name again and again, feelings his hands guide me through my high as he came undone inside me, lips parting in a loud moan, hips stuttering for a second before stopping their movement altogether. I was panting on top of him and ran a hand through my hair, missing the warmth of his hand once he release my breast. As I opened my eyes he pulled me down and captured my lips in a passionate kiss, slowly pulling out, and flipping us over, lips never leaving mine for a second. I ran my fingers through his hair lazily and felt the fabric of the blanket being pulled over my body as Seonghwa pulled back, pressing a soft kiss against my lips, then my eyes and my forehead before settling on his back and pulling me into his side. I bit my lip and fought the smile that threatened to appear on my lips, but when he wished me good night, I could hear the smile on his own lips. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I wouldn’t be here when he’d wake up because I wasn’t planning on staying the night. I had to go home and hide the stolen jewelry and money before anyone could come back to the Inn and accuse any of us from stealing it. So I promised to close my eyes and wait until Seonghwa fell asleep, except that I also fell asleep and when I opened my eyes again, the sun was just about to rise. I panicked and groaned when my headache hit me like a hammer, head pounding viciously. I had too much to drink last night, my mind was still hazy, memories after I sat down to drink with Seonghwa unclear.

Slowly, I became aware of the naked body I was sleeping against, of an arm holding my middle lightly and of my own naked body. The activities of last night hit me suddenly and I gasped, carefully getting out of Seonghwa’s grasp. I did not intend on sleeping with the handsome stranger, yet I couldn’t complain. I clumsily dressed myself, struggling with the string of my corset, so I didn’t even bother to pull it together as tightly as I normally would. I looked around for my pouch and found it on the floor, next to the nightstand, where Seonghwa’s pants were thrown. As I bent down and grabbed my pouch, making sure nothing fell out of it, my eyes fell on the golden compass I had seen Seonghwa clutching. He wore it around his neck, but while he was undressing, he took it off and placed it in his pants, it probably fell out when he threw it around carelessly. I took the compass in my hands and stood up straight, examining it from up close, realizing it was made out of gold. I bit my lower lip and opened it, examining it. It was in perfect condition, it looked old and like it cost a lot of money. Squinting a little bit and bringing the item closer to my eyes, I could make out a name on the inside of the compass, Bu Seolhwa. I wondered who that was, but my attention was quickly back on Seonghwa as he sighed in his sleep and shifted, turning around, onto his stomach. I probably shouldn’t have taken an item which looked so personal, but when did I care when stealing from innocent people? Now really wasn’t the time that I would start caring, although I probably should have been wiser and placed the compass back inside his pants pocket. But back at that time I didn’t know who Seonghwa was. I didn’t know the danger I’d place myself and my sister into by stealing his golden compass.

            I pulled on the reins, slowing my horse to a trot as we entered through the gates of the city to which I haven’t been to in six months. There was nothing wrong with it, I loved it here, but for some reason I couldn’t find the power in me to return. It was weird, it’s never happened to me. Suddenly, as if it burned me, I was reminded of the weight of the compass around my neck, indirectly making me think of Seonghwa. There was something particular about him that I couldn’t place my finger on. Perhaps it was his constant politeness while we conversed, his softness and carefulness. It stayed with me, and I often times found myself thinking about him, wondering where he was. I didn’t ask what his occupation was or where he was from, therefore I basically knew nothing of him. He mentioned something about the Black Ocean and then about the Barren Sea being the most chilling experience of his life so far, but I couldn’t be very sure, my intoxicated mind couldn’t pay much attention to his words. Perhaps it was the compass I kept on myself at all times that kept him so alive in my memories or perhaps it was the way he made me feel. Shaking my head, I focused back on my surroundings, slowing my horse to a walk as we entered the heart of the city. It was buzzing with people, merchants shouting and trying to charm people to their stalls, selling their products. Little cafes were opened, ladies in beautiful dresses were enjoying their teas while giggling and gossiping, meanwhile men either read the newspaper or hurried back to their work places as lunch time was over. I pulled the reins to the left and my horse took down on a smaller street, walking us away from the madness. The shop I was headed to was by the heart of the city, but not quite at view as the owner tried to stay away from the watchful eyes of Sir Edwards; the two have always had the ick for each other. I stopped my horse and carefully got off, petting its head before tying her reins against the lamp post in front of the shop. She looked at me and neighed loudly, making me chuckle as I took off the smaller bag from the saddle I carried with myself. From the outside it looked as if the shop was closed, but I knew Mr. Jung kept his shop open at all times, too greedy and desperate for any kind of stock. I pushed the door open and walked inside the dimly lit place, looking around. It hasn’t changed at all. The shelves were still covered in dust and the chandelier hung way too low in the middle of the room; a few candles unlit. I walked around it, eyeing the desk and the empty chair behind it. There were papers scattered around the table and a pen lying messily on a bare paper, the ink creating a small black circle on it. I stopped in front of the desk and knocked on it loudly, waiting for a reaction. And it came instantly as there was commotion behind the door I was facing. After a loud grunt and a crash, the door flew open and out came a middle-aged looking man, beard long and already white, a funny hat resting on Mr. Jung’s head. I chuckled as I watched him stumble through the door, shoe catching in the doorway, and for a second I thought he’d faceplant on his own desk, but he caught himself last minute and puffed loudly.

“What a particular way of greeting your customer.” I muttered amused, throwing the small bag I carried with myself on the desk carelessly. Mr. Jung’s eyes lit up and he was quick to sit down, pushing the papers off his desk and onto the floor. Seems like his business hasn’t been flourishing lately.

“Good morning, Miss Kim.” He said with a sweet tone, his golden tooth showing as he grinned. I rolled my eyes and opened the bag, knowing very well he was being nice only because I had something to offer him. Mr. Jung was a cranky and unpleasant man to be around.

“No need for fake kindness,” I said as I held the bottom of the bag and raised it up, emptying it’s contents onto the table. Mr. Jung’s eyes grew wide and he gasped, hands flying to touch the golden coins. Indeed, I did bring a lot, but not all was his. Unless he paid me well, of course, “How much for these?”

He didn’t hesitate with his answer, “Your bag filled with pennies and two bars of gold.”

I chuckled, crossing my arms in front of my chest. My bag was not a big bag, it wouldn’t work, “Johnny from the little town just two hours away offered me more, Jung.”

“Perhaps Johnny is easily fooled.”

“Perhaps Johnny isn’t on the verge of closing his shop due to losing clients—”

“I did not lose clients!” Mr. Jung exclaimed, cutting me off, pointing his finger at me accusingly.

“Did you not, really?” I raised my eyebrows, taking a coin in my hand, “Because that’s not what Madam Joy said to me last night.”

“Madam Joy doesn’t know anything!” Mr. Jung stood appealed, face going red, “That woman gossips all day—”

“That woman is smart for knowing at all times what’s happening in the town,” I cut him off, throwing him a glare, “your pathetic reasoning leads me to believe that you did lose clients, Jung.”

The man opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it and sat back down, rubbing his chin. His reaction said it all. Business was awful and without stock he’d be closing his little shop in no time.

“Give me two bags, full bags, of pennies and I won’t ask for any gold—”

“Outrageous!” He exclaimed again and I chuckled, playing with the coin in my hand.

“Take it or leave it Jung, I can always find a dealer who’ll pay me better than you have been paying me throughout all these years.” I snapped and threw the coin back down on the desk, leaning forward to grab my small bag to start putting away the goods I had to offer. Mr. Jung’s eyes widened in panic and he started stuttering as he tried to stop me from putting the coins away.

“I guess Sir Edwards won’t have to keep an eye on you for too much longer.” I muttered as I made eye contact with Mr. Jung, infuriating him.

“I am not closing my shop!” Mr. Jung slammed his fist on the table and I chuckle, muttering a small ‘sure’ as I closed the bag, tying it tightly and turned to walk away without a word. A shuffle and then the crash of something, probably his chair hitting the floor, echoed behind me before hurried footsteps followed after me. I wasn’t even close to the door when Mr. Jung grabbed my wrist, stopping me from leaving his shop. I looked back at him uninterested, watching him fumble for a second before his eyes fell to my collarbones, eyes narrowing slightly.

“I fill your bag with pennies, give you two bars of gold for now…and in two weeks you can come back for another penny fill, what do you say?” I took a second to think, knowing that this offer was the best. Johnny offering me more was a lie, he didn’t even want to fill my own little bag with pennies, “And…I sell that beautiful compass ridiculously overpriced, giving you half of the money.”

“No.” My answer was instant; I didn’t need to think about his second offer. The compass was not up for sale. It was mine, and I wasn’t giving it to anyone. They could tell me they’ll make me Queen and I’d still not give it away, “The compass is not for sale.”

“But—”

“I said,” I snapped, stepping closer to Mr. Jung menacingly, “It’s not for sale.”

His eyes narrowed again as he looked down at the compass, nose flaring in anger before he shook his head, “But the other offer?”

“That one’s good.” I said with a smile, pulling my wrist out of his grip as I offered him my hand. He didn’t look pleased as we shook hands before he took my bag full of coins, a few watches, and women’s jewelry, “I’ll be back in two weeks.”

“I’ll make sure to have the money.” Mr. Jung grumbled, still eyeing the compass, making me glare at him. I grabbed it and pushed it underneath my white shirt, pulling the collar of the jacket over it, hiding my little treasure from him, “I have seen that compass before, Miss, you should be careful.”

His eyes held no emotion, but his words were threatening as Mr. Jung continued, “Ateez has been asking around about you. Not only here, in neighboring towns as well…”

Ateez? The name sounded familiar yet I didn’t know from where as I racked my brain, knowing that I’ve heard it from Sir Edwards once in passing. He was saying something about a tiara and a ship, pirates too even?

“You should be careful too,” I spoke up as Mr. Jung walked back to his desk and I headed for the door, “Sir Edwards was saying last time I was in town that he’s caught a link of yours, another dealer. Perhaps he’ll catch you before you could close your shop.”

I didn’t wait for Mr. Jung’s reaction as I pushed the door open and walked outside, the closed door behind me muffling his angry shouts. The man had terrible mood swings; he was never able to deal with his anger properly.

I approached my horse and petted her nose again, kissing it before I whispered to her that I would be back. There was a little bakery down the street and I haven’t had breakfast yet, I was craving some freshly baked bread. The weather was pleasant despite it being the beginning of September, if my coat wasn’t so thin I would’ve felt hot by now. I greeted a few people I knew as I walked, smiling and stopping to exchange pleasantries with an older lady who sometimes played the piano at the Inn I would work at when in need of more money. She was always nice but very nosy, I made sure to tell her as little as I could about myself. The bakery was in sight when I heard rapid footsteps approaching me from behind. When I turned my head to see what was happening, it was already too late as my mouth was covered by a rough hand and I was pushed into the dead-end alleyway to our right. I came face to face with three men as I was pushed forward by the one holding me. I glanced back to see two more there. This was bad. I was a skilled fighter, but I was alone and they were five. Two would’ve been good enough already. Damn Mr. Jung. He really hated it when something didn’t go his way. All of this for one stupid golden compass? I sighed and grabbed the sleeves of my coat, the man around me tensing. There was one really tall and really muscular one, I hoped he’d attack me last or at least knock me out fast if he decided to come at me first.

“Relax, boys,” I said with a chuckle, taking the coat off and throwing it to the side, not wanting it to get in the way, “I’m just taking my coat off, why so tense?”

I knew teasing and talking would do nothing right now, but I tried to stall and think of a way of running away. I was quite the fast runner, too many close calls of getting caught do that to you.

“Give us the compass.” The biggest said and I sighed, grabbing the handles of the two daggers hidden in my thick belt.

“There’s really nothing special about it,” I said with a shrug, its weight reminding me of Seonghwa again. Now really wasn’t the time to think about him.

“Boss wants it,” The same man said, “give it to us while we’re asking nicely.”

“No, because it’s mine.” I snapped and the first guy to my right took off running towards me. I quickly took my daggers out and sliced his arm when he reached out for me, making him scream out in pain. I kneeled his stomach and kicked him to the ground as hard as I could. The next one was by my side in an instant, grabbing my arm and hauling me around, making me scoff. I elbowed them in the stomach and sunk my dagger into their thigh, his cries of pain loud as he fell to the ground. I ripped the dagger out and attacked the next guy straight away, not waiting for them to attack first. They had a knife, this time, and he was successful at cutting my cheek, making me hiss. I tried to punch him, but he dodged, when I was whirled around and punched in the face. I groaned loudly, holding my nose in bewilderment. But again, my leg was kicked and I almost lost my balance, turning around in a furry and punching this time successfully the guy in the face not just once, but twice. They stumbled into the wall and as I was about to stab them, my hair was grabbed and my head was yanked back, making me yelp.

“Don’t touch my hair!” I screamed, stepping on the man’s toes hard, twisting my heel and leaning forward to elbow them in the jaw, making them stumble back. I turned around and stabbed them in the stomach, making the man gasp. But I didn’t even have time to pull my dagger out as the last guy standing, the really big one, had me by my shoulder and threw me against the stone wall. I groaned as my shoulder crashed into the wall rather hard, pain spreading through my right arm. Great, now I’ll have to get that fixed probably. But as I looked at him, I was slapped rather hard and accidentally bit my tongue, making it bleed. What a perfect day I was having…and it was only Wednesday. I groaned and straightened up, attempting to punch the guy, but he grabbed my fist and twisted my arm, turning me around as I was pushed into the stone wall, left cheek crushed against it. It was rather painful and I scoffed at how weak I seemed to appear next to this big man. It was really comedic; I could usually protect myself.

“All of this for a compass—”

“Shut up!” It wasn’t enough that I was struggling to speak due to my face getting crushed, he proceeded to smash my head against the stone wall, making me lightheaded too. I huffed loudly, squeezing my eyes shut for a second as I felt so dizzy I could throw up. The man’s right hand raised, leaving my right arm free and despite me trying to push him away with it and wriggling around, he still held me pressed against the wall, hand grabbing the compass around me. I started writhing around more aggressively, trying to squeeze the chain between my chest and chin, thinking it would do anything to stop the man from taking it. I really couldn’t lose the compass; I would never forgive myself. I shouldn’t even have taken it in the first place. The name on the inside made it seem really personal. I had no idea who Bu Seolhwa was, but assuming by their name, it could be a sister or other relative of Seonghwa’s. Perhaps a lover too. I yelped when the man tugged on the string harshly and thanked the Heavens for putting the compass on the hardest metal I owned at home, as it didn’t break right away. The man was grunting as I was fighting against him, trying to get him off pathetically, when suddenly he just stopped moving. The grip around me disappeared instantly. I was released in a blink of an eye; the action startled me. I turned around swiftly, still holding one dagger and pointed it forward, thinking that the man was playing games with me, but he wasn’t. He was dead. Eyes wide with blood pouring out of his jugular. My mouth dropped open when I took in the scene in front of me, all the other four men having suffered the same fate. My eyes fell on the man standing to my left, a thin, little knife in hand as he watched the men on the ground. He was dressed in all black, hands glowed and a hat on his head as the lower part of his face was covered by a black rag like thing. I stepped back when their head snapped towards me, crashing into the wall. I held the dagger firmly, ready to fight them at any given point. When our eyes met, I gasped, holding the dagger higher up, pointed at the person now. The man’s sharp eyes watched me with intensity, rage mixing with bewilderment. His eyes…they looked exactly like…Seonghwa’s? I gulped when he took a step towards me, eyes falling to my neck, but I stood ready to defend myself. When the man and I made eye contact again there was nothing but hatred in his eyes and I felt confused as they approached me, gripping my wrist so hard that I dropped my dagger. I hissed and grabbed his wrist with my other hand, trying to pry their fingers off myself, but the person tugged on my wrist and I looked up at them, eyebrows furrowed. The person looked and felt so familiar. Have we met before?

“Seonghwa?” I whispered startled as the scent of salt and lilies engulfed me. Not many people walked around here smelling like lilies and Seonghwa was the only one I could remember recently meeting who smelled like it. Well, six months ago, that is. But the man said nothing and released me abruptly, turning around and running off, making me run after them, but I realized I couldn’t leave my daggers at the crime scene. I had to leave now if I didn’t want anyone to see us. I was sure someone has already reported to the constable about weird noises, I couldn’t let myself be seen by Sir Edwards here. So I grabbed my daggers and coat and ran off, having long forgotten about fresh bread, as my mind was reeling at the thought of having just seen Seonghwa. Was it really him? Why would he save me after I stole his compass? Right, so then it couldn’t have been him. And who were these Ateez people looking for me? I had to figure it out fast, before I could put Nari in even more danger.

             I barely made it to my horse when the constable came hurrying down the street with a few of his men, searching for the people creating the disturbance. I concealed my face in order to avoid getting seen by him and got on my horse, directing her towards the Inn I was staying at. It was the same Inn I work at, but today I was their client. After making it back there I realized how shaken up I was and the violent thumping of my head. That huge man didn’t go easy on me, I figured I had a mild concussion. I had enough strength to bring my horse to the stable and ask the little boy to take care of her until tomorrow and I’d pay him generously before I made my way inside the Inn, struggling to walk up the stairs. My vision was blurry and the coat around me made me feel hot. The compass seemed to be a screaming reminder of Seonghwa right now, and without thinking much, I took it off, glaring at it.

“Oh my goodness,” I heard a female voice muttering worriedly, coming from the top of the stairs, “Y/N you’re so pale—”

I felt hands gripping my arms and I looked up, but couldn’t see well. It was one of the girls working at the Inn, Yoona. I tried to tell her that I was alright and I just needed to sleep, but my mouth wouldn’t move and my vision was darkening second by second. All I could hear was Yoona’s panicked scream before I felt my body falling towards her.

When I came to it the sun was setting, and there was a damp cloth on my forehead. I rubbed my eyes, and groaned, my right shoulder quite numb at the moment. I looked around and realized I was in the room I was staying at and sighed, closing my eyes for another second, noting that my head was still thumping, but not as violently as it had been previously. There was knocking at the door and then it opened, Yoona walking in with a tray of food. My stomach churned at the smell and I grinned at her, slowly sitting up.

“Figured you’d be hungry,” She muttered, placing the tray on my lap as I thanked her, “How are you feeling?”

“Ugh,” I groaned, grabbing the bowl of rice and the chopsticks, “like I was slammed against a brick wall more than once.”

Yoona chuckled and grabbed the damp cloth off my forehead, “You looked very bad in the morning. I thought you were about to die or something, you’re lucky Jongdae has some little knowledge about diseases.”

I chuckled as I munched on my dinner, looking at Yoona, “I’m not sick, I was beaten up.”

Her eyes widened and she gasped quietly, coming to sit on the bed, “What? By who?”

I shook my head and bit into the chicken wing, “Don’t worry about it, they’ve been taken care of.”

“I heard they found five dead men in an alleyway close to the market…” Yoona’s voice was quiet and I looked up, our eyes meeting.

“It wasn’t me,” I shook my head quickly, “They were the ones who attacked me, but I didn’t kill them—”

“You’re so fragile, how could you kill them?” Yoona chuckled and ruffled my hair, making me glare at her, “I’m just glad they didn’t get to kill you.”

I hummed and drank some water, placing the cup by the bed, on the floor, as Yoona stole some bread from my tray, “What did they want from you?”

Her question made me pause and I looked at her as I swallowed the food I had in my mouth, “A compass—”

When I touched my neck, there was nothing. And it registered that I couldn’t feel the weight of the golden treasure anymore. I panicked as my eyes widened and I placed the tray on the bed next to me, heart racing as I turned to my bedside table, searching my coat for it. Yoona watched me grow more panicked before she placed a hand on my own, stopping me from getting out of bed, “Stop, you didn’t lose it.”

I looked at her confused, and slightly desperate, as she grabbed something out of her pocket and handed it to me. It was the compass. I let out a long breath, opening it and checking the name inside, making sure it was mine, “You dropped it when you fainted and while Jongdae carried you to your room I went back and got it—”

“Thank you!” I whispered as I offered Yoona a quick hug, taking her off guard. She chuckled and patted my back, pulling away.

“I figured it had a sentimental value when I saw the name on the inside.” Her words made me feel bad all of a sudden, making it clearer that I had stolen something from Seonghwa which was very significant to him. Mr. Jung’s words rang through my head for a second and I watched Yoona stand and take the tray with her.

“Wait, do you know anything about—Ateez?” I stopped her with my question. Her eyebrows furrowed and she slowly shook her head.

“I’m not sure, but—” She hummed, pursing her lips, “They might be a Pirate crew.”

“Pirates?” I muttered surprised as she nodded before walking out the door, leaving me alone. I placed the compass around my neck and got out of bed, opening the window to allow the fresh air inside. I leaned against the frame and started thinking. The man which saved me today made no sense. What was his reason? He was clearly hostile towards me so I don’t understand why he ran off. Perhaps he knew the constable was coming and didn’t want to get caught. His eyes flashed in my mind and I sighed, shaking my head. I was confused. The eyes reminded me of Seonghwa, but it couldn’t have been him. The scent was another giveaway, but still, his demeanor and the intensity behind his eyes weren’t like Seonghwa’s. They were menacing and filled with hatred, the man wasn’t gentle nor careful. I glanced down at my right wrist and realized I had bruises from the harsh grip he held me by and I groaned, realizing my right arm and hand were of no-good use for the week. I convinced myself that it couldn’t have been Seonghwa and I was probably hallucinating from getting my head bashed against the wall so many times.

            After washing up and braiding my long hair, I dressed in clean clothes and applied a little bit of blush on my nose and cheeks, making them appear sun kissed. I was feeling better by the evening, having eaten and taken a little medicine for my head, the only give away that I was in a tousle was the cut on my cheek, now all cleaned up, and the bruises around my wrist. My right shoulder looked fine; however it didn’t feel exactly fine. But all in all, after a jug of beer I knew I wouldn’t be feeling the discomfort anymore. And the night was young, I had to use it to my advantage as the Inn downstairs was already filled with drunken people, so easy to trick. After walking around, I found myself sitting down at a table with six men who were playing some card games. They eyed me curiously as I placed three pennies on the table and asked for some cards too. Upon realizing what the stakes were, they each dropped some pennies on the table, the winner would take it all. At the beginning I allowed myself to lose, pretending like I needed to be taught the rules of the game, also waiting for them to get drunker and less aware of my cheating. Yoona came by to give us a new round of beer, I only drank one as I wished to stay sober, and as she was passing by me she whispered that the man next to me had a red heart. I grinned and as it was my turn, I asked the man if he had that specific card, having him hand it over to me. I was the first one this round to have no cards in my hands, therefore I won. The men groaned as they watched me take the pennies, making me chuckle.

“Seems like you learn fast, young lady.” The man to my left said with a loud laugh, patting me on my back. I chuckled and made sure I closed my pouch before taking the cards in my hands to shuffle them.

“The secret is to pay close attention for two or three rounds, mister.” I said as I started handing out the cards for everyone, the six men placing each five pennies on the table. The sum was getting bigger and bigger as the game progressed and I was enjoying it. One of them seemed to be rather cunning and he was always very close to winning, and probably would have, if I wasn’t cheating by Yoona’s help. She’d pass each round by us, when I subtly signaled it to her, and would look at the cards of the men in passing, whispering the missing card I needed. At the beginning it was all for fun, we did this to frustrate men, until we realized we could actually make some plus money by it. So now, the pennies I earned throughout these games were always half mine and half hers. The men I played with got louder and louder the more jugs of beer they kept drinking, and I found myself enjoying their company. They were middle aged men, all happily married and five of them making their living by fishing. The cunning man made jewelry with pearls, he liked going out on the sea with his friends, always bringing them food and more water to drink. I found myself telling them about my sister and how good she was at school, poetry being a passion of hers. They advised me of letting her live her life freely because once she gets married she won’t have the time anymore. While the man sitting in the middle was shuffling the cards for us, I smiled at the cunning man and told him that if he ever needs pieces for his jewelry to make them fancier and pricier, he should let Yoona know about it and I would get back to him. The men were surprised to hear that I was a merchandiser myself and still single, a woman at twenty-four years old was expected to at least have one child. However, they seemed nicer than most men as they just made a joke about it and carried on with their tales about the sea and their fear of pirates. That perked my interest and I found myself focusing more on the conversation than on the game, which wasn’t the smartest as I had placed the compass on the table as prize instead of coins. When the men saw it their eyes had a new glint in them, all wanting it probably.

“Why are you afraid of pirates, mister?” I found myself interrupting their conversation, almost missing my turn to ask for a new card. Thankfully, I got it right and I was still ahead of the cunning one.

“Have you never met one?” The man to my left asked and I shook my head, peaking at the cards of the man sitting on my right as he accidentally placed them on the table. He was rather drunk, he probably didn’t even care about the game anymore.

“I haven’t.” I answered with a shake of my head, “I’ve never sailed out onto the sea…or the Black Ocean.”

“Perhaps that’s better,” The man next to the cunning one cheered as he got one pair of cards right, having to get rid of only two more, just like me. I bit my lower lip and looked around, checking the others cards. They still had plenty besides the cunning one who only needed to get rid of one more before he equals us. That wasn’t the best, but I could still make it, “The sea isn’t for everyone, child, especially not for a lady like you.”

“I’m quite the fighter, mister.” I said with a chuckle, watching the cunning man as he looked around the table and asked the really drunk one if he had the card he needed. I smirked to myself, he probably must’ve also checked his cards while they were on the table as he got it right and the drunk one had to hand it over.

“It’s good to know how to protect yourself,” The cunning one said, giving me a small smile, “Pirates are different, however. They are violent and ruthless. More people die at their hands than at the Justice Court.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I hummed, noticing that he has equaled me and the other man in the cards. Now I really needed to pay attention, so I looked around for Yoona as the front door opened, still squeaking as loudly as ever. My back was facing it and I wasn’t curious to see who entered, I needed Yoona to help me out in these next two rounds. Thankfully, she noticed my stare and started walking towards us, watching for the signs I made. I needed a black leaf in this round and a red clover in the next one.

“Have you met a pirate?” I asked the table, all men nodding grimly. The one next to me, the really drunk one shivered and looked at me with wide eyes.

“This scar,” He pointed at the scar on his chin, it was quite wide, “was made by one of them. Just because they were asking for the fish I caught and I refused to give it to them…I still remember them, Ateez—”

“Ateez?!” My voice raised, which made Yoona look at me as she found the card I was looking for and motioned that it was at the cunning one. She shook her head at me and smiled when she was noticed by one of the men, asking if he needed anything. He said the music should be louder and Yoona walked off with a chuckle, giving me a warning look.

“They are quite known, child, have you never heard of them?” The man to my left said as the one to my right slurred his words, asking for some cards from me, which I didn’t have. I shook my head as an answer to the question and looked at the cunning man, asking if he had the black leaf. He nodded and handed it over, now I only had to get rid of the clover pair and I’ll win.

“It’s said that their initial Captain died when his son was only fifteen and ever since then he’s been the Captain of the ship. He’s called The Slayer, and child, if you ever come across them, just run the other way. They traffic women and not only, steal, and commit crimes no human should—” The man to my left shuddered and took a big gulp of his beer, checking his cards and asking me if I had the black heart, but I didn’t, “They’ve been the kings of the four seas for ten years now, many ships have sunken in the Raging Sea and Icy Sea…yet they somehow always come out unscratched. Constables hate them in each kingdom and people fear them everywhere. You should look for a golden ring with the letter A engraved in it if you want to know it’s them.”

“Didn’t—” The man to my right hiccupped and closed his eyes for a second, “Didn’t their Quartermaster—have a compass?”

“A compass?” I asked surprised, my eyes falling on the one on the table.

“He’s an orphan, child,” The man to my left explained, eyes barely open as he looked at his cards, these men were finished, I had a feeling this would be our last round playing, “The compass he always carries with himself is the only thing he had on himself when the initial Captain found him.”

I gulped and felt a bile rising to my throat, impatiently waiting for it to be my turn, so that I could finish this game and get a fresh breath of air. My heart was beating faster than before and the longer I looked at the compass, the worse the feeling in my gut was getting. It couldn’t have been Seonghwa. He looked nothing like a pirate. And he wasn’t wearing any rings the night we met. It surely must be a coincidence that he has a compass just like the Quartermaster of Ateez.

“Mister,” I smiled at the man to my left, eyeing his cards, “Do you happen to have a red clover?”

The man looked down at his cards with a frown, lips turning into a pout when he had to hand it over. I thanked him and placed my last cards down on the table, raising my palms in the air, showing them that I had finished the game. All men groaned as I pulled the pennies towards me, placing them in my pouch and quickly wearing the compass again. It felt uncomfortable to not have it around my neck, these past six months I have grown quite fond and protective of it.

“I’m afraid I have to say no to a next game,” I said as I stood and waved Yoona over, “But the next round of beers is on me.”

The men chuckled and nodded, one telling me that was only fair after I took all of their money, “Yoona, please serve each one of them a jug of beer, I’m paying.”

“Yes, of course,” She said with a pleasant smile and after biding farewell to the men, I followed Yoona to the bar, “Y/N, listen, there’s a man—”

I looked at her with furrowed eyebrows when she gripped my arm harshly, “He’s been staring at you quite—murderously ever since he entered the Inn, I think you should go.”

“Where’s he?” I muttered and Yoona turned her head, muttering quietly in which direction to look. Following her instructions, I turned my head and gasped. In the same spot where six months ago he was sat, it was Seonghwa sitting again. His eyes were narrowed and a scary smirk formed on his lips when he saw how wide my eyes were. I sucked in a harsh breath and ripped myself away from Yoona, “I’ll find you after your shift is over to pay you, I have to go now.”

Yoona said nothing as I hurried away from the bar and from the following eyes of Seonghwa, up the stairs and straight to my room to pack all of my belongings and leave earlier than planned. But first, I had to wait for the bar downstairs to close and for Yoona’s shift to be over. I couldn’t leave without keeping up my end of the deal.

            I had been a nervous wreck for the past few hours, pacing up and down in my room, checking the door every five minutes to make sure I had locked it. I even closed the window and drew the curtains closed, too paranoid of Seonghwa possibly watching me from the outside. There was one single candle lit in the room, barely creating any light, but it was more than enough. I couldn’t give away which room I was staying in, scared that Seonghwa was here, watching, listening, waiting for the right moment to attack. I had taken the compass off and hidden it deep inside my bag, tucked away in my other pants’ pocket. I knew what he was here for. The sailors tales about the Quartermaster of Ateez kept ringing through my mind and I jumped every time there was the lightest sound outside my door. I knew I was overreacting, but I couldn’t help it. If Seonghwa was here, he was here to take his compass back and possibly kill me. It must’ve been him in the alleyway who killed those men, and he was brutal. He stabbed the jugulars of five men without batting an eye to it and I knew he could do worse to me. I sucked in a deep breath as the clock hit three o’clock in the morning, Yoona’s shift was over and I could finally leave. The bar wouldn’t close for another one or two hours, but that wasn’t a problem, at least I didn’t have to sneak out. I quickly rolled up the tail of my braid in a low bun and pinned it up, making sure it wouldn’t annoy me while riding my horse back home. The ride took about four hours and then I needed a boat to cross to the small island my sister and I lived on. I looked in the mirror and made sure my pouch was secured against my belt before I walked up to the door and paused. I took a deep breath and opened it to a dimly lit hallway. It was quiet and nobody was standing in front of my door, so I allowed myself to relax a little bit. Perhaps Seonghwa wasn’t here for me. I stepped outside my room and turned to the left with the intention to go to Yoona’s room, but my body crashed into a solid one. I gasped at the familiar scent and jumped backwards, body moving on its own before my brain could even register what was happening. For a second, Seonghwa and I stood staring at each other, until both of us snapped out of it at the same time. I jumped back inside my room and went to close the door and lock it, but Seonghwa pushed it open before I could even place my whole wight against it. The door slammed against the wall loudly as I let go of it, grunting due to the force he was using. I walked backwards further inside the room, hand gripping my dagger’s handle. Seonghwa watched me menacingly as he very easily pushed the door closed with his foot only, lips pulling up into a bone chilling smirk.

“Long time no see, Y/N.” The way he said my name made me shiver, I found myself unable to speak, “Six months, to be exact.”

So he was counting the months too. Perhaps he was awaiting our next meeting. Perhaps he’s been planning this for a long time. Perhaps I’d be a dead woman once Seonghwa walks out of this room. I couldn’t let that happen, I couldn’t leave my sister alone. So suppressing a shudder, I tried to gather myself and act fearless.

“I see you’ve been patiently waiting to see me again.” I mocked, body tense as Seonghwa made no moves, just watched me like a predator watches its prey before pouncing on them.

“I wouldn’t say patiently,” He chuckled, eyes taking in my form, searching for something, “you move around a lot, so it was difficult to find you.”

So this would’ve happened sooner if I didn’t travel around the South Kingdom so much to steal, “Why would you want to find me?”

Perhaps playing coy wasn’t the smartest right now, but it seemed to stop Seonghwa from attacking just yet. He chuckled and massaged his forehead for a second. He didn’t look much different since the last time I had seen him. If anything else, his shoulder seemed to have gotten wider, or perhaps it was just the corset hugging his torso perfectly creating that illusion. His wavy hair has gotten longer, though, and it was tied up, the shorter strands falling in his face. I tensed when Seonghwa suddenly approached me with slow steps, and almost took my dagger out when his fingers touched my left cheek. I stared up in his eyes, missing the gentleness in them from last time, now only seeing anger and hatred. I never thought this man was capable of looking at me like that.

“Was it you—” I found myself whispering as his fingers traveled down my cheek and then jaw, “who killed those men in the alleyway?”

Seonghwa smirked again, raising an eyebrow, “What do you think, love?”

Before I could answer him, his fingers just barely pressed against the skin of my neck before his hand wrapped around it, holding it firmly. I reacted instantly, dagger in hand and pointed at his own neck. Seonghwa chuckled, but didn’t squeeze me or even move.

“Where is it, love?” He asked quietly, eyebrows raised as I tried to control my body and stop it from shaking.

“Where is what?” I managed to ask breathlessly, finding myself lost in his eyes. Seonghwa hissed and his grip suddenly turned tighter around my neck, yanking me closer as I pushed my dagger harder against his neck too.

“Don’t act like you didn’t take my compass, Y/N,” He hissed, voice dangerously low and dark eyes boring into mine, “I saw it around your neck earlier.”

“I don’t have it—” His free hand gripped my wrist and twisted it so suddenly, that my dagger fell from my grip as I cried out, a stabbing pain travelling up my arm. Seonghwa looked furious and I tried to free myself, but he started choking me as he whirled us around and walked me backwards until I was slammed against the wall, head crashing against it harshly. For a second my vision blurred and I knew this wasn’t good for the small concussion I got just this morning, and as if a reminder, my head started thumping lightly. With my left hand I tried to push Seonghwa off but he was like a rock, way stronger than I was.

“Stop it!” I choked out somehow as my left hand made it to his face and I started pushing him away by it, turning his head away. Seonghwa still didn’t budge, but when I tried to push his eye with my thumb, he released my right hand and slapped my other hand off his face, allowing me to grip his neck back with my right hand, squeezing as hard as I could. Seonghwa’s jaw clenched as we stared each other in the eyes, both of us fighting to suck in an ounce of air, lungs burning from the lack of it. Of course, I started seeing black spots already, having been restricted for longer than Seonghwa, but I still tried to squeeze him harder, which wasn’t working out too well. He suddenly released me, making me cough as I sucked in a deep breath, glaring at him. Seonghwa had a crazy glint in his eyes as they had widened and he looked at me with a grin that made my skin erupt in goosebumps.

“Stop it?” He asked with a chuckle, getting all up in my face all of a sudden, making me recoil from him as I avoided eye contact, “You took my compass. For six months I’ve been trying to find you to take it back and you’re still playing games with me. I should’ve killed you in that alleyway.”

My jaw clenched and I mustered up the courage to look at him, “Then why didn’t you? The compass was right there, around my neck—”

I jumped when he punched the wall next to my head, face so close to mine our lips were almost touching, “Where did you put it?”

“I don’t have it with me—”

“Don’t lie to me!” Seonghwa shouted, making me jump as I cursed myself for only have one dagger on me.

“I’m not lying!” I screamed back, “Do you see it around my neck?!”

“No,” Seonghwa chuckled, his demeanor suddenly changing, “because you’re not wearing it.”

“Because I gave it—”

“Don’t make me torture it out of you, Y/N.” The sudden sweet tone mixed with the look in his eyes and the caress of my cheek rendered me speechless as a chill ran down my spine. I gulped and opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn’t. Why would I think he wouldn’t harm me just because I was a woman? Just because he slept with me once. If he was who I feared he was, I needed to get away right now.

“Who are you?” I asked in a whisper, flinching when he gripped my chin and raised my head.

“Park Seonghwa,” He leaned down to be eye level with me, “Quartermaster of Ateez.”

I tried to keep myself composed, not give away anything, but for the first time in my life after the disappearance of my parents, I was scared. Seonghwa watched me closely, a smirk appearing on his lips as I gulped and glared at him, calculating my next move. I didn’t miss the subtle glance at my lips and I couldn’t help but glance at his, trying to distract him in any kind of way, but Seonghwa seemed unimpressed.

“Is that supposed to tell me something?” I feigned ignorance, making Seonghwa chuckle. He looked at the wall past me, sucking in a deep breath, and it was the little momentum I needed to take action. I suddenly gripped his head and headbutted him, making Seonghwa yelp as he stumbled backwards. I pushed him roughly and ran to my bed to grab my bag and leave, but Seonghwa recovered faster than I thought he would. I barely grabbed the bag when Seonghwa composed himself and gripped onto my bun, yanking me backwards. I yelped and held onto his wrists, his tug on my hair making my scalp hurt, but he just pushed me forward, making me fall face first into the bed. I tried to break free, but Seonghwa kept me pinned down by my head.

“It’s in your bag, isn’t it?” He asked amused as we both looked at the disregarded bag on the floor.

“No, it’s not!” My answer came too quickly, making it very obvious that it was there. Seonghwa just chuckled and pulled me up, still holding me by my bun. I took my chance and elbowed him hard in the stomach, but he still didn’t release me. My other dagger was on the nightstand table, so I tried to tug us in that direction, but Seonghwa realized what I was trying to do and stopped me, pulling me against his body.

“Love, will you stop fighting back? It’s quite obvious I’m stronger.” He whispered in my ear and I huffed, stepping on his toes, making him hiss. His grip loosened a bit on my hair and I yanked myself free, whining at the harsh pull of my scalp, but at least I was free. I turned swiftly and slapped Seonghwa hard, making him chuckle as he pushed me with such force that I fell backwards on the bed, him instantly straddling me. My hands went to hold his neck, but he pushed them away and pinned them on both sides my head, chuckling. I tried to kick him or do anything with my legs, but it didn’t do much as the position wasn’t favorable for me.

“Will you give up now?” He asked smugly, leaning closer to my face, “It’s embarrassing how many times I overpowered you in the past few minutes.”

“Aren’t you such a gentleman?” I scoffed, lifting my hips and trying to throw him off balance, but it literally did nothing.

“I would be…if only you deserved it,” He said with a shrug, eyebrows furrowing for a second, “Do you know what we do to those who steal from us?”

I remained silent and just glared at him, making Seonghwa roll his eyes, “We cut their hands off—and then feed them to the sharks.”

I scoffed but said nothing else as I stared up at the ceiling, ceasing my resistance. I had to outsmart him somehow, but nothing I seemed to do was good enough, “Did you ever take your sister to the mainland?”

My eyes snapped to his, mouth falling open at the mention of her. How did he know I had a sister? My heartbeat picked up and I started wriggling around again, huffing and letting out a silent cry when he didn’t budge, “Don’t you dare touch her!”

“Oh, she’ll be safe as long as I get what I want.” Seonghwa said nonchalantly, smiling sweetly. I really needed to give the compass back to him, didn’t I? This was embarrassing. I have never been caught by the person I stole from before. I should’ve just given that damned compass to Mr. Jung when he asked for it, then I wouldn’t be in this predicament.

“I sold it already, Seonghwa.” Yet, I still found myself lying to the man holding me down, “A wealthy man is probably sitting at his desk, marveling at the beauty of that golden compass, meanwhile my pockets are filled to the brim with coins.”

“You didn’t sell it.” Seonghwa muttered, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yes, I did.” I taunted him more, smiling when his eyes darkened and he leaned closer. Just a little bit more, and I could execute my new plan. If brute force wasn’t working on him, I had another way of distracting him.

“No, you didn’t.” Each of his words was sharp, eyes narrowed into slits as he stared at me with hatred and I chuckled, abruptly leaning my head up and smashing my lips against his. Seonghwa made a surprised sound and didn’t kiss back, pulling back instantly, but I caught his lower lip between my teeth, refusing to let him go so quickly. Seonghwa hissed and pulled his head away swiftly, glaring down at me as I licked my lips, looking up at him smugly.

“What?” I chuckled, suddenly easing into the bed, releasing all the tension from my muscles, he looked at me as if I was crazy, “Don’t tell me you didn’t miss me. What else would you be here for?”

“I’m here for my compass!” He exclaimed annoyed and his grip around my wrists turned stronger, but I continued to smile innocently.

“Are you, really? Then why didn’t you take it from me in that alleyway? Why are you here, in my room, on top of me, pinning me down against my bed?” Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched me.

“I’ll tell you why,” I whispered, leaning my head up again, looking him in the eyes with the most alluring expression I could muster up, “because you missed me. Because you’ve been thinking about me just as much as I have been about you. Maybe it was because of the compass at first, but then you remembered the way I felt around your body. The way my lips tasted. The way I moved against you and the sounds I—”

I couldn’t even finish my little taunting because Seonghwa crashed his lips against mine, pushing harshly and kissing me urgently. There was nothing soft in this kiss, just us fighting for dominance and teeth crashing against each other occasionally. I moaned into his mouth when his tongue pressed against mine and noted how his body seemed to soften, rather than pinning me down, he was just keeping me in one place. Taking that to my advantage, I sucked on his tongue, making Seonghwa moan into the kiss as I buckled my hips and swiftly pulled my legs out from underneath him. Seonghwa went to pull away, but I didn’t allow him as I sucked his lower lip between my teeth again and he just pressed his body against mine, melting into me. I hooked my legs around his hips and knew the next thing I needed to do was get him to release at least one of my hands, so I started slowly moving my hips against his, moaning to distract him even more. Seonghwa’s lips moved against mine urgently and I started getting affected by his quiet noises and obvious bulge in his leather pants. But I willed myself to stay focused, and thankfully he fell right into my trap when he went to hold my hips down with his left hand, releasing my wrist. I quickly held onto his nape and pressed our lips even more together, lips slightly hurting from his feverish kisses. I didn’t need my other hand as I held onto his hips tightly with my legs as I suddenly pushed him backwards, flipping us around. I tried to continue kissing him, but Seonghwa gripped my neck firmly, pushing me away. Our lips were touching as we breathed out through our mouths, our breaths hitting each others faces. He held my back with his other hand and sat us up, eyes ablaze as he watched me. I couldn’t escape if he held me so close to himself, so I just kissed him again, waiting for him to let his guard down completely. His soft lips fit perfectly against mine and I found myself moving against him once again, subconsciously this time. Seonghwa whined quietly and I pulled back, but he started kissing down my jaw towards my neck, making me suck in a sharp breath when he bit into my neck, probably cracking my skin. I could feel his body getting comfortable, forgetting what he was here for in the first place, but I didn’t. He’d take the compass whether things continued or not right now. So I did the right thing and allowed my hands to trace his shoulder before they settled around his neck, pretending I was just resting them there.

“Seonghwa.” I whispered in his ear when he started kissing my collarbones, making him look at me. His eyes were hooded and I kissed him again, slowly pushing him down against the bed, stroking his jaw with my finger. His hands held my thighs and he adjusted them before he gripped my bottom and harshly pressed me down against him. I moaned again, body begging for any sort of friction as he started grinding my hips against his, panting against my cheek when I pulled away. This was the perfect timing, I had to do it now or else we’d go further. Seonghwa’s fingers were already undoing my belt, lightly biting my cheek and jaw as I slowly started tightening my grip around his neck, hoping he wouldn’t notice. I kissed him again when his hand made it inside my pants, and suddenly he was caressing my clothed core, making me whine into his mouth. I pressed my forehead against his as he slowly started stroking through my undergarments, cursing in my head and wishing I could continue, but he’d still kill me after this. He’d still take the compass. So, without hesitating anymore, I squeezed my hands around his neck harshly, restricting his airway. Seonghwa’s eyes widened as he looked me in the eyes and quickly held onto my torso, trying to push me off him, but I made sure I was placing my weight in all the places where I knew I could pin him down, render him unable to move. Seonghwa’s eyes filled with hatred again and I bit my lower lip, hating that I was doing this to him, but he gave me no choice.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered, but his eyes conveyed the message that I was dead once he’d wake up. He realized I had overpowered him this time and stopped fighting back, accepting his fate making me almost let go of him out of pity, but I quickly reminded myself that I would be dead if I did so. And if I wasn’t alive, Nari would suffer. So I squeezed until I felt his body going limp and eyes closing, face red from the lack of air. I released him quickly and sat on top of him, checking for a pulse. He was alive, I didn’t have it in me to kill him. A part of me would be devastated if he were to die, and I didn’t know why. There was something different about him, I still remembered his aura the first time we met and perhaps if I hadn’t wronged him, we’d be in a different predicament right now. But I knew I had to leave right now and get as far away from Seonghwa as I could. If he was a part of Ateez, he'd find me no matter what and all I could do was brace myself for when the time comes. And of course, protect my sister from any danger. I got off of him and quickly fixed myself, taking my bag and daggers, and hurrying out the door. I entered Yoona’s room without knocking, she was already asleep and placed her payment on her little desk, taking off next towards the stable to get my horse with only one person in mind. Nari. I had to go back home right now and make sure she was alright, possibly hide her so that Seonghwa wouldn’t find her and threaten me with her ever again.

            I was lucky enough to get to the first boat going to my island in time. It was a man I happened to know, a baker who always traveled between the mainland and our island, bringing freshly baked goods for the people living in the town by the shore. He looked surprised to see me so breathless and tired, but asked no questions as he allowed me on his boat. I had to part from my horse, unfortunately, but I knew the stable boy here would take good care of her, I always left the horse with him when I came home. The poor baker tried to make conversation with me, but he realized I was in a sour mood, restless to get to see my sister so he stopped talking…that is until I asked him if he knew anything about Ateez. And the man knew. He knew a lot about them, in fact, and all the tales he told me about them made me feel sick to my stomach. They were ruthless people. They killed without a reason and they enjoyed taunting people. I couldn’t believe my stupidity. Once Seonghwa found me, I was finished, no doubt. I had heard of the menace Choi San was before, but I never knew he worked together with the pirates. I shuddered when the baker told me they killed his best friend too for refusing to help them out with a little food. They killed him, took all of his belongings and then placed his head on a stick for the whole village to see and know how to act when Ateez asked for something. The incident made the baker move to our island, hoping he’d be free from their terror, and so far, he had never seen them. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that they were closer than he thought, thankful that he gave me a ride. I handed him five pennies when we got off the board and I instantly took off, the walk to my town taking two hours by feet.

The sun was blazing by the time I made it home, well around noon, Nari wouldn’t be home and I couldn’t go to her school to check if she was alright, they didn’t accept visitors during teaching hours. I walked inside the house cautiously and took in the surroundings. Everything was in its place, showing no signs of anyone breaking in. I walked to Nari’s room and saw it was clean, bed made and papers full of poetry scattered around her desk. The house still smelled of omelet, so I knew she was home this morning. I walked to my room and made sure it was empty too, releasing a sigh of relief when everything seemed to be just alright. I unpacked my things and took the compass, walking back into the living room and placed it in a vase sitting on top of the fireplace. I started smelling, so after opening the windows to air out the house and eating some leftovers Nari left in the fridge, I walked outside and prepared some water for me to take a bath in. Our house was the furthest up the hill, nobody was close enough to see or hear us, so sometimes Nari and I would take a bath out in the open, behind the house where a few trees still concealed us. It was rather calming and comforting to take a moment to relax and enjoy that you were alive after tonight’s happenings. We still weren’t safe, but here, at home, I felt safe and protected. Seonghwa had no idea where we lived, so we were good for now. After washing up, I dressed in a white simple flowy dress, allowing my long hair to dry by itself, the wind and warm air drying it quickly up here. When I walked back inside the kitchen, I sat down at the table and noticed a note on the table, left for me. I always returned home the second to last week of the month, so Nari would start leaving notes for me a few days prior in case I returned earlier and she wasn’t home. The note said that she wouldn’t return home today as her and her friend planned a sleepover at her house, the mother inviting Nari over for dinner. I smiled and sighed, glad that Nari was living a simple life, filled with happiness and friends. I never wished for her to live the life I was. Constantly in danger and mostly unhappy. Don’t get me wrong, it was a life filled with adventures and treasures, but sometimes I wished I had someone who supported me and offered me comfort. A person whom I could return to and cuddle up to, rant about my day to and laugh about silly things with. Sometimes I just wished to be loved by someone. I sighed and started cleaning my daggers, pushing my wandering thoughts to the back of my mind, because I couldn’t help but picture Seonghwa as the man who would offer me all of these things. He probably hated me and wanted me dead at the moment, yet here I was fantasizing about us living a regular life.

Once my daggers were crystal clean and shiny, I stood from the table and twirled them around in my hands, gripping them firmly and pretending that I was stabbing someone. I rarely killed people. Only if the situation was dire and I truly had no other choice. So far I had only killed three people and I always felt awful. Sometimes I’d go and pray afterwards, but I knew it was fruitless as the sins I was committing wouldn’t allow me to have a happy afterlife. Shaking my head, I held the daggers and walked out of the kitchen with the intention to head inside my room and take a nap, but I froze once I reached the living room. Seonghwa was leaning against the wall in the doorway of our front door, arms crossed in front of his chest, face pulled up in an irritated expression. My heart started beating quickly and I felt at a loss at the sight of him, all feelings of security disappearing. He found me. It didn’t even take him a day, just merely some hours. The grip on my daggers tightened and I stood up straight, looking at him defiantly.

“Thought you’d never return from your daydreams.” He said mockingly as he pushed off the wall and walked further inside the room. I remained quiet and with my guard up, expecting him to attack at any given moment, “That was a nice little escape method you pulled a few hours go, Y/N, render me speechless.”

I gulped, averting my eyes from his as they burned into mine. My body felt hot all of a sudden and I was ashamed that I still wanted him despite of everything.

“I see you’re not wearing my compass anymore, what a shame…” He offered me a smile, menacing, “I wanted to cut off your head while you were wearing it.”

I tensed, shivering at his words, the scene playing out in my head. The whole living room covered in my blood, head separated from my body, Nari’s screams once she found me dead. I bit my lower lip to try and stop it from trembling and willed myself to try and looked fearless, but I was sure Seonghwa saw right through me as he sat on the sofa.

“So…where’s my compass?” He raised his eyebrows and groaned when I remained silent. His leg was bouncing up and down, he was getting restless. I was playing with fire, prolonging my anguish before my death, “Don’t tell me cat got your tongue all of a sudden, love?”

“I don’t have it, I told you already.” I spoke up, voice low and eyes glaring at him.

“Do you want to watch me destroy your house until I find it and kill you after or do you want to die first and for your sister to return while I search for it, only for me to offer her the same fate I offered you—”

“Leave my sister out of this!” I said menacingly, body shaking from anger as I walked closer to him, my grip turning painful on the daggers.

“It’s dangerous to have weaknesses in a world like ours, love.” I scoffed at his words, smirking at him and pointing a dagger at him.

“You should take your own advice, love.” I snapped back and Seonghwa’s jaw clenched as he stood up, slowly pulling his big knife out of its sheath. He came closer but I kept my distance, and soon we found ourselves walking in a circle.

“So…where is it then?” Seonghwa asked, glancing around the room.

“I don’t know,” I answered, pointing my dagger towards him, “Since you think I still have it, why don’t you go find it yourself?”

Seonghwa chuckled humorlessly, “I’m not in the mood for games, Y/N.”

“And I’m not in the mood to be tormented by you, but I guess we can’t have everything we want in life, Seonghwa.” That seemed to tick him off as he lunged forward, aiming his knife towards my abdomen, but I blocked it with my daggers. I pushed back and slashed towards him, narrowly missing cutting his hand. Seonghwa seemed unimpressed as he attacked again, aiming for the same spot, pissing me off. He was playing with me. He wanted to tire me out so that he’d gain the upper hand, but I wasn’t having none of it and charged towards him, fiercely attacking him with my daggers. He was quite good with his knife as he blocked all of my blows, fast on his feet and somehow always knowing my next move. He was pissing me off and I was starting to get frustrated as he managed to make a small gash on the skirt of the dress. He smirked when I huffed and as I jumped forward, his knife suddenly disappeared from his hands and he blocked my blows with his arms, managing to push me and take me off balance ,as I fell against the wall. I gave him a glare and jumped forward, attempting to strike him again, when suddenly the knife was in his hand and all I felt at first was the burn of my skin on my left lower arm, blood slowly oozing out. I gasped at the pain and looked down, blood dropping on the floor and even tainting my white dress. When I looked back at Seonghwa he was smirking and I jumped forward, only one dagger in hand as I dropped the other one due to the pain, and managed to slice Seonghwa’s cheek as he wasn’t fast enough when he tried to dodge my attack. He wasted no second jumping towards me and slamming me against the wall, making me groan loudly when my shoulder got hurt again. I swear to God, nobody even needs to kill me, at this point my injuries will do just that. But I reacted quickly and punched him in the jaw with my left hand, ignoring the pain, making Seonghwa hiss as his head turned in the opposite direction from the blow. He was breathing hard as he turned his head to look at me and he slapped me back, making me gasp.

“What? You can punch me but I can’t slap you?” He mocked and I clenched my jaw, ignoring the slight sting of my cheek, “I thought we were playing fair.”

I growled and kicked his hip, making him stumble backwards and almost fall, but he managed to catch himself in the wardrobe, pulling himself back up. I charged toward him and raised my dagger, but he blocked it with his knife, our faces close when he grabbed me by the hip and pulled me in, eyes falling onto my lips. I scoffed and pushed him off, but he grabbed my arm and squeezed hard as he flung me against the wall, my forehead crashing into it this time, making me hiss as I saw dark spots all around me. My concussion would beat Seonghwa to killing me. I was breathing hard as I tried to gain focus, having been thrown against the wall, again. It was starting to take a tool on me, the pointless tousling and teasing. I did not like fighting this way. I liked getting straight to the point, getting what I wanted. I never played around with my prey, but Seonghwa seemed to enjoy it as a wide smirk decorated his lips, his strides long and slow as he came closer, almost caging me against the wall. I huffed in irritation as he raised my chin with the tip of his very sharp knife, our eyes finding each other’s. Seonghwa was breathing hard too, lips parted and forehead sweaty as his long wavy black hair fell into his sharp eyes, his ponytail messy. His eyes held an intensity which was capable of making me surrender to him, but I stayed collected. Not this time, I wouldn’t give in. My lower left arm was burning from the huge gash Seonghwa’s knife made and I couldn’t ignore the blood dripping down his cheek where I had cut him just minutes ago.

“You could have made this so easy and quick for yourself, Y/N.” His voice dripped with venom and I gulped when his knife pressed harder against my skin, lightly grazing against my neck.

“I like to play around,” I muttered and forced out a chuckle, ignoring the quick pounding of my heart, “But you know that already.”

“Too well.” He snapped and I gasped when I felt blood trickling down the side of my neck, skin slightly burning. He really meant it this time that he’d kill me if I didn’t give back what was his. All of this fiasco for a damned compass. I glared at him and in a swift moment pressed my own dagger against his torso, ripping his shirt open and making it clear that if he were to slice my throat I wouldn’t hesitate in sticking my own weapon into him.

“How are you going to find the compass if you kill me, Seonghwa?” I taunted, mimicking his tone when he said my name. For a split second his eyes turned into slits and I was sure he would kill me right then and there, but the pressure of the knife from my neck disappeared and I felt the lump in my throat disappearing as well. It didn’t mean I was safe, it just meant I wasn’t getting my throat slit open. I lowered my dagger from his torso as well and tried to come up with an escape plan fast. The window was open, if I kicked him hard enough to get him to double over, I could run to the window and jump out. I knew where my sister’s friend lived, I would go there and take her with me. Going into hiding was a must right now.

“Where is it?!” Seonghwa’s voice slightly trembled from anger and I looked behind him, eyeing the window.

I shrugged before looking back at him, having decided what my next move would be, “I don’t know, want to play a game to find out?” And before he could answer, I punched him hard in the jaw, making him stumble backwards. He was flabbergasted as he looked back at me, wiping the blood from his lips, but before he could charge at me, I kneeled him in the stomach, hard. Seonghwa doubled over instantly and started wheezing, face contorted in pain. I didn’t necessarily liked hurting him and I found myself hesitating for a second before I snapped out of it and made a run for the window. The room wasn’t big, I could easily make it out and get away from Seonghwa. But I heard groaning from behind and as I latched onto the window sill, ready to jump over, a hand was suddenly in my long hair, fisting it. I was yanked back harshly and I yelped, eyebrows furrowing as Seonghwa held me flushed against his body, pulling on my hair so hard I thought he’d leave me with a bald spot. I went to fight back, but he grabbed my neck from behind with his left hand, but he didn’t squeeze. He secured me in a firm grip, warning me. I gulped and listened to our rapid breathing, Seonghwa’s chest rising and falling quickly against my back. His body hadn’t changed at all. He was still as sturdy as before, even felt like he had gotten stronger.

“Let me go.” I snapped and turned my head to the side, trying to look at him. Seonghwa watched my face for a second, taking it in, before he blinked and his gaze turned cold. I couldn’t pretend like the warmth of his body and the grip he had on me wasn’t affecting me, but my self-respect would never let me tell him. I had already admitted to thinking about him often back at the Inn.

“I prepared a little surprise for you,” Seonghwa whispered in my ear, my eyes fluttering for a second, before he harshly turned my head towards the window, making me watch what was happening outside. And my whole blood ran cold in me. I froze, almost unable to breathe. My little sister was walking outside, singing to herself as she played around with a pebble. The sight that terrified me wasn’t her being home despite her saying she’d spend the day at her friend, it was the man dressed in all black with a rag covering his lower face following her, knife held very obviously in one hand. Nari was oblivious to him and he was getting closer and closer to her.

“Stop!” My voice raised and I tried to wriggle myself free from Seonghwa’s grip. The man following my little sister, Nari, was Choi San, a ruthless mercenary. She stood no chance against him, I couldn’t stand here and watch as San kills my little sister, the only family I have left.

“Stop him,” I begged Seonghwa as I stopped trying to get away from him, “please tell him to stop. I will give you anything you want, Seonghwa, please don’t let him hurt Nari.” I knew now the two worked together. Seonghwa was the Quartermaster of a very infamous pirate crew whom had been terrorizing the four kingdoms and four seas for a decade now and everyone knew what they were capable of. Even I did now. I would’ve never thought Seonghwa was smart enough to find me as I barely came home, once a week every month, but seeing San trailing my sister woke me up to the reality of the predicament I found myself in. I was careless and dumb; I stole from someone whom I should’ve never messed with.

Seonghwa chuckled and I felt his hot breath on my cheek before he whispered in my ear again, “Never thought I’d hear you begging, love.” And without another word, he whistled loudly and I watched as San placed his knife up his sleeve and turned around, walking off, my sister oblivious to everything that could’ve happened to her due to my stupidity.

“Now, give me my compass.”

And I knew I had to do just that. No more games, no more taunting. Pride placed aside, I waited patiently for Seonghwa to release me and after a second of silence, he did just that. I sucked in a shaky breath and turned to face him, our eyes meeting. My heart was beating like crazy and I was terrified for my sister, but I still managed to give him a glare for even daring to threaten me by harming her. Seonghwa looked back with the same intensity, wanting his compass back right now as he watched me closely when I started walking towards the vase I had hidden it inside. I placed my dagger on the fireplace, not needing it anymore, before I reached inside the vase, fingers touching the golden treasure.

“Will you kill me once I hand you the compass back?” I found myself wondering out loud, hands slightly shaking. Seonghwa remained quiet but I could feel his gaze burning the back of my head, so I just gulped and spoke up again, “Whatever, I don’t care what you do to me as long as you leave my sister out of this. She doesn’t even know I’m a thief, she thinks I work for a wealthy family on the mainland.”

I gripped the compass and took it out of the vase with a sigh, turning around to hand it to Seonghwa, but he was already standing in front of me, making me jump. He looked down at my hand and gripped the compass, ripping it out of my hold. I gulped and watched his expression closely as his eyebrows furrowed, clutching the compass with both hands. He raised it up to his eyes and consulted it closely, hands slightly trembling as he opened it. A sense of relief seemed to wash over his face as he touched the inside of the compass and then suddenly looked at me. I tensed and averted my eyes from his.

“Why did you steal it if you didn’t sell it?” He asked in a whisper and my eyebrows furrowed, feeling uncomfortable by his question. I noticed how numb my lower arm started feeling from the big cut and that the back of my head was thumping violently again.

“I don’t know—” I muttered, wetting my lips as I looked back up in his eyes, “I just—I couldn’t. When I saw the name on the inside I just—I just had a feeling it was a very personal item. I guess…I didn’t have it in me to get rid of it.”

Seonghwa remained silent as he looked down at me and I felt even more guilty when his eyes filled with tears. Why was he the one on the verge of crying? He was about to kill me any minute.

“You have no idea how much this compass means to me, Y/N.” He muttered with a sigh, closing it and placing it around his neck. It looked beautiful. It complimented his complexion and I found myself mesmerized by the man standing in front of me. All the hatred and roughness was gone, the Seonghwa I met the first time was the one standing in front of me. Soft and kind.

“I’m—” I gulped, feeling weird for apologizing, “I’m sorry.”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened slightly and his jaw clenched as his eyes traveled over my face, analyzing whether I meant it or not. And I did, I was genuine with my apology, I shouldn’t have taken it.

“You could’ve given it back the first time I asked for it, you know.” Seonghwa’s eyebrow raised and I looked away embarrassed.

“A thief getting caught and then forced to hand back the treasure is quite humiliating, Seonghwa.” I muttered, looking at him startled when he gripped my chin and turned my head to face his, “When I took it I had no idea who you were, so I thought I could get rid of you fast.”

Seonghwa chuckled and leaned down, eyes at the same level as mine, “I would’ve never thought you were this silly, love.”

“Are you going to kill me?” I whispered as I bit my lower lip, Seonghwa’s eyes falling on them. He shook his head wordlessly, looking back in my eyes when I gasped quietly, “Why not?”

“For the same reason you didn’t sell my compass.” He whispered back and my heart somersaulted when he pressed his soft lips against mine, holding the side of my neck firmly as I kissed him back feverlishly, holding his nape to pull him closer. I had no idea if he figured out that I had taken a fancy to him, but his kiss felt weirdly loving. I allowed this unknown warm feeling overtake my body as Seonghwa proceeded to pull me into himself, almost engulfing me in a hug as he pulled away only to press two more kisses against my lips, making me blush against my will. I refused to open my eyes, embarrassed and shy at the same time, when Seonghwa chuckled and stroked my lower lip with his thumb.

“Who’s Bu Seolhwa?” I whispered, making Seonghwa sigh.

“My mother.” I opened my eyes and looked at him surprised, the rumors said he was an orphan, “I found out five years ago where I come from and who she is. But that’s all I know.”

“Let me help you,” I blurted out before thinking more about it, making Seonghwa raise his eyebrows in surprise, “I mean—I know a lot of people from different circles and ranks. I could help you find her…if you want me to, of course.”

Seonghwa smiled and pulled away, making me yearn for his touch, it was so silly, “Alright, love, at least I’ll have an excuse to see you each month.”

I chuckled and looked away embarrassed, watching him collect his knife as he walked towards the front door, “I’ll see you second to last week of the next month here, love, don’t do anything crazy until then because I won’t be able to save you.”

My jaw dropped as I ran up to the door, watching him leave. He turned back with a cheeky smile and winked as Nari and him crossed paths, she was rather close to the house, good thing we stopped fighting. But how did Seonghwa know when was I home? For just how long has he been keeping an eye on me?

“Y/N?” I heard my sister’s excited voice call out, “You’re home early!”

And I allowed my eyes to fall on my little sister as she ran up to me, completely ignoring the state I was in as she hugged me. My body felt frail in her arms and I allowed myself to breathe in and breathe out, thankful that she was safe and in my arms. My eyes fell back on Seonghwa’s retreating form and I found myself smiling, curious of what the future held for us.

“Who was that man?” Nari asked as she pulled her head back and looked up at me, she was at least two heads shorter than me.

“Just a friend.” I answered her and ruffled her bangs, stepping out of her embrace, “The house is a mess because—”

“Don’t worry, you can clean that up yourself,” She grinned cheekily as she ran inside the house, “I’m only home because I forgot Joohyun’s bracelet at home, I’m still sleeping over at hers.”

“I see.” I muttered and shook my head, cursing the heavens for letting her forget such thing today of all days. But it was alright, because in the end I took care of it. Because in the end, I would do anything to keep her safe and myself alive.

And because maybe Seonghwa would kill anyone who dared harm us.

Next part (divider)

[breakyourrxles]

❥déjà vu (m)

↳ One year after the fulfillment of a particularly raunchy agreement with your best friends husband, the three of you once again find yourselves together over a bottle of pinot noir, an appetizer, and an unforeseen question laid out on the table:

If you could do it all again, would you?

kim doyoung x fem!reader — friends with benefits, gratuitous sexual content, porn with plot [21k wc] cws: open relationship, alcohol consumption, bdsm-heavy!! dominant doyoung, submissive reader, restraints, impact play, slapping, dom-drop+aftercare, unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (m+f), gratuitous dirty talk/degradation/humiliation, cum play/facials/wet&messy, deep throating, safe word usage, ravishment play, infidelity play, spit play, doyoung has a big dick and fucks like a pornstar.

In the dimly lit ambiance of the swanky restaurant that you and your present company currently reside, and over the dull, pleasant hum of the chatter of the surround patrons, you suppose you can't help but reminisce, just a little bit.

One year.

Not on the dot, a few weeks give or take since the beginning of one such agreement, but nevertheless a time in your life that you've found yourself recalling perhaps a few more times than you'd care to admit. Admit to yourself, and especially to aforementioned present company.

You bring yourself back from the thought just in time to make eye contact with the man across the table from you — a knowing collection of features gracing his face, of course, he doesn't know the ins and outs of whatever it is that happens to take your attention in the moment, but rather, just that there had been something to stir you away from the present. The ringing laughter of your best friend just next to him finally coming into earshot to let you know that the two had been engaged in some other conversation that you must have tuned out slightly, you watch her snake an arm around his as his preoccupied one continues to top off your glass of red wine.

Thankfully, third-wheeling with the couple has become far more comfortable, though, you suppose you know what the reason for that may be.

Mina, with blonde hair tied back into a ponytail and a black sweater on — it must have been the evening for couple outfits, as Doyoung sports just about the same, minus the blonde hair, instead sporting his usual black with seemingly no interest in ever changing his look.

"I'm so annoyed I have to go on this business trip at all," Mina huffs, across the table and next to her husband. "But they did say that I would need to be gone like this occasionally when I took it, so hopefully it can be done and over with as quickly as possible, at least."

"How long was it, again?" You ask, fork gently pressed between your lips to clean it off.

She rolls her eyes as the response begins to leave her. "A month. I don't know what he's going to do without me."

Playful in nature, Mina cozies up with Doyoung next to her as she says it, to which he merely offers a roll of his own eyes before audibly inhaling to response. "Surely I can manage."

"He'll probably just work the whole time, anyways," You add. Your friend nods knowingly. "Aren't you writing a book?"

Lips to his glass, he begins speaking into at the tail end of his sip before placing it back onto the table to carry on with the thought. "It's finished. Loose ends here or there but mostly done. Back to the usual workload, now."

Humming, you carefully shovel another forkful of pasta into your mouth before your vision catches on Mina — a certain gleam in her eye that you know all too well by now to mean that the woman be up to no good, you slow in your motions as you maintain your eyes upon her in wait for what it is that she almost certainly be about to unload on either of you in the middle of this far-too-expensive restaurant.

"Actually," she starts with a jingle to her tone. Eyes now averted from either of you, she still maintains the wicked upturn of the corners of her lips as she hesitates only slightly before finishing the sentence with little more presented to either of you. "I kind of wanted to talk to you about something—"

"Who?"

The word drops from both you and Doyoung simultaneously, and as a result, pulls a resonating chuckle from the woman.

"Well, both of you."

Uh-oh.

Doyoung, once having had his head turned towards his wife, now slowly pulls his vision ahead again, but not without narrow, questioning eyes still remaining to his side as if suspecting her being up to no-good. For good reason, as well, because you maintain the same amount of surveillance on her in wait for what it is that she's about to bestow.

Like a villain sitting in her evil, hands twisting within themselves for all of the devilishness that be about to transpire as a result of her.

"I have an idea."

"Well, that much we can tell, you only get like this when you have one of your ideas," Doyoung can't help but quip back immediately. A man lovingly fed up with all of the nonsense that his wife bring to his life, while no doubt being a large part of the reason that he love her in the first place. "So, what is it, then?"

"No fun, as usual." She sighs before taking a hastened sip from her own glass of wine. Then, her attention turns almost exclusively towards you, as if equally fed up with the way that her husband be behaving in regards to her unknown genius. "Since I'm going to be gone so long, I was thinking — why don't you come stay at the house?"

A shocked, resounding ‘what!?’ coming from both you and the husband in question, once again.

Of course, Mina only laughs at the response from you two with a gentle shake of her head to top it off.

You don't entirely know what to make of the offer, and frankly, you're a little bit too afraid to ask. Instead, you're thankful for Doyoung's bluntness, and perhaps also his familiarity in navigating these particular waters with his wife — because you think you know what she's suggesting, but he most certainly will be the one to ask the question out loud.

"Are you suggesting another arrangement while you're gone?"

"Yeah, why not?" She chimes back as if it be the most normal thing in the world. That it be bizarre for anyone to so much as question it further. "It's a whole month, darling."

"Fairly certain I can keep myself busy enough to not die without having sex for a month."

In ways, this conversation not really involve you currently. Should it play out a specific way, suppose then your input be necessary, but for now: this is between the betrothed.

Mina finally turns in the booth to face him better, but Doyoung insists on maintaining his calculated stature in facing forward and staring out towards the nothingness of the restaurant. He's difficult to read in moments like this; unable to discern if he's upset by the proposition, the potential implications of it, or if he's interested and just unwilling to come of all too eager, and especially in front of you.

After all, the last time sure did end off with a bang, of sorts.

"Are you mad at me?" She asks cutely, as if knowing the answer already. A woman who knows her husbands buttons well, as he turns to give her his full, undivided attention almost the moment that the last syllable drops from her mouth.

"No! I'm not mad, it's just," he pauses, thinking through his word choice carefully as a result of present company, you're sure. "I thought we all agreed that it was a one time thing."

"Then say you're not interested and I'll drop it."

For a split second, Doyoung's eyes catch your own, but he pulls them back and away from you nearly just as swiftly.

You don't think you've ever seen him like this. So...flustered?

Swallowing so hard you watch the lump in his throat bob, Doyoung cocks his head to the side once as if stretching for the marathon of a conversation that his acquiescence to this may just result in. A marathon, indeed, because there would certainly be a whole load more negotiations to take place for a month of who-knows-what-really.

Hesitancy to admit that he's interested in the arrangement. Reluctance to admit it outright without seeming all too eager to re-engage. Tricky waters for the husband in question to navigate, certainly.

Eyes fluttering shut, he sighs. "I'm not against it, just...surprised."

And unfortunately, that means it's your turn now.

Both of their attention now turning to you just as the waiter comes and brings the bill to your table, you feel the heat of embarrassment rush to your face — as if this stranger be privy to the topics ongoing currently — you chuckle nervously as you take the paper in hand, only for Doyoung to just as swiftly tear it away from you before you have so much as a second to consider paying it yourself.

"Well?" Mina questions, chin resting inside of her palm as an elbow settles against the waxed wood of the table top.

For whatever reason, you choose not to acknowledge the man any further as you think through your answer. Assuming him far too busy calculating incredibly simple math especially for someone with a career in finance, all you are capable of is simply thinking him all too enamored in that to be paying any interest or mind to what your response to this question could be. So, with eyes glued to the table in front of you, you muster up all of the courage that you can, while simultaneously biting back the bubbling excitement that you're not too proud of having, before finally giving your best friend your full attention and giving the answer that you think be the one that everyone at the table be looking forward to hearing from you.

"Yeah. I'm down."

Three weeks later, you bring your belongings for your extended stay over to the house that you find already to be comfortable.

There's a certain air about it: a place that you've already spent countless days and nights at, but knowing the circumstances under which you're back inside of their humble abode offering a new set of eyes that you have long since abandoned since a year or so back. Kitchen countertops and upstairs walls that serve as reminders of all sorts of goings on between you and the man of the house — perhaps things you may find yourself revisiting as well as new, unexplored areas with him — there's an excitement within you that now takes the place of any uncertainty or reluctance the first time around.

Because you know Doyoung, and you trust him completely.

Dragging a large suitcase inside, as well as an over-the-shoulder bag and a laptop bag for work, you carefully set your belongings down on the white, marble flooring of the home as you listen for the nearing sounds of footsteps hurrying down the upstairs hallway and towards you. Mina tips over the railing with a bright, cheerful smile — somehow the happiest of the three of you about the way that things are going to carry out for the next thirty days.

"You're here! Doie! She's here!"

Of course, you don't hear from the man, and instead your friend rushes herself down the stairs and into your arms with a wide, tight hug.

"I'm also hungry, I hope there's food in this house," You playfully respond, but before Mina has the chance, Doyoung retorts plainly from the same railing that Mina had been lovingly doting on you only minutes before.

"Suppose I'm expected to keep you fed then, as well."

"Yes, dear," Mina dryly answers with a huff over her shoulder. "Feed and fuck her, that's the agreement."

It being so simply discussed out in the open perhaps something you may never grow completely comfortable with, and with eyes glancing upwards to gauge the mans response as a result of his wife’s words, Doyoung's eyes only roll before sauntering down the stairway just the same as the woman had.

"Are you going to make dinner tonight?" Mina questions as he arrives just behind her. Hands in pockets, he shrugs rather nonchalantly, as if it make no difference to him either way. "I could."

He meets eyes with you, a single eyebrow raising. "Should I?"

"Uh, yeah," you hesitate in response, arms still wrapped around his wife as the conversation carries on. "That'd be really nice."

"I'll go prep then while the two of you say your goodbyes."

And before exiting the scene, Doyoung leans forward and around to kiss Mina — her still very much attached from you, it results in a very full, somewhat-intimate moment that you're all too included in. Unsure if they simply not be aware of your proximity or just as much not care, you swallow and glance away until they're finished — Doyoung's eyes once again catching onto your own before he pulls away from the blonde woman and disappears inside of the kitchen just down the hall.

Shortly there after, Mina separates herself from you, as well. Bags already packed and set aside by the door, you ask her if she need any help in bringing her things out to while she protests, and simply tells you to go and enjoy your stay...

...as well as 'all of the things that the stay has to offer.'

You're not sure if you should feel guilty for the amount of anticipation you've been holding back ever since the initial conversation, but you can't help but wishing for the woman to hurry herself out of the residence, even just a little bit.

You love her, of course, and if her being there instead were an option you would happily choose that ahead of your own interests.

But it's not an option, and frankly, you want to fuck her husband again. No real need to beat around the bush about it, this time.

Two hours after the wife’s departure, the scent of dinner brewing emanates throughout the lower level of the residency that you're now expected to call 'home' for the next month. Surrounded by familiar, white walls and granite countertops, the tall man within be laid with the multitasking of dinner-making while you carry out the finishing touches of table setting. One hand carefully cupped around the tip of the last candle, you hold the lighter against the wick for the fire to catch, and pulling away, you glance over the handy work that you've done in the meantime as you wait for the food to finish cooking. With a heavy sigh coming from Doyoung, you glance over only to find him missing momentarily — popping up from his presumed kneeling position in front of the small, compact wine cooler with a bottle of white in hand.

"Are you going to get changed?"

His expression is somewhat deadpan, which you suppose is to be a bit expected of him, but the question definitely coming from out of left field given your lack of knowledge of even being expected to wear something other than what it is that you had arrived in.

Was this...a date?

Stammering slightly, you do some quick, on your feet thinking about anything that you may have easily accessible in one of your bags that not require a whole lot of putting together in the last minute. "Yeah, give me a second."

Nearly jogging out of the dining room, you hear the man loudly and in your direction. "Make it quick, dinner's in ten."

Pulling a loose, casual dress from your bag and quickly bringing yourself upstairs and into the guest bedroom that you're now to call your own, you can't help but divert your attention down the hall to the shared bedroom of the wedded couple, with one, main rule bestowed upon you by Mina days before your arrival. Her only request of the two of you and your adventures together while she be gone:

Never in their shared room.

No interest in breaking such a rule, instead, you think it charming as you disrobe quickly to change into something more fitting for the evening together. That even in all of the things the couple be willing to share in their marriage, some things still remain off limits, and only for them.

As you re-enter the kitchen area, you catch Doyoung as he pull his apron off from around his neck. Long, thin finger deftly working at the tie around his small waist in a way that reminds you of precisely the way that the mans body look: broad shoulders cinching so snugly at the middle — accentuated by the way fitted trousers and belt hug him and pull at the loose fabric of his button down shirt — he catches you looking well before you find enough awareness to bring your eyes away, and a flush of heat settles at just the tips of your ears as a result of being found out in such a way.

He says nothing, however, instead carrying on with the task of setting the discarded item onto the back of a chair and nodding towards the glass dinner table. "It's ready."

Walking steadily behind him, you realize that the close proximity of the both of you in such a way having long since reignited a sort of burning passion within you for the man — with eyes cascading over his shoulders and back as he bring himself forward, you feel the first, all too evident throb of arousal between your legs that you know, for a fact, you can't possibly place blame on anything else.

When the original agreement had come to a close, you accepted as much happily. A good, positive, growing experience for you in so many ways, but more than that, you were satisfied. Not just sexually, but with your relationships, your life, and your choices. Within the closure came a certain kind of acceptance of yourself in ways that you had never had the opportunity to find before, and now with the re-opening of it, what you really hope to find is more of that.

More acceptance, more trust.

In ways the nature of such agreement never truly able to be just about sex. You can't speak for him, but for you, so much more to be learned and experienced.

Reaching the clear end of the table, majority of the things residing atop it placed further down to accommodate the fact that only two people be sitting there this evening, Doyoung stops so abruptly in his tracks that you nearly collide straight into him — hands coming up to steady yourself and set space between the two of your bodies, it turns into a bit of a whirlwind, however, when you feel the familiar grip of fingers coming around one of your wrists and pulling you forward and in front of the man.

You don't get much more time between then and the few seconds following: expertly placed up and on top of the glass with your legs pried apart to make room for the man between them.

The first kiss comes equally hard and fast, as well.

Nipping into your bottom lip, you don't need much help navigating these particular waters as your hands already make quick work of his belt, followed shortly thereafter by the button and zipper of his black trousers — with such little time passed and a palm pressed against the front of his pants, you find only the beginnings of an erection forming, enough to have you groaning into his mouth with promise of what's to come all of the same, however.

A master of his craft, Doyoung having already pressed the majority of the length of your dress up your hips upon hoisting you onto the table, he dips a single finger down the front of your panties and between your folds, as if to test the waters already. From your position, it's easy to feel the ease in which he glides against you due to the slickness already presented to him — your reward thus far? An absolutely wicked groan of his own through teeth that bite down just a little bit harder into your lip.

"God, how long have you wanted this?" He says with a low tone, words delivered directly into your open mouth as you gasp for air at the feeling of him rubbing gentle circles into your clit just the way he knows you like it. "You're so wet already. You still think about it, huh?"

Less interested in playing games and more willing to be a far more active participant this time around — leaving behind the shyness and apprehension that came along with the completely uncharted waters of the first time — you tilt your head back just slightly and grin, taking in the feeling of him all over again.

"Yeah, I do," you answer with airy confidence. "Don't you?"

"Fuck yes I do."

Words coming through in nearly a growl, Doyoung drags his mouth down along your jaw to suck into the skin all of the way down your neck before settling into the juncture of your shoulder. Pointed sucks and nips into the skin there as if a man truly starved for your touch, you feel him pull you forward and tilt you back just slightly — adjusting the angle of your body so that the fingers teasing you can slip down further — middle finger gliding so easily inside of you, he gives you three pumps of it before adding a second to see how much you need to be prepped for him.

The answer is very little.

Barely any resistance brought to him as he fucks you open with his fingers, you lean back with one palm against the glass behind you to remain stable as the other fishes out his length from behind the confines of the fabric holding it. Long and beautiful, just like you remembered, you run the palm of your hand up the underside of his shaft before delicately wrapping fingers around him and offering him a few lazy strokes; for no other reason than to hear the way his breath hitches just beneath your ear as his mouth carries on its journey back up that way.

As the man carefully creates enough space between your bodies to hook fingers into the sides of your undergarment and pull it down your legs, as he quickly presses his own pants down his thighs just enough to not be a deterrent, you can't help but notice the palpable urgency that this instance carries: a man known for his intensity and ability to maintain stoicism even in the face of erotic desire, this time you find him nearly unrecognizable from any of the times before. No roles between you, no power dynamics at play.

Just two people and raw, sexual desire.

Forearms hooked up and under your legs for leverage, you reach down to him to angle and ease him inside of you with one, smooth drive of his hips — sinking into you with heavy, contented sighs dropping from the both of your mouths at the feeling of each other. Rocking into you shallowly two, three times, it's only then that Doyoung reach his hand up to grasp the side of your neck as if to hold you there, in place, and with all eyes on him, as well.

Pulling the leg still in his grasp up and tightly against the side of his body, he offers you a quick, hard, snap of his hips that finally has you feeling exactly how it is that you want him to make you feel.

Crying out, he settles his forehead against your own, looking you dead in the eyes as he offers another hard drive of his cock into you. The angle is just right for him to graze your g-spot with intense pressure, and already, you feel your thighs quaking around him at the sudden onset of it.

He starts slow, but is quick to find his pace against you, all the while holding you firm in his gasp for just the right amount of leverage that every forceful thrust into you be received with the utmost impact.

You had forgotten how easily he's able to have to falling apart under, and around him.

Electric intensity coursing through every nerve ending, toes curling as your moans quickly dissolve into pathetic whimpers, you feel the prickling of wetness threatening your tear ducts as you bite hard into your bottom lip in an attempt to bring yourself back, even just a little bit.

It's the first time, and relatively vanilla, at that. This man can not have you withering like this already, it's humiliating.

With his jaw tight and teeth gritted as he stairs down towards you, you whine out as the hand around your neck snakes up just ever so slightly and into the hair at the back of your head — fist clenching tight within the strands, and it's only then that Doyoung break his gaze with you and trail hot, dry lips down to the shell of your ear.

"Thought I forgot what you like?" He asks with a drop of venom to his tone. "Don't want to ruin you just yet, we still have dinner to eat."

There's that nasty mouth you had grown to love a year ago.

With impending orgasm on the horizon that no doubt that man inside of you can feel, he trades in shorter, quicker drives into you for fuller, longer ones — offering you the feeling of the entirety of his cock with every snap of his hips, and it's really then that you realize that Doyoung have your likes a little bit too under his thumb for your liking.

But only as far as ego goes. Physically, you already find yourself lamenting the day in which this must once again come to an end.

Walls clenching down around him, Doyoung hisses into your ear as you bite back the full, long moan of an orgasm that's soon to shake you, and dipping down only long enough to nip and suck into the skin below your ear, he brings his mouth back up to it right as you're on the verge of your release.

"How about you make me come, so that I can lick it out of you for dessert."

And that will certainly do the trick.

Yelling out so loudly that you're happy to know that the two of you home alone and on a plot of land large enough that neighbors not be a concern, your orgasm rips through you, so desperate to grip onto something that one hand come up to curl fingers into Doyoung's forearm as he hold you by the hair in place for him to fuck into. Bringing his head up to look at you, as if the unsure about the motion and having to check in on the goings on visually — happy with the scene as your eyes roll back into harshly knitted eyebrows, you hear him groan from the chest — full-bodied and throaty as he comes as well with only a handful more drives into you before burying his cock entirely to empty his load inside of you.

The familiar twitch of him as he comes — mouth delicately hung ajar and looking down at the place where he disappears inside of you — a simple man who enjoy all of the carnal pleasures that sex offer him as much as any other. Prim, proper, put together on the outside but when given the chance, a man willing to say and do the the nastiest, filthiest things to and for a partner...for the both of your enjoyment.

The wetter, the messier — the better it is, for you and him, alike.

And as the two of you sit together for dinner only moments after, discussing the trials and tribulations of adult, workload life — with his cum dripping from your cunt and soaking into your panties, you know one thing is for sure, and that is that whatever is left of it inside of you by the time you two are finished here, he most certainly will be making good on his promise of dessert.

Waking up in the morning feels strange, even under the circumstances of a fake-dating agreement.

On one hand, it makes sense: preferring to sleep in the comfort of ones own bed, but as you lie awake, staring at the while ceiling above and listening to the hum of the dehumidifier that stand tucked away in the furthest corner of the room, you can't help but feel something. Some way about it.

However, it is early into the scenario — only day two, so perhaps it best to allow these feelings of uncertainty lie dormant for just a little while longer — given time to manifest into something if they ever are to, before bringing it to the attention of the man of the house.

Would it be a strange request? All things considered and through all of the other goings on, could something as quaint as the request to be slept next to be one unspoken hard limit for the husband in question?

A single, hard blink has you putting the thought out of your mind in exchange for rolling over to face the window as the delicate blanketing of morning rays wash over your frame. Snagging your phone from off of the nightstand, you check the time only to be be shocked by how early it is — only a bit past six — you come to realize that it explain the sound of rustling from downstairs that you originally thought to be nothing but the typical sounds of a house in the night.

For a moment, you contemplate attempting to go back to sleep, rolling onto your back once again and sprawling across as much of the expanse of the much-too-large furniture as you can possibly manage. Instead, it's the sound of the espresso machine ringing loudly through the residence that has you reconsidering your options.

Footsteps climbing the stairs, you can't help but listen in on the way that the man moves about when not in the company of you or others. Sounding as if he is, however, you hear him on the phone to someone or another — displeased at best, as well, given the strength to his voice despite being unable to make out the words. Shuffling around his office briefly only to disappear back down to the lower level, you decide then that you much too curious about Doyoung in a way that you hadn't quite expected: him as a person, him as an employee, him detached from sexuality almost entirely.

Feet into slippers and a light robe over your shoulders, you quietly tip-toe your way down to the kitchen where it seem that the majority of the early morning happenings be taking place — as you make your way closer, the distinct scent of coffee brewing and and continued sounds of an irritated man, none too thrilled about the conversation taking place, but it's only when you reach the nearest entryway and your presence demands his attention, that you feel as though you may have been walking into more than you had thought to be signing up for.

Black hair styled and slicked back with a gray suit adorning him — it would appear normal, given his occupation, if not for one, glaring, difference to the typical business attire.

No shirt worn underneath the jacket, instead, you find yourself faced with the expanse of smooth skin that you're already well acquainted with, sure.

But not like this?

Your being there appears to fluster him slightly as he turns his back towards you quickly and cusses under his breath despite still being on the phone. Informing the person on the other line that he'll call them back, you watch with a sort of innocent enjoyment as Doyoung pulls the jacket closed before turning to face you again.

"What are you doing awake?" He all but stutters out, a good attempt at maintaining his vocal balance through his embarrassment, you have to give it to him.

With a single eyebrow perked upwards, you offer him nothing more than a gentle grin at first, slipping through the doorway finally and pulling a mug down from one of the higher cupboards to pour yourself a cup of coffee. "I don't sleep so well in new places, it'll take a couple of days to get used to a new bed."

You can't be sure if ignoring the elephant in the room be what he desire right then and there, or if instead it only lending to more awkwardness — so, you make a judgment call then and there as you turn to seat yourself at the kitchen island and hopping into one of the tall stools that reside there.

"So—"

"Don't." He immediately interjects with screwed shut eyes and a palm up towards you.

A small giggle escapes your mouth at his insistence, but beyond that, you choose to let it lie as you quietly scroll through your phone. Doyoung, however, not as easily placated — shuffling around nervously in place, and if you didn't know any better, you might think him to be irritated at your lack of insistence further.

"It's not what it looks like."

Glancing up towards him, you blink once. "I assure you that I have no idea what it looks like."

It's the truth, because after all: what the fuck?

Rolling his eyes and accepting defeat, the man grabs his mug from behind him and seats himself across the way from you with phone in hand as if waiting for a call that he intend on answering the absolute second that it begins coming through.

"So, you know I wrote a book."

You nod.

"Publisher wants me to do some promotional photos for it, now I get word last minute that the photographer isn't coming and they're having a hard time finding someone who can make it all of the way out here in time."

"Is there a reason that they want you to be dressed like a Chippendales dancer for a book about business and finances?"

Groaning and tossing his head back so abruptly you think he might send the entirety of himself barreling backwards and out of his chair, when he comes back upwards, he looks approximately as pained about the whole ordeal as you might expect him to.

"Something about selling more books."

A questioning hum into the rim of your mug, you would be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy having a bit of the high ground over the man for once. Tables turned briefly as he sits across from you nearly nervously sweating the wax out of his perfectly styled hair — when the call begins to come through finally, Doyoung jumps up and out of his chair to answer it — hurried and excited at first, only to find himself sounding just as annoyed and despondent as you had heard him earlier on.

Guess it's not going well.

Turning to you once again as he ends the call and setting his phone onto the granite countertop with a heavy sigh, he tilts his head backwards with eyes closed as if in silent prayer for some sort of answer to this conundrum from some sort of higher power above.

Luckily for him, the answer only need fifteen more minutes to wake up and another cup of coffee, first.

"Did Mina ever tell you I got pretty into photography a few months back?"

"I'm sure she mentioned it."

Slow on the pick-up.

"I brought my stuff with me because you guys live in sort of a good area for landscape photography," you continue on, and thankfully by now the mans eyes start to pick up and raise towards you as you speak. "I don't really do people but it doesn't seem like you're in much of a position to be all that picky."

Quietly taking another sip from your cup, you sit by and wait for the reluctant acceptance: because he's a man out of other options, and you don't really have anything better to be doing this early in the morning, either.

"Fine." Doyoung sighs, tipping his own drink all of the way back to finish it off as if downing a shot of liquor to prepare him for the morning going forward. "Just make sure I look pretty, would you?"

"Of course, darling."

Snapping a few test shots, you pull your camera down from your eye and take a look through the display to check the turn out — given, it's a bit of a rough shoot with no lighting equipment and not much else to help you along your way, but you figure with what you're getting here currently that someone far more talented than yourself be capable of fixing anything decent you get in post.

Looking upwards again and towards your subject: laid out on the white flooring of an otherwise unfurnished room that the happy couple haven't had the time to get around to just yet, Doyoung keeps his attention turned well away from you as you cycle through the photos to determine any better way that you can make this work.

You think, perhaps, that he's still a bit bashful of the circumstances.

Leaning back against his elbows and forearms, you watch him glance towards the ceiling just briefly before finally looking at you.

"Well?"

It's a little bit funny how little he wishes to be doing this right now. Karma, perhaps, for years of subtle torment.

"They look good enough," you admit with a slight nod, sounding almost surprised at the fact. "I think we can get a few good shots pretty quick and have you back in your office writing boring reports, or whatever it is that you do, in no time."

"I'd much rather be doing that." He huffs, turning his attention away again. The movement gives you an excellent shot of the angle of his jaw, however — thus, you bring your camera back up to take a few more pictures before gracing him with a reply.

"I've never met a man so dismayed by being attractive."

"You think I'm attractive?"

You bring the camera down again, a slightly annoyed but playful cock of your head to the side that silently says 'really?', because frankly, it's a stupid question. This is a fact that Doyoung knows, as evidenced by the smirk that takes his lips as a result of your reaction to it.

"It's not the 'being attractive' that's bothersome," he continues on with the thought, offering you an honest response now. "Just don't really need or particularly enjoy this kind of attention on myself. It feels bizarre, especially as someone in my line of work."

It makes sense, and snapping a few more shots, you opt out of a verbal reply and only hum of acknowledgement, instead.

"I'll be happy to have it over with, and now I know, no more books."

Without pulling up from the camera, you carry on with your direction. "Look towards me."

Head turning slowly and eyes settling deeply into your own even through the lens, Doyoung settles into his new pose — a smoldering look to him that really would have you thinking that something like this be his chosen line of profession after all, but shaking it off, you press a few more clicks of the button and check in the view finder once again for how the photos are turning out thus far.

Doyoung's gaze, however, remaining firm on you as you do.

Jacket open again and chest fully on display, you make a good effort of attempting to ignore the flesh before you. Of course, it's far from the first time that you've seen him — and really, you've seen him in far less clothing and far more intimate scenarios, but something about this, you find, doing a little bit extra for your visceral attraction to the man.

Even worse, it's about seven in the morning. Who tries to fuck their best friends husband at seven in the morning?

You do? Maybe?

Mind wandering to the thought of whether or not it's something that is also on his mind, you figure it not too far from the realm of possibility: after all, the relationship between the both of you be almost strictly a sexual one, what else is there for either of you to be fantasizing about whilst in each others company like this?

"Is it good?"

The wording is a little strange, and that's because you know it to be a question with a hidden agenda behind it. A question he often asks you while buried deep within your body, as your eyes fall to his and your camera falls away from your face just a bit, you can quite easily see the sinister curl of one corner of his lips. Knowing, playful, a man with an agenda, indeed.

"Yeah," you answer cooly, not willing to allow him the satisfaction of knowing about your growing arousal. "They look good."

It's then that one of Doyoung's hands slowly glides up and to the front of his trousers — watching on as he expertly unbuttons and unzips them all the while maintaining perfect eye contact with you — there's a part of you deep down that is pleased with the non-verbal communication between the two of you and how far that it has come, even with so much time between the last time and now.

There's also a part of you that's willing to beg to have him in your mouth right now, but you'd rather not make that one so obvious just yet.

"Why don't you come get your reward then?"

Well, so much for the 'not making it that obvious' plan.

Slowly and gently setting the camera down on the only, lone dresser in the entire room, you just as carefully shrug off the robe you had been wearing — long, loose sleeves tending to be a bit of a detriment for these sorts of activities, best to be nimble and able to do whatever it is that you need to do.

The fact that you don't know what that is yet quite possibly the most enticing part of it.

Spending more time with the man in casual settings, you find it charming as well as that much more sexy to see the way he so easily slips into that dominant role. Not that long ago flustered and shy about you catching him in the kitchen in the same open suit coat that he adorn now.

Closing the distance between you and carefully settling down onto your knees between his legs, you watch as his hand slip down and beneath the fabric that still offer coverage from your sights — palming his growing erection just under, and worse than that — still maintaining that devilish eye contact with you like nothing capable of pulling his vision from yours.

"What do you want?" He asks with a sultry groan to him.

And still maintaining that initial desire to not completely give in to his whims, you instead decide on a bit of turnaround. Biting your lip, you look him straight in the eye to deliver your reply. "What do you want?"

It does give him a bit of pause perhaps — a single eyebrow perking up at the slight bit of defiance you dangle before him, but rather than deter him, he leans into it in full.

And you had not calculated the risk of being told precisely what it is that he wants from you accurately, either.

"I want you to spit on my cock, and then I want to watch you gag on it until I come."

It's a total knockout of a response, just like that. Throat running dry and heart thumping hard in your chest at the promise of exactly that, Doyoung's eyes remain on you as he offers you nothing more than a small shrug at your inability to properly digest the information.

"You asked," He adds with a much too sly smirk.

Hand shifting to be removed from his pants, Doyoung runs his thumb over the tip of his length to gather the bit of precum that's since gathered there, and upon its exit, he whispers a simple "come here" as he extends it towards you and presses the digit between your all too accommodating lips to suck him clean. Wet and wrapping around it, you run your tongue around him and offer a gentle suction before the man hooks into the corner of your mouth with a deeply wanting groan.

"Get what you want, then."

Taking his hand back from your face, you waste little more time before hooking your own fingers into the sides of his trousers and giving them a tug — hips lifting off of the flooring for just a moment to allow for the shift — you bring the fabric down just enough to be out of the way, watching as his cock springs free and the tip of it lie against his exposed abdomen. Perching over Doyoung's hips, you take him into one hand, a few languid strokes to feel just how hard he already is before dipping your head down and taking him into your mouth with the swirl of your tongue.

Breath hitching in his throat at the feeling of you, it's one of your favorite things about sucking him off — always just a little bit on the verge of falling apart beneath you entirely as you do so.

Pulling off of him for a moment, you glance back up the length of his body to make eye contact with him once again before allowing the lewd display of saliva to fall from your puckered lips and messily onto his shaft in hand. Then, it's back to business, taking him deeper and fuller into your mouth with light suction and long, slow bobs of your head around him.

"Yeah, just like that, baby," Doyoung whispers out, head falling back to take in the feeling just briefly before bringing his gaze back up to watch the way you work him — not wanting to miss a moment of the show. "Love my cock, don't you? Can't get enough?"

Moaning around him in affirmation, the words cause you to stroke him just that much faster — enjoying the way he sounds when you have him like this.

"Think you can take it all this time?" He asks, voice slightly broken already. "Bet you practiced while we were apart, didn't you? Sucking other cock just in hopes that you can take mine that much better if you were to get the chance."

Throbbing between your legs far from dull at this point with a man never relenting in the dirty talk, you once again groan around him as you also feel yourself falling apart despite being wholly untouched thus far. You can't see him, but you feel the shift of his weight to free one of his arms for movement, followed by the familiar feeling of his fingers collecting loose strands of hair as he intertwine them into the collection of it at the back of your head.

Leverage.

There's truth to his words, though. Not so much about sucking off ever Tom, Dick and Harry in town just to practice for the inevitable resurrection of your sexual relationship with Doyoung specifically, but you had seen other men since then, and you had sucked some of their dicks.

You're a little proud of the progress made, sure.

Bringing yourself up enough that only the tip of him remain between your lips, you take a deep breath in preparation for what's to come — the gentle, careful press of his hand down against the back of your head to force more of his cock into your mouth...slowly, inch-by-inch and with no rush to have you take the entirety of him in one go, when he reaches the back of your throat you focus on steadying and relaxing yourself for him. Hissing through his teeth at the feeling of burying himself so deeply within your mouth and throat, as he ventures further, you feel the welling of tears in your eyes at the light discomfort of it.

It's not bad, and far from enough to not want to keep going — rather, the excitement of having so much of him far outweighing those things, anyway.

Slipping into your throat delicately, Doyoung instead opts for short, shallow thrusts into you for the rest of the way, and once he feels your nose against his pubic bone, he can't help the breathy moan that escapes from his lips.

It's heavenly, hearing him so desperate beneath you.

Pulling you back up and off of him slowly, the two of you look at one another — you with teary, wet eyes and swollen, red lips — you think that the darkness in his eyes deepens just that much more at the sight of you destroyed on his cock before him.

"Think you can take it again?"

"Yeah."

"Such a good girl. Go ahead then, swallow me down."

Repeating the previous motions, before your nose settles against his skin, Doyoung instead opts for slow drives of himself into your mouth — gently throat fucking you with dizzying, incoherent sounds melting from his lips as you take just about all of him inside of you like this. It takes very little time before you hear and feel the familiar notions of him reaching his peak, a few harder, deeper drives of his cock up and into your mouth through his attempt to maintain his composure that have you gagging around him ever so slightly, and just as promised.

"Fuck, you take it so well now," he all but whines, eyes screwed shut and eyebrows knitted tightly together as he shallowly bucks his hips up into your mouth to chase his release. "Wanted to earn my cum, didn't you?"

You can't grace him with an answer, and he knows it well enough — the dirty talking is for you, really, knowing the way that every word pools between your legs — an unrelenting throb there now and unknowing if you'll be offered the same release that the man under you be about to experience.

In a way, you almost don't even care if you cum.

Suddenly, Doyoung pulls your head up and off of him completely to instead replace it with his hand — quickly stroking himself to completion only to empty his load on the expanse of exposed skin along his abs and sternum with a hot, heavy, whiny vocalization.

Catching your breath for only a second, in one, fluid motion you dip your head down to lick the white-translucent fluid off of his body as his chest heaves just above where you work.

Turning your head to grant you the ability to look up at him, the two of you make eye contact once again as your tongue dips out to collect his cum. Head falling back, he lets out an exasperated moan at the sheer sight of your desire for him.

"Ride my face," he suddenly demands, hands reaching down for your arms and already pulling you up and towards him. "Now. Come on my face."

A dizzying request from him and not one you had factored into the potential possibilities, you don't bother inquiring further as you struggle to your feet and discard your garments as quickly as possible before wobbling over to him and kneeling above his face with creeping uncertainty.

Doyoung wastes no time, however, digging fingers into the flesh of your behind and pulling your soaking cunt flush against his mouth — digging his tongue firmly into your clit and offering you the much needed relief you had been hoping for. Whimpering in his grasp, he goes at you hard and fast straight from the get go in a way that has you reeling with the threat of an orgasm that you knew wouldn't be all that far off from the horizon, anyway.

"Doyoung, fuck—"

Moaning against you, the vibration tickling your sensitive nub just that much more as he quickly circles over it with far more than just expertise, you find yourself thankful for the close proximity of the wall just behind him as you fall forward slightly and find leverage against it. "Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come—"

You sound somewhat surprised by the fact, large in part because you are. Not that you anywhere near able to follow the flow of time, rather, you know that it certainly hasn't been long since having made your way up here, and already Doyoung is having you tumbling over into orgasm.

In the last moments before you cum; grinding down hard against the mans mouth as he groan up into you and fingers digging into you flesh to hold you in place — you look down ever so briefly to find his eyes — narrow, lustful, and with a job to fulfill right before you come with an embarrassingly high pitched shriek, thighs quaking around his head as you bite the tail end of your yell back and indulge in the feeling of him sucking any coherent thought that you could ever possibly have in that moment straight out of you through your pussy.

And as you wind down from the exhaustion of your early morning escapades, you shakily crawl off of him, clumsily falling to the floor next to him and heaving in the afterglow of ecstasy. The two of you enjoy the silence for just a moment before Doyoung turns his head lazily to allow his eyes to fall upon your weary form.

"Breakfast?"

Huffing out an exhausted laugh, you can't help but smile at the nonchalance of it all as you grant him a nod. "Yeah, that'd be great."

"Cool," he says, bringing himself up and to his feet to shrug off the suit jacket entirely and leaving it bunched up on the floor next to you. "You suck my dick like that again and I'll cook you a six course meal every day until Mina gets home."

"Good to know."

With your nose buried in your laptop and comfortably sat in the lavish living room with no company other than yourself, you tab away at your keyboard to answer work emails and respond to other such employment related inquiries. Approximately a week into your stay at the current residence, you find yourself quite easily settled in by now: the two of you working on your own for the majority of the day, occasionally meeting in the kitchen or the hallway as either you or Doyoung come to and from your standard whereabouts, and, if given the free time at a whim — a quickie where ever either of you wish to have the other.

The entire circumstances fundamentally erotic — your entire being there at all deeply erotic in a sense — but with a week down and more rounds under your belt than days spent there already, you can't help but find that the simplicity of domesticity already setting in, in a way.

When Mina had suggested a sort of 'fake-dating' scenario, you hadn't anticipated it being so on the nose.

Because it truly does feel as though you and Doyoung are dating: engaged in a relationship beyond just the sexual, despite being intensely sexually charged and the entire surroundings of it being build off of that. You eat together, you chat together, you shower together occasionally — for all intents and purposes, you are, as Mina had suggested, dating; in some way, shape, or form.

It's not boring, but a sense of excitement and luster has already worn off in a way that you can't help but acknowledge. Of course, you still desire the man viscerally just as you always had the very moment you began your physical relationship with him...but the fact of the matter is just that: it's different now.

Upon sending out your last email at just before four in the afternoon, you shut your laptop in tune to the sound of Doyoung treading down the upstairs hallway and making his way down the stairs. Glancing up towards him, the two of you make eye contact, giving him pause for just a second before he continues his way down to the floor level of the home.

"What do you say about ordering in tonight, I don't feel like cooking again."

Dramatically throwing yourself back along the length of the couch, you swing your arm up and across your face like a damsel in distress at the mere thought of not being personally catered to. "What ever will I do? What's the point of even being here?"

He rolls his eyes at your overacting. "I'm going to order a pizza. I'll order two so that there are leftovers for tomorrow, then I can really punish you if I have to."

"Kinky," you quip back playfully as you bring yourself back up to a sitting position on the black leather. "Then what?"

Bringing his hands to settle on his hips, Doyoung simply stares at you with his head cocked to the side.

"If you think I'm going to be your tough, hard dominant boy-toy your whole stay then sorry to disappoint, but I'm only one man, I need some rest too, you know."

Of course, the banter is part of the fun of it. Something that the two of you have always engaged in, but as of late with the comfort of living together established, a new level of it unlocked. Easier and more fluid. Where once upon a time there be perhaps more truthful venom behind comments or words, instead now rest an adoring familiarity between the new faux-couple.

"Endlessly disappointing, aren't you?" You sigh in response, unable to fully hide your grin.

"So I've been told," he's quick to admit. "But if you're good tonight then there is something you might be pleased to discuss over dinner."

An intriguing promise of what's to come, and entirely unknowing of what it is that he be referring to, you find your curiosity to most definitely be piqued. Eyebrow quirking upward at the sly comment, you're mindful of the mischievous glimmer in his eye that you know to only present itself when the man have something very particular, and particularly raunchy, at that, in mind.

As the both of you settle into the smaller living room area just next to the dining room — fireplace lightly crackling in the not too far off distance and a cheap bottle of white wine opened and set on the tiny coffee table, as the television in front of you sounds off to fill the room with sitcom chatter and laughter, you glance over to the man just next to you: sitting with legs crossed in front of him and his plate balanced onto his lap as he bite into a slice of cheap, cheese pizza. It's a sight that you come to realize in the moment that you're unfamiliar with, all things considered: a particularly raw and true level of domesticity where Doyoung exist as just some guy, in the best way possible. You realize in this moment as well, that it's times like this that are likely cause for Mina's falling in love with him. A good man, after all — and more than that, seemingly perfectly well-rounded in all ways, as well.

Even so, as the flicker of illumination dances across sharp, pretty features — round, framed glasses perched upon his nose and rather unkempt hair in the front from a hand running through it numerous times that day — the conversation mentioned earlier weighs the heaviest on your mind with promise of, well, you don't quite know yet; but you sure would like to find out.

"So," you chime, semi-awkwardly on purpose and for effect. It's enough to garner his attention already, a man not all that wrapped up in the show carrying on before him to begin with. "About that talk."

"Right," he quickly responds with a single nod, setting the food down onto the plate in front of him and bending forward to set it onto the table between the both of you. "About that. I was curious how much of this...arrangement you were looking to explore in our time together."

The inquiry brings pause, finding the wording of it slightly difficult to navigate, because what does he mean by that?

You suppose your hesitancy is telling, however — Doyoung chuckling lightly under his breath before rephrasing the question more clearly.

"I mean...the first time we started sleeping together you were interested in exploring a rather dominant and submissive power play scenario. I'm wondering if you're wanting to explore that further."

'Further,' you think, being the operative word, and yes, yes you do.

Reaching forward for your glass of wine, you take a sip before answering him confidently. "Yeah, I've thought about it. I had done some exploring this past year but—"

Hesitating to think through your words carefully, Doyoung interjects with the thought you had been leaning towards anyway, and in a way, it proves your point just that much more.

"—Haven't established that level of trust with anyone?"

"Yeah, that."

He nods, finally spinning himself in place on the couch to fully face towards you. In a way he appears particularly earnest, as if even now still vying for that level of trust necessary to engage in the even harder, darker sides of BDSM as implied.

"Then," he says a bit more seriously than you would have ever really expected. "Tell me what you want."

You suppose that as far as situations that require a more serious touch, this be at the top of his list.

It's not something that you've spent all that much time thinking about, however. No list of 'things to try' on hand or a bullet pointed note on your laptop of all of the ways in which you wish for him to have you. Rather, they be fleeting, passing moments that you find yourself fantasizing about in private, discarded just as quickly as they find themselves making way into your mind.

But you do know that they still lie embedded in there somewhere, you just have to dig them back up.

As well as relay them to him in plain, simple words. It's not only an admittance of desire, but one of confession: 'this is all of the ways I've wanted you even since then.'

You swallow down the bubbling humiliation though, knowing that if not capable of bestowing upon him precisely what it is that you want of him that he be in no position to grant it to you.

He needs to know everything, because he has to have a plan.

"Restraints," you begin, inhaling deeply after the word leaves your mouth. "Orgasm control, impact play...basically all of the same but turned up a notch."

Doyoung nods, reaching towards his own glass of wine and sipping from the rim. Then, after thinking through your words, he offers another nod of understanding.

"Okay, then here are my rules: first, the same safe wording system will remain in place, we both know it and are familiar with using it so I think that's best. Second, no renegotiation mid-scene, it makes it difficult for me to be able to have an understanding of where you are and also gives me cause to have less trust in your word—"

Pausing again and with his head tilted down towards his lap, he glances up through his eyelashes at you for explicit eye contact in that moment.

"—And if I'm going to hit you, I need to be able to trust your word of when it's just enough, or too much."

"Yeah, of course."

"Cool," he finally sighs, dropping the tough and serious exterior to once again fall back into the Just A Guy role he had previously been enjoying. Doyoung slumps to the side and against the back of the couch with a contented grin as he finishes up his thought. "Tomorrow evening, then? Doesn't have to be then—"

"No!" You nearly shout, already thrilled with the thought of all that's soon to come to you. "No, tomorrow is good, perfect."

Standing to his feet, the man reaches down to take both of your plates into hand with intention of heading towards the kitchen. "I'm going to head to bed then. Long day, tomorrow will be longer now — try to get some good rest tonight."

Needing no verbal response, you sit back comfortably against the large cushions of the couch as he begin to head towards his exit — it's then, that a sudden thought comes to mind in an instant, and before your window for negotiation truly closes, you have to put it out there, now or never.

"Oh! Doie? One more thing about the scene tomorrow?"

He hums in acknowledgment of your words, merely glancing back and over his shoulder at you in wait for what it is that you wish to add.

"When you hit me...leave your wedding band on."

Snorting through his nose with a chuckle, the man playfully shakes his head at the thought and the implications behind it — just as quick on the uptake of one of the joys of kink exploration within the confines of this arrangement.

No one is cheating on anyone, doesn't mean we can't pretend, though.

"Kinky minx," He responds coyly, dumping the dishes into the sink and disappearing into the darkness of the otherwise unlit household.

"Shall we?"

Doyoung's voice is calm and pleasant when he asks the question. There's a hint of knowing within it, a playful nuance in regards to what's to come from here on out that already has anticipation pooling between your legs in a relatively unexpected way. You were excited for tonight, of course, but a physical response as a result of him merely alluding to it not exactly something you had foreseen in your future.

You recall Mina telling you how good of a dom he is a year ago.

The evenings festivities call for a one drink maximum: a rule implemented by the man himself to ensure that the parties involved be well aware of themselves and within the grips of their own feelings and boundaries enough to ensure safe play. One drink offering plenty to take the buzz of nervousness edge off, after all.

Dinner is light. Enough to keep the both of you fed and fulfilled without weighing either of you down, especially when you can't be sure when or if you're to be gagged — and beyond that, on what, you'd rather not take the risk of throwing up all over him — at least, minimize it as much as possible.

None of this is all that new to you, though. You've played before, partaken in kink and gone to parties before. Engaged in such things with people who are not Doyoung in between then and now — but as you quietly follow him downstairs and into the basement below, you find yourself so much calmer with him that with any of your previous play partners before.

It's not a matter of poor vetting and even poorer partner choices: you've had fun, it's been safe, and everyone has left satisfied. However, there just be something special about your play partner now — a level of trust and understanding between the two of you that takes an edge of uncertainty from the back of your mind and discards it entirely.

You don't have to worry about him, not even a little bit. As a result, you don't have to worry about you, either.

"I can't believe you two have a dungeon, how cliche," You sarcastically quip as your foot lands onto the floor at the end of the stairs. 

Doyoung glances at you briefly from over his shoulder and shoots you a roll of his eyes. "It's not a dungeon, we just wanted to keep the upstairs bedrooms available for guests. We had no other plans for the basement, so—"

"—So, you turned it into a dungeon," You finish for him.

Walking over to a small, unceremonious table, Doyoung pulls out a tube of hand lotion from one of the old, brown drawers and squeezes a small dab of it into palm. "If calling it that gets you off, then by all means."

As the man settle in and begin preparing for the activities, you take it upon yourself to glance around and take in the sights. Truly, it's nothing like the fancy, mommy-porn movies: no huge rigs or handcuffs hanging from the ceiling. Rather, it's sort of just a regular room — obviously re-done since moving in to serve this purpose specifically, you take notice of the king sized bed off at the furthest end of the rather small underneath of the home — satin, royal blue sheets and a single pair of restraints hanging from one of the golden bedposts there.

"Have you ever played submissive?"

It's a question that's rattled around your brain for a while now, suppose now is as good a time as ever to sate the curiosity. Doyoung comes up from behind you so quietly that it nearly startles you with another pair of wrist binds in his grips, and as you glance back and the two of you make eye contact, he reaches out for your hand — slowly fastening one of them to your wrist before answering the question.

"If you must know, yes," He says, tightening the restraint against your skin just firm enough for a good hold, and without causing pain. "One of those...'you gotta try it once' sort of situations."

"How did that go?" You ask further as he spins you in place to face him, fastening the other half of the tan leather to you. Doyoung offers you a sly grin first, slowly stepping you backwards on your heels and towards the bed, before gently tipping you and causing you to fall flat on your back to the mattress below.

"Didn't take."

While restraints, you find, aren't typically your thing, it's a situation in which you feel comfortable with him. You question momentarily if there be any other person in the world that you would be willing to be in this current scenario with: bound and laid out against the sheets of someone's basement bed, and the answer is a quite easy and resounding 'no.'

"Recite back the safe word system," He demands, tone dropping in a way that you know this be the beginnings of the scene at hand. You watch him as he rolls up the sleeve of his white, button down shirt — more or less still dressed up from the work day just before — sort of the archetype of the CEO dominant man that while typically you don't find yourself creaming yourself for...this time, it's sort of working for you.

"Green is good to keep going, yellow to slow down and lighten up, red is full stop to the scene. If unable to speak: two taps to someone's body is effectively a yellow sign, and three is a red sign."

"Good girl," he chimes, squatting down to the edge of the bed between your legs and hooking fingers into the sweatpants you're wearing. "Scene renegotiation?"

"Only to lessen, never to strengthen."

Pulling the fabric down your legs, panties and all, you feel the rush of cool air against your flesh in a particularly stark way — your body temperature seemingly already flaring up at just the mere discussion of the rules from here on out, you find this to also be an unexpected turn out of tonight's engagements.

"Sit up," He then requests; a near impossible task for you alone given your bind. He knows this, naturally, and reaches for the center of your restraints to pull you upwards and seated just as he desires.

Cold fingers just grazing the flesh of your torso as he grabs at the hem of your shirt and brings it up over your head, it's electric — felt through what you think could be every nerve of your body with barely any physical touch at all.

A worrying trend for your resolve tonight.

With you fully disrobed, Doyoung pushes you to lie back again, dipping down into his previous position and hooking his arms under your legs to pull your bottom to the edge of the bed. It's exciting already: the anticipation of what's to come and what he will do with you — relinquishing all power and ability to be an engaging participant in your activities in a way not yet engaged in since your time arriving in the home.

It's then that he dips a single finger between your folds — the touch is delicate, barely offering you any sort of stimulation at all, and as a result, you're already keening and attempting to melt yourself into his touch. This, of course, gives him great pleasure at the sight of you already so needy and wanting for him — evidenced on his face as he looks up at you from between your legs and gives your clit the lightest feathering of a swirl with the tip of the digit present there.

"In a rush?" He asks teasingly, still circling the collection of nerves between your thighs.

A dizzying offering of almost nothing to your body despite knowing how you crave his touch.

"What do you want?" Doyoung questions as if speaking to no one in particular, finger dipping down towards your opening and shallowing pressing inward as if intending to penetrate you. "I take it you want me to fuck you open with my hand?"

With a small whimper dropping from your mouth, he hums inquisitively. "Feel my tongue on you? Taste you like you have the last cunt on earth?"

"Yes," You finally whine in reply, but the response from you garners nothing from the man in question.

Instead, and in a rather surprising turn of events, Doyoung gives you just that: carefully slipping a single finger into you, slowly fucking into you with ease as a result of the ample arousal already having pooled there. It's shallow, slow, and far from enough to get you anywhere you're wanting so desperately to go, but better than nothing — a moment later, you feel the heated waves of breath across your labia as he brings his mouth mere centimeters from your mound.

Nearly instinctually you attempt to grind yourself down and against his hand and face, but it results in little given your lack of mobility. A light chuckle offered from him as a result of your wanting, you feel him press his lips lightly against your lower ones, but only to speak.

"You think I'm going to let you come?" He questions, offering one, long, stripe of his tongue through your slit finally and giving you the warm, wet, contact that you've been silently begging for. "You still want it even though you know I won't, that's how desperate you are for me, isn't it?"

Whining out a breathy affirmation of the fact, he serves you another press of his tongue against you for what you can only figure is 'good behavior.'

"I can always make you come so quick like this, can't I? Like your pussy was made for me—" He carries on the thought, pausing long enough to drag his tongue over you languidly and pulling from you the most desperate whines each and every time. "Body made for me, isn't it? Your mouth, your throat, your cunt, your ass...all mine for the taking, aren't they?"

The moan that tears from your throat at the words is nothing sort of humiliating.

"Answer."

"Yes, they are," You force yourself to reply through a breathy, broken voice.

"I know, you're so good for me. What a perfect little toy for me to come inside and toss aside until next time, aren't you?"

You don't have a chance to respond before his mouth is attached to you, tongue digging firmly into your clit and the sound of him sucking into you resonating through the otherwise empty basement. Eyes screwing shut, you only have a second of self-awareness to realize that he really might be able to make you come in record time at this rate. Curling his fingers up into you and running his tongue across you in just the way that he knows gets you there, you whine out loudly — back coming up and off the bed as he seemingly tries to get you there already.

"Fuck, fuck—" you breathe out as your body finds itself on the precipice of orgasm, but as a man all too good at what he does; expert hands and mouth bringing you just to the brink before pulling back from you entirely and watching your body tremble at the feeling of the loss. "—Doyoung please, please please."

"And what have you done to earn it, hm?" He asks, leaning forward and over your body to take your bound hands into his grasp and sit you upright at the edge of the bed before him. Still shaking lightly from the feeling of a ruined orgasm, hair strewn about your face and eyes glazed over from the need — Doyoung looks down at you with a gentle cock of his head as if charmed by the sight of you already so fucked out with so little having taken place yet.

Hands reaching down for his belt and subsequently releasing his erection from the confines of his black trousers, you're forced to watch him lightly palm himself just in front of your face.

How familiar a sight it is.

"You know how to earn it, don't you baby?"

You nod, although it's not enough for the man before you. "Answer."

"Yes, I can earn it."

"Good girl," he says, angling the tip of his length down and to your lips, only lightly dragging across before gently tapping you with it as a signal to open your mouth for him. "Though, suppose this is a bit of a reward in and of itself, isn't it? You love my cock, isn't that right?"

With only the tip of him presented between your lips, you're able to still speak around him. A simple "I do, please let me earn it" falling from you before you're able to even register the words and the meaning behind them.

It never gets old the way this man can have you falling apart with ease.

Hand dipping to the back of your head, Doyoung pulls you forward and sheathes as much of himself inside of the warmth of your mouth as he comfortably can at first — just like the last time, there's no aim for discomfort or pushing any particular limits this time — rather, he understands yours and your abilities well enough by now to know precisely the best way to go about having you, and equally as much, allowing you to have him.

Lips firmly wrapped around him, with each pulling back of your head, you look up at him to meet eyes — narrow, dark ones staring down at you to watch the way his cock disappears inside of your body.

"Fuck, that's it baby," he whispers out as he begins to gently drive himself into your face. "Such a pretty face, just made for me to fuck."

But for as much as Doyoung knows you and your body, the same can be said for you and his — you know this sort of engagement to be his weakness, and for all of the chiding he does at your inability to hold out on him, the very same can be said for him in these situations.

Bringing his hand forward and from the back of your head, he instead grasps your jaw, prying it open forcefully so. "Open, swallow it down. Take it all."

Giving you little time to adjust, you feel him press his hips forward and as a result, begin the drive of his cock down into your throat. Gagging around him, he pulls off quickly. "Color?"

"Green."

And with that, he serves you another, direct press of his length down into your throat. Easier this time, but the sound of your heaved breaths and gurgling around him as your nose meets his flesh going straight to that place deep within him that you can tell makes him want to come at a moments notice. As a result, he pulls back and from your mouth entirely — giving you a moment to catch your breath before grabbing at your chin once again and forcing your mouth open for him.

"My little cockslut has gotten so good at that. You sound so pretty when you're gagging around my dick."

Leaning forward, he allows a small dropping of saliva to fall from his mouth and into yours before once again pressing his length between your lips and shallowly fucking your mouth with a few, quick, thrusts.

"You want my come?" He asks firmly, stepping away only enough for the tip of him to rest against your mouth.

"Yes."

And then it comes: one light, open-palmed snap of his wrist against the side of your jaw.

"I don't believe you, make me believe it."

"Yes! Yes, please come in my mouth, please let me taste you, Doie."

Tightly gripping your jaw again, he holds you in place to rub the mess of saliva and precum thoroughly around your face — so wet that it's nearly dripping from you — Doyoung smiles down at you at the sound of the pet name leaving your mouth.

Because that's when he knows you're really fucked up for him.

Another, slightly harder tap of the inside of his fingers to your jaw — it doesn't hurt and it's far from jarring in any way, but the implications of it within the scene driving you absolutely wild in the moment, you're happy you asked for this in particular.

The glimmer of his wedding ring still present on his hand, all the while.

"So nice of my wife to offer me such a compliant play-thing to use as I wish while she's gone," he says, finally dropping his pants to the floor entirely and beginning the unbuttoning of his shirt as if to soon discard it entirely. "Suppose now I get to decide which hole I want to take, don't I?"

You nod, and as a result, Doyoung lands the hardest connection of his hand to your face that he's given you thus far. This time, enough to actually cause your head to move a bit, as well as the slightest sting to the skin.

"How many times do I have to instruct you to answer? Are you already so fuck-dumb that you can't remember one, single rule?"

"No! I know it, I'm sorry!" You quickly amend with a shake of your head. "You can have anything you want from me."

"I know," he plainly responds, as if already grown tired of the discussion at hand. Simultaneously, Doyoung pushes you to the side and back against the bed, only this time pulling you up by the hips and displaying you bent over and lewdly spread open for him at the edge of the bed. "I'll take what I want, that is your purpose here, after all, isn't it?"

"It is," You quickly answer this time as to avoid punishment.

Feeling the tip of his cock pressed against your opening, you hear the man chuckle from behind you at the sight before him. "Your messy little cunt is practically dripping. Begging to be filled with me. Pathetic."

The words garner a whimper, and pathetic is correct as you feel him drag the length of his cock up and down your folds in a simulation of fucking you. Slow, concentrated drives against you, but not into you, that have you keening and attempting to push back and onto him in a way that is far beyond humiliating — a new low for you, even given your previous encounters. You don't think you've ever needed to feel him this badly, and worse than that, you know that he knows it, too.

You're thankful when he readjusts his position, feeling the tip of him pressed at your opening again followed by the smooth, easy glide of his full length into you. A dizzying feeling of being so full of him after what feels like an eternity of being denied him in so many ways, Doyoung sinks into you from behind and sits flush against your ass for only a moment before leaning forward and harshly gripping his fingers into your hair.

Followed with a hard, rough, snaps of his hips into you that has you nearly toppling forward at the momentum of it.

"You thought I was going to fuck you for you?" He breaths out, venom lacing his tone as he delivers another, harsh, thrust into you. "You're nothing but a hole for me to fuck, and come in."

Pressing your face into the mattress, the man then focus entirely on his own pleasure: chasing his release as he fucks you hard, quick, and selfishly. No concern for the proximity of your orgasm as a result of him.

The irony being, of course, that after so much lead up to this moment, you're just about there, anyway.

Stopping briefly and much to your display, Doyoung comes around to the side of you to release you of your restraints, but as he settles in behind you and sinks into you all over again, you feel him lean forward to retrieve both of your wrists and twisting them behind you — new, better leverage for him to use your body with like this.

"God, your cunt feels fucking heavenly," he groans through rough drives into you and over the sound of your pathetic, fucked-out babbling just below. "Useless bitch not good for anything but taking my cock, guess you're good for something, after all."

"Fuck, Doie—" you whine out at the culmination of words and the feeling of him relentlessly pounding you.

"Yeah? Is the little whore gonna come anyway? Even when I just try to use your body to dump my load in, it still gets you off, that's how much you love it, huh?"

He's right. This one might keep you up at night in the future.

"Yes—" you whimper breathlessly, dangling on the edge of your now inevitable release. "Yes, yes, yes, please I'm gonna come—"

"Fine," he hums, similarly close to his own peak. "Come then, want to feel you milk me when I fuck my load into your messy little pussy."

And so you do. Your orgasm ripping through your body hard and quick — shrieking loudly against the mattress as Doyoung continues to pound you through it — shaking and clawing at nothing attainable as it tears through every inch of your body. You're barely aware enough to hear him groan out from behind you as his own takes him: cock deeply buried into your walls as he unloads inside of you — cock so hard and deep that you feel the pulse and twitch with every rope of cum that he delivers to your insides.

Slowly, carefully pulling from you, listening for the way his breaths are heavy and worn from the scene having just played out to perfection, as you fall to your side to lie flat against the bed to catch your own you feel the gentle, careful dip of the mattress from just beside you as he settles in just the same.

Silence blanketing between the two of you, you inhale to speak — only to be cut off by words of his own in an entirely unsurprising and frankly, shocking way.

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

The snap question comes out before you have a second to even really mull over what it is that he could be apologizing for, because frankly, everything went on without a hitch. It was everything you had wanted and maybe even more, and now he's apologizing for it?

Arm slinging up and over his face as if to hide himself from you in a way, Doyoung sighs. "You know I don't mean that stuff right? About this being the only reason you're here? I feel kinda..."

"You're dropping right now," you interject suddenly, reaching over to take his hand into your to offer him some seemingly much needed soft, physical comfort. "What do you say we head up to that big tub you guys have in the upstairs bathroom and take a nice, cozy bath?"

With a delicate squeeze of your hand, you take it as an accepting of terms — not even bothering to dress before escaping the basement and wobbling yourselves up to the next scene on the agenda: aftercare.

"When did you know you wanted to marry Mina?"

Sat up against one end of the tub with Doyoung's back to you, you run soapy fingers through messy, black strands — nails gently grazing the flesh beneath in such a soothing way that you all but feel the man melting into you presence, he hums at the question before sighing to answer it.

"Quite early in our dating, actually," The man replies confidently, head tilting back so that you can lather him up better. "Maybe three, four months in I felt like she was going to be the woman I spent the rest of my life with. Of course, we were kids so we dated for a long time before taking the step, but I knew."

A charming side of him that you typically find yourself unfamiliar with — listening to him muse about the love of his life, your best friend, and the ease in which he does so even in the most intimate company of yourself.

"Cute," you whisper from just behind him, wetting your hands again before setting them back within his tresses. "Who knew you were such a soft romantic?"

"Hey! I have many sides to myself!"

Happy with your cleansing, you take the shower nozzle into hand and instruct him to dip his head back towards you even more to gently rinse the suds from him, and once rid of them entirely, you delicately press his head back upwards to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better."

Planting a kiss to an exposed shoulder blade, your lips linger there as if to speak directly into his skin. "Have you ever dropped like that before?"

Doyoung chuckles at the question, as if slightly humiliated by the answer as he nods his head in affirmation of it. "Yeah, Mina could tell you plenty a story about coddling me after a particularly rough dom drop."

But rather than shameful, you find it adding a new level of humanity to the man that only allows for you to appreciate him and the role that he take on just that much more.

"You did well," you offer him in solace with a squeeze of your arms that encompass him. "It was amazing. I couldn't imagine playing like that with — well, anyone who isn't you, I suppose."

Reaching to find your hand, he takes it into his and presses the back of it to his lips for a small peck.

"Good, I'm glad. I had fun, too."

After drying off and heading back down to the kitchen for a late night, before bed snack, as the both of you head into your separate directions for sleep, it crosses your mind to ask him to spend it with you.

You find in the next two weeks that the majority of the time is spent much like the first: working from the home and occasionally meeting with your live-in partner for silly activities when the time should meet and the interest strike: the occasional blowjob in the kitchen, or being eaten out against the upstairs railing of the hallway — and if time really permits, bent over the back of the couch where you typically work from. Suppose it can be chalked up to the excitement of a sort of honeymoon phase shared between the two of you, after all, this just be yet another arrangement with an end date, and if the effort is to show, then you both have every intention of getting your proverbial moneys worth.

In the midst of a particularly slow work week for you, and a much heftier one for Doyoung, you find him out and about much less — earlier so offering you the handling of his credit card to order food to the house as you see fit on account of him having little to no free time to do any of his usual cooking — you accept it with a bit of a dropped heart. Sure, there's joy in having free reign of a rather full bank account not belonging to yourself, but more than that; the enjoyment of spending time with him now cut incredibly short and on a whim.

Your relationship together has shifted. It's not necessarily just sex (although that still be a large portion of it), but rather, the two of you melding together in a way that you figure neither of you had really seen coming. Enjoying the company of each other in non-sexual settings — in fact, you come to realize that dinner be one of your favorite times of the day as you wind down from working hours and instead just chat about normal, everyday things. Goings on in the world, work, maybe even some gossip about friends — a bizarre realization, and so far into your time spent here now: you and Doyoung are friends.

Sure, friends that viscerally enjoy the body of the other, but still just friends aside from that.

Waking late one night on account of what in particular — you can't be so sure — you grab your phone from next to you to read the time: a quarter past three in the morning. Having grown accustomed to the bed in which you currently lie, you settle your head back into the pillow to once again meander off to dream land; that is, before you hear the familiar clattering of keyboard typing from down the hall.

It's not that you can't sleep through it, you most definitely can — the sound not carrying far or loud enough to disturb you all that much — rather, it's the thought that Doyoung be up still, this late at night, and to work, at that.

Kim Doyoung is many things. Workaholic high on the list, certainly.

Slipping your robe on over your shoulders like so many times before, you once again carry yourself down the hall quietly — as if meant not to awaken anyone despite being the only two people in the home — as you reach the doorway where his study reside, you listen in for the sound of the keyboard again before entering and disturbing him in full.

But instead, you're met with silence.

You know what you've heard, though, and turning into the door, you suppose you can't be all that surprised by the sight that greets you: a man slumped back in his chair, head tilted back and against the headrest, utterly unconscious as the bright, blue light of the monitor before him illuminates his handsome features.

At the very least you're happy to find him comfortably dressed for late night engagements like this — gray sweatpants and a matching gray pullover sweater with the name of the widely regarded college that he had attended years back — you take it upon yourself to step towards him and with a gentle hand pressed to his shoulder, you slowly shake him back to his senses.

"Doyoung," you whisper, an attempt to pull him back into a conscious state with as little startling as possible. "Doie, wake up."

Thankful for the ease in which he comes to, picking himself back up to sit straight and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands, Doyoung blinks hard towards the screen before glancing up and towards you. "What are you doing up?"

"I could ask the same of you," You quip back, hands into your hips like a disappointed mother figure. "Let's get you to bed, Mister."

"Mom—" he drawls, playing along with the scene, but saving his work and shutting the machine down all of the same as he stands to his feet. "I don't wanna."

You sling an arm around his waist as his finds your shoulders — realistically the man have no problem walking, of course — but you find the scene charming all of the same. As you turn to your left in an attempt to take him to his bedroom, he fights the movement, instead pushing towards the right and down the hall towards your own bedroom.

"Lemmie put you back to bed, first," Doyoung insists, still motioning that way with his body weight against you. "It's the least I can do for you saving me from the grips of Excel spreadsheets."

A bit of a charmer.

Relenting, the two of you make your way down the darkened path and back into your bedroom. He lags behind you next to your bed, nimble fingers reaching into the neckline of your robe to help remove it from your body as you once again lie yourself in bed and cozy up within the sheets — still warm from your presence just earlier in the night.

Doyoung kneels down next to you, arms crossed against the edge and chin pressed into them as he gazes up at you.

"You're the most boring man I know," you start with a breathy chuckle. "Staying up late to do spreadsheets."

"Yes, I know," He willingly admits with a pleasant cock of his head. "Do you want me carnally?"

Reaching over your own body to playfully slap his arm, you opt out of answering the asinine question. Largely due to your awareness of it being rhetorical, but also in part to the both of you knowing that yeah, obviously you do. Embarrassing.

"Get some sleep." He finally says with finality to his tone, standing to his feet with intent to leave.

You figure, now is as good a time as any.

"Actually—" you start, the word coming out a bit more meekly than you had hoped when thinking it through in your head. You suppose it's the possibility of rejection that has to reeling with this sort of lack of confidence that is relatively unfamiliar to you. Still, you push forward with the inquiry; a disservice to yourself not to. "Would you sleep with me? Like, spend the night with me?"

The question gives him pause, and as a result, has you second guessing yourself, too.

"You don't have to, I mean, I don't know if you're not allowed or just don't want to, it's just—"

"—I'm allowed to sleep with you," he interjects suddenly to cut off your anxious word-vomiting, a small smile pulling at his lips as he continues the thought. "The only rule is we can't do anything in the shared bedroom, but yeah, I can spend the night with you."

"Oh," you whisper, perhaps the largest part of you not having anticipated this response after all. "Okay."

"Is that what you want?"

"Yeah, kind of." You answer with a tiny nod.

Instead of engaging in the conversation about it any further, Doyoung takes it as an opportunity to accept your terms and disrobe for the evening: you watch him intently, taking in all of the ways that his body move as he pull the shirt up and over his head to toss it aside — toned chest that you've seen so many times before now only visible through the slivers of illumination granted by the moon through your blinds — it feels intimate in a different way this time: like normal lovers. People not involved in an 'arrangement,' people who are simply dating and might even have sex with each other because often times, that's what people who are dating and attracted to each other do. Falling asleep in one another's arms in the afterglow of it, or maybe just falling asleep in one another's arms as the grand finale of the evening together.

His pants go next, and before you have much of a chance to think further on it, you feel the man slip into your bed and under your covers as you scoot across the mattress to the other side to accommodate for his figure.

"I picked out this mattress," he proudly chimes. "Good, right?"

"No wonder I sleep so well here, thing probably costs an arm and a leg."

"Yeah, it kind of did." Doyoung chuckles, turning to his side to face you.

Silence blanketing the room, with such little light shone in you find it difficult to keep track of where he is, or what he's doing whilst beneath the sheets with you. A gentle rustling of the fabric, you can't tell what he's doing until fingertips feather across the skin of your face to brush stray strands of hair from you.

He must have better night vision than you, and with even more of a shift of his body, you're met with the feeling of warm, minty breath on your face as he dips further into you for a kiss.

You meet him eagerly, maybe even too much so with teeth lightly sinking into his bottom lip and eliciting an ever so slight groan from him at the feeling. He's happy to meet your advances, however, mirroring the motion before parting lips and pressing his tongue into yours.

Barely creating space between you, he instead opts to speak directly into your waiting mouth. "This why you asked me here? Doesn't seem like you're trying to sleep."

You had been originally, but plans do change.

Rather than offering him a verbal reply, you slip a hand down and between your bodies to wrap fingers around his length — already attentive to the stimulation in part — and pumping him gently, you revel in the way his sighs into your mouth; choked and broken groans caught in a dry throat at the feeling of you palming him so deliciously like this.

You're thankful for your night vision finally coming to you, and allowing you to take in the sight of half-lidded, wanting eyes staring back at you.

"It's late," Doyoung whispers first, a lazy reasoning as to why you shouldn't be wanting to partake in such lewd activities currently. But rather than engaging in the banter with him, you bypass it entirely with the one thing that you know will make the man putty in your hands.

Firm, long strokes of his cock in your hand, you once again bite into his lip with a breathy moan against him. "Doie—" you all but whimper into his mouth. "—please."

You get little time between the moment the word drops from your lips and when you find yourself pressed back against the mattress with him hovering over you. A grin of victory splashing across your features as you feel him tug your panties down your legs and toss them aside without much of a care, just as quickly coming back up to bring his mouth to your own with a bit more hungry intent behind it than before.

Reaching down between both of your bodies to position himself to enter you, Doyoung drags fervent, hot kisses down your jaw and to your ear that bring the temperature of your body up just that much more. A once dull throb between your legs now impossible to ignore and full of want as he rub his cock up and down your slit to spread your wetness around before attempting to penetrate you.

"You drive me crazy."

As his hips press forward and his cock begin to sink into you — with a lack of foreplay you find a particularly pleasurable burn that come along with the resistance he's met with upon entering a body not quite made to be ready to take him. Jaw hung ajar at the feeling of him prying you open slowly with shallow, timely thrusts, you exhale heavily against his face as he once again meets you eye to eye.

Seated flush between your legs, he pauses for a moment to kiss you deeply — rocking into you with little withdrawal in a way that has his pubic bone continually bumping against your clit — you whine into his mouth as he drinks it down between dips of his tongue into you.

Cock nearly fully buried inside of you at all times like this, you feel impossibly full of him as he grinds against the apex of your thighs. One hand brought down and gripping firming into your waist as if to hold you perfectly in place to take him, he feels suffocating in a whole new way that you find you've never quite experienced before: in the absence of immense dirty talk and power play — sex with Doyoung be just as intense and enveloping, all the same. A man all too in tune to the needs of your body and mind.

"Feel good?" He finally whispers against your face. You think him to be well aware of the answer already, though.

"Feel so good, so good," you whimper in an airy, stifled tone. "You feel so big."

"And you take it all perfectly."

The words send your brain buzzing, the coiling of release beginning in your abdomen as a result of the relentless pace he has set against your clit — thinking of how far, how deep his cock is buried within you a dizzying thought as he continues to rock against you with just the right rhythm that can have you sent over the edge in no time.

"I want to feel you come around me, baby. Can you do that?" Doyoung asks in a whisper against your cheek as he trails pecks of his lips across your hot skin.

Teeth pulling at your bottom lip as you try to bite back the sounds that threaten to rip from your throat as your orgasm looms on the precipice.

Nails digging into the flesh of your waist as he attempts to drag you down harder against him for more friction, it's just enough while his lips and teeth simultaneously suck into the skin of your neck to decorate you with pretty marks to send you barreling over the edge. Doyoung feels it more than anything as a hedonistic groan drops unexpectedly from his mouth at the feeling of your walls gripping down on his cock still buried well within you as you come.

A chanting whisper against the heated skin of your neck, "Fuck, that's it, just like that."

Riding you out properly through your orgasm, it's only then that the man release his grip on you: opting now for long, fluid drives of his cock into you to bring him to his own end. It doesn't take long after the feeling of you all but milking him for everything that he's worth only moments before — once again burying deep inside of you with the twitch of his length to release warm, wet, ropes of cum deep inside of your now dripping heat.

Head coming back up from your neck to gaze into your fucked-out eyes, his vision dances over your features for just a moment — taking in the sight of you before once again greeting you with a deep, adoring kiss.

Wincing from the stimulation of having just come as he drags his softening cock from you, Doyoung flops to the side of you with a heavy exhale — a hand mischievously finding itself between your legs once again to play with the mixture of cum and other such wetness left behind in the aftermath of your unplanned rendezvous.

"So," he sighs out as the tip of his middle finger drags up and against your all too sensitive clit. "Those spreadsheets, huh?"

How cruel the world is — the most exquisite cock being attached to the most insufferable man you could ever know.

As the last day at the residence finally comes around, you spend the days just prior expecting it to be bittersweet, in ways. Naturally, you're thankful for Mina's return as well as yourself reentering a life of normalcy compared to the rollercoaster of a getaway as you've spent the last few weeks — rather, you're none bitter and all sweet for all of those aforementioned reasons.

Of course, your relationship with Doyoung has reasonably shifted. A man that once only served as a mark of unappreciated and relatively unwelcomed contention, now having morphed into one of your most trusted and perhaps even in ways, adored, people in your life.

You contribute it mostly to the little things. The ins and outs of living an everyday life alongside the man — allowing to view him in a new way, and maybe even the way that Mina does — that casts him in a brand new light. Hardworking, thoughtful, and above all else: trustworthy.

Putting your care and well-being: emotionally, mentally, physically — in his hands, and not only coming out on the other end just as well as you had gone into it, but in ways, even better.

But don't tell him that, it'll go to his head.

On the last evening and after that aforementioned six course meal that you had never actually expected to come to fruition, as you find yourself comfortably seated on the loveseat in front of the television and just next to the warmth of a crackling fireplace, you gaze over the back of the cushioning: watching the man with rolled up long sleeves as he pop a last bottle of some expensive wine he got from who-knows-where as a sort of parting gift only shared between the two of you.

Two glasses in hand, Doyoung hands you one and you share a light tapping of rims before taking your first sips as he sits down next to you.

"Excited to get back home?"

Mulling over the question momentarily, you hum into the edge of the glass before taking another, small sip and setting it onto the table just in front of you.

"Yeah, I feel like I've been on vacation too long being here, it feels weird."

Chuckling, he matches your action before leaning his head against the couch to look at you. "You've been working this entire time, hardly a vacation."

"That's true."

"Imagine my surprise finding out that you do have a job that isn't simply being friends with my wife!"

Tossing your head back as if in utter disbelief that he really be bringing this joke back, you whine out your response to him. "Are you really going to do this again?"

"Have to keep things interesting still," he starts with a sly grin, reaching for your arm and lightly taking it into his hand by the wrist. "If I'm too nice to you, you won't want me viscerally anymore."

The physical touch serving as a motion to have to closer to him, you follow his lead — pushing yourself across the furniture and pressed up against him with your side. Playing mad, you choose to ignore the way his fingers feel against your skin, but harder than that: ignoring his breath against your ear as his face dips down and closer to yours.

More than aware of his ability to feel your skin raising beneath his touch, you instead make an attempt to bring attention away from it.

What's the harm in a little hard to get fun on the last night, anyway?

That is, if you can hold out long enough to make it such.

"Am I supposed to still want you after this is all over?" You ask firmly, as if none too affected by the proximity of his body to your own. "Like knowing that your wife’s best friend desires you sexually or something?"

"Sure," he admits without missing a beat. "Doesn't everyone like feeling desired?"

You opt out of responding, but your lack of one does not offer the reprieve you had hoped as he continue on with the thought.

"The taboo nature of the husband and the wife’s best friend—" he whispers into you, hand on your wrist now long since abandoning its position and moving across to your thigh.

Yes, you had worn a skirt on purpose knowing the plans for the evening. Plans to only play hard to get, after all. Not actually make it all that difficult to acquire.

"—Plus, you already admitted you still thought about it long after the first arrangement ended. Am I supposed to believe you just needed a month to get it out of your system and thus you've now grown tired of me?"

"I could go off it just fine," You continue the ruse, tone pointed and unaffected as his fingertips feather up and under the hem of the garment laid across your legs.

As the tip of his middle finger edges just up against the front of your panties, you delicately attempt to squeeze your thighs shut, only for the man to take notice and disallow it immediately.

"Spread your legs."

Of course, you do as you're told. Not yet relinquished from the grip that he has on you.

The problem lie in how electric his touch is — knowing just the right way of engaging with you physically, pressing all of the correct proverbial buttons that time and time again has to coming undone for him as quickly or as slowly as he would like, depending on the circumstances — with his hand curling into your underwear and a single digit pressing against your slit, you can just about feel the way his lips turn upward at your compliance for him even now. Until the very end.

"Is that so?" Doyoung finally says in acknowledgment of your obvious lie. Eyes thin and intent on you as you try your best to not make your want for him so damn obvious. "Well, you're going to have to, after all. I can't help but wonder, though—"

Pausing the thought as he gently penetrates you with a single finger and you subsequently melting in his grasp at the feeling of it — you know you've lost, but suppose even in that there is victory.

"—Who's going to make you come the way I do? Who's going to have you a whimpering, begging mess for them the way that I do? Who will you be able to relinquish all power and control to the way you do with me?"

You know that he's using it as dirty talk in the present moment, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been asking yourself the very same questions these last few evenings spent at the marital home.

Who is going to replace Doyoung in your life?

"We'll have to find you someone nice to play with," he begins again, pulling from inside of you and turning his attention to your clit with the very same finger, instead. "Well, not too nice."

'We.'

The idea that Doyoung will be by your side, aiding you in finding and vetting any future play partners because not only is his safety important to him, but your enjoyment, as well. The idea that although it brings him great pleasure to be that sole person in your life capable of bringing you to that level of sexuality, that he knows your arrangement unsustainable long term, and him not wanting you to miss out on it just because of his unavailability.

Guess you really do have to hand it to your bestie, she really landed a keeper.

As the first, small, whimper drops from your lips, the familiar feeling of Doyoung smiling against you returns again as he meets it with praise, as always. "There she is," he says, as if having been working to summon the version of you that lie dormant and waiting to fall apart for him as he see fit.

"Come here," he whispers against your ear, low and up to no good, you're sure. "Why don't you come sit on it?"

So much for playing hard to get, the promise of being full to the brim with him one last time all too enticing to play games with, Doyoung pulls his hand away quickly to shove his pants down his legs and out of the way as you bring yourself to a knelt position atop the cushions. Turning to face him, it's a sight that you think may never get old, and that you'll likely have carried with you forever should you be able to maintain it: Doyoung's slanted lean against the back of the couch in wait for you to straddle him — long, beautiful cock in hand as he lazily strokes himself in preparation to penetrate you, and eyes gazing straight up and into your own — always granting you his full and undivided attention.

Wobbling slightly as you position yourself over his thighs and gently bear down against him, the man angling his length just right for you to impale yourself upon him, as you begin your descent and enjoy the barely-there string of his stretch, Doyoung brings his other hand up to your face to pull you down and close to his own — lips just lightly meeting — as he speaks in hushed, hidden, words.

"Sit on it before my wife gets home, yeah?"

It's something that the two of you had ballparked playing with the entire time: the infidelity that not be taking place, but rather, the illusion of it. Roleplaying.

Vaguely dabbled in at the end of your first arrangement, you suppose it only fitting to close off this one, as well.

Sinking down on him slowly, you whine into his mouth at the words. Kissing you delicately at first — more teeth and tongue added to the mix with every inch of him you bury inside of your heat — as you comfortably settle down and into his lap in full, the both of you let out an exhale that neither had been aware of your holding as your eyes meet once again before resuming any movement.

"Good?"

You nod.

Lips grazing down your chin and jaw as he sucks gently into the skin just below, Doyoung barely presses his hips upwards and against you, only enough to pull a threatened hiss from your mouth at the feeling of him almost too deep inside of you.

"Gonna have to be quiet," he whispers into your skin at the reaction of feeling him. "We don't want the missus to hear, now do we?"

"God, you feel so big right now," you say, unable to help breaking character in the moment at how impossibly full you feel. The commentary pulls a breathy laugh from the man beneath you and a small shake of his head in reaction.

"I'm trying to do something new and you just want to default back to that old shit, huh?" He jokingly chastises, hands snaking around to grasp onto your hips as a silent beckoning to begin moving. "Yeah, I get it, it's big, can we move on!"

With the both of you laughing now, the mood feels a tad bit lost — perhaps the initial one, but not the whole mood entirely. Instead, it feels perfect an ending for such a long, sexually-charged, exploratory month — full of growth and understanding and...maybe even some love there, yeah.

Maybe it's not impossible that there be space in your heart for love for him, given everything. Not romantic, or platonic, or familial — but somewhere in between. All of them and none of them simultaneously.

"Fine, geez, never met a man so upset about hearing how big his dick is," You respond with playful annoyance, finally grinding your hips down and against him to garner just that right amount of friction from inside of you that has you both groaning out in tandem at the feeling.

Bringing one hand up from your lower body and making quick work of your blouse, Doyoung palming the mound of flesh that sit eye level with him as you ride him steadily — leaning forward, he wastes no time circling one of the sensitive buds with his warm, wet tongue before fully clasping around it with his mouth and continuing the motion as you fuck him from what might typically be considered for the majority of your engagements: switched positions.

Groaning into your flesh as you find the perfect rhythm for yourself — fingertips digging into the flesh of your hip as he desperately attempts to fuck up into you and match your movements, as he pulls his mouth away from you and you both make eye contact, you realize that perhaps for once you're not the one at the mercy of the other this time, and rather, it's him.

Whining out with eyes clenched shut and dropping his back down against the sofa again, it's a simple "fuck" that escapes him, and nothing else.

But you're pretty sure you know what that means, and for once, you're not even close.

"Already?" You ask, somewhat curious, but somewhat with intent to be a little bit annoying, as well. It works just as expected, eyes flashing open and at you with the most despondent expression you could have imagined.

"Don't be like that, God."

With his jaw clenched so tight you can nearly hear the sound of his teeth gritting, you bear your weight down onto him harder — taking his cock as deeply as you can before switching to full, lengthy, bounces of your hips atop him. The switch immediately has the man beneath you moaning, and with a little bit too much proverbial pep to your step, you lean down to close to distance between your mouth and his ear just as quickly as the thought comes to you.

It's not a whisper, you don't bother making it such: really, who is going to hear?

"Gonna have to be quiet, don't want the missus to hear, do we?"

"Hear what?"

The sound of a third voice feeling a bit like how time feels the seconds before a car crash happens — the sounds of tires screeching before the crunching and clanging of mangled metal — you can't even help the shriek that resounds from you as your eyes immediately pull up at glance over at the entrance to the kitchen from the doorway hall.

Throwing yourself off of Doyoung in a fit of humiliation of also due in part to feeling as though you've been caught fucking your best friends husband (for good reason, you suppose), the man only flings his arm up and over the back end to grant himself enough leverage to turn himself to look at the sight you've only just laid eyes on.

"Saved by the bell, welcome home, honey."

"You guys are so fucking weird!"

The screech coming from you, obviously. Pulling your clothing back into place hurriedly as Doyoung does the same in a much more lackadaisical fashion, you hiss towards him as if still trying to avoid allowing the missus to hear the both of your goings on. "Did you know she was coming home tonight!?"

"No," he chuckles. "But thank God she did, huh? Things were getting a little out of hand!"

With a light tap of your ass, Doyoung stands to his feet to go greet Mina — bags still in hand as she stand with a wide, adoring grin splashed across her face.

"Have fun while I was away, darling?" She asks knowing all too well the answer. Of course, Doyoung happy to play along. "She's incorrigible, my love. Not a moment spent free from her evil clutches."

"I'm sure," Mina replies, kissing him lovingly as he walks past her and into the kitchen, all the while feigning his dismay.

"Are you going to come say 'hi'?"

"Ideally if I wait here long enough I will simply melt into the couch cushion and cease to exist."

Mina rolls her eyes at the dramatics displayed by you. "You do know I already knew you were here fucking my husband all month, right? Like, it was my idea and everything?"

Sighing, you flop around on the sofa like a child throwing an uncontrollable fit. "I know! But it still feels so weird that you...saw it! Why do I feel weird and you don't?"

"Because standardized monogamy and societal assumptions and traditional versus non-traditional relationship models; I don't think you actually want me to explain to you why but — it's fine. I caught an earlier flight in, I kinda knew there was a chance I might catch you guys. I had texted him but you know how he is with his phone."

Silence. Mina sighs.

"Can you say something? Please don't melt into that loveseat it was almost ten thousand dollars."

That being the thing that has you jumping up and off of the furniture in shock and horror, you finally look up at your best friend from across the room — taking in the sight of her gentle and loving smile and in that moment, you accept this snapshot in time for everything that it is, just the same as all of the previous ones this month.

A reminder to take people at their word. To believe what they tell you if there is love between you. To have the bravery and respect to trust someone when even in the shroud of doubt — they tell you that it's okay.

And so, you run your palms over your blouse and skirt in a rushed attempt to clean yourself up ever so slightly, and with one footstep towards the woman that you've held dearest to you for so many years, you swallow down all of the nasty feelings that no one but you and the heavy weight of unrelated parties expectations cast upon you: because after all — that has nothing to do with the three of you, right here, and right now.

"Welcome home, Mina."

♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.

—this is part 2. part one [here].

[onlymingyus]

Hallmark Moment (SVTHUB; Snowventeen Collab)

❆ pairing; singledad! kim mingyu x singlemom! reader ❆ genre; fluff, angst, romance, crack, parent au ❆ warnings; singledad!mingyu, singlemom!reader, kids, food, alcohol, sickeningly sweet moments of cuteness and romance, some cursing, kissing, light touchy moments ❆ svthub snowventeen collab master list - snowventeen tag list ❆ part two ❆ w/c; 19k and some change ❆ a/n; this is all fluff and I really do hope you enjoy it. I thought I might step out of my smut comfort zone a little bit and write a bit of fluffy stuff for the holiday season. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season! a huge thank you to @housewifehui for reading along the way and then proofreading this beast and also thank you to my dear @onlyseokmins & @wonwussy for also reading and giving me confidence. fluff is not my strong point by any means.

“Let’s go, honey. Say goodbye to Amy so we can get out of Mr. Kim’s hair.” 

Mingyu smiles at you, shaking his head while you both watch the girls start to complain about having to end their play date. You were always grateful for him picking them up after school so that you could take your time leaving work, but that didn’t change the guilt you felt. No matter if you enjoyed seeing him and Amy every weekday just as much as Mina did. 

“Neither of you are in my hair. Besides, we really do wish you two would stay for dinner. I made enough spaghetti to feed a small army. Are you sure you won’t take us up on the offer Y/N?” 

Mina whines, turning towards you to tug at the ends of your dress looking up at you. “Mommy please? Mr. Kim’s spaghetti is so much better than yours. I mean all of his cooking is better than yours, no fence mommy but it’s true.” You sigh into a laugh reaching down to tug at your daughter’s loose hair that had fallen from her ponytail. She had such a way with words and candor, something she had learned from you. 

“Offense, not fence baby, and none taken. I know Mingy–Mr. Kim is a great cook.” Mingyu grins as you start to use his first name in front of the kids. He didn’t mind; he actually would prefer it, but he knew how much you wanted to teach Mina respect so he didn’t push the subject. When you sigh again and nod, Mina giggles moving back towards Amy to take her hand allowing the other small girl to pull her towards the dining room where dinner was already waiting. 

You watch with adoration, trailing slowly behind them until Mingyu takes the spot beside you just inside of the dining room. Your eyes move over the freshly decorated Christmas tree just on the other side of the arch into the living room. Mingyu’s eyes can’t help but to mirror your eyes on the tree, but only, his stay on your face and your smile as it spreads across your face. 

“It’s so pretty Mingyu. You put it up today?” Meeting his eyes, you feel your cheeks go warm at his attention already so focused on you causing you to look away when he laughs nodding towards the girls. “Yeah, they helped me. I just need to put the star on the top. Maybe after dinner you can help me with that?” 

Nodding, you wrap your arms around yourself, making Mingyu’s eyes move over you once again with a smile. “Mm, perfect. Here, go ahead and join the girls, I’ll turn up the fireplace. You all get started with dinner.” You can’t help the shiver that runs through your body when his hand brushes over the small of your back causing you to smile, a smile that doesn’t go unnoticed by Mina or Amy who giggle in hushed tones. 

“I know, I saw!” 

“Tomorrow we will hang it up!” 

Your brows furrow as you catch bits and pieces of this secret conversation, sitting down across from your daughter who had made sure to place you as close to Mr. Kim’s seat as possible. Her smile only fades slightly when you sigh and shift your plate and seat down a bit in order to give him more space. “You guys know how to set a table. You have to give people room to eat. What are you two whispering about?” 

“Nothing mommy, and your seat was perfect. I don’t know why you had to move it…” You watch your daughter pout as you lean to begin putting spaghetti on Amy’s plate then her’s. “Okay, Mina. Napkin in your lap and eat slowly, both of you.” Amy smiles at you adoringly when you meet her eyes, making your chest feel warmer. You find yourself wanting to push her hair behind her ear and make sure she is well taken care of though, you know for a fact that Mingyu does a fantastic job of that even on his own. 

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N. Thank you for staying for dinner. I really like when Mina is here for dinner and you too. I want you to do it more, please?” Your heart beats a little faster, your brain trying to come up with the right words, not wanting to hurt her feelings or give her any false hope. You simply smile, starting to speak when you feel warm wool around your shoulders. 

“Amy, I’m sure Y/N and Mina will eat with us when they can and want to. Now eat up before all this hard work gets cold.” Your hands go to the shawl around your shoulders that Mingyu had placed there, your eyes meeting his to find him smiling. “You seemed cold, I hope you don’t mind.” 

Mingyu’s hand slides over yours to take the pasta server out of your hand, gesturing for you to sit down. “And please, you are a guest, let me serve you since you served the kids.” You glance quickly at the girls as they giggle, spaghetti sauce covering their cheeks while Mingyu places a serving of spaghetti onto your plate. 

“Girls, use your napkins. They aren’t just lap weights.” Mina sighs faux annoyed while Amy laughs, picking up her napkin wiping at her face. Mingyu grins as he watches you with the kids, enjoying the help with Amy and just watching you interact with them both. You were a good mom, attentive but still loving. It was clear that Mina loved you very much and that Amy had a special place for you in her life already. 

Dipping out enough spaghetti that could feed two people onto his plate, Mingyu laughs when he finds you looking at him, his fork already twisting the pasta around it eagerly ready to bring it to his waiting mouth. He only stops at your look as you hold a much smaller bite an inch from your own mouth, a small amused smile slightly hidden by the spaghetti. “What?” 

Shaking your head, you laugh before taking your bite, picking up your napkin to cover your lips and wipe them clean of any sauce at the same time. Mingyu takes his bite, filling his mouth with audible sounds of appreciation, making your heart once again feel full in your chest. Amy giggles drawing both yours and Mingyu’s attention while she watches her father eat with a shrug before pointing her fork at him. 

“He always eats like this. Worse if you weren’t here Miss Y/L/N. Seriously, you could ask Mina. One time I think he inhaled an entire chicken off his plate. The whole thing!” Mingyu’s cheeks warm, he is quick to reach for his water taking a long sip looking at his daughter over the glass as she grins at him with one to match his. 

“I think–” You can’t help but to laugh along with the girls when Mingyu has to clear his throat between talking before continuing, “Excuse me, I think that Amy is a bit dramatic. It wasn’t an entire chicken. I am just a person who enjoys a good meal.” 

You nod along with his words, your smile as bright as the lights on the Christmas tree in Mingyu’s eyes while he watches you working to get another bite of food. “I like knowing you eat so well. It’s good, you are a very healthy man.” When you look up to find him watching you once again, your fork slips in your hand, causing you to drop what little spaghetti you had managed to gather on it, making the girls giggle at your clumsy nature. 

“Thank you Y/N. Girls, eat your food. Stop giggling so much and actually put food in your mouths.” Amy and Mina mutter their okay to Mingyu’s words before going back to their meals, leaving you to regain your composure. A shared glance between the two of you and slight smiles hardly unnoticed by the two girls who kick at each other’s legs under the table before quickly laying down their forks, asking to be excused to go play. 

A sigh falls from Mingyu’s lips before he smiles and looks to you for your opinion. “I–okay, but only for a little while longer. Mina, we can’t stay too late. You have school and I have work. I’m sure Mr. Kim would also like to have a peaceful evening before putting Amy to bed.” 

The girls laugh nodding the entire time they run away from the table and towards Amy’s bedroom to play, leaving you and Mingyu alone to finish your meal. Mingyu smiles into his water once again before daring to let his eyes grace yours again. “You really aren’t bothering me by being here Y/N. I love having you and Mina in the house. It’s really nice. Amy loves having Mina here to play and I think, no I know, that she loves having you here too. She talks about it all the time.” 

You shake your head, feeling your cheeks burning under his attention while you reach for your own glass of water, wishing it was something stronger. “Well we both really love her as well, and you. I mean we love spending time…with you. Mina hasn’t had a good male figure in her life in a long time. It’s really nice for her to have someone to look up to like you.” 

‘...and you’ Those words take Mingyu’s breath away, causing him to sit back in his chair with a small grin, his eyes watching your fingers play with the glass of water. “Amy feels the same way about having a woman in her life. When you took her and Mina to that little nail salon a few weeks back? She couldn’t stop talking about it for days. She called my mom and talked about it for hours, about how Miss Y/L/N took her out for a girls' day. Y/N?” 

Your eyes find Mingyu’s though you are smiling at his story about Amy and his mother when he says your name in a question. “Hm?” Mingyu’s grin widens at how your eyes widen slightly in a question to him as he stands to go to a small cabinet in the corner of the room. “Red or white wine?” 

“Oh…I couldn’t. I have to drive home, and I told Mina we couldn’t stay for long.” Mingyu laughs softly, glancing back at you still taking out two wine glasses while you watch, a smile on your lips before you sigh. “Red, please? Just one glass.” With a nod, you watch the attractive man hold the wine glasses between his fingers and the bottle of wine in the other while he makes his way back towards the table and you. 

Mina kicks her feet when she runs back to Amy’s bed falling down on it out of excitement. “Your daddy got out one of those big bottles we aren’t allowed to touch and mommy looked really happy. I seriously think Santa got the letters.” Amy smiles just as brightly as her father had while looking at you before falling back on the bed to lay beside her best friend, both girls letting out an almost dreamy sigh at the thought. 

The two girls had spent many of their evenings after homework watching the Hallmark channel since they were playing Christmas movies. It all seemed so easy for people to fall in love and for families to have their happily ever after so why couldn’t they have that too? Why couldn’t their mommy and daddy have the same thing? 

They had both watched you work so hard to support them even when you didn’t realize they were watching. They had seen you sad, crying when you thought no one else was watching, they might be young but they knew what loneliness felt like. Yes, you had lost a husband and Mingyu had lost a wife, but they had lost a mom and a dad.

Then something magical happened, they were put into the same class and quickly became best friends. You worked later than Mingyu, so it just worked out that he could keep Mina, making it easier for you to pick her up on your way home. The fact that you two seemed to get along so well was just another seemingly magical moment for the girls, a Christmas miracle. Just like one of the Hallmark movies. 

Turning on her side, Mina reaches for the sprig of mistletoe that she had painstakingly tied the red ribbon around, her small fingers smoothing it while Amy watches her lost in thought. “Like you said, we can hang it up tomorrow. They have to walk under that archway like 100 times a day when your mommy comes by to get you. We will make sure it’s really visible so they won’t have any other choice but to go by the Christmas rules.” 

Amy smiles as Mina does, her friend putting the mistletoe back down for safekeeping before sitting up on bed to reach for a small notebook that the girls now shared. “Okay so, we did plan one. Dinner as a family, check. Mistletoe tomorrow…oh the star tonight. Maybe we can get your daddy to help mommy to put it on the tree like in that one movie. Oh my gosh, Amy, did you see him put that pretty blanket on her shoulders?” 

Mina watches the smile fade on her friend's face only slightly but she still nods. “Yeah, it was my mommy’s. At least that’s what daddy told me once when I asked. I mean I don’t mind your mom wearing it. She looked really pretty in it. I liked it, seeing her wearing that, instead of it just laying in my daddy’s room.” Mina leans to hug her friend making her smile once again, both girls laughing when the mood cheers back up. 

“She did look really pretty, I think your daddy thought so too. I wish he’d just tell her. The girls in the movies seem to like it when the boys tell them how pretty they are. Maybe we can figure out how to get him to do that?” Nodding, Amy takes the notebook from Mina’s lap in order to write down the new idea on their list, knowing she was better at spelling out of the two. 

“Daddy is a gennleman, he tells me that I’m pretty all the time. I’m sure he will be happy to tell your mommy.” A smile creeps along Mina’s lips at Amy’s words and her mispronunciation of gentleman while she watches the girl write slowly on the thick lines of the notebook. “Gentleman, like gentle. Mommy taught me that once. You know like when you touch a kitten, you have to be gentle?”

“Oh…that makes sense I guess? Daddy is gentle with me and you. He would be gentle with Miss Y/L/N and he’s a boy or a man.” Mina nods along with Amy’s words as if she made all the sense in the world, her smile just as bright as yours while you sipped at the last of your wine and leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a break only to dry plates as Mingyu washed them. 

“Mina told me that you all don’t put up a Christmas tree?” Mingyu watches your face shift like a deer caught in headlights while you reach out to take the last plate from him, drying it slowly. “Okay, I’m not a Grinch if that’s what you are thinking, Mingyu. I just…I literally do not have time to put up decorations knowing that in a couple weeks I would need to take them all back down. You know how much I work.” 

Putting his hands up defensively, Mingyu laughs, taking the towel from you along with the plate so he can put them away. “No, seriously I get it. I’m lucky to work from home most of the time. Mina can enjoy the tree here, I told her the same. She didn’t seem that upset about it honestly. Though she was more than happy to help decorate ours. I hope you don’t mind that she did.” 

Shaking your head you pick up your wine, nursing the last new sips and watching Mingyu move around his kitchen as he puts away the last few dishes. Your eyes linger over his back and his face until he turns around to meet your eyes when you speak. “No, I don’t mind at all. It’s good she gets that piece of Christmas somewhere. She usually only gets it with my parents so it's nice to have it here too.” 

Mingyu smiles once again with a nod, picking up his own glass of wine to take a sip. His eyes linger over your fingers and lips as you drink the last sip from your glass before setting it to the side. “It’s my pleasure Y/N. Are you sure you don’t want another glass of wine?” He watches a smile spread across your features while you consider his question. 

“As much as I’d love to say yes, I have to say no. You understand, I’m sure.” Mingyu nods, taking your glass from your fingers, letting his fingertips trail from yours seemingly on accident when he turns to take it to the sink. “I do. Another time, a rain check? When you don’t have to work the next day. Maybe on a Friday? The girls are always asking for a sleepover.” 

You watch his hands move over the fragile glass with such care that you can’t help but to tilt your head in wonder. How this large man could look like he was going to break something without even meaning to and yet hold something or someone like they were a cloud he wanted to keep forever. “They sure are. I keep telling Mina sometime later in the school year.” 

Mingyu laughs, nodding into his wine, finishing it so he can wash his glass before setting it to the side to let it dry. “I wouldn’t mind it earlier, but of course it’s up to you.” You watch him take a deep breath, his hips leaned back against the counter mirroring you against the island causing him to smile. “Should we get the girls and put the star on the tree?” 

Amy is mid laughter when Mingyu knocks on her open door, drawing both of the girls' attention towards him. “Hi daddy, what’s up? Are you and pretty Miss Y/L/N having good juice?” Mingyu laughs scratching the back of his neck realizing that the girls had been spying on the two of you. “Mmhm. We did have…good juice. Did you two have fun playing or did you spend your entire time spying on me and Miss Y/L/N?” 

Mina sits up from the bed with a giggle while Amy tries to play innocent by picking up her doll running a brush through its overly tangled hair. “That’s what I thought. Come on, it’s time to put the star on the tree before you head home with your mom, Mina.” With a whine from both girls, Mingyu mimics them ushering out of the bedroom back down the hall towards the living room where you were already waiting. 

Your eyes were on the tree, flicking from the different ornaments that had dates, some that were picture frames holding pictures of Mingyu and Amy. Your fingers pull the shawl tighter around your shoulders as you step closer to the fireplace, enjoying the warmth against your body and letting out a content sigh when Mingyu comes around the corner. Though neither of the girls seem to notice he stops in the tracks and has to take in a sharp breath at the sight of you like this. 

Mina moves to pull on your dress moving to hold at the shawl also enjoying the warmth causing you to laugh. “Where is your sweater?” Amy laughs, moving towards you as well letting you hold her just as close as she speaks looking up at you. “She forgot it at school. I told her she would when she took it off. She can wear one of mine home tonight, I don’t want her to get too cold.” 

Mingyu’s chest tightens when your fingers brush over Amy’s cheek. Your voice soft as you whisper your thank you to her, shrugging off the shawl to put it around both of the girls who curl up under it, enjoying the warmth and smell of your perfume you had left behind on it. Swallowing hard, Mingyu moves further into the room, his hand shaking slightly when he reaches for the box holding the golden star so he can take it out. 

“Oh…it’s beautiful, Mingyu.” He grins into a laugh that is cut short when he has to swallow hard once again as you step closer to him and the tree. Your gentle fingers run over the star before you look up at him as if asking for permission which he gives with a nod of his head, allowing you to take the delicate tree topper from the box to show the girls who ooo and ahh. 

“I love it daddy! It’s better than that stuffed elf we had last year. Did grandma give us this one?” Mingyu shakes his head no, a soft smile on his lips watching you move back towards him and the tree. Your eyes looking up at the top of the tree, you were clearly thinking there was no way you’d reach the top of it like this. “No baby, I bought it a few days ago from a shop in town. Y/N…wait, let me get a step stool.” 

When you start to speak, Mingyu puts up his hand moving back to a hall closet to bring out a small stool unfolding it near the tree before offering you his hand stepping closer to you. “Carefully, I have you though, okay?” You laugh as you step up on the small ladder with a nod, your fingers delicately clinging to his while his other hand grazes your lower back.

Mingyu watches you carefully until you reach the top of the stool, his hands holding onto you gently but firmly enough that you could tell he would never let you fall. Never on his watch.  Mina and Amy’s hands link under the warm shawl, happy smiles reaching their eyes while they watch you place the star on top of the tree making sure it is perfect. “How does it look, girls? Do you like this?” 

Did they like this? Seeing the potential of a family in front of their eyes? “I love it mommy.” Amy squeezes Mina’s hand tighter, sensing the tears in her eyes helping her to hold them back. “Miss. Y/L/N, it’s almost as pretty as you. Don’t you think so daddy?” Mingyu looked at his daughter with a laugh playing on his lips but she was right. 

“Mmm, almost but not quite.” Your cheeks warm, almost as if you were sitting right next to the fire, when you look down at Mingyu. His smile broadens into a grin before he takes a step back, helping you to carefully descend the step ladder. “Thank you for helping us put that up Y/N, it completed it. I could have never made it look that perfect.” 

You watch Mingyu carry the step ladder away, your fingers nervously moving along your arms you now have wrapped around you with no shawl to hide under. “I’m sure you would have. The girls did a great job with the rest of the decorating. I’m sure they could have done the star just as well, but I am happy to help. It was nice to have a little taste of Christmas.” 

Mingyu watches your hands move along your arms and he wonders if you are cold again, his eyes moving to the shawl around the girls but he knew he would never get you to stay for much longer. He found himself wanting to wrap you in his arms and hold you by the fire while the girls curled up next to each other under the shawl warm and happy by the tree. 

Shaking his head, Mingyu pushes the thought away and smiles at you. “It’s my pleasure, just like I told Mina, you can always have Christmas with Amy and me. We do Christmas with my parents on Christmas Eve then spend Christmas here…I don’t know what your plans are…so I…don’t feel obligated.” 

Mina sits up a bit looking at you longingly which makes your heart beat faster, an actual Christmas tree on Christmas for her. That would be nice…the thought plays through your head. “Uh we actually go to my parents on Christmas Eve as well so maybe. We will just have to see. Let’s not make any plans just yet.” 

You watch Mingyu’s smile tighten every so slightly but he nods even as the girls start to complain. “Amy, stop it. Don’t whine like that. It’s almost time for bed anyway.” You nod agreeing with Mingyu taking a step towards the girls to collect the shawl folding it carefully. “It is, we’ve stayed far too late tonight Mina. Time to say goodnight.” 

Amy and Mingyu watch you and Mina leave, a bit of sadness in both their eyes when your car pulls out of the driveway. Mingyu isn’t surprised when his daughter leans against him, a soft sad whine slipping off her lips. “You will see her in the morning. Time to brush your teeth, and I mean all of them, even the back ones.” Amy groans looking up at her dad with faux annoyance before smiling at him with his matching grin when he runs his finger over her nose only to tap the end of it. 

You watch Mina in the rearview mirror any chance you get on the drive home. She looked sadder than normal and you weren’t sure why. Though you felt sadder than normal after leaving Mingyu’s house and once again, you weren’t sure why. Shrugging off the feeling you make it home with your daughter making sure to take extra care with the borrowed sweater she had worn home. “I’m going to put this in your bag, make sure you give it back to Amy tomorrow okay?” 

Mina nods at you, her feet dragging while she walks past you towards the hallway making you lift your head and follow her. “Are you okay baby? Talk to me…are you that sad to leave Amy tonight? I know you want a sleepover but that just can’t happen on a school night. I really hope you will try to understand why?” 

A sigh leaves your daughter’s lips, her small body plopping down on her bed before she looks up at you shaking her head. “I’m okay mommy. Can I say something and you won't be mad at me?” Your own sigh matches hers when you squat down in front of Mina to reach up, running your fingers over her soft cheek to offer her some comfort. 

“Why would I ever be mad at you for saying something you feel like you need to say? Of course you can tell me something.” Mina swallows hard, leaning into your touch, her almost doll-like eyes avoiding yours, you know she is trying to keep her courage to speak. “I really like being at Mr. Kim’s house with Amy, almost more than here.” 

Your stomach tightens, your brows knitting together at her confession but you nod starting to speak but Mina does first. “With you though Mommy. I like when we are all there together. When you get home from work, that feels like home. Coming here after leaving there feels like leaving home again.” Some of her words made you feel some better but others made it worse, but you’d never let that show not in front of her. 

“Oh, I see. Is it our house? You don’t like your room maybe?” Mina shakes her head and finally meets your eyes letting you see a trace of wetness covering them, your heart feeling like it is going to shatter at her apparent sadness. “Oh baby…what’s wrong?” Shaking her head again the tears spill over Mina’s cheeks and she is unable to find the words only allowing her body to fold into yours. 

Your own tears burn at your eyes but you keep them pushed back refusing to show weakness in front of your child. Fingers brushing through her hair, you hum rocking her softly until she calms down and soft snores take the place of her tiny sobs. Still you keep your own feelings at bay while you get her changed and tucked into bed making sure she is safe and sound, her door cracked when your back hits the back of your own door and the tears finally slip down your own cheeks. 

Mingyu raises his brows looking up from his laptop to the sounds of hushed children’s voices. Taking off his glasses, he pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh trying to make out what the girls are saying just a room away but instead he hears the sound of wood scraping along wood. “What in the world are they doing now?” 

A small pained grunt falls from Mingyu’s lips causing him to put his hand on his lower back signaling he had been sitting at his desk for far too long anyway when he stands and moves towards the sounds of giggles. He stops short only to watch as Amy balances on the dining room chair, Mina trying hard to keep her held tall but still safe while she attempts to place something as high on the doorframe as possible. 

“I need to get up higher. I’m gonna go on my tippy toes. Don’t let me fall, ‘kay?” Mina makes an unsure sound of approval going to hold Amy’s legs. Mingyu takes a step in closer only to stop again when he realizes that his daughter is holding a sprig of mistletoe in her little hand. “They have to see it here right Mina?” 

“Oh…” The word slips from his lips just as a breath unheard by the girls when Mingyu understands what they are trying to do. A smile spreads across his lips only to be covered when he wipes his hand over his lips still concerned with the scene in front of him. He waits until Amy has placed the mistletoe on the side of the doorframe pointing outwards, as far up as she can get it before he clears his throat looking down at them instead of what they were hanging. 

“Girls, you know better than to play on furniture. What if you fell down?” Amy panics, afraid her daddy will see the mistletoe before he should but when he doesn’t seem to notice she lets him lift her off the chair placing her safely on the ground next to Mina. “Sorry daddy, we were just…we were…” 

Mingyu waits for an explanation but he knows it will be a lie and his daughter had been taught not to lie from an even younger age. “Playing on the furniture, I know. Now run on and finish your homework. I know you two can’t be done yet. We’ve been home less than an hour. I’m going to start dinner soon.” Amy lets out a breath of relief at not having to lie, making Mingyu smile, lifting the chair to take it back to the dining room when he feels a hand tug at his shirt. 

A glance down makes his smile grow wider seeing Mina looking up at him, his heart warmer with her close to him. “What’s up Mina?” Her laugh is so similar to yours it makes him miss you being here. “Can you maybe text my mommy and see if we can stay for dinner again? Amy said tonight is soup night? I really like soup.”

God, how could he say no to that little face and that sort of request. Hell, if you said no he’d send home a bucket of the soup with you so that Mina could eat it for the next few days if he had to. “Of course sweetie.” His hand brushes over her head before he gestures with a nod towards the living room where Amy already was. “Now, go. Homework is waiting.” 

Your phone vibrating on your desk was a welcomed distraction from your work computer letting you lean back and take a breath. You only had a couple of hours left but it felt like you had 8 more to go. When you see Mingyu’s name as the person who sent you the text you find yourself unable to hide your smile even when you know you are in your office alone. 

Kim Mingyu: Hey, hope work isn’t too rough today. Mina wanted me to see if you two could stay for dinner again tonight. We are having homemade soup, a house special. 

You swallow hard reading over the words a few times ready to decline him. You already had the words plotted out in your mind, ‘So sorry but I already kept Mina out too late last night. We’d love to do it another time.’ but another text comes in making you let out a soft sigh. 

Kim Mingyu: I really hope you will stay for dinner. I enjoyed the adult company if I can be honest with you. I know you stayed out a bit later than normal so I will keep a better watch on the time tonight, scouts honor. What do you say?

“I doubt you were a boy scout Mingyu…” You whisper to yourself and the phone, your thumbs running over the sides of the device in thought. Another steadying breath taken you let your thumbs move to the keyboard so you can answer him not wanting to leave him on read knowing for a fact he would be waiting for a response. 

Y/N: If you keep that promise cub scout. Soup sounds really nice, Mina really likes soup…but she probably told you that. Thank you for being so kind to us. You really don’t have to but I really appreciate it. I don’t tell you that enough. 

Mingyu grins at his phone, raising a brow to your wording. Were you flirting with him? Shaking his head he chooses not to linger on that as much as your thoughtful appreciation. Which to him wasn’t even something you needed when it came to him. This was as easy as breathing for him. He wanted to do it, ever since he had met you and Mina it had always been on his mind. You had no one to help take care of you, not that you needed a man to “take care of you” but maybe you wouldn’t mind it once in a while to even have a friend lend a hand. 

Kim Mingyu: You don’t even have to say it. You are a joy to have in my life. 

The text comes through followed quickly by a second as your heart beats quickly into your throat. The correction calms you down but only slightly as you wonder if he had meant the first or second reply. 

Kim Mingyu: *Our life. You and Mina are a joy to have in our lives. Haha…autocorrect. 

Mingyu swallows hard, cursing himself for his quick wording and then his chickening out. His eyes watch the three bubbles pop up then fade several times before finally your response comes through. 

Y/N: You and Amy are a joy in our lives too. See you later this evening. 

You set your phone to the side, hands trembling slightly from how many times you had re-wrote that response. It had gone from, ‘But was it autocorrect Mingyu?’ to ‘You are a joy in my life too.’ before you finally landed on making you and Mingyu feel more comfortable with a safe response. 

Mina and Amy giggle between spoonfuls of the soup while you and Mingyu share the occasional glance. Not much had been said between the two of you out of the ordinary. He had asked about your day, you had told him about it. You had asked about the kid’s evening and their homework and as usual it had gone pretty much the same as always except for a little mishap with climbing on furniture. 

Now you felt warm and content in your chair, the same shawl from yesterday back around your shoulders while you sipped at probably the best homemade soup you had ever tasted. You had made Mina promise to not tell her grandmother that Mr. Kim’s soup was better than hers, causing a smile to grow on Mingyu’s lips before he met your eyes. Your heart racing ever so slightly under his gaze making you wonder how quickly you would be able to run away because you weren’t supposed to be feeling like this, not for him or anyone. 

“Mommy, tomorrow is Friday.” Your attention brought back to the table you laugh nodding at your daughter's observation gesturing for her to continue. “And that means what to me Mina?” Her slightly annoyed sigh causes Mingyu to snicker into his water, getting a playful side eye from you before you give all of your attention back to the small girl sitting across from you. 

“Well I was wonderin’ if maybe I could have a sleepover with Amy? If Mr. Kim says it's okay too?” Mingyu watches your lips tighten into a thinner line as you consider your daughter's question carefully. Your fingertips brushing together, a habit he had noticed you had when you were lost in thought. “I really wanted you to wait until near the end of the school year Mina…” You watch her face begin to fall and remember the night before, how you had held her in your arms while she cried herself to sleep. Your heart is tightening to the point of pain when you lift your hand to stop her from complaining or getting upset.

“If it is okay with Mr. Kim, then yes but only for one night.” Mina’s eyes glisten anyway when you say yes, her head turning towards Mingyu who was looking at you in almost disbelief. “Mr. Kim, can I?” Mingyu laughs quietly tilting his head, his hand moving to scratch the side of his neck. “Yeah, it is okay with me.” 

Amy squeals in delight, putting her spoon down near her empty bowl before tugging Mina into a hug. The girls quickly begin to talk about their sleepover plans while you and Mingyu share glances then fond smiles. “Girls?” Your voice draws their attention causing them to stop for a moment with their rambles of excitement to look at you in question. “Yeah mommy?”

Clearing your throat, you wipe your lips with your napkin gesturing at their empty bowls speaking quietly but with authority. “Put your bowls in the sink and go play. Mina we are leaving in an hour. We aren’t staying as late as we did last night, especially if you are wanting your sleepover.”  

Both girls smile at you quickly following your request before you and Mingyu listen to the sounds of their feet heading towards Amy’s bedroom leaving you two seemingly alone. “You know, I’m surprised you said yes.” You smile at Mingyu’s words leaning towards the table beginning to help clean up dinner, his chair lightly scraping along the floor so he can help you do the same. 

“I’ve gone soft cub scout.” You listen to Mingyu laugh, it’s unlike his normal laugh, not as robust but instead it's almost warm and makes your skin tingle like a good sip of wine. “I’m glad, you deserve a little break once in a while Y/N. What will you do tomorrow evening?” Mingyu watches your brows furrow in thought, your back straightening while you hold bowls in both hands moving towards the kitchen and the sink. 

“Huh…you know? I hadn’t even considered that. I have literally no idea. I haven’t had a day really alone in 6 years. I mean there have been afternoons but never really a night. Mina never wants to stay with my parents overnight, this is the first time she has wanted to stay overnight somewhere.” Mingyu follows behind you to the kitchen, the rest of the soup in his hand. He nods, only stopping to grab a few pieces of tupperware from the cabinet before turning towards you listening. 

“Which, by the way, if she is a problem or has any problems obviously do not hesitate to call me. Literally it could be 2 in the morning. I will drive over here.” Grinning as he separates the rest of the soup into the leftovers containers, Mingyu nods then meets your eyes. “Don’t worry, you know I will keep in touch. I’m sure she will do fine but if we need you I will call you right away. I will always keep her safe Y/N. You are both very important to me, I–to Amy and I both. You know that.” 

If he were any closer he would feel the heat coming off your cheeks. You were surprised it wasn’t boiling the water while you washed the dishes. “Oh…I, yeah. I, we know that. You are both very important to us too and I trust you completely Mingyu. She can just be a little sensitive, or you know, even dramatic sometimes. I was just wanting to warn you.” 

Mingyu bites at his bottom lip pressing down on the lids of the containers glancing up at you to watch you rub the tips of your fingers together, soap dripping from your hands. “It’s okay. They are young, they’ve both already been through a lot. We can let them just be kids, can’t we? For one night?” 

Your gentle smile and nod causes Mingyu to mirror it moving to the fridge to put one of the containers away, placing the other next to your purse on the counter. “This one's for you to take home. You don’t need to cook tomorrow. You said you don’t know what to do with yourself alone? Put on your most comfortable pajamas, heat up the soup, get a glass of wine, turn on the tv, and turn off the world for the night.” 

It sounded like a dream. Something you never had time to do. Most nights after you got Mina home you barely took time to wash your makeup off completely before you fell into bed exhausted only to wake up the next morning, rise, and repeat. Mingyu grins, lifting his hand to cautiously push a piece of your hair from your eyes. “Then take a bath, not a shower. Take more than ten minutes to take care of yourself. Relax for once…” 

When you laugh and don’t pull away from his hand, Mingyu takes a subtle breath in gaining some courage. “I mean…I could try those things. It will be easier said than done.” You watch him laugh, a nod of understanding, his body leaned up against the counter next to you, closer than he had ever dared to stand before. 

“I get that but if you want to text me or call me to see how she is doing I won’t judge you. I will understand it completely. I will expect it actually, you are a great mother.” Your brain was running a million miles an hour. Has he always smelled this nice? When had his hand wrapped around your wrist? Why did it feel so nice to be touched by someone again? 

“Thank you, Mingyu. Really, like I said, I don’t say it enough. You literally make it possible for me to have the job I do so that I can take care of Mina.” Mingyu smiles so bright even as his brows furrow, his hands moving the towel along yours to dry them off. “I already told you that you never have to thank me for that.” 

“I know what you said but…” You walk with him, his gentle hand on your wrist leading you towards the living room only to stop short when he glances up to the doorframe then down the hall towards Amy’s room. Your eyes follow his making your words fall short into a small laugh when you see the poorly placed mistletoe that makes your chest and stomach feel warm and full. 

“Climbing on the furniture?” Mingyu nods, his fingers very softly tapping against your pulse point keeping you close but never making you stay. “I think they are trying to tell us something.” You chew at your bottom lip considering that and how Mina had acted the night before when you hear the sound of whispers from behind you and Mingyu. 

Neither girl was as quiet as she thought she was but both you and Mingyu could pretend for them to help them keep their little Hallmark moment. Tilting your head, your eyes narrow very slightly at Mingyu when you take a step backwards towards the living room bringing him with you under the doorframe and the mistletoe. 

Mingyu chuckles quietly under his breath, his glance over your shoulder barely finding the girls as they peek over the sofa waiting with baited breath for you both to follow the Christmas rules. When Mingyu looks up at the mistletoe showing faux surprise you can’t help but to laugh quickly covering it up by pressing your lips together. “Well, Miss. Y/L/N we seem to have found ourselves under the mistletoe. There are rules about that aren’t there?” 

Amy squeals only for Mina to elbow her side, muttering for her to be quiet while they watch. You roll your eyes at the perfectly charming and silly gentleman in front of you. His hand moves from your wrist to your cheek so he can push your hair over your ear waiting for you to speak but he almost renders you speechless with one simple act. “I–oh. Mistletoe?” 

Mingyu watches your eyes move to glance at the mistletoe before they meet him again taking his breath away. The Christmas light plays off the color of your eyes making them sparkle. “There are rules, I believe you owe me a kiss Mr. Kim.” You watch a smile spread wider across his lips when you all but ask for him to kiss you. He had been waiting for that moment for months. 

“You’re right, I’m such a fool. I knew that, may I?” His thumb on your cheek, his fingers splayed along the side of your face next to your ear Mingyu leans towards you when you nod and whisper yes and a small please. Mina is the one who lets out a small squeal this time when Mingyu’s lips brush over yours. 

“It worked Amy…” Her little eyes threatening tears once again, she clings to her best friend while you two share your first simple kiss. It wasn’t anything they hadn’t seen in their movies but it felt more important even when you two stepped away from each other and laughed. You both seemed to glow in your daughter’s eyes. To them it was like seeing you both really happy for the first time in possibly forever. 

Mingyu rubs his lips together, having to fight the urge to want to kiss you again and more fully. His eyes meet yours as you laugh, the warmth of your cheek under his thumb making him laugh when you reach up to move his hand down. Clearing your throat you carefully step away fixing your hair back from around your ear turning around pretending to be surprised when you see the girls behind the couch. “Girls! Were you spying?” 

Both girls giggle loudly and duck back down making your and Mingyu’s hearts feel impossibly warmer and larger that night. His fingers brush over yours again causing you to look up at him meeting his gaze when he winks at you. He was entirely unfair. You look away like a shy school girl hearing him laugh moving his hand away walking into the living room to look for the girls as he leaned over the couch. 

“Now how did that mistletoe get there hmm?” Amy looks up at her dad with a grin and a laugh only to be picked up and pulled over the couch in a fit of giggles. You watch as Mina moves around the couch trying to playfully help her friend, Mingyu letting the two girls quickly over take him beating him in “fair” combat before he surrenders only to pin them both, tickling them into another giggle fit. 

You rest your hand against your chest over your heart leaning against the door frame still under the mistletoe while you watch. Tears threatening your eyes much like they had for Mina as you listen to her giggle louder than you had in months or maybe even years. If anyone had asked you what you wanted for Christmas at that exact moment you’d tell them nothing because you had just been given it. 

“Mistletoe, add a big check. In fact, I think we can use the red colored pencil.” Amy laughs at Mina’s enthusiasm, the notebook on her lap, colored pencils laying on her bed next to her. “Got it. So, the teacher today was talking about how at holidays we get presents, right?”  

Mina nods along with Amy’s words, her eyes following the other small hand as Amy makes the check mark next to the word mistletoe. “But she said that mommy’s and daddy’s don’t always want toys or games like we do.” Mina furrows her brows because this had been something she understood even though she did very much want a new doll from her list she also knew she wanted her family plans with Amy more. 

“Yeah, she said to write them a letter telling them how much you love them.” Amy smiles, her brows wiggling much like Mina had seen Mr. Kim’s before after he had told them he had a surprise only for it to be dessert. “What Amy? Do you have an idea?” Nodding, the other girl moves to her knees on her bed, tearing out two sheets of paper from the notebook and handing one to Mina. 

“We write letters to them and tell them why we think they should get married. I think they are already there. If this were on Hallmark we’d be only like two commercials from the end of the movie and the wedding. Your mommy needs time to pick out the best dress and my daddy probably already has a ring. He’s super smart like that.” Mina looked at her piece of paper before picking up a purple pencil considering her best friend’s words. She did have a point, if they were living by their movie logic this was all very much to plan but their parents could use a little push in the right direction. 

“So a list of props and coms?” Amy nods excited, already scribbling on her page with a green pencil. “Yeah if you want to do it that way. Like they should get married because then your mommy wouldn’t have to worry about driving as far to work anymore.” Mina makes a sound of appreciation before nodding. Her pencil moves across her own page as she starts her list. 

“Seriously, Amy…this is why you have all the stickers on your grade sheet. You really are one of the smartest people I know. Like mommy is the smartest then your daddy but you are right up there with them.” Amy beams at the compliment only looking up from her letter to her dad to watch Mina work for a moment. This was already the best sleepover either of them had ever had ever had, even if it was the first. 

Mingyu had fed the girls dinner over an hour ago, leftover soup, before letting them go off to play. He had already told them they could stay up for a little while longer than usual but that he wouldn’t be tricked into letting them pull an all-nighter. Deep down he knew that neither of them would be able to do that no matter how hard they’d want to try. 

Now he found himself stretched out on his favorite spot on the couch, his phone on his chest while he flipped aimlessly through channels on tv. Nothing had really caught his attention yet but mostly because he couldn’t get you off his mind. He had sent you a text just letting you know that everything was going well, you had responded happily to know it. 

His lips pursed, Mingyu had told himself not to bother you beyond that. He himself had given you the advice to turn the world off. How could you do that if you had him texting you the entire night? It didn’t stop him from kinda wishing you would, even if it wasn’t about Mina. He had started to wonder if you hadn’t felt the same way about the innocent kiss as he had. 

You were staring at your phone ignoring the tv completely. It would be so easy to just pick up the phone and text him, or even call him. You could even use the excuse of wanting to check on Mina. God that felt cheap, using your daughter as an excuse. Picking up your wine you all but pout into the glass taking a long sip of the alcohol lost in thought. 

Why were you being such a wimp about this? He was just a guy, but was he? Of course he wasn’t. It was Mingyu. Mr. PTA, Mr. drooled over by every single other mother even the ones who weren’t single. This was Amy’s dad and at the end of the day that’s what really mattered. 

Your wine sat down next to your phone, you swipe up the empty soup bowl taking it to the kitchen to wash only to glance back over your shoulder to the phone. “Fine…fine! Jesus, maybe he won’t think I’m completely pathetic.” Plopping back down on the couch you pick up the phone, pulling your legs under you before beginning to plot out what you’d try to text first. 

Y/N: Hi, please don’t think I am a helicopter mom. How are things with Mina? How is your evening going?

God, had you sounded desperate? Was there an unsend button? There really was no way to put in an “autocorrect” mistake with how you had typed this. It was pretty clear and to the point that this was how you had meant to type the message. Picking up your wine you take a larger sip and wait, your knee bouncing lightly against the material of the couch from nerves. 

Mingyu felt his phone vibrate on his chest causing him to jump slightly glancing around as if someone was going to point and laugh at him for being startled by it. When he saw no one else, he cleared his throat and grinned seeing your name. Of course you had asked about Mina, he had expected nothing else but you had also asked about his evening. 

Kim Mingyu: Hey! Please, I’ve told you that you are a great mom. That will never change. Things are great, the girls were playing in Amy’s room. Quiet, perhaps too quiet but they are good kids. I don’t think I have much to worry about. Do you want me to tell her you said hi? I’m doing pretty good, just watching some tv. How about you? Are you trying to relax? Did you follow my advice?

Y/N: Yes, please, and tell her that I love her. Your evening sounds a bit like mine but yes I am trying to follow your advice. (picture attached) 

Smiling Mingyu looks at the picture of the wine in your hand, the base resting against your leg that was covered in fuzzy Christmas themed pajama pants decorated with candy canes. His stomach felt tighter knowing you were comfortable and he hoped that you had little to no worries. It made him feel good to know that maybe he had helped you feel that way at least for a little while. 

Kim Mingyu: Of course I will tell her. Very cute. I think I have a matching pair. Oh I think that there is some cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie on. If you are into that sort of thing. It looked pretty sweet. Just another recommendation. 

‘Very cute’ This was fine. You were fine. Your cheeks were simply burning from your face from your wine not his text. Sure, and you hadn’t thought about kissing him again all day long. Sighing out a long slow breath you take a sip of your wine shaking your head to try to clear it. 

Y/N: Oh? I will have to take a look. Is that what you are watching? A cheesy romantic movie alone on a Friday night?

Again, why was there not an unsend button on phones? You would think that the creators of such technology would know that people could not be trusted with their own words and needed at least a minute between each text being seen to consider what they had done. Instead you watch the message go to read and the three little bubbles pop up signaling that Mingyu was typing back to you. 

Mingyu laughs, reaching behind his head to scratch at his neck. Was that a burn mixed in with a flirt? Is that what is happening right now? He didn’t want to presume but at the same time he was so tired of being afraid to do or say anything around you. He had shown that last night, granted a lot of it had been to not disappoint the girls but also to not disappoint himself for the 100th night in a row. 

Kim Mingyu: Sometimes, all I’m missing is a glass of wine and someone to watch it with. I’d invite you to join me but I already gave you the night off. Should we do a rain check?

Was that a date invitation? Has the world begun to spin in the other direction? You were incredibly off kilter staring at your phone and his text in thought. Your fingers rubbing together, you chew on your lips trying to weigh out the pros and cons of accepting and rejecting him. If you accepted the rain check, pros would be; a lovely evening with a movie, a nice glass of wine, perhaps another kiss, who knows what else. Which then led you to the cons; who knew what would happen. It could end miserably and ruin your friendship with Mingyu while also ruining a friendship for your daughter. 

Y/N: As much as I’d like to say yes to that, perhaps we need to remember who we are and who is around us. 

His hands felt like weights but Mingyu understood what you were saying even if he didn’t want to. Leaning his head back on the couch, he sighed heavily when he heard a soft whimpering sound from behind him. Laying the phone down Mingyu shifted to look seeing Mina standing in the hall rubbing her eyes, tears running towards her lips. 

“Mina, honey, what’s wrong? Come here.” The small girl wasted no time moving towards the couch curling her smaller body up to his making Mingyu take in a deep breath, his hand pushing her hair back so he could check her over for injuries or any signs of what was making her upset. “Talk to me, why are you crying? Did something happen with Amy?” 

Shaking her head Mina whimpers looking up only resulting in making Mingyu coo in concern. His large thumbs wiping away her tears that seemed far too large for her small eyes. “Amy’s asleep. I was too but I had a bad dream and woke up. Mommy’s not here.” 

Mingyu frowned but nodded, holding the little girl closer trying to comfort her like he had with Amy many times before. “You want me to call your mommy? She already told me to tell you hi and that she loves you but I know she’d be over here in just a little while to get you if you want her to. No one is making you stay the entire night Mina.” 

Mina whines, shaking her head fervently, her hand gripping at Mingyu’s sweater. “I don’t wanna go home yet. I miss mommy but I don’t wanna leave. I wanna do the sleepover.” Mingyu nods, leaning to pick up his phone, pressing your picture on the screen to call you, making your brows furrow when you see his face pop up on your screen, having only expected a text message back. 

“Hello?” You clear your throat answering the phone, the screen pressed to your ear, nerves eating at your stomach making you wonder even more why he was calling. It isn’t until you hear Mina’s tiny sobs that you sit up more in concern. Your voice quickly changes pitch, “Is she okay? I’m getting my shoes.” 

“Y/N, no no, she’s okay. She just had a bad dream. She said she’s missing you. I thought if she could talk to you on the phone it might help. She was adamant she didn’t want to leave the sleepover.” Your whine reminds Mingyu of Mina’s causing him to close his eyes before he hands the phone to Mina who holds it with two hands to her wet cheek to meet her ear. 

“Mommy?” Her shaky voice almost breaks your heart but also warms it at the same time causing you to sink back down on the couch. “Baby, are you okay? Talk to me. Min-Mr. Kim said you had a bad dream?” 

You listen as the little girl recounts what she can remember of her dream. Something about a dark room at school and no one remembering to pick her up. Something that had never and would never happen, she knew that even as you promised and explained it. “Baby I will be there first thing in the morning to pick you up, I swear. Are you sure you don’t want me to come get you tonight? You know it doesn’t ruin the sleepover right?” 

Mina whines causing you to smile, “Mommy no, please and if you come too early that isn’t good either. I wanna eat breakfast here. I’ve never had Mr. Kim’s breakfast. Wait Mommy you come eat breakfast too, like a family? Please?”

Mingyu watches Mina curiously, his brow raising at the word family. He was surprised how much it made his heart tighten and how much he wanted you to agree to the invitation. You chew on your lip with a sigh bringing your fingers up to pinch at the bridge of your nose considering everything that had happened, including turning Mingyu’s date invitation down. 

“Mina…” The sound of your voice makes Mina start to tear up because she’s heard you say her name that way so many times, that is your ‘I’m about to say something disappointing’ tone. “Mommy, please!” The panic in her voice causes your heart rate to speed up when you realize how important this is to her, you weren’t stupid you had heard her call it a family. 

“I–okay. I’ll be there for breakfast.” Mingyu watches the smile form on Mina’s lips making it impossible for him not to smile. “She said she’ll come to breakfast. I’ll even set the table Mr. Kim, I promise I’ll sleep the rest of the night. I love you Mommy. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Mingyu takes the phone back, able to hear you tell Mina that you love her too, so much, just before the girl slides off the couch running back towards Amy’s room and bed. “She’s back to bed I guess.” You let out a tired laugh feeling a bit caught by your daughter, leaning back on to your couch with a small groan. 

“I told you she’s dramatic. I’m sorry Mingyu, I’m sure I can just take her out for breakfast once I get there. You don’t have to cook all that food for us.” Mingyu frowns when you start to talk your way out of breakfast, his disappointment clear in his voice. “I won’t make you stay for breakfast but I would very much like for you to be there too. It really did seem important to Mina…and now I’ll be honest it’s starting to feel important to me as well.” 

The silence on the phone is almost deafening to Mingyu, he can hear your soft breath but he has no idea what you are doing or thinking. Had he crossed a line? “Y/N? I’m sorry if I–” You shake your head and speak up to cut him off when he starts to apologize. “No, I’m sorry. I’m really guarded for myself and for Mina. It’s been hard Mingyu, but I’m sure you have your own understanding of that. It’s easier to push away than it is to let anyone close.” 

If there was anything he understood it was that. There had been other opportunities in the past for relationships but he had never even truly considered them, not until you. He was terrified to hurt Amy and in honesty he was afraid to get hurt. Now he was afraid to hurt you and Mina though he knew he’d never do it on purpose. 

“Yeah, no I get that completely. But if I can tell you something without you maybe thinking that I am a complete idiot or hell, that I’m going too fast…” You feel yourself start to panic at his words but you stay silent wanting to hear what he has to say. “Don’t we deserve a chance? Don’t the girls deserve it maybe? I don’t mean to use the girls like that, because that isn’t what I’m trying to do so please don’t think I am, but it’s very clear to me that they are trying to say something.” 

You know he isn’t wrong so you nod but then remember it’s a phone call. “You are right. They have been…trying. Dinners, mistletoe, “family”. Mingyu, what if things don’t work out for us? That’s all I can think about. I’m truly the worst when it comes to this. I make a list of pros and cons and even if my pros list is 100 times longer than my cons list those cons weigh 1000 times more. “ 

Mingyu sighs into a laugh and you can picture him nodding, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve thought about that too, but I’ve also wanted to give this a try for months. Kissing you yesterday was more than just because of some mistletoe and because the girls wanted us to. I should have asked to kiss you long before that. There is so much I want to give you in your life and in Mina’s…because you have given Amy and I so much already.” 

“Mingyu, please.” He smiles when you almost cut him off, your voice pleading in such a soft way it makes him wish you were beside him so he could touch you. “I’m serious Y/N. One step at a time maybe? We don’t have to say anything to the girls yet, we can just see how we feel and we can also remember that no matter how it goes for us we aren’t the important ones at the end of the day. What do you think?” 

More of that deafening silence, god you were good with suspense. Mingyu chewed at his cheek looking over the lights of the Christmas tree, the gentle flickering almost memorizing him until you finally spoke. “Okay, I’d like to try, as long as we really do promise to remember to keep the girls first and not ruin their relationship.” 

“I promise, with my entire heart I will not let that happen. I also will do my best to never hurt you, I think you’ve had enough of that in your life.” You close your eyes and mutter under your breath making Mingyu’s brows furrow while he leans forward looking down at his hand between his knees. “What did you say? You were really quiet.” 

Your laugh makes him smile once again even as you sigh. “I was mainly talking to myself but I was just saying, please don’t say that to me Mingyu.” He shakes his head letting his teeth pull at his bottom lip not willing to give up that easily. “Sorry, no take backs. I mean what I say.” 

Mingyu couldn’t help how many times he looked at you during breakfast. He hadn’t had the chance to see you early in the morning on too many occasions and if he had to admit it to himself he would love this opportunity more often. If it were possible you were even more beautiful in the early light, the sunlight in your hair, that soft smile on your lips any time you caught him staring at you. 

Your cheeks had not stopped burning from the moment you had stepped inside the Kim residence an hour or so ago. Mingyu’s handsome smile kept catching your eye and you kept finding him unabashedly watching you. There was no way his attention was going unnoticed by the girls so you just did your best to keep yourself calm and not give off the wrong impression. 

“So, did you enjoy the sleepover girls? What did you do?” Mina smiles at you, glancing between you and Mingyu before stabbing at her pancake while Amy answers your question. “We painted our nails, oh and daddy’s. Show Miss. Y/L/N how pretty we did daddy.” Mingyu sighs before extending his fingers out to you to show the pink nail polish covering some of his nails. 

You laugh reaching to take his fingers into your hand running your thumb over his index fingernail appraising their work with a nod. “Mmm yes, this is good work. You will have to keep helping him out. There is no way he can look this pretty all on his own.” 

Mingyu’s thumb grazes your palm causing you to look up into his eyes, your hand slowly moving from his. A smile growing larger on his lips when you clear your throat looking back at the kids. “What else did you do?” The girls go on to explain how they colored, played dolls, and made you both a present drawing Mingyu’s attention with those final words. 

Even with his mouth full of pancake he makes a questioning sound tilting his head. “What sort of present?” Mina laughs at his muffled words shaking her head, “Mr. Kim! Don’t talk with your mouth full, bad manners.” When you laugh putting your fingers over your lips, Mingyu smiles looking over at you nodding before looking back to Mina after swallowing his bite of food. 

“Mmm you are right, I apologize. My manners have returned, I promise. Now explain these presents.” You can’t seem to take your eyes off of Mingyu until Amy starts to speak, talking about how you two will have to wait until after breakfast. “They are like early Christmas presents but you have to get them before Christmas, you understand?” 

Neither of you really understood but yet you both nodded to keep the girls happy telling them to finish their breakfast. Shared looks of some concern, you and Mingyu sip at your coffees when he nods and gets up to start clearing the table. “Well I can tell you this, no matter if we are getting early gifts or not, that does not mean anyone else is getting early Christmas gifts. I will not be bribed.” 

Watching the girls finish their pancakes, you smile at Mingyu’s playful words before you stand to start helping him clean up. Each girl handing over their plate giggling when turned with a small surprised gasp to find Mingyu right behind you. “Sorry, I was going to…” Mingyu takes a step back so he isn’t breathing on to your cheek, his gaze unconsciously lingering over your lips. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got the dishes this time. Why don’t you and the girls just enjoy the Christmas tree for a little bit while I finish up? Then we can figure out this present ordeal…” Mingyu smiles when you nod, taking a step away from him. Your eyes glancing back over your shoulder even as the girls pull on either of your hands to drag you towards the living room excited to turn on a movie with you. 

By the time Mingyu finishes and makes his way to the living room he stops short in order to just take in the scene. Mina curled up against your right side and Amy on your left, both of the girls watching some Christmas movie on the tv while your fingers brush over their hair. This was what Mingyu wanted for Christmas, no one had asked him of course but they never needed to. He didn’t want physical possessions, he wanted this with you. 

You smile when you look up realizing Mingyu is leaning against the wall watching you. Gesturing with your head you signal for him to join you with the kids. Amy is the first of the kids to notice her dad smiling brightly when he moves to sit beside her putting his arm behind you all on the couch. Her eyes meet Mina’s across your lap where they share an enthusiastic smile. Neither one wanted to move just yet, this was the closest thing they had to a “complete” family for their entire life. 

Logically both of them knew that not every family had a mommy and a daddy. All families were built differently but it hadn’t stopped them from wanting that dream and when they had become friends it all had started to fit together like a puzzle that somehow no one had lost any of the pieces. Mina nuzzles against your stomach making you smile, your fingers threading through her soft hair while Amy drags your hand from her head down to her side where Mingyu’s free hand is, your hands brushing lightly. 

Mingyu takes in a deep breath meeting your eyes, a gentle smile on his lips as the small girl’s hand tries to hold both of you closely. Neither of you had the heart to move them now. Not while they watched their movie, not while they seemed so content and happy. You wanted more happy days for Mina. Mingyu wanted them for Amy. 

When you lean your head back and to the side, finding Mingyu’s arm behind you, the corner of his lips turn up. “I can move if you want.” He smiles a bit brighter when you shake your head no but you also don’t move your head. Instead he watches you lean your head against his arm while you watch the movie. Mingyu isn’t sure what the movie is even about, he isn’t sure he’d even care now. He can’t take his eyes off you or his mind off the feeling of you against him. 

If it wasn’t for the cheerful music signaling the end of the movie not even the kids would have really realized the movie was over. They too had started to enjoy the warmth of the four of you curled up on the couch, the fire crackling nearby. Amy stretches, finally letting go of your and Mingyu’s hands leaning up to stretch, Mina quickly mimicking her. You both watch as smiles spread across their faces before the girls slide off the couch. “Both of you just…stay here.” 

Mingyu laughs though he glances at you a bit sad when you sit up and slightly away from him but he knows why. “We won’t move Mina.” Amy grabs her hand dragging her towards her bedroom to presumingly grab the ‘early Christmas presents.’ You take a breath stretching a bit on the couch before feeling his eyes on you causing you to look over at Mingyu. 

“Hi…” Just a simple word from his lips makes your skin prickle and a shy smile to creep along your lips. When you glance down at your hands Mingyu laughs, glancing back towards the hall to check on the girls before sliding closer to you. His fingers gently tilting your head back up to look at him. “I’m really glad you are here Y/N. I’m glad you came to breakfast and that you haven’t left yet…this is really nice seeing you for longer. Not feeling like you are always rushing out the door needing to get something done.” 

His fingers push your hair along your neck causing your eyes to move along his face, from his lips to his eyes while you listen to him talk. “And I hope you don’t find me to be too forward and possibly an ass but if I don’t just say what I’m thinking with you I’ll chicken out and never say anything.” You laugh finding yourself just barely leaning into his delicate touch. “I think…I’d rather you just say it Mingyu. I can’t play games. Like you said I’m always rushing and there is a reason for that usually.” 

Mingyu’s thumb glides along your cheekbone while his eyes seem to trace over your face like he wants to commit it to memory. “But we also have to be careful around the girls and not forget our promises. Remember?” He nods but doesn’t move, he simply points to his ear and smiles at you. “I’m listening for them and you can see over my shoulder. I just wanted a moment and I’ll move back, but I have to tell you that you are so beautiful. You always are but this morning you have taken my breath away every single time I have looked at you.” 

Mingyu laughs when you try to look away, his thumb catching your chin turning your head back up to him. Your shy eyes meet his once again while he speaks. “And I know you know I have been looking at you quite a bit today. I apologize for that, I know it’s forward of me, but again like you said, no more games.” 

You start to speak but Mingyu drops his hand and slides back a couple of inches, clearly hearing something you hadn’t but then you see the girls move around the hall. He smiles at you giving you a quick wink when you sit up a bit more trying to make it appear as if nothing was going on. You both quickly find out that neither of the kids would have noticed anyway, both of them holding a decorated piece of folded paper in their hands, their eyes on the paper. 

“What ya got girls?” You smile at Mingyu's voice that seems to bring the kids out of their concentration and back to reality. Mina looks to Amy for her to take the lead knowing she had the most courage of the two of them. You feel your heart tighten slightly leaning forward reaching for Mina who takes a step towards you but doesn’t offer you the paper just yet. 

“So we were learning about how not everybody wants toys and games for Christmas in school.” Mingyu nods along with Amy’s words reaching up to push her hair behind her ear, a smile on his lips. “Mm, that's very true.” She smiles finally meeting her dad’s eyes, most of her courage returning when she shows him the piece of paper. “Mina and I don’t just want those either. So we’ve made these for you.” 

When Mina hands you the letter, you tilt her head up with your free hand smiling at her gaining one in return. “Did you decorate this too?” She nods, chewing at her lip causing you to laugh. “It’s so pretty, so many colors. Do you want us to read them now?” Mina nods, clearing her throat in an attempt to gain her own courage. 

“Yes, please. They are very portant. I mean important.” Mingyu reaches over to brush his hand over her head when she corrects her word, a smile on his lips as Amy lays her letting in his hand. You watch the girls link their hands taking a few steps back choosing to sit on the floor, their eyes on you both in anticipation. Mingyu sighs a bit nervously, his glance meeting yours while his fingers unfold the letter carefully. You follow his lead doing the same with Mina’s, your eyes beginning to move over the page and her obviously carefully written words. 

‘Dear Mommy, 

First of tall, I love you very much. You are the best mommy in the whold wide world. Thank you for being my mommy. I do want dolls for Cristmas but I want something else too so I know how you make lists. I thoght I could do that too. 

Props and Coms to you and Mr. Kim getting married: ‘ 

You look up at your daughter, your cheeks burning warm even though she smiles at you. Her spelling has gotten much better, that was your first observation. You were very proud of her but the context of the letter while not surprising was still a shock. Mingyu glances over at your letter, unable to stop the smile that crosses his lips before he returns to his own. 

‘Dear Daddy,

I love you mostest. Even more than chocolate ice cream. I know you are the smartost person in the world so this won’t be a surprise. I don’t think I want anything for Cristmas. I mean if you ready got me presents that’s ok, I know Santa will bring more. I have been real good. But I want you to marry Miss. Y/L/N. I want her to be my mommy. I know she makes you smile like when I tell you a joke even though she is not funny. She’s really pretty. I know you tink so too. So I figure you ready have a ring like the boys in the Hallmark movie so maybe you can give it to her on Cristmas. Be a gennleman daddy. 

Love, Amy’ 

Mingyu takes a deep breath finishing his letter while you are still going over the list of pros and cons or as Mina had put them props and coms for why you and Mingyu should be married. Less time on the road for you, she could have a daddy, you could have a husband. You sink into the couch continuing to read, realizing there were no “coms”. 

Mina chews on her cheek watching you carefully finally moving to her feet to come to your side looking over your arm. Her little finger pointing to the last “prop” on her list. “That one is my most important reason. I like to see you smile and Mr. Kim does that the most.” 

You swallow hard, attempting to keep yourself composed while you nod at her explanation. All eyes following your hands when you fold your letter back up and put it in your lap. “Um…girls.” That tone in your voice, the disappointing one that Mina knew. Amy watches Mina’s bottom lip start to tremble, the girl sliding from your grip but you aren’t quick enough to catch her before Mina is down the hall. 

Mingyu frowns a bit folding his own letter, he wasn’t sure how to react to it all either. He hated to disappoint the girls but it wasn’t as easy as they wanted it to be. He watches you run your fingers through your hair before you stand and follow Mina down the hall, the soft click of a door opening and shutting then silence. 

Amy doesn’t look up at her dad, the disappointment hanging in the air like a heavy fog. “Amy?” Hearing her name, she still doesn’t look up, instead Amy makes a sound to acknowledge that she had heard her dad causing him to slide off the couch into the floor with her. “It was a very nice letter, from both of you. A wonderful gift, thank you baby.” 

She was strong, rarely cried so when tears slipped down her cheeks Mingyu had to hold his own back. “Oh, no honey. Listen, Y/N and I…adults are complicated. It’s not like the movies. Baby no one is trying to hurt you or Mina. I would give anything to give you the family you obviously want so badly…but things don’t happen for anyone in two hours like you see on tv. I know what you and Mina are trying to do and it’s so sweet of you both but can you do me a favor and try to let me and Y/N worry about the heavy stuff?” 

Amy lets her dad hold her close, his fingers brushing away her tears while she nods. His heart still beating quickly listening to her soft sobs. “You are so young, don’t worry about playing matchmaker right now. Just worry about having fun with your best friend, about school, and about how much you are going to enjoy Christmas.” 

Mingyu watches his daughter shrug her shoulders, his cheek meeting her forehead while he listens to her talk between soft whimpers. “I will try, but daddy I just wanted us to be…” He nods as her voice trails off because he knows what she wanted and honestly what he was wanting too. “All I can ask is that you try.” 

Mina clings to you, both of you sitting on Amy’s bed surrounded by stuffed animals and dolls. Her little hands hold tightly into your sweater even though you knew she was upset at you. You hadn’t pressured her to talk, you had only told her how much you loved her and how sorry you were to disappoint her. It felt like you were always disappointing her. 

“Did I not write it good enough?” Your own eyes close tightly, fighting back the urge to let tears slip from your eyes. “You wrote the letter so well. It was beautiful, Mina. I just need for you to try to understand that life doesn’t work that way. No matter if we want it to or not.” 

She didn’t understand that, not when you looked so happy around Mr. Kim and then when you were at home you seemed sad. This was just logical to Mina. “I have so much to think about when it comes to who I would be with. My own pros and cons list would be much different, baby. You didn’t list a single con but I’m afraid there are always going to be cons.” 

Mina shakes her head glancing up at you like you are speaking gibberish. “Like what? He’s so  nice. You are nice. He cooks good and he has Amy. He’s a good daddy.” Your fingers work to untangle her hair while you sigh nodding. “You are right, I don’t disagree with those baby, but what about if Mr. Kim and I don’t end up getting along? I have to put you first always. Everyday I wake up with you in my mind and how I can make your life better.” 

You watch her eyes blink out large tears that trail over her cheeks only to be wiped away by you. “My life, our life would be better with them.” You didn’t disagree with her but you couldn’t give her false hope when you were so uncertain of everything. The relationship with Mingyu had barely even begun. “Maybe, yes, but how about we just take this all one day at a time? Can you do that for me?” 

You get a skeptical look from Mina who only when she meets your sad eyes does she nod. “Thank you. I love you so much, Mina and I would never hurt you. Not if I can help it, it is my job to keep you safe and healthy. That’s why I have to make decisions you might not like or go slowly with things even if it’s not how you want it to be right now. I know that’s a lot, maybe for you to understand but let’s just get through Christmas okay?” 

Mina sighs, reaching up to wipe her nose with the back of her hand making you sigh. “Okay but only if you promise we will come here for Christmas.” She was so good at trapping you when you were weak, truly your child. “Okay, we will come here for Christmas, but only if you put this behind you and work hard at school.” 

Sitting up Mina offers you her pinky drawing another sigh out of your mouth. “It’s serious business mommy.” You laugh, nodding when you link your pinky with hers, both of you leaning to kiss the top of your fingers sealing your promise. “No take backs.” 

There were a few days when you were able to sleep in. Very few holidays that were deemed important enough that your work actually allowed you to have them off but Christmas was one of them. So you hadn’t set an alarm, instead you had planned foolishly to allow yourself time to sleep thinking you would get to sleep in to maybe even 8 in the morning. 

When Mina’s body lands on top of yours, her excited voice in your ear all you can manage is a whine. Your hand pulling at her to tug her under the covers trying to make her realize it was far too early for this. “Mommy, Merry Christmas! We have to get up, what? No! No, under the covers silly. It’s already 5 in the morning. We are going to be late!” 

“Late?!” You whine out the word and tug your daughter back to you hugging her tightly making her laugh. “I promise you Mina that Mingyu and Amy are not getting up right now, and if Amy has, Mingyu has done this exact thing to her. Now shh, sleep more.” Mine smiles curling her body into yours nuzzling under your chin listening to you talk. 

“Mommy?” Her voice makes you let out a tired questioning sound, her fingers playing with the fabric of your night shirt. “You said Mr. Kim’s first name. You’ve been doing that a lot more.” Shaking your head, you pull her closer turning on your back. Mina watches you throw your arm over your face in the low light, a laugh on her lips. “Go back to sleep Mina. Give me at least another hour. Your mom is tired, and all she wants for Christmas is sleep.” 

Mina smiles at your words nudging up against you with a small yawn, she had been wide awake but why was your bed always more comfortable than hers? It was so warm and you were so warm and felt so safe. She only nods a couple times before Mina is back asleep on your chest in a few minutes. 

You hadn’t been wrong that Amy had attempted to wake Mingyu up just as early only to be wrapped in a blanket now squished up next to him softly snoring. Mingyu had managed to get around an hour more of sleep but as the sun began to rise he couldn’t help but open his eyes along with it. It seemed unusually bright, Mingyu had to squint sliding out of bed carefully not to wake Amy making his way over to the window to peek out. He can’t help but to smile a bit seeing a fresh layer of snow on the ground. “She’s getting everything she wants for Christmas it seems…” 

Amy whines making Mingyu turn around seeing his daughter waking back up. She was struggling with his blanket that he had wrapped around her in attempts to in his own way swaddle his 6 year old daughter. A laugh falling from his lips he moves to help her untangle the fabric letting her sit up and stretch, her hair pointing in all different directions while she squints from the same light that had woken him up. “It’s bright…” 

Mingyu runs his hand over her hair trying to tame some of the hair but he knows only a brush will really do the trick. “Mmhm, you should go into the living room and see why.” Amy grins, beginning to catch on to her dad’s meaning. Mingyu chuckles following behind his daughter, her feet hitting the hardwood floors quickly in excitement, a happy gasp leaving her mouth when she finally crawls up on the couch to look out of the window seeing the snow. 

“Christmas miracles! Daddy, I asked Santa for snow!” Mingyu pretends to not know everything that Amy had asked for, simply letting his eyes widen in surprise. “And it seems like he probably left a bunch of the other stuff under the tree.” Amy giggles when Mingyu sits down next to her before she glances towards the tree in awe at all the different gifts. 

“Woah! Why are there so many?” Mingyu can’t help but to cover his amused smile with his hand shrugging a bit when Amy crawls off into the floor to look at the gifts. “Oh my gosh, daddy! Santa brought Mina’s gifts here! How did he know? That’s so cool! You should call Miss. Y/L/N and tell her right now.” 

Amy keeps carefully digging through the gifts, almost beginning to sort them while Mingyu shakes his head suppressing his laughter. “Should I? I will send her a text. How does that sound? Then I will start breakfast and you will keep your little paws off the presents. You will instead go take a brush to your hair and try to make it look like you didn’t get electrocuted.” 

Pursing her lips in confusion, Amy turns to sit on her knees looking up at her dad as he pulls his phone from his sweatpants. She watches him send you a quick text, her head titling before he meets her eyes and laughs at her expression. “What’s that look for?”

“What’s lectrocuted?” Mingyu sighs and shakes his head trying to think how he could explain it, reading a text back from you, a grin spreading over his face. “It’s uh…you know what electricity is. The lights, when you get shocked. Your hair goes all over like that. Now go brush your hair Einstein. Mina will be here soon.” 

“My name is Amy, you know my name Daddy. Just because you were reading your phone…gosh boys are so weird.” Laughing Mingyu simply puts his phone on the counter getting to work on Christmas breakfast hoping he will have at least most of it done before you arrive.

When you and Mina finally make it inside you are pulling her back to get her out of her jacket and shoes before letting her run off to find Amy. The smell of food hitting your nose makes you take in a deep breath, your mouth watering almost instantly. Walking through the house you find Mingyu in the kitchen, a smile on his face when you are finally close enough. “You finally just let yourself in for once.” 

He laughs watching you roll your eyes, his own eyes surveying behind you only to step closer his hand running along your hip to pull you in a bit closer. “Morning…” Your cheeks warm instantly at his touch and attention. You still weren’t used to it and having to hide it from the girls made it even harder, but you still can’t help the smile on your lips. “Good morning.” 

Mingyu’s lips press to yours gently and briefly before he lets you turn your head to see what he is working on at the stove. “It’s almost done. I thought I’d go a little traditional and a little not. I made some waffles, bacon, eggs, kimchi fried rice, and pajeon.” You shake your head reaching to pick up a piece of the bacon, biting off a piece then putting it to his mouth letting him take the rest from your fingers.

“You cooked enough for 10 people, Gyu.” He laughs swallowing the bacon, his neck heating up when you shorten his name. He still wasn’t used to it but he loved hearing it but he thought to himself there would be other names for him from you he might like even more. “Maybe but we can eat what we have leftover for lunch and then some of this like the rice will heat up really well for snacks.” 

Always thinking ahead. One of the many things you found out that you loved about him. No, that you liked about him. You have to correct yourself even in your head clearing your throat nodding to his words. Taking one of the serving dishes you watch him carry three balancing one plate on his arm making you shake your head while you follow him into the dining room. Your eyes follow him but do seem to travel over his body until he makes a sound having caught you. 

“Hmm, remind me later that I need to give you a Christmas present when we can be alone.” You start to complain but the girls running into the room at the smell of food cuts you off. “Oh my gosh! Mr. Kim, this looks so good!” Mingyu grins at Mina’s complement reaching over to ruffle her hair while the two girls take their seats. You start to move back to help him get the rest of the food but find him standing behind you. 

“I’ve got the rest. Let me get your chair.” Amy makes an ooo sound causing Mina to giggle when Mingyu pulls out your chair for you, letting you sit down. “Daddy, so gentleman like.” Mingyu shoots finger guns at his daughter with a wink playfully making you laugh. “You said it right, I’m proud of you baby.” 

Amy laughs rolling her eyes at her dad’s antics, her gaze finding you while you run your fingers over your hair trying to regain your composure. “Miss. Y/L/N, did daddy tell you about Santa bringing all the gifts here?” You smile at her and nod, leaning to start dishing out some food to the girls while Mingyu brings in the rest taking his seat. 

“He did, that’s very exciting and convenient.” Mina laughs at how you choose to answer Amy picking up her fork stabbing at some of her food. “Amy said there are presents under the tree for you too Mommy and some not from Santa.” You furrow your brows glancing at Mingyu who tries to act innocent shrugging only to hand over the syrup to you. 

“Is that so? Well we will have to take a look after breakfast is all done and cleaned up.” Amy nods in agreement while you raise a brow at Mingyu who simply smiles at you taking a big bite of pajeon. You shake your head amused with him deciding to pay more attention to the girls when you feel his free hand on yours under the table resting on your knee. His thumb gently glides along the back of your hand causing you to pause what you are doing. 

Mingyu smiles at your reaction but he keeps the girls entertained talking to them both about the snow and the possibility of playing in it once all the presents are opened. When you turn your hand over letting his fingers lace with yours it’s his turn to be surprised. Mingyu’s breath catches, his eyes lowering to the table and both of you are pleased to hear the girls continue talking between themselves about their plans. 

With your eyes on his, Mingyu doesn’t even hear when Amy speaks to him until you tap at the back of his hand and gesture with your head towards his daughter. “Mm what did you say sweetie?” Amy laughs, raising a brow at his reaction, some egg on the corner of her lips making him smile. She doesn’t budge even as her dad leans over to wipe them away, her mouth still moving to speak, “You two always take longer than us to eat but today can we maybe just go all together to the living room?” 

Mingyu smirks into a sigh at her question, his hand falling from yours so that he can use both of his hands with his food for a few moments. “Yes, if we make a deal. When you two are finished, go start on dishes. We can work on them together then go open presents. You two always get out of dish duty. Give back since it’s Christmas, help me and your mom.”  

You breath catches at how he says that last sentence and you notice that he seems to pick up on it too. “Mina’s…mom. You know what I mean.” Amy raises her brow even higher if possible glancing at Mina, both girls nodding but not before sharing a look of interest once again. You take a large sip of coffee meeting Mingyu’s eyes over the cup while he shoves food into his mouth only to glance away silently cursing at himself for a slip of his tongue. 

Amy was right in knowing she and Mina would finish first. You and Mingyu watch the two girls gather their plates heading towards the kitchen only to hear the sound of water and their chatter when they leave the two of you alone in the dining room. “Sorry…” Your eyes lift to find Mingyu looking from you to his plate while he pushes around the last bit of food, concern written on his features. 

“For? Why are you apologizing?” Mingyu sighs and almost whines making you laugh, it never ceases to amaze how a man so large could be so small sometimes. “Gyu, it’s fine. Nothing you said was…wrong really. I am a mom and they are now helping out. So where was the reason for you to say sorry?” 

He picks up his coffee finishing off the last bit before sitting the mug back down, a soft breathy sigh slipping from his lips. “I’m trying so hard to keep my promise and keep everything from them but I also just want to be with you. I’m tired of having to pretend like I’m not falling in l..like I’m not in a relationship with you.” You watch him quickly backtrack on his words, your heart racing in your chest. 

“I know, I don’t like it either but we said we wouldn’t tell them anything until we were sure about everything. We can’t risk hurting them. At the end of the day how we feel about each other is the least important thing.” That stung a bit, Mingyu’s face shows that just as much as it felt for you to say it. “Do you mean that Y/N? Or are you just trying to make it make sense?” 

Mingyu watches you swallow hard, your head shaking while you try to come up with words only to fall short. His hand moves along yours on the table to hold it, his thumb sliding gently along your skin. “I won’t make you answer that right now. Let’s just have a good day with the girls and go from there, huh?” You nod in response, leaning your cheek into his lips when he leans to kiss it quickly. 

The table slowly clears leaving you to grab just your own plate and a couple of leftovers so you can join the others in the kitchen. You find Mingyu at the sink having taken over the main washing duty letting the girls dry the dishes. A soft smile forms on your lips even though your stomach was in knots from your earlier words to him. Did you mean it? 

You shake your head answering yourself in your head, no you hadn’t. He was important to you. The way you felt about him and how he felt about you was important, incredibly so. Over the past few weeks he had quickly become someone you looked forward to seeing as often as possible. You never thought that your relationship with him could make him an even better friend to you but you proved yourself wrong once again. 

With the dishes washed and put away, leftovers safely secured for later, you and Mingyu follow the girls into the living room where they are given the go ahead to start going through the gifts. You join Mingyu on the couch sitting a few inches away from him watching Mina and Amy placing gifts into piles. “Are you going to take turns or just open them?” 

Amy considers your question and picks up a gift with a grin that always reminded you of her dad, her eyes finding yours. “Take turns. This one is yours.” You furrow your brows reaching out to take the small long box from her hands to read the tag with a sigh looking at Mingyu who glances away towards the fireplace to avoid you. “Open it mommy.” Your fingers work over the wrapping paper slower than the girls would like but you find Mingyu’s eyes back on you when you finally reach the box under the paper and are able to open it, finding a thin gold bracelet inside. Small delicate gems hanging from the chain in different colors that shimmered in the light from the window making you take a deep breath. 

“Do you recognize all of them?” You nod but quickly shake your head. You knew some of them but there were two you didn’t. Two stones were your and Amy’s birthstones, the others were different but it quickly made you realize who they belonged to. “You and Amy…” Mingyu smiles, reaching to take the bracelet out of the box, setting that to the side so he can put it around your wrist while the girls watch. 

“So you can have everyone with you no matter where you are.” Mingyu isn’t aware of the tears in your eyes but Mina is. Her face falls in concern when she starts to move to her feet only to stop when you surprise everyone in the room by turning Mingyu’s face to yours pressing your lips to his. “Mommy…” 

Mingyu smiles against your lips as the girls gasp and begin to talk excitedly until you pull back realizing what you have just done. “Oh my gosh! Santa got the letters for real. I mean it’s not a wedding on Christmas but…” Your cheek is warm under Mingyu’s thumb, his laughter helping to keep you grounded while you listen to the girls beginning to pick up other gifts. 

“Seriously if he got that letter that means that I got a laptop Mina. Also we have like an entire wedding to plan. Daddy can’t do that and your mommy, oh my gosh she might be my mommy soon too!” You lean your head back and Mingyu lets you rest your head on his shoulder while he looks at the kids. “Hey what did I tell you before? Let us be adults and you two be kids. Open your presents.” 

Amy gives him a sly look nodding while pulling one of her presents into her lap. “Whatever you say daddy.” Mina laughs almost matching her friend’s look before finding a gift with her name on it ripping at the paper. “Yeah whatever you say. You two just let us know when you need help. Cause we have an entire notebook ready. We’ve watched a lot of Hallmark movies.” 

You sigh into a laugh finally looking up to see your daughter's eyes smiling when you see how happy she is. “I bet you have.” The rest of the morning goes almost as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Only a few glances from the girls and the occasional squeal of joy when they noticed that you and Mingyu were holding hands. It didn’t take long before they were both begging to go into the backyard to play in the snow.

Mingyu was more than happy to let you rest on the couch while he wrapped too many scarves around each of the girls. Both of them complained about needing to be able to move to play but he simply mocked them playfully tugging their hoods over their heads. “Stay where we can see you. If I look out that window and you are out of sight I will come find you and then melt all the snow.”

Getting a sour look from Amy, Mingyu smirked, pinching her nose before opening the door to usher both of the girls out into the cold. You watched from the couch, smiling when you saw them both come into view Mina instantly falling down to make a snow angel quickly followed by Amy. You don’t notice Mingyu joining you until his hand slides over your leg to your knee drawing your attention back to him. 

“We will keep an eye on them, but they know the rules.” You smile with a nod watching him carefully and curiously when he leans up to reach behind a pillow to bring out another small wrapped gift. “You didn’t remind me but I remembered anyway.” When you laugh Mingyu’s smile grows exponentially, his eyes following your hands take the gift from him to set it on your lap. 

“First of all you didn’t give me time to remind you and secondly I literally didn’t get you anything Mingyu. We said no gifts and you lied right through your perfect teeth.” Mingyu grins shrugging, reaching up to push a piece of your hair behind your ear while he glances out of the window to watch the girls playing. “I already got everything I wanted so maybe I did lie, but I think I like spoiling you a little bit. It seems like you’ve never been treated like this and I kind of like the look on your face when it happens.” 

Your cheeks warm causing Mingyu to smirk when he feels it under his touch. “You are blushing again.” The sound of his laughter is music to your ears even as you elbow him playfully causing him to jokingly double over only to place a kiss to your cheek. “Open your present.” When you sigh, Mingyu taps at your nose while biting at his bottom lip watching you. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” Another laugh slips between his lips at your words, Mingyu’s hand moving from your face to the back of your neck while he watches you opening the present. “How am I looking at you?” You shrug moving the wrapping paper to the side first before opening the top of the box avoiding his eyes. “Like a school boy in love or something.” 

Mingyu raises a brow and shrugs his lips considering your words. “Interesting way to put it, but not far off.” You start to say something back to him but when you move the tissue paper in the box you find yourself speechless. Plane tickets along with another small unopened jewelry box sit on more tissue paper waiting for you to touch. “Gyu?” 

“Hmm?” He watches you lift the box first, putting it to the side, then your fingers pick up the plane tickets where you read the dates of the flight, seeing two round trip tickets to New York City for a long weekend during New Years Eve. “Oh…how could we even do that? We both have kids and that’s just a few days…like literally…” 

Mingyu hears you start to spiral so he takes his eyes from the window where he had been watching the kids playing to look at you. His hand moving to gently grasp your chin turning your head towards him. “Promise not to get too mad at me but I already took care of that. I spoke with my mom and yours. They want to split the time between them and take care of the girls. I believe your mom’s exact words were to “whisk you off your feet” so I’m here to whisk you off your feet Miss Y/L/N.” 

Your hands were shaking so Mingyu took the tickets out of your hands reaching to pick up the jewelry box putting that into your hand instead. “It’s not an engagement ring. I’m not that crazy, yet, but please open it.” You look at the box using your thumb to push open the box only to have your breath taken away once more when you do find a necklace inside. “The girls found this one the other day and kept saying how it would look so pretty on you. I have to admit they have really great taste.” 

You watch Mingyu’s fingers take the necklace from the box, he only makes a small questioning sound and you already know what he wants. He smiles when you lift your hair and turn your back to him so he can put the necklace around your neck clasping it only to let his fingers trace the delicate gold chain. Your fingers run over the small teardrop diamond pendant now resting on your chest, surprised when you feel Mingyu’s lips gently press to the side of your neck only once before he pulls away and lets you drop your hair. 

“So are you mad at me for planning behind your back?” Mingyu watches you shake your head, not making him smile a bit brighter. He finds himself leaning his cheek against your palm when you reach up to run your thumb along his cheekbone. “No, I’m not mad. I’m just honestly really happy. You asked me something earlier and I avoided it. I didn’t mean what I said. You are so important, this is important. I’m sorry.” 

Mingyu’s brows knit together, his face turning to press his lips to your palm causing your stomach to tighten to the feeling. “It’s okay. I know why you said it, but I’m so happy to hear you say this now. You are important to me too Y/N. Amy, Mina, and you are the most important people in my life and when I said I got everything I wanted for Christmas I wasn’t lying. This is what I wanted.” 

You turn your head towards the window in order to stop yourself from letting tears fall from your eyes at Mingyu’s words only to find yourself watching as Mina and Amy throw snowballs at one another. Mingyu moves your hand into his, holding it at his chest, his eyes following yours to watch the girls playing until they notice you both watching and wave. “This is what I wanted too, Gyu. Merry Christmas.” 

Mingyu smiles, meeting your eyes once again when you speak, your words going straight to his heart and stomach. When you lean towards him brushing your lips against his gently, he can’t help but to smile against your lips. Mingyu’s free hand moves to hold the side of your face gently while the snow starts to lightly fall on the happy girls playing outside making them laugh joyfully.

 “Merry Christmas Y/N.”

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