#sohn youngjae

[tolkpopfan]

Ough… the eyebrow piercing??? Don’t look at me like that

ERIC 241110

[ericscroptop]

Needy

✧ pairing: bf! eric x gf! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, p!rn with slight plot, bratty and dramatic reader just a tad, reader is insanely needy that it’s like, “okay, damn, we get it!” — but that’s the entire point, teasing, kissing, making out, fondling, grinding, one spank, marking, unprotected sex, sideways sex, creampie, dirty talk, cursing, pet names, fluff, fluffy aftercare

✦ word count: 6.5k words

✧ synopsis: it’s ‘missing eric hours’ and you can’t help but be a smidge of a brat about it until he finally gives you the attention you need.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A huff passes out of you for what seems like the millionth time today.

Anything and everything you could possibly watch on TV seems uninteresting. You sit up from your bed and stare at nothing in particular, drowning out the television noise with your sulking thoughts at the fact that it’s getting late and your boyfriend still isn’t in the room with you.

While he was actually under the same roof as you, he was working in his at-home office room, swamped by various tasks and extra work he had to bear suddenly.

He’d been in his office practically all day and night. You know that duty calls, but you can’t help that you want to spend pretty much all of your time with him. These days, he’s been a busy man. You’re both lucky that he was able to work from home today, but it was still painful and no different since he’s locked away to focus properly.

You’re becoming restless. All day you’ve tried to occupy yourself with several activities, but they all got monotonous quickly. It also felt isolating knowing you and Eric were under the same roof, but couldn’t spend proper time together. It was torturous.

Planting your feet on the ground, you stand up out of bed. The clock was getting close to midnight and your boyfriend was still locked in that damn office.

You stride towards his office, going with determination to persuade him to call it a night and come join you in your comfortable shared-bedroom.

He had advised you to leave him be and he’d call for you or text if he needed something so he could fully immerse himself without distractions, but you couldn’t help your antsy-ness.

He needed to take care of himself properly and rest. And you needed a reminder of how good it felt to have Eric curled up beside you, relaxed in his arms.

Without knocking on the door, you invite yourself in with no hesitation. Eric is already peering up at you from his desk once the door’s fully opened. You greet him with a sense of longing behind your eyes, while he offers you a weary grin.

“Babe, it’s getting late.” you’re the first one to speak, moving yourself over to his figure slumped on the chair.

“I know, honey. But I have just a couple more pages left and then i’ll be done.” he lets out a heavy sigh, exhausted eyes trained on his computer.

You bring a hand to his soft hair and run your fingers through it, then carefully brush along his fringe before pressing a chaste kiss over his temple.

The sight of his eyes fluttering shut for a second from his side profile, and hearing the short hum paired with a faint giggle as you kiss him has your heart burning. God, you missed him.

You retract with a sweet smile and move your hands over his shoulders, deciding to give them a massage as well.

He exhales while you kneaded along his hard, tight muscles, closing his eyes for a second time and starting to lose himself in the feeling of you reducing and relieving any present tension.

The sensation of your hands alleviating his stress and your familiar touch making him immediately unwind is almost enough for him to say ‘fuck it’ and call it a night.

Though, he flashes his eyes open and straightens his posture, forcing you to drop your hands down as he scoots his chair an inch or two closer towards his desk.

“Go ‘head and lay in bed, princess. Don’t wait up on me.” his eyes are once again stuck to his computer, his calloused fingers going back to making work with the keyboard like they have been all day.

The taste of accomplishment is too close to give up now. He’d finish up the last bit of work and then finally get to reward himself with a well-deserved sleep, fueled by your warmth and presence.

While you admired his strong work ethic and commitment, it did sometimes stand in the way of your selfish desires and from him getting proper rest.

All you wanted is for your boyfriend to be laid alongside you. Your eyes followed his own at his screen, noticing the time in the corner displaying that it’s technically a new day now. Seeing it makes you shift your weight to your right leg, arms crossing over your chest and head slightly tilted.

“Eric!” you whined, pouting tiredly.

“Y/n!” he mimicked your tone, incessantly typing away.

“You’ve been trapped in this room all day! Surely your body and mind need a break. You shouldn’t be working this late.” you continued to nag him.

“It’s my job, baby. The deadline for this is tomorrow afternoon. Lemme finish this and I’ll have the whole day free tomorrow.” he says without sparing you a glance.

You were agitated. You didn’t know how much you valued quality time until you met Eric. He was your person. It killed you seeing him so busy and hardly having time to even sit down and have a meal with you. Now that it was night, you’d think that he would actually clock off and come running to you. Boy, were you wrong.

“I need you, baby. Come lie down with me.” you tell him desperately, hoping he folds for the neediness laced in your voice.

“And so does my boss— to finish this work up. I’m sorry. Please go lay down, hm?” he responds, turning to meet your form with a dog-tired look written all over his face.

It’s only a few seconds before he faces his computer again, continuing to click away.

His expression is serious and focused, albeit tired. While your persistence is tempting, it’s even more enticing having the entire day free tomorrow if he finishes this last task.

He’s not budging, leaving you to mope to the max. You release a deep sigh, adding extra emphasis to the sound to express how irritated you are.

“You know, I’d get this done a lot faster if you’d just leave me to work in peace.” he mutters, but audible enough for you to obviously catch it. There’s a tinge of impatience within his words, wishing you’d just let it go. It’s too late to be fussing around. He’s aware that he’s been distant, but he’s so close to freedom. If only you’d just let him get it done.

His words make your brows furrow and feel a sting in your heart. All you wanted is for him to take a break after working nonstop and remember that he has a life outside of work. Your behavior was probably annoying, but was it bad that you just wanted your boyfriend to unwind and be with you? Even if it was for a couple minutes?

Without any more communication, you stomp out of the room like a bratty child. Eric’s gaze follows your figure as you leave the room, eyes closing shut with an upset sigh once he hears you shut the door. You don’t slam it, but he knows how pissed you are at him.

He feels bad that he just kicked you out and rejected you. Oh, how he wishes tonight could’ve been a movie night filled with cuddles and kisses. But he knows that you know he can’t slack off his job. The sooner he gets this done, the sooner he’ll get to be attached to you by the hip.

You just had to unfortunately wait a little longer.

Storming back into your room, you’re filled with defeat. There’s really nothing you can do, and you just have to accept the fact that work consumes a decent chunk of his time sometimes. You have to suck it up.

Maybe you will listen to your boyfriend and go to bed. You’re bummed out that the day has gone to waste. Without a doubt if the roles were reversed, he would’ve dragged you to bed hours ago. You just miss your man!

Since you already completed your bed time routine a while ago, all you have to do is turn off the TV, lights, and sink into bed.

Though, as you grab your remote that was hidden in between folds of your blanket, you turn to the television and are faced with a very romantic scene between a couple. It has you pause in turning it off, jealousy beginning to itch your brain.

Damn it, Eric. That could’ve been us tonight.

Seeing that moment ends up sparking an idea in you. Instead of turning the TV off, you only turn down the volume, then place the remote on the nightstand. Afterwards, you shimmy out of your comfy loungewear bottoms, leaving you in some underwear that isn’t anything special.

You decide to discard of that as well, moving over to one of you drawers to hunt for some new underwear, a specific pair in mind that is Eric’s absolute favorite.

Within seconds, you find it. It’s a pair of cheeky, lacey baby pink panties with a small bow in the front. It was one of your most beloved as well. You loved how pretty the style and color was. Even if it was just fabric, who doesn’t love a good pair of underwear?

Eric has expressed to you at least twice how the visual of you wearing this special pair makes him swoon. The delicacy of the detailing and softness of the shade of pink flatters your sensual areas. It teased him so much. Especially with how it exposed your ass cheeks the perfect amount. Just the sight of you prancing or laying around in those lacey pink panties had him captivated and folded immediately like a lawn chair.

Which is why you’re wearing them to bed tonight, and only that.

You figured that if work has kept all his attention today, you could tease him by going to bed simply wearing that piece of fabric that drives him insane. It’s silly and petty behavior, and you know that him having a demanding job can’t be helped, but he needs a reminder in what he’s missing out on.

You remove your shirt and toss it to the side, leaving your torso bare. You crawl into your respective side of the bed, lying on your stomach, side of face down against your pillow. The lights from the TV and lamp remain on, you not bothering in shutting them off so Eric has a crystal clear view when he finally decides to go to bed.

You also don’t cover yourself with the sheets or blanket, leaving your almost-bare body exposed to the air.

Now all that’s left is to wait.

About an hour later, Eric finally feels freedom from closing all the open tabs on his computer. After a long day, he successfully accomplished what he needed to get done before the deadline.

He cracks his neck and knuckles while staring at his screensaver, a candid of you and him that was taken by a close friend.

He takes a deep breath and lets his shoulders fall, feeling drained and upset that work rips him away from you. He’s finished now but at what cost? Under the same roof but his attention was caught elsewhere, leaving you to feel lonely.

He’d be sure to compensate for his lack of company lately once you two wake up. Emotionally, physically— whatever you need, he’ll devote the day to properly taking care of you.

He shuts off his computer and rises from his chair, getting that long-needed stretch he’s been yearning for after being seated uncomfortably for what seemed like an eternity.

Right after, he immediately leaves the room without looking back. A yawn escapes out of him as he shuffles to the bedroom, ready to drop his fatigued form next to you.

Since it’s not that far of a walk to the room, he can tell from a couple feet away that you’ve left the light on. He wonders if you’re still up.

When he steps into the bedroom, the burnout he bears is momentarily forgotten. Your body is relaxed over the bed, his breath stuck in his throat when he sees the unexpected sight of your bare back on display. His gaze trails down and is practically bewitched when he sees your ass cheeks out, lower half of your region only covered by thin panties— of which, make his eyes widen once it registers that it’s that pair of panties.

His features stretch to an amused expression, wowed in seeing that his girl went to bed in exclusively those dainty-but-dangerous baby pink panties.

You normally were swallowed in his clothing or something comfortable of your own when you went to bed, so this was definitely telling. The lights were left on and you didn’t bother covering yourself with the sheets or blanket, indicating to him that this was intentional.

There’s his little minx, so desperate for attention and doing this to rile him up. And it’s definitely working without fail.

He takes caution in his steps as he approaches the bed, seeing that your body rises and falls, fallen into slumber.

Though when the bed dips from his added weight on it, and he fumbles to add a blanket over you, you stir. You’ve awoken slightly disoriented, eyes still glued shut but mind and body conscious.

“Shhhh, it’s okay. I’m here now. Go back to sleep, honey.” Eric whispers, his body now spooned behind you. A hand of his reaches over the top of your head, brushing along your hair to soothe you.

Hearing his voice and being aware of his presence has you whimpering softly, beginning to pathetically grind back into his crotch, your way of showing that you needed his attention.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he coos, already knowing that you simply missed him.

You don’t verbally answer him. Your tired eyes are still closed as you turn over towards him. You push your body into his own, melting and snuggling into him, making his arms immediately wrap around your back to hold and accept you.

Your face sinks comfortably into his chest, his chin now resting over the top of your head.

“Sorry for taking so long. I missed you so much.” his arms swaddle you and he brings a kiss into your hair, then rubs his nose along it, inhaling your cozy scent.

You can’t believe it took so long for you to be wrapped within his embrace. The nice warmth his body provides to your entire being is better than any blanket to ever exist.

The atmosphere carries a sense of private intimacy from your almost-naked body held securely within your boyfriend’s hold during this late hour in bed. It was domestic moments like these that had your heart pounding in hearty love and affection for Eric.

You swooned over how his touches were so gentle, out of fondness and adoration for you.

But his touches were duplexing. He had another side of him that was filled with carnal desire. He couldn’t help in wanting to worship your body naughtily, feeling the way your body would weaken and lose control while he touched you lasciviously.

You possessed that same duality as well. Attraction to one another manifests itself in many ways, and sex was an intimate one that displayed how strong that attraction for one another was, as well as how bonded you two were.

Your bare breasts press up against Eric’s clothed torso while he cuddled you. It’s impossible to ignore the feeling of your soft mounds move against his chest, even more so when you’re practically squeezing your chest into him.

A hand snakes down to one of your ass cheeks, remembering that you wore those panties that please him beyond words. The palm of his hand rubs along the part of your rear that is exposed to the air.

The feeling of his rough hand caressing your bottom and his fingers beginning to trace the outline of your undies is sensual. It prompts you to throw a leg over his hip, trying to intertwine with him, allergic to space when it comes to him.

Your clothed core seeks for his manhood. The close proximity with your man, the feeling of your body covered merely in frilly panties against him, and his small touches are all driving you haywire.

You’re not even the slightest embarrassed when you start to buck your hips into his, desperately wanting him to get the hint.

Eric has been growing hard since he saw how you looked on the bed. His pretty princess in pink panties, waiting for him. Teasing him with that lingerie and even now, being so touchy and clingy.

Although both of you could be ready to doze off, the sexual appetite between the two of you was growing. You wanted Eric to hold you, kiss you, and fuck you.

He wasn’t expecting to do this tonight, but he has now become equally as horny. Always without fail when it comes to you.

It was time to settle this.

“Look at me.” he utters.

His request is heard but you refuse to move your face hidden in his chest. Your sexual movements continue, wanting to push his buttons just a little to make things a bit more interesting and get him heated.

The hand that was circling your bottom lifted abruptly to spank you with force, making you gasp and jolt at the impact.

“Hey— behave.” his voice stern.

Your core shivers from the act, turned on by his dominant behavior.

“Stop being a brat and tell me what you want.” he grabs a handful of your fleshy ass, pawing roughly at the skin.

This act you’re putting up is driving blood straight to his cock, but your lack of words and taunting is running his patience thin. Much like how you were peeved from his lack of attention up until now.

You lift your head up and meet Eric’s dark gaze. Tiredness is drifting away while lust prevails. His hand continues to roam over your rear, teasingly inching his fingers down slowly in between your legs.

Your lips part, arms hooked around his neck as you looked at him with heavy lidded eyes.

“I need you… to fuck me, please.” you beg sweetly through batting lashes.

Eric licks his lips at your words, his fingers starting to rub you through your clothed cunt. His moves continue to engorge your pussy with blood, senses heightened and filled with heat everywhere.

The fabric is slightly damp, your sex already producing fluid out of excitement.

“My needy girl missed me, hm?” he teases and removes his hand from between your legs.

He makes you sigh out in frustration at loss of contact, making him smirk as he pulls you up his body closer, bringing your face mere centimeters away from his.

“Nothing’s keeping me from you anymore. I’m all yours.” his breath brushes your lips before his own chase yours, capturing them eagerly.

Both of your eyes flutter closed. You didn’t hesitate even for a second to kiss him back with the same level of yearn.

Your hands redirect to cradle either side of his face, held as steady as possible to keep him in place, tender gesture showing your devotion for him. He reciprocates that same need for closeness by keeping his left hand on the small of your back, while his right tousled through your hair. The stir of excitement that rushes past both of your veins when kissing is thrilling and addicting, clinging on to each other due to naturally wanting one another closer than close.

The feeling of his slightly chapped lips due to his bad habit of biting on them while working has you smiling into the kiss. The smile that stretches your mouth allows Eric to slip his tongue past, brushing and sucking with fervor and wetness along your own.

The warmth, moistness, and sliminess of it all has you hungry for more. You softly moan from the amorous kiss, causing Eric to playfully nibble on your bottom lip in response to his favorite noise.

He then rolls you onto your back swiftly, now hovering over you.

His face dips down straight for your neck, sharp nose tickling you before he starts dotting tender kisses along the sensitive area.

He worships your hotspot, circling through sucking, softly biting, blowing his hot air over you, and licking the skin.

The physical affection raises the hairs on your skin, and the nerves that run behind your ear down your neck being stimulated have your body shivering.

All while the other side of your neck is held tightly by his hand, trailing his lips lower to your collarbone, then to your shoulder, and then to your breasts.

When he gets to your mounds, he can’t resist in pausing his kisses to cover them with his hands, playing with the fleshy skin and warming them up in his hold.

The squeezing and toying he does to you has your pussy boiling with ardor. You stare dumbly at him, open-mouthed as you watch the frisky glint in his eyes. Eric is infatuated with how soft and squishy they were, his two plushy pillows.

His fingers roll over your nipples, rotating the erect buds. Your breathing increases and heart rate picks up, turned on from the way he shows sultry attention to every inch of you.

A grin plasters across Eric’s face in hearing your breathless sounds, savoring the way you lie under him in all your glory, touching and teasing you carnally.

His craving for your breasts in his mouth has him dropping his face down to lick a bold stripe up your cleavage, leaving you to gasp at the sensation of his wet muscle navigating through.

Like a shot, he aggressively marks his precious territory, relentlessly devouring your mounds with his mouth, deeply enough to where he’d be sure his marks littered your chest for days.

You absolutely lose it when he traces an areola with his tongue, then, encloses his lips around your nipple and sucks with determination, practically making out with your boob.

It has you arching your back, yelping and crying out as zaps of pleasure from Eric send arousal to pool down inside your panties.

“You like when I suck your tits? Yeah?” he chuckles while locking eyes with you, switching momentarily to give your other breast some love.

It’s impossible to not squirm under his touch, but he keeps you pinned down with his body, so you’re just left breathless and submitting to him spoiling you in utter bliss.

Eric groans into your chest, avidly grinding down, making you suddenly aware of your boyfriend’s hard-on firmly pressing into your thigh.

“Shit, babe— wanna feel you.” you manage to breathe out. Your core is aching to feel his cock inside you.

He throbs at your breathy utterance. He feels your fingers tug slightly at his hair, displaying your great need for him to give you more.

He abandons your bullied chest glistening in his saliva for now, proceeding to drag kisses down along your stomach, until his mouth reached your panties.

Even if it’s beyond obvious what you want, he still takes the time to peer up at you with a questioning look, to which you give him a nod, signaling that he could remove them.

He brings a gentle kiss to your tummy before hooking his fingers over your underwear, tugging them down your legs and off at last.

The pair is bunched up in his hand, and he raises it up, gaining your attention to look up at him. He pushes the panties to his face, nuzzling his nose into the fabric before he leaves a hot kiss over the wettish undies.

Your whimpers fill the room in response, legs squeezed together. So horny, sexed up for Eric.

He tosses his favorite panties away somewhere, focusing on your-now-naked body presented to him like a platter. Your slick pussy is revealed to him once he pushes your knees apart, making him whistle pridefully.

“So fucking pretty, princess. All for me?” he sighs in admiration.

His thick hand is kept placed on one of your knees to keep you open while he lathers his fingers in your arousal with the other hand, leaving your breathing to be shaky, core burning hot.

He doesn’t think twice in popping those coated fingers inside his mouth, giving you a show of him shamelessly sucking your slick off.

“Eric…” you cried, desperate fuzzy feeling consuming your senses.

He snickers at your eagerness and longing, pulling his fingers out with a pucker sound.

“Gonna fill you up real good, sweet baby.” he rasps, finally pulling his shirt off to start off his own undressing.

He rids himself free from the remainder of his clothing, now leaving you both naked. You’re salivating in viewing his delineated abs and slender waist, as well as the hard, girthy cock that makes your soul smile and face blush a rosy color.

Eric smirks as he maneuvers towards the free spot next to you. You’re on the edge of the bed, on your particular side. Tonight, it’s calling to him that he fuck you side-by-side.

So he adjusts himself and you accordingly.

You don’t question his movements, licking your lips at his bare body moving next to yours. His figure brushes your side, lifting your leg to be angled, raised over his thigh.

An arm of his snakes under your curved leg, hand directing toward his shaft, gripping over it to stroke his cock and spread the clear fluid that’s glimmering out from his tip.

A low moan flows out of him due to the gratifying stimulation of his hand as he preps himself to enter you. But he knows it doesn’t beat the friction and heavenly satisfaction from your beautiful pussy that he’s about to get.

“Ready, babe?” he traces the head of his cock around the edges of your outside, causing you to shake at the sudden contact. Fuck, you needed him.

“Yes, please.” you choked, leaving him to tongue his cheek as he inserts the tip, groans and gasps mixed with cursing filling the room in unison.

A fiery flurry shoots up your spine when his tip slides past your wet folds, pussy welcoming that familiar hard, yet smooth pressure.

One of your hands clutched the sheets while the other gripped at your own thigh out of feeling his length push inside you.

“There we go. Shit… nice and tight for me. Easy, baby.” he coos, hissing at your walls squeezing around his length and encouraging you to relax.

Your walls stretch to accommodate to his size, being invited in and encompassed nicely.

A hand of his reaches for your tummy protectively, patting your stomach out of praise and soothing nature.

“Always take me so well. Such a good girl.” he sighs. The sensation of your hole stuffed and full of him has you both heaven-sent.

That warm stretch of your walls engulfing his cock is like pure luxury. After a long day of working, this is exactly what he needed to unwind. He missed this so much. His sweet baby, and her precious pussy that hugs his cock eagerly. Seems like you both missed every part of each other.

His hand still rests on your tummy, arm snaked around from under your leg that remains bent and raised in the air.

He tightly holds onto your abdomen as he starts humping into you slowly to start off. You mewl at the awaited feeling of his manhood moving inside you. Your blood is pumping and all you can think about is the pleasurable pressure and how gorged you are now from Eric’s cock.

He boosts up the pace. His thrusting builds friction, making your pussy gradually hotter.

The sounds of skin slapping and pornographic moans springing from your voice fill the room. You can’t help it, it’s like he’s scratching an intense itch of yours, mind-numbingly pleasing and electric.

“Ahh— yes, Eric!” you breathily cry, features creasing as he fucks you with devotion.

Your velvety walls caressing and brushing his cock while you moan and whine aloud bewitches him. You’re making it so easy for him to wanna pop fast, but he doesn’t want to bust quick. He wants to savor this moment. He isn’t in a rush at all, wanting to take his time in relishing this heated moment.

He allows his thrusts to let up to divert his attention for a minute. He swiftly withdraws his arm from under your angled leg and redirects it to the other side, gravitating to pull your jaw towards his face, him even raising up a bit to meet you closer so your lips could connect.

“Fuck, Eric. Mhmmm.” he swallows your sounds greedily, allowing you to moan into his mouth.

Your lips lock together, passionately moving together ravenously. He nips at your bottom lip in every other searing kiss, growling as the plump appendage slips through his teeth.

A hand of yours travels to reach for his abdomen while you kiss, smoothing over his muscles and defined lines. You admire the firmness of his abs, as well as the way his muscles flexed at your touch. Eric has a beautiful body, and so you loved grazing your hands over any and every part of him whenever you could.

He absolutely goes feral when you openly show affection towards his body. Holding him, touching him, feeling him— your touches of all sorts remind him that he’s real. It makes him feel so alive. You cherish him in many ways, and when you do so physically, it makes him inflate with love and confidence.

His cock throbs out of making out with you while your pussy swallowed his manhood. He’s vocal about what you’re doing to him, letting out a few guttural moans of his own.

Aching to move as he wishes inside you, he draws back from your lips, redirecting his arm back under your angled leg, making contact with his bicep.

His hand goes back to its position on your stomach from earlier, continuing to rock your bodies back and forth.

Your sweaty bodies move together repeatedly. It’s so sexy, leaving you two submerged in lust.

He keeps a steady pace, and every so often, you’d squeeze around him during his out-strokes, making him groan in rapture.

To acknowledge the effect you’re having on him, he inches his hand upwards to grip over your breast. His thrusts don’t falter as he starts groping your entire mound, holding onto it while he continuously fucks into you.

“That’s it, baby. Pussy swallowing me so fuckin’ good.” he praises.

You’re nonstop whimpering, breath blown away with every plunge into you.

Eric watches in zeal the way the flesh of your breasts and thighs bounce and jiggle, your body shaking fiercely.

Those mouthwatering noises of yours don’t cease and only grow louder. Every movement means another cry in pleasure out of you. Your mouth is dumbly stuck ajar from getting fucked stupid.

Each sound and action of yours activates his brain chemicals, leaving his senses enhanced due to the intoxicating sexual arousal.

He believes he’s going to give into the full kind-of pressure that’s present. Muscles in the lower parts of his torso are stretching. Sexual goosebumps that have built up creep across the back of his neck, shooting down his spine. Every part of his genitals are tingly, hot, and heavy.

His ragged breaths draw you to turn your head to some degree to look at him. His teeth and jaw are clenching, bulging veins run down along his arms, one of them still gripping your breast, too consumed in the ticking and tension within the base of his cock that’s eating him.

It’s crystal clear that your boyfriend’s about to cum. He’s rapidly driving his length into you, showing your pussy no mercy.

It’s a steamy thrill watching Eric crazed from chasing his release. He looks so hot all desperate, persistently humping into you, panting and tensed-up.

You sneak your fingers towards your swollen cit to amplify your pleasure into overdrive, wanting to cum alongside him.

The relief you get from attending to your puffy clit has you trembling, eyes fluttering from your fucked-out daze. Rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves is like sparks exploding uncontrollably. Your brain is mush, not being able to breathe regularly alongside your boyfriend as you continuously cry out.

You start to feel his cock twitch. It thickens and swells for a mere few seconds, and that signals that you’re about to be milked.

His mouth hangs open as he tenses up, bloated, hot cock finally busting burning semen.

He lets out broken moans of relief, whining out your name as he’s jerking into you and pulsating every half second or so, shooting hot wads of cum with every pulse.

His spasms trigger your own orgasm, exploding with your own fluid. Your inner muscles clench hard, legs flex, pulse elevates, back arches, and toes curl. Your eyes are glossy, vision blurred, and you’re mumbling repeatedly breathless whines from finally reaching that peak.

“Oh my god, Eric!” your voice cracked.

He’s huffing and puffing trying to catch his own breath, now overly sensitive with his cock still burrowed inside your soaked, baked pussy.

“I’m right here, princess. Shit— I got you.” he rasps.

He’s gentle but immediately pulls out of you after you each crash, making you two groan at the sensation of his length pull out of you, everything so sensitive.

You feel limp, body and mind numb. That sex with your lover was fulfilling, but it’s left you exhausted. Same goes for Eric.

Your eyes are shut as you roll over to him, much like earlier, and he helps adjust you to lay on top of his body.

Each of your bodies is covered in sweat, still hot all over, and your pussy is leaking with both of your fluids running down— even now getting on Eric, but who cares? Cuddles are very much necessary after sex.

He holds onto you tightly, rubbing your back as you lay your head on his naked chest. No words are exchanged momentarily as you’re listening to each other’s heartbeats and breathing, attempting to calm down.

You could practically nod off comfortably even with your sticky body resting over his own, until he speaks up.

“I’m so sorry for neglecting you, honey. Everything I do is for you. Gonna make it up to you.” he says softly.

Your heart softens upon hearing his words, prompting you to raise your head up slightly, peering up towards him, who’s already looking down at you.

A hand of yours reaches up to nest in the nape of his neck, entangling your fingers with the hair that resides there.

“Hey, I know. Don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing for being such a brat.” you scoff at yourself for your whiny and clingy actions, even if you did end up gaining his attention like you desired. And you’d lowkey do it again.

“You’re such a driven, hard worker and I admire the hell out of that. I’m so proud of you. I just missed you, and I get worried when my handsome boy works too hard.” you continued, tone sincere and affectionate.

His lips curl upwards as he chuckles softly, his pupils shyly darting away from you as you compliment and gush over him. You just pout your lips cutely at him to tease him before pressing a kiss over his perspiring chest.

“Plus, you already made it up to me.” you smirked, then bursted into small giggles, throwing your head back in laughter as your cheeks flushed.

Fuck, you’re so damn cute. How is it possible that his heart grow any fonder for you still? It’s like the angels sing when he hears your voice, his body glowing when around you. Every stress or concern of his fades away when he’s with you.

Your giggles make him grin like a fool, stupidly in love with everything you do. He lifts his head up to lean into your face, signaling that he wants to meet your lips.

You pucker you lips slightly to give him a light kiss. One, two, three times before you’re both satisfied and content for now.

“I love you so much, sweet baby.” his eyes twinkle with endearment. His hands still hold onto you and run over your spine, fingertips dancing over your bare skin.

Those words mean so much to you, over and over again. No matter how many times he tells you. Every time, it makes you melt.

“I love you too, ‘ric.” warmth filled your cheeks and heart as you inched up to nose into his neck. Your head burrows into the crook of it, making yourself at home. There’s no where else you’d rather be.

For only a minute, you two cuddled in comfortable silence before Eric spoke up again.

“Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“Can you scratch my back?”

At his request, you elevate yourself to look at him once again. Smiling, you grab hold of his chin and can’t resist in leaving a feathery kiss on his cheek. “Of course, babe.”

His eyes light up like an excited puppy, beaming at the thought of one of his favorite activities— you kindly dragging your nails over one of his hard-to-reach spots.

You two immediately switch places. He settles himself over you, flopping his head to rest on its side, getting comfortable. His hair tickles your neck while his facial features rest upon your shoulder.

When settled, you finally bring a hand to start stroking his back. You start off with shifting your hand into a claw and make overlapping circles around his back, just the way he likes.

Eric’s body feels instantly lighter and your touches bring him so much relief. He groans in pleasure once you get in the groove of it, your light scratches and rubs stimulating millions of nerve endings.

“Happy?” you teased as he wasn’t shy in vocally expressing how your scratching was doing wonders for his back.

“Feels so good.” he mumbles, feeling soothed and safe under your touches. At this rate, he could be lulled to sleep.

You hum in response, continuing your ministrations contentedly. You must admit, you loved pampering your boyfriend. He always treated you like a princess, so it only made sense that you give him equal attention and care.

Though, you know that he could fall asleep any minute now knowing that your scratches are apparently too relaxing that it drifts him off with ease— especially after working nonstop today, and then fucking you right after.

You two are still naked and have yet to go clean up. You’d hate to ruin this dear moment, but you guys have got to clean yourselves up and use the bathroom.

“Hey, we should probably go clean off, babe.” you voice, hoping he hasn’t fallen asleep yet.

“Just a few more minutes.” he sighs into your shoulder, voice groggily, indicating that he’s ready to pass out.

You let out a groan straight away.

“I’ll even carry you… please?” he begs, rubbing his cheek and nose cutely against your shoulder.

You just shut your eyes as you still continue to scratch him, trying not to roll your eyes, knowing that there’s a possibility that he’ll fall asleep in minutes.

But he needed this moment. I guess a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

“Okay.” you weakly huff out, giving in. “Just a few more minutes.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

[ashonheavenscloud]

honey || s. eric

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ contents: sohn eric x fem!reader, established relationship, smut (minors dni!), starts very very soft and gets very very flithy LOL, yes this is self-indulgent and i will not apologize

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ word count: 2.7k

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ warnings: explicit 18+ content, switch!eric, swearing, unprotected sex, oral (m. rec), shower sex, praise, eric sohn (he deserves his own warning)

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n: this has been in the drafts for WAY too long and i just decided to finish it in the back of my class (yes i'm insane)

now playing - over and over - jimmy brown, rovv; sip sip - jimmy brown, rovv, sweet the kid; everyday - jimmy brown ft sweet the kid

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

From the moment you wake up in the morning, sun peeking through the blinds, the world outside made brighter by almost a foot of snow piled on the ground, Eric is suffocating you.

His arms are wrapped tightly around you from behind, head pressed to your back, legs tangled with yours beneath several thick blankets. It’s not unlike Eric to be clingy, but it isn’t just affection keeping him extra close—you can tell when you shift and he tightens his hold on you, shivering at the cold air your movement lets into the blankets. In response to your body moving around, Eric pulls you back to his chest, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t go.” He whispers, voice hoarse. He must have just woken up, too.

“I’m not.” You softly promise, and Eric hugs your body somehow closer to himself, arms crossing your stomach to hold your waist, legs tangling with yours, pressing a light, almost unnoticeable kiss to your shoulder.

You lay with him there in silence for a few moments, senses sharpening as you wake up fully. Every minute or so, Eric presses a kiss or two along your back, making you sigh in content. There really isn’t a better way to spend lazy mornings than with him.

You shift again, and Eric whines when the movement lifts the blankets and lets in frigid air. But he loosens his hold enough for you to turn and face him, getting a good look at his sleepy eyes and disheveled state. You note, heart melting a bit, that he wore his favourite faded grey University of California sweater to sleep in an attempt to keep himself warmer, hood pulled over his messy brown hair. He’s so cute it makes your brain short circuit when he opens his eyes, meeting your gaze and letting his head slump onto your shoulder. “It’s so cold.”

“It’s January.” You whisper back, and he whines. 

“It’s -10 F, I don’t care what month it is.”

You laugh softly, and Eric’s mouth twists into a half smile at the sound. Slowly, his cold hands find yours and intertwine your fingers together. You watch affectionately as he lifts your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles tenderly in a way that has your heart skipping a beat. And when he pauses to look at you with a small, teasing smile, you know he’s doing it on purpose to make you flustered. Which only makes your stomach do several more backflips when he holds your gaze and presses a lingering kiss to your palm. 

“Your hands are so cold.” He comments, kissing the tips of your fingers, successfully making your heart melt for the nth time this morning.

“So are yours.” You whisper back and he groans.

“I know, it’s fucking freezing.” 

You laugh gently, holding up your joined hands and following his lead, pressing a couple kisses to his icy fingers. When you look back at him, his mouth is spread in a smile, eyes absolutely full of adoration. Eric is always very attentive to you, preferring to show his love for you through thoughtful actions rather than words, so when you make the effort to return one of his loving gestures, he falls for you all over again. 

“My nose is really cold, too.” He says automatically, hoping you’ll get the hint. You smile, dropping his hands to cup his face with your palms, planting a kiss, then another on the tip of his nose, tinged pink- and he’ll refuse to say whether the colour is actually from the cold or from your lips on his skin, your soft giggle in his ear, your warm breath on his cheeks.

His next sentence comes out breathless. “My lips, too.” 

Laughing, you meet his lips with yours, and Eric all but melts against your mouth, hands bracing on your stomach, then bunching your sweater in his fists. Your brain turns to static as he curls into you, kissing you slowly for what feels like a minute and an hour at the same time, before you pull away. 

“Better?” You ask, teasingly.

Eric’s eyes take a second to focus on you, dazed and sparkling. He breathes out a short laugh, mumbling, “getting there,” before tilting his head to reconnect your lips with his. One hand reaches to hold your face close to his, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss, feeling his own mouth lift in a grin. 

You let the seconds blur into streaks of muted colours, Eric’s thumb applying light pressure on your jaw to tilt your face closer to his as he kisses you slowly, pulling on your bottom lip in a way that has your stomach twisting into knots. His other hand has slipped around to the small of your back, pressing your body to his- and you’re certain this time, it isn’t for warmth. Your hands slide up his torso, finding warmth under his sweatshirt and over his stomach and making Eric gasp at your frigid fingers on his skin.

“Don’t see how that helps keep me warm.” He whines against your lips, to which you loop your fingers under his waistband and tug his hips close to yours.

“What if I had a better idea?”

Eric’s eyes flicker open to look into yours. His smile is crooked as he nudges your nose with his. “What’s that?”

As a response, you kiss him, teasing his lips with the tip of your tongue, and leaving him chasing for more when you pull back with a smile. “Meet me in the shower in ten?”

Eric doesn’t need a sales pitch; he’s already halfway out of bed. “How about five?”

…

It actually only takes two minutes for Eric to have the shower running, steam instantly fogging up the room from how warm he’s cranked the water to battle the way you both shiver after undressing. However, you refuse to be charbroiled and adjust the water to a reasonable temperature before joining him under the stream. The shower offers plenty of space, easily taking up half of the room with dark tiles, a rainfall showerhead and several ledges with bottles, soap and other items - but that space is basically useless when Eric immediately pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around you from behind. You feel his smile against your skin as he murmurs into your ear, “This feels familiar.” 

You laugh softly when he kisses your shoulder, before you turn in his grasp. “So does this,” you take his hands, gently kissing the tips of his fingers before tilting your head to kiss his nose, “and this.”

It’s ridiculously endearing that no matter how many times you kiss him, he still blushes bright pink. It spreads from his cheeks to his neck to his chest, and you follow the same trail with your lips, pressing kisses to his shoulder, honey skin covered in beads of water from the steam. His hands have a light hold on your hips and he sighs, head falling sideways onto your shoulder. 

Your hands slide down his shoulders to press against his chest, allowing you to carefully push him backwards until his back hits the cold tile, making him gasp. His hands tighten on your hips as yours wind through his damp hair, your parted lips finding his. The softest moan falls from Eric’s lips as you kiss him slowly, hands flat on his chest, body pressed against his. His skin is burning under your touch as you trail your fingers down his abdomen, nails gently scratching and making Eric tense with a whine as your hands move to his hips, caging them to the wall. When your lips part from his to look at him, his eyes are heavy lidded and his cheeks are painted pink. His gaze flickers as he leans in, as if he can’t help it, like a magnet pulls his mouth to yours. He pauses to look at you through wet lashes, lips hovering a breath away from yours. “Don’t stop.” He murmurs desperately, fingers digging into your skin, keeping you close.

“Not planning on it.” You whisper in return, giving him a smile that he mirrors when you press your lips back to his momentarily. Then you pull away and do something he doesn’t expect, sliding your hands down his thighs as you get to your knees.

You keep your gaze on Eric’s face, watching his eyes grow wide and his skin flush a more violent pink hue. His hands are frozen in place where your hips had been seconds ago. You smile; if such a simple action as you kneeling can cause him to malfunction, you’re not sure how long he’ll be able to handle you actually giving him head, especially this early in the morning. You carefully reach to hold his hardening dick in one hand and gently run your nails over the length; instantly, Eric’s body tenses and he draws a sharp inhale through his teeth, a small sound that balances delicately between a whimper and a moan echoing from his chest. His arms cross his chest, hands holding opposite shoulders in an attempt to distract himself from your teasing, fingers digging into the skin as you repeat the action, lifting his dick and dragging your fingers down to the tip. This time, he definitely moans, and loudly.

“Ah—shit—” 

The stream of short, breathy whines that follows is a direct result of your mouth pressing wet, open mouthed kisses to his erection. You drag your tongue along his length and Eric is unsuccessful in his attempt to mask a loud, drawn out moan as his head falls back. Bracing your hands on his thighs, you part your lips and wrap them around the tip of his cock, eyes never leaving Eric’s face. He can’t seem to look back at you, pupils blown out and unfocused, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. When you take his length deeper into your mouth, seated heavily on your tongue, Eric sucks in a breath, hands flying from their place on his shoulders to the wall behind him, palms pressed flat against the tile.

“O-oh my god, baby—” his following whine is breathy and strained, only encouraging you to take him in further, teeth slightly dragging along his length. His mouth drops open as pleasure pulses in waves through his body, eyes rolling as he shallowly bucks his hips with a muffled whimper. “Sorry, sorry—” 

You look up at him through your lashes, and his voice breaks off with a whine as you suck in your cheeks. His knees nearly buckle, hands curling into fists as he fights to urge to move again. 

“God-” he drags out the word, head tilting back to expose his flushed neck and chest, glistening with perspiration. “F-feel so good, fuck, you’re so good—”

Eric’s rambling is proof of just how good you’re making him feel, and you take pride in the desperation that clings to each word he manages to get out between whiny breaths and choked moans. You pull back slowly, dragging your tongue along the underside of his dick before moving back, taking more, grazing your teeth over the sensitive surface. Eric’s hips lift again, thighs trembling as he speaks, “Like that, like that— oh—”

You repeat the movement several times, sucking slowly with every bob of your head. Eric only gets louder, moaning and whining as you apply greater pressure with your mouth to bring him closer to climax. His dick pulses, heavy on your tongue, and he ruts his hips with a low groan, eyes flickering and head bowing. “G-God, baby, I’m close…”

You hum in encouragement, swirling your tongue purposefully over his tip, but immediately Eric’s hand flies to your chin, holding you still before you can continue.

“Ah- wait, wait,” he pants out, dazed eyes finding yours with desire so palpable you could touch it on his skin. His thumb slides across your jawline, coated in condensation. “I wanna come inside you, honey…” he murmurs, and heat swims through your body at his request. “Please? Can I?”

Nodding quickly, you stumble to your feet with the help of Eric’s hands on your elbows, standing before him with rolling anticipation in your gut. He takes a second to pause and tuck loose, wet strands of your hair behind your ear, eyes never leaving yours, lust swimming through them so clearly you can feel yourself pulled closer to him, a gravitational tug that forces you forward until your lips hover next to his. 

You can see in his dark irises the moment he breaks.

“Come here,” Eric pleads, grabbing your waist and pulling you directly to him. Your body curves into his and your mouth latches back to his, hands winding behind his neck and threading through his hair. He groans in relief at your touch, and guides your hips to press against his. Stumbling slightly, he spins you, holding your body up against the cold tile. You grab at his shoulders as his kisses move to your neck, mouth latching to your skin, teeth nipping to leave dark bruises along his path. One hand of yours slips down his abdomen, tracing his toned, tensed muscles before clutching at his leaking dick. Eric’s head drops into your shoulder with a moan against your skin as his body shudders, hips canting. Before you know it, he’s lining himself up with your pussy, rubbing through your soaked folds, murmuring, “ready?” And with a nod of assent from you, he’s sliding carefully into you. 

The stretch makes your eyes roll back as you clutch onto Eric’s shoulders, head falling back onto the tile wall as he hisses and curses under his breath, rutting his hips to bury himself inside you. You can feel him pulsing, and it feels so fucking good. Your mind is spinning, skin slick with condensation and sweat from the steam of the hot shower and the arousal in your veins. You can barely even form his name, repeated like a prayer on your tongue as he eventually bottoms out, leaving you feeling dizzy and seeing stars. Eric’s faring even worse, head falling into your neck, heavy breaths and whimpers hot on your skin, body shivering over yours, skin flushed and hot to the touch.

“You’re fucking perfect—” his grip on your hips only tightens as he begins to thrust. Hardly a minute passes before he’s moving faster, desperate for friction. “Shit… feel s’warm, s’good,” he chokes out between moans, and you respond with your own sounds of pleasure, reaching to grab his face and forcefully pull his mouth to yours in a passionate, open-mouthed kiss. The assertive action nearly makes Eric lose it then and there, but if there’s one thing Eric’s ego can’t take, it’s coming before you do. He frees one hand enough to move it to your clit and rub, immediately turning your legs to jelly and causing your pussy to squeeze around him.

Eric mouth falls open against yours in a beautiful moan, “Fuck, baby.”

“There, there-”

Tension only builds in your gut, and eventually you’re both trembling against each other’s bodies, spent and seconds from your highs. 

“C-close-” you moan, hands slipping down his arms to grip his biceps, feeling the firm muscles under your touch, tensing with each thrust that’s growing shakier with each moment. Your head is spinning, and all you can feel is heat, and Eric’s slick skin and his hot, trembling breath on your face.

Voice laced with desperation, Eric whispers on your lips, “Come for me, baby.”

And you do, letting the knot in your gut come undone with a moan, head falling back as white floods your vision and your high washes through you in a rushing current of pleasure. With a strained, high pitched groan, Eric follows suit, tensing and releasing, filling you up with several deep thrusts before collapsing into your chest. 

You both take a minute to catch your breath; the only sounds are your heaving pants and the ever steady stream of the shower. Eric’s hands still hold your waist, slowly loosening as he pulls out and leans back into you, thumbs sliding against your skin in an absentminded motion.

You, in return, let your hands slide up his arms and gently rub his shoulders. With a smile, your lips press softly to his temple before you whisper, “Still cold?”

Eric huffs out a laugh, arms winding around you, pulling you backwards with him under the stream of water, “Definitely not.” He murmurs back with a smirk, kissing your neck gently in return.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

the boyz masterlist

navigation

[sohnric]

extra cheesy — e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: pizza boy! eric, very mild childhood friends to acquaintances to friends to lovers au. college au, fluff, the tiniest bit of angst. mutual pining, slowburn, jealous eric, oblivous reader, the whole lot... includes pizza boy! sunwoo and eric's older sister! lisa manoban.

wc: 31k (31.071)

warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mention of throwing up, mentions of jealousy, the reader and eric are the same height bc i wrote this for and about myself, talks about the ex-gifted kid burnout syndrome lol.

listen to: so american - olivia rodrigo, love - wave to earth and stuck with u - ariana grande and justin bieber

being a wingman is not always the easiest task - especially not when your roommate's target is best friends with someone taking your attention away from the main goal.

a/n: thank u so much best friend @csenke for beta reading as always and thank u best friend @from-izzy for hyping me up and listening to me ramble hours upon hours about this fic (oh and also for stepping in as the reader's roommate HAHA).

“Come on, we deserve a little pizza for dinner!” your roommate, Izzy, shakes your arm as she clings to you on the sofa the way she always does when she wants you to do something. And although your dear flatmate isn’t usually the one to order in, much preferring to cook meals at home and save the leftovers for another day, you wouldn’t find her desperation for pizza as strange, if it wasn’t for the batting of her eyelashes and her pleading voice.

Surely, she doesn’t need the pizza that much, right?

“I’m not saying we don’t, I’m just saying I have leftover soup from yesterday that I have to eat tonight or else it’s gonna go bad,” you justify your protests, “but you can get one, if you want. I’m not stopping you,” you say, furrowing your eyebrows at the girl in confusion before reaching for the TV remote.

“Oh come oooon, Y/N,” she pressures, pouting at you in disappointment. More weight is put into your body as she clings to you, acting like a child throwing a tantrum. “You deserve to have delicious pizza for dinner today, because you finally bagged that internship! Isn’t that a reason to celebrate?”

“We can just pop the champagne, if you wanna celebrate–”

“Y/N, can we please just get the pizza tonight?” she turns serious for once, the smile disappearing off her face, replaced by a much more stoic expression. And see, that’s a little scary– desperation can make people do bad, bad things. You’d be a fool to turn down your flatmate’s request– you’d have to sleep with one eye open tonight…

“Okay, fine,” you grunt, shaking your head at her ridiculous antics, “from the usual place?” 

“NO!” the girl chimes, making you jump in your place on the sofa with the loudness of her voice. If she wants to scream, she should move further away from your ear, goddamn it. After sending her a look full of anger, she offers you an apologetic one before she reaches for her laptop resting on the coffee table in front of you, opening it and pressing in a new Google search. “There’s this place I found with Yizhuo after class one day,” she says, scrolling through the browser and finding the site of the place she wants to order from today, “and they make pretty good pizza. So just choose one and then I’ll put it through the online order.”

“They have online orders?” you hum, interested. “Twenty-first century, this is. Online shopping for pizza…” you snicker, shaking your head in disbelief. Maybe you’re getting old– and it’s not like you don’t enjoy the comfort this gives you, not at all, you just find it a little strange to order food over the internet. What happened to phone calls?

“Yes, grandma,” Izzy sighs, “that’s like, a normal thing, I fear.”

Rolling your eyes at her irony, you scan the menu before deciding on your usual– margherita, extra cheesy. After pointing your finger at the pizza of your choice, your roommate takes it upon herself to add the meal to her cart (while also adding one she likes as well) before she proceeds further with the order. Your eyes stay glued to her, interested in the way this whole thing works– because let’s be real, ordering a pizza without having social interaction is every introvert’s dream– and watch as she hesitantly clicks onto the “add a note to your order” section of the website.

Confusion fills your veins as you stare your roommate down. What more could she possibly need for this order? Does she not just want to eat? Does she need her pizza sliced in a special way, or does she want the pepperoni in the shape of a flower, or something? You really wouldn’t be surprised, with how peculiar Izzy could get sometimes, but still– wasn’t she the one mourning about how hungry she was just a few minutes ago? Surely, she would want her food to get here the fastest it can, with no additional requests that would take up too much time.

“Don’t say anything,” she mumbles as she starts typing, and finally, it all starts to make sense.

The desperation in her voice. The determination. The need to have a pizza tonight, right now. Because after reading out the words she’s written down, you realize that it was never about the pizza itself in the first place. Knowing Izzy, you should’ve known– after the months of sharing an apartment with her, you should’ve been able to predict her antics.

There, proud, black on white, shine five words saying: Send your cutest delivery boy :)

“Izzy what the fuck–”

“I told you not to say anything!” she cuts you off, clicking through the rest of the order hurriedly, as if worried you were going to make her delete her embarrassing request.

“Okay, miss, ‘I don’t chase no man!’, I see that you’re living up to your motto. What? You ate there with Yizhuo last week and saw a cute guy doing deliveries, so you thought you’d drag him to our house instead of asking for his number like a normal person?” you grunt, shaking your head at the lengths your roommate is willing to go to– while also making her own life twice as complicated as it needs to be.

“Well, pretty much, yeah,” she peeps as she closes the laptop after paying for your pizzas– you’re not paying her back, just for the record. Not after she just publicly embarrassed you by making that stupid request with your address attached. 

“Are you crazy?” you scoff. “Why didn’t you just talk to him back there?”

“He was busy!” she mourns. “Look, this is me shooting my shot. You’re getting a pizza out of it, so I don’t see the problem here.”

“The problem is you doing all of this when you could’ve literally just walked up to him last week and introduced yourself,” you say, watching your roommate physically crumble under your scolding, but truthful words.

Izzy slides down further into the sofa, as if to shield herself from the attack. She puts her hands over her face, hiding the blush on her cheeks as she mourns into the silent apartment. “Look, I was shy, okay?” she says.

“But not shy enough to be so bold over the internet, huh?” you mock her, feeling your roommate’s hand slap your upper arm in frustration.

“You should’ve seen him, Y/N! There was no way I was going to walk up to him after the whole day I spent at uni. I looked like a dead rat, that’s not how you pull men,” she mutters. “And he looked so perfect, so adorable, it’s… I keep thinking about him and his plump lips and his dark messy hair, and he was so tall and–”

“Okay, okay,” you cut her off, a hint of annoyance tinting your tone. “I’ll see him with my own two eyes in a bit anyway,” you comment, “if he’s really the cutest out of them, as you requested,” you snicker. 

“He is! I swear. There is no way he isn’t going to appear on our doorstep in a few minutes, trust me.”

Little did the two of you know that you caused havoc on the other side of the town. It was a slow day in Sohn’s Pizza, leaving the two part-timers on duty scrolling through their phones, awaiting any new customers. It was the middle of the week, 2 hours before their closing, and so the sound of the new online order coming in surprised the two boys, having the owner’s son sit up from his place in the corner of the room and click through the system.

“Dad, it says one extra cheesy margherita and one pepperoni!” Eric yells out into the kitchen, followed by a loud acknowledging hum from the cook himself. Sunwoo looks up from under his chocolate bangs, pausing the game he’s been playing on his phone, licking his lips.

“Do you wanna go?” he asks, obviously too lazy to move from the pizzeria. See, the two part-timers had many responsibilities. One wasn’t just a delivery man or just the server. Because Eric’s father didn’t really trust anyone with his business, he relied only on the people closest to him– which caused this place to operate mostly as a family business. Sunwoo only got the job because he was Eric’s longest friend, and that made the Sohn family consider him as one of them. 

That meant the pizzeria was almost always short on staff, though– which was a problem Eric complained to his dad about more often than not, being too busy with deliveries and also wiping down the tables, serving the customers and helping with the sides. The poor boy already learned that his dad won’t do anything about it from the sheer discomfort of having to go through the hiring process with anyone, though, and so after a while, he just stopped trying.

“I dunno,” he shrugs, eyes scanning the order. “It has a note, though.”

“What does it say?” Sunwoo asks, voice barely coated in any interest. Eric would argue that the boy doesn’t really care, but is just asking to seem mentally present.

“Send your cutest delivery boy, smiley face,” Eric hums, snickering to himself. Now, that’s a request he hasn’t gotten before– and the pizzeria has been open for quite some time now.

“Oh, so I’m going,” Sunwoo says, already standing up from his place in the camping chair behind the counter even though the order isn’t ready yet, full confidence flowing through the man’s veins.

“Didn’t you just ask me if I’m going?” Eric jokes, eyes darting towards his coworker.

“Yeah, but that was before I saw the note,” Sunwoo scoffs, “we obviously don’t want our customers to be unhappy, so I’m going to do my job, and as the cutest one, go deliver these pizzas.”

“Where did the confidence come from?” Eric clicks his tongue. “Well, that being said, I am going to deliver these.”

“So you think you’re cuter than me?” Sunwoo looks at his friend with a stern face, and to be honest, it’s kind of funny how serious the matter is for the boys. They would both blame the 8 hour shift getting to their brains, but in reality, it’s clear as day that they both want to win this argument. 

“I’d say so,” Eric nods. “Didn’t you say you were more sexy than cute the other day?” 

Sunwoo looks at his friend suspiciously. He doesn’t really remember the full context of the conversation, but he does remember stating the fact– and although he’d argue it’s true, he also doesn’t want to lose to Eric. Because look– the job is taking up the majority of the boys’ time, so looking for a girlfriend has gotten severely more difficult. 

Why not take the opportunity at work? And besides, everything is more entertaining than sitting around and waiting for the place to close for the day.

“I did,” Sunwoo carefully admits, “but that was more to do with the general attractivity. I’d say those two go hand in hand, and therefore me, as the objectively more desirable one, should go deliver these.” 

Eric blinks slowly at his friend, trying to process the self-absorbed words spilling out of the taller one’s mouth. “Are you calling me ugly right now?”

“No–”

“I’m pretty sure you just called me ugly.”

“I would never–”

“I’d say I’m the cuter one,” Eric snaps back, shrugging. “I have this aura around me–”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous. You know the note was obviously for me, so why don’t we stop this and you let me make this delivery? You can always do the next one–”

The argument is growing more heated. Who would’ve thought such a simple note would lead to two men trying to advertise themselves as the cuter one? The room is filled with testosterone, although the objective of the fight was somewhere completely else– the question was who the cuter one was, and if they had to be truthful, they had to go with facts, no?

Small things are cute. Eric is shorter than Sunwoo. Logically, it should be him– but he won’t say this comment out loud in fear of carrying the burden of admitting to his laughable height in front of his spiteful friend’s ears. 

“How can you tell it was for you?” Eric scoffs. The arguments were starting to get ridiculous.

“It was the energy, I swear, the note is calling for me–”

“Boys, the pizzas are ready!” the voice of Eric’s dad calls from the kitchen, making both of them snap their heads towards the source and hurry. Never in a thousand years have either of them reacted to an order so quickly– not even in the highest of rushes– when they reach for the two boxes with grabby hands, like it was some sort of a prize.

It felt like everything was on the line. Eric Sohn prides himself in being a fast runner, but when he senses the taller boy breathing down his neck, he breaks all rules of safe workspace and also friendship as he outstretches his leg towards the right, tripping the boy– all to win the title of the cutest delivery boy.

Snatching the pizzas and also the car keys, Eric pays his coworker a victorious smile. Sunwoo glares at him from the ground, breathing heavily, anger roaring inside of his body. Eric finds this as his cue to hurry out before he’s attacked– while he’s a good runner, he was never quite good at combat– and so he jogs out of the pizzeria and unlocks the door to the Honda Civic parked outside, hopping in and typing in the address into the GPS on his phone.

Back over at your place, you try to pass the time by watching the TV. Netflix failed you with its poor selection of things to watch– mainly because you’ve already seen most of the true crime documentaries that you could find– so you just let yourself get pulled into the doom of teleshopping, your brain quickly getting used to the flashing images and over-exaggerated voices advertising the newest sumo slicer. You had a long day at university today– while also finally managing to get the internship with the company you dreamed of working for– and after all of the stress, your brain decided to simply turn off.

You’re only taken out from your trance as the doorbell rings, making you jump slightly at the loud noise. Dinner must be here– your stomach churning at the premise of a good pizza already (you have to give it to Izzy. She was right and you do deserve pizza tonight)– and so you stand up from the sofa in the living room, calling for your roommate.

“Izzy, the pizza’s here! Come get the door if you wanna see the guy!” you yell into the depths of your apartment. 

You get no response. Did she fall asleep? “Izzy!” you call again, this time louder.

“Coming!” you hear her reply. You wait a few seconds, standing in the hall, when the doorbell rings again– after not opening the door for at least 2 minutes, you’re starting to get worried that the delivery man will just turn on his heel and take your pizzas away from you. 

And you can’t let that happen– not when you were finally persuaded into eating them– all because your roommate is seemingly getting ready to open the door and see the newly found love of her life, probably putting on some cute clothes in her room.

“I’m just gonna get it!” you say, reaching for the door handle.

Opening the door, you are met with the sight of a delivery boy standing on the other side, two boxes in his hands, shifting weight from his heel to the tips of his toes. He sends you a soft smile before he raises his eyebrows at you so high they almost touch the red cap adorning his head, opening his mouth to speak.

“Eric?”

“Y/N?”

Both of you shock the other with the recognition. You haven’t seen Eric Sohn since elementary school– and while you must admit that the son of your parents’ friends grew up to be mildly attractive, you must say he hasn’t changed a bit. Now, this whole interaction grew even more embarrassing for you– you completely forgot about the note.

“Hello?” your roommate calls from behind you, walking up to the door in– you guessed it– her finest clothes. She always wears this outfit out, which makes you roll your eyes at her. She is trying too hard. And for whom? Eric Sohn, of all people?

“Izzy, here’s the cutest delivery boy you asked for,” you awkwardly say, trying to save your face. You won’t allow her to embarrass you like this– yes, you are completely content with throwing her under the bus in this situation. This is the boy you were forced to hang out with the whole entirety of elementary school, after all. You won’t let her humiliate you by making him believe it was you who found him so attractive.

Because let’s face it– he wasn’t. Well… 

Maybe he was and you’re lying to yourself. But still– you won’t let him think you’d be so pathetic to shoot your shot by an online order. The boxes in his hands have Sohn’s pizza written all over them– maybe you should’ve paid more attention to the name of the pizzeria you were ordering from. 

“Ah,” Izzy hums, and something in her composure shifts. Her shoulders drop and her smile dims– and that’s when you realize Eric is not the delivery boy she was hoping for. You have to laugh at her.

Izzy makes no effort to move or take the pizzas from the boy’s hands, and that’s when you take charge. Sighing at her, you move her out of the way before you send Eric an apologetic smile, freeing him off your order. “Thank you for the pizzas,” you say, watching as the delivery boy nods at you, offering you an awkward smile.

You push the boxes into Izzy’s hands, ordering her with your eyes to take them into the kitchen. As she slowly moves out of the hall and disappears into the apartment, you face the boy again, still standing at your doorstep. You scan him all over– from the top of his red cap that’s hiding his honey blonde locks to the black cargo pants covering his legs– before you nod to yourself, the awkward atmosphere making you tense under his gaze.

“Uhm…” you hum, not really knowing what else to say to diffuse the atmosphere. This is embarrassing. This is humiliating. Why did your dumb roommate do this? 

Now she got the poor boy disappointed. Couldn’t Izzy at least act like he’s the one?

“Well, I’ll.. see you around, I guess…?” Eric says, nodding to himself. He scratches the back of his neck as he looks at you– one short glance up and down that doesn’t go unnoticed by you, making you instantly regret getting the door in your sweatpants and the pink socks with hearts and a single hole on the toe on them– before he takes a step back from the doorstep and starts walking away from your apartment.

“Yeah,” you clear your throat, mentally punching yourself with how pathetic you sound, “see you around. And… and thank you again! For the pizzas, I mean…” you hum. Now, you’re mentally kicking yourself. Scratch that, you’re throwing yourself down the stairs. Why are you so awkward? You’re only making it worse.

He flashes you a smile, not oblivious to the shame you feel. If you really think about it, the situation is kind of funny, isn’t it? 

“Bye, Y/N,” he says, waving at you as he walks down the stairwell, sending you one last glance over his shoulder.

“Yeah, bye!”

Closing the door behind you, you try to take deep breaths to steady yourself. You will murder your roommate with your own two hands and use her blood as the sauce for your pizza. Slowly walking towards the kitchen, you see Izzy munching on the pepperoni slice, sending you a look full of innocence.

“Well, that didn’t work out,” she says, trying to make light of the situation, ignoring how embarrassing this situation was for both parties involved. Without a word, you sit down at the table, opening the box of your pizza of choice, taking a bite. 

“Are you okay? You seem a bit–”

“Shut it.”

“How was it, bubs?” Izzy asks you once you get into the car while simultaneously reaching for the volume button on the radio, turning the music down so she can hear you talk.

“Terrible,” you mourn, sighing as you buckle your seatbelt and watch your roommate back out of the parking lot. She was nice enough to offer to drive you home after your first day of your new mandatory internship, and although you told her over and over how you didn’t need a ride and could just walk home after, you’re actually very grateful for her act of kindness now– for your feet hurt like a bitch and you’re so mentally tired you think you could get lost on your way home, had you not paid enough attention.

“That bad?” she hums, voice full of consideration. Izzy only pays you a short look full of undeniable worry before she gazes back at the road– thankfully, because she is not the best driver and you think her not paying full attention to where she’s going would significantly lower the chances of you getting home safely today– subtly allowing you to vent about the day you had.

A grunt escapes your mouth. “Yeah,” you agree, “it’s just– god. The place is full of morons, my boss is demanding a marketing project from me until the end of my internship, everyone keeps using me as their coffee delivery person because I’m new, and I forgot everyone’s names already…” you complain, furrowing your brows in concern. How are you going to survive going there weekly?

As a business student, you have to go through an internship in order to successfully graduate. Getting one was already hard enough, but the responsibilities that come with doing all the stuff you’re not even educated enough to do yet are only making the weight on your shoulders heavier and heavier to the point where you suddenly start to doubt if you’re even good enough for your major. Hell, you barely have any interest in it in the first place– hence why you lack the enthusiasm your boss would surely love to see from you.

“Can’t they just not make it easier for you?” she shakes her head in disapproval. “You’re a mere student, not the new hire,” Izzy grunts, sympathizing with you.

“Apparently not,” you roll your eyes. “I’m so tired, man…” you sigh, resting your head against the window, letting your eyes close for a bit. “Thanks for giving me a ride, Izz.”

“No worries,” she innocently replies. Almost too innocently, you think– but with the amount of hours you slept last night and the mental overload of new information you had today, you choose to not pay much attention to it. Maybe you’re just making it up…

If the drive was a bit longer, you’re sure you would’ve fallen asleep. The car comes to a halt in a few more minutes, though, and the sudden silence of the vehicle as the engine turns off and the radio goes silent has you opening your eyes, scanning your surroundings.

And you were right. Izzy was almost too nice in giving you a ride home. You should’ve known she always had different motives.

“Why are we here?” you ask, choosing not to face her so you don’t have to look at the dumb smile on her face again, for you think that if she dared to force innocence on herself right now, you’d seriously punch her.

“Oh,” she hums, “I thought we could get pizza for dinner.”

“We had pizza last week,” you deadpan, tone of voice only a bit hostile.

“That’s correct,” she agrees, “however, I am in the mood for some pizza right now. And we don’t really have any groceries at home, so I think this is the best alternative to end your bad day–”

“You’re not dragging me in there after embarrassing us so much last week, Isabelle,” you grunt, pulling out the full name to act more tough and get your point across. “I am never going there again. You simply can’t force me–”

“Oh come on! You’re ruining all fun.”

“That’s because I am not having fun right now,” you note, already too tired after the long day.

“Then let me cheer you up! I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about it,” Izzy glares at you, sighing. “Besides, the last time I checked, you owe me pizza, and I would like to redeem that now.”

“Since when–”

“Don’t think I forgot that you didn’t pay me back last time,” she cuts you off, sending you a stern look.

If you were closer to home right now, you would’ve left the car and just walked back to your apartment, leaving your dear flatmate to get her pizza alone. You both know you’re not here for the pizza itself anyway– so why does she need you there? As an excuse? It’s already embarrassing enough for the both of you. Why won’t she just drop it?

But since the circumstances are given the way they are– you’re tired, hungry, frustrated and full of worry about your internship– you figure there is really no need to argue with your roommate right now. When she sets her mind on something, she is going to get it, no matter what. You know her well enough.

“Fine,” you sigh, getting out of the car and slamming the passenger door with as much force as you can humanly conjure in yourself after the long day, satisfaction flowing through your veins at the sound that’s loud enough to make your roommate jump in surprise.

You’re going to give her what she wants, but you’re not going to act happy about it. You’re just gonna get the pizza and leave. That’s the plan.

Walking up to the building of Sohn’s Pizza, you push the door open, ears instantly catching the low music coming from speakers situated in the corners of the room. You haven’t been here before, so you take your sweet time looking around– noticing the neat-looking interior, admiring the wooden furniture– before you walk towards the table in the corner of the middle-sized restaurant, sitting down. Izzy follows you like a lost puppy with its tail wagging because she got what she wanted before she sits down opposite of you, offering you a giant smile. She is like a kid under the Christmas tree with the toy she always desired securely in her grasp. Which is weird– the cute delivery boy hasn’t even shown up yet.

After scanning the menu for a bit– since you already know what you’re going to get– a server walks up to your table, a big, welcoming smile on her face. She is short even when wearing heels, hair pulled up into a ponytail, straight-across bangs sitting on her forehead. It’s been years since you last saw her, but the resemblance is undeniable– it’s Eric Sohn’s older sister.

“Hello! What can I get for you today, girls?” she asks as she takes out a notepad. Her eyes land on you for a bit before she gasps, even a bigger smile appearing on her cheeks, if that’s possible. “Oh my god, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you nod, grinning. “It’s me.”

“How are you?” she asks, beaming. You and Lisa were never really close– since she was so much older than you back when you hung around the Sohn’s house, but she was always really kind to you. You remember her making snacks for you and Eric to eat in afternoons or taking you two out to get ice cream, your heart squeezing at the nostalgic memories.

“I’m good, what about you?” you ask, genuinely interested.

“I’m fine,” she nods. “Well, just rotting in here, if I’m being honest, but other than that, I’ve been good,” she laughs, making you mirror her actions.

“Well, it’s really pretty here, if that makes you feel any better,” you smile.

She shrugs at your compliment. “I did most of the decorating, so it should be,” she snickers before she looks back at you after scanning over the entire room. “What will you get today, then?”

“Just a margherita is fine,” you note, “could I possibly get extra cheese on that?” 

“Anything for little Y/N,” she hums, making you roll your eyes at her teasing– yet the grin never leaves your features. “And for your friend?”

“I’ll get pepperoni,” she peeps. It’s unusual for your roommate to be so quiet in a conversation– you guess she was caught off guard at your sudden acquaintanceship with the staff in her new favorite restaurant.

“Coming right up!” Lisa smiles, walking away from your table.

After the server leaves, you are left with a few seconds of silence from your roommate. You raise your brows at her in question, mocking her change in demeanor, waiting for her to get back to her usual, chatty self. “What?”

“You know her?”

“Obviously,” you snicker. “Our families used to be close years ago,” you note, shrugging.  “We lived in the same neighborhood.”

“Wow…” she hums. “So you know that guy who dropped our pizzas off last week as well?”

“I do,” you nod. “We are the same age, so our mums forced us to hang out often.”

“Interesting….” Izzy says, lost in thought. If you didn’t know better, you’d suspect she was scheming something up. Actually, you think you know her well enough– just give it a few more minutes.

The door opens again, making you two look around and watch the people coming into the restaurant. Instead of new customers, you are met with two men obviously wearing work uniforms– white shirts with a pizza logo in red on them– the shorter one with a cap on, the taller one with baggy jeans adorning his long legs. You recognise one of them instantly– and even despite the nature of the restaurant, his presence still shocks you and makes you feel alarmed.

You feel something come in contact with your shin as your roommate kicks your leg under the table. “That’s him, that’s him, that’s him–” Izzy chimes, whispering, making you furrow your brows at her in question. Yeah, of course that’s him. Eric’s dad owns the restaurant. Who the other guy by his side is, though, you don’t–

oh.

So that must be the cute delivery boy your roommate has been thirsting over for the last couple of weeks. She has a lot of determination in her, you’ll give her that. If it was you, you would’ve forgotten about a random mediocrily attractive server after a day or two. Not her, though. What a strange woman…

“Y/N!” you hear for the second time today. Your heart skips a beat at the tone this time, making you remember the events of last week, heat instantly creeping up your neck at the memory.

“Hi,” you peep, watching as the two men make a bee-line towards your table.

“Hello,” he greets. He wears a bright smile on his face– one that makes his cheeks look fuller, something in his eyes glimmering (you think it might just be the reflection of the lights). He is wearing a blue cap today, covering his honey locks– which leaves you wondering if he has a fucked haircut, or if he really just likes to wear hats that much– but other than that, his attire is the same as last time. “What’s up?” he asks.

Casual. Friendly. Like nothing happened– like this whole encounter isn’t totally embarrassing. 

Or is it not? Are you just being overly-dramatic again? You really don’t know at this point. 

Still, you act nonchalant. “Oh, not much,” you hum, “just got off my first day of internship, so we decided to get some pizza to comfort myself.”

“Didn’t go well?” Eric asks, a sympathetic look on his face. Somehow, his concern seems genuine.

“You could say that,” you note, shrugging.

“It will be better next time,” he says lightly, smiling at you all encouragingly. For the first time in the last couple of seconds, you pay attention to your roommate again– seeing her eyes glued to the taller boy. If this was a cartoon, there would be hearts drawn in her sockets and she would be drooling. Izzy seems to be totally enchanted with the delivery boy currently standing to Eric’s right, and you can’t stand the view any longer.

“Oh, this is Sunwoo, by the way,” Eric says, introducing his coworker. 

“Nice to meet you,” you smile, shaking the boy’s hand. He sends you a boyish grin, greeting you back, before he moves towards your flatmate, holding her hand in his.

“Izzy,” she introduces herself, tone of voice a few octaves higher than usual. “We’re roommates.”

“I gathered as much,” Eric notes– almost a little awkwardly– making your body electrify with a full body cringe. Why can’t he just pretend last week didn’t happen?

“Yeah,” you hum, nodding and scratching the back of your neck. “She pretty much dragged me here, haha…” you vocalize the laughter as a word, mentally slapping yourself. Haha? What’s so funny? Y/N, you’re only making it worse.

“Well, it’s nice seeing you again,” Eric says. When your eyes meet, he averts his gaze, an awkward cough battling its way out of his throat. “Uhm… we better get back to work, or else my sister’s gonna kill me–”

“Oh, but it’s not busy!” Izzy suddenly utters out, making you snap your head towards her with shock, a look worthy of many words burning a hole into the middle of her forehead. What is she thinking? “Why don’t you sit with us for a while? It seems like you and Y/N have a lot to catch up on,” your roommate sweetly says, throwing the burden onto your shoulders again. 

Why are you suddenly forced into the role of a wingman? You really didn’t sign up for this.

“Oh, I–”

“I could use a little break,” Sunwoo grins, not even waiting for his coworker to immediately deny the idea. You swear you can mentally hear your roommate's excited squealing on a telepathic frequency as the dark-haired boy takes a seat right next to her, sprawling his legs wide and resting his back against the chair, seemingly tired. “Come on, Eric. Lisa has a soft spot for me, she won’t eat our heads off.”

Eric meets your gaze. You hope your brains match at frequencies with the boy as well as you send him mental apologies, the atmosphere once again getting too awkward for you to handle. He seems to be the victim of his friend’s terrorizing strategies as much as you are, though, so you think there is silent understandment hanging in the air over the two of you as he reluctantly sits on the chair next to you.

You’re starting to think Izzy has a death wish. You’re also starting to be fairly certain that you will be the one to fulfill it.

The passage of time is weird. It’s a strange construct to you, finding yourself dwelling on it at times when it’s the least suitable to– especially when you have things to do and a workload to get through. See, it’s incredibly bizarre to you how when you’re doing nothing, time is passing by quickly without you even noticing it: a few episodes of your favorite TV show go by and you’re suddenly well into the evening. When you’re working on assignments, though, it seems like time has stopped. 

You promised yourself you’re going to stay in the library and work on the project you were assigned in your internship until at least 6PM. You arrived at 3 o’clock– three hours should be easy, right? Not that much time.

Wrong. Because you swear you’ve been aimlessly searching around the internet and writing things down for at least 10 years now, and it’s only been an hour and you still have two more to go. Time is weird like that. It’s fascinating– at least when you hypnotize the numbers in the right corner of your screen, sucked into the doom of your laptop. Maybe you should’ve taken Physics instead. You’d love to learn about this.

(The fact that this has nothing to do with Physics and everything to do with your focus and attention is a completely invalid argument to you at this moment, so you don’t even let yourself think about it.)

Something finally pulls you out of the hyper focused state that you put yourself in while staring at the time on your screen (as if to mentally push the clock to go faster), and that is a figure moving right opposite of you, resting their hand on the back of a chair.

“Hi,” you hear, making you snap your head up and face the intruder, “can I sit here?”

“Hi…?” you mumble, watching the boy in front of you not wait for your answer as he pulls the chair back and settles his body onto it. He empties his pockets in the true manly fashion– putting his wallet, his phone and his keys onto the wooden table– all while letting you absorb his existence for a bit before you have to react to it some more. 

You spent years not seeing Eric Sohn. Now, you bump into him at least every other week. Strange.

He is wearing a simple white hoodie, his hair now not covered by a cap. You glance over the honey blonde locks, noting to yourself that he does not have a messed up trim, which means he just must like hats a lot. You feel like you should probably say something– start up a conversation– but the shock of seeing him is still settled deep in your bones, stopping you from every attempt.

Looking around the library, you note that it’s half-empty– meaning that Eric could’ve chosen any seat, any other seat in the whole entire place– yet he chose to sit right opposite of you at one of the long tables in the middle of the room. Nodding to yourself as you absorb the information, you open your mouth to say something– anything– before the boy beats you to it, acting in his true, nonchalant casualty.

“What are you working on?” he asks. “I mean… you seemed quite miserable when I arrived, so I assumed it was for the best to take you out of the frozen state before you go crazy,” he jokes, having you close your mouth and awkwardly smile at him.

“Yeah,” you hum, shrugging. “I was mainly just trying to force the time to go quicker with the sheer power of my gaze, but I think it doesn’t work like that…” 

“You set up a timer for yourself?” he asks, laughing.

“Kinda,” you nod. “I knew I had to hold myself accountable and do work, or else I’m going to leave things until the last minute and hate myself even more for not doing anything sooner, so I told myself I’ll work on my assignments until 6, but it’s… easier said than done.”

Eric nods at you, acknowledging your struggle. He takes out his own laptop and presses the power button. As he waits for it to turn on, he looks back at you, his gaze making you nervous. 

It’s not that you don’t like Eric– not at all, you have your fair share of fond memories with the boy when you were little– it’s just that you haven’t seen him in ages, haven’t properly talked to him since you were kids. You know nothing about the man he is right now– aside from the fact that his father owns a pizza place now. You don’t even know what he majors in. Hell, you didn’t even know he went to the same university as you up to this point– which makes everything just a little bit too awkward for you.

How to navigate the conversation? What to talk about? Why does he not just… ignore you? It’s not like the two of you were that close in the first place.

“What do you major in?” he asks. You wonder if it’s sheer politeness, or if he really just wants to know.

“Business,” you say, tone of voice hinting that you’re not really satisfied with your own answer. “I’m actually supposed to be working on a project for my mandatory internship right now.”

“Damn… what is it?” he asks. 

Scratching the back of your neck, you lick your lips before answering. “It’s like… I have to make a pitch about a new product for them to sell. I work in the sales section for Trust, the insurance company, so I have to do a lot of… market research… and then also marketing… it’s… kind of a lot, actually…” you nervously laugh, trying to diffuse the fact that you’re genuinely scared of the very project you were assigned.

Eric stares at you with interest, a look of acknowledgement settling onto his face. “Wow. That sounds hard.”

“I mean, I don’t know…” you shrug. “Maybe I’m just too stupid for this–”

“No you’re not,” the boy instantly cuts you off, shaking your head. “I’d say they just have high demands from you.”

His words do a bit to soothe you. You avoid asking your classmates about their internships in fear of being the only one that’s finding things hard and being overly-dramatic. Talking to someone who doesn’t really have the same experience as you makes things a bit easier– you can complain and they won’t judge, because there’s no way they know how it feels. Eric won’t judge you for finding your business internship hard, because he doesn’t know what it takes– at least not on his own skin. But if you’d complain to your classmate Yeji, for example, she might find it weird– what if your tasks are the easiest thing to do in her eyes?

“Thanks,” you hum. “What do you major in, though?” you ask him, somehow committing to keeping the conversation going for just a little more time.

“Communications,” he laughs. “I just… write a lot of papers, I guess.”

“Ah,” you nod in acknowledgement. 

You feel like you should add something. Maybe you should comment, sympathize, ask more questions, but in the moment, no fitting words reach your mind. After a heartbeat of silence, Eric’s eyes finally leave your figure to focus on his laptop, and the only thing resonating through your brain is the fact that the last two times you met him, it was painfully awkward and maybe a little strange– which leads you to questioning the fact that he still chose to approach you today.

“Look, Eric, we… you don’t have to act like we’re friends now,” you say, refusing to meet his gaze. Somehow, your blank laptop screen is much more interesting. “And I’m sorry about last week,” you note, tone of voice lighthearted– trying to mask how much you actually think about the encounters and how they make you wish they never even happened. Somehow, you worry about how you’re perceived by him. “My roommate just kind of likes your coworker– Sunwoo–” you call him by his name, “so she has been doing all of this to get his attention, and it’s…”

“It’s okay,” Eric laughs, making you glance up from the blank document and finally meet his eyes. There is no stern look on his face, no signs of disappointment or disgust on his features. It helps you calm down a bit. “I’m used to girls being all over Sunwoo, really,” he says, shrugging.

“Yeah…” you sigh. “Sorry for making it all awkward, and stuff. As I said, you don’t have to feel obliged to–”

“I don’t, though,” he hums. The sentiment silences you. You offer him nothing but a nod, suddenly at a loss for words. “Look, we used to be close when we were kids,” he shrugs, “so don’t even worry about it.”

You’re not really sure what his words are meant to imply. Does he mean that you’re friends now again? Does he mean he doesn’t find this whole thing absolutely awkward? Are you supposed to hang out more often now? Do you get his number? 

After trying to clarify everything, you’re left even more confused.

If there’s one thing about Eric Sohn that you remember from your childhood, it’s the fact that he’s friendly. And also… pretty fucking competetive. “It’s almost 4:30. Whoever gives up on their assignment first pays for coffee later, yeah?” he challenges you, looking at you with mischief glimmering in his dark orbs.

You guess both of these qualities stayed with him until adulthood, and although you were awkward with him just a few minutes ago, you don’t really have it in you to overthink the interaction any longer.

“Deal,” you nod.

As if this was all the motivation you needed, you get back to working.

“Jokes on you, drinking is not a forfeit for me,” Jake, the underclassmen you see around the campus sometimes says after a round of spin the bottle in which he refuses to make out with the person to his right (that was friend Sunghoon from middle school, just for the record), “I actually enjoy it. So–”

“You should stop drinking, dude…” the said friend nudges him to his shoulder, looking at the boy with a concerned look in his eye. It’s no secret that both of them are light drinkers, but one of them is clearly handling his alcohol worse– and it’s the shorter one of the two. 

“Why? You wanna make out with me?”

“I’d rather not carry you home again, that’s all–”

“That sounds a bit sus, Hoon–” Jake snickers before he downs the shot of whatever alcohol is passed to him, “y’know, if you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just said so…” he slurs, making Sunghoon sigh, closing his eyes for a second to collect himself in time before the frustration in him turns into anger and he swings at his friend.

You can’t help but laugh at the commotion. You don’t really go out to party much– since you and Izzy are introverted, you don’t really search for these types of gatherings– but you figured that doing something other than watching the TV on a Friday evening would be nice. Especially when you were invited by the guy you met in your internship. 

It felt rude to deny an invitation to a party by Park Jihoon, given the fact that you wanted to make friends and connections during your stay with the company. He is an intern just like you– maybe a bit more energetic and extroverted, that’s all. Which you welcome with open arms, just for the record. It’s been a while since an extrovert extroverted the way they are supposed to and adopted you– it’s always a pleasant experience.

You’re also not really the one to participate in a game of spin the bottle. You find such games embarrassing and nerve-wrecking. They induce anxiety in you from what you have to do, and it’s not the good kind. The adrenaline in your veins is enough for you to call it quits, but then again, you’re always good at falling for peer pressure and your roommate’s battling eyelashes are ones you don’t find yourself resisting too often. 

There’s alcohol running through your system, warming you up. Wearing a cropped top and shorts surprisingly didn’t really help you to cool down as you soothe yourself with alcohol after another week of stressing yourself over your damn internship project (which Jihoon offered to help with, but you’re too much of an individualist to let anyone partake in even just the smallest task of your assignment) and after careful consideration, you realize you haven’t had that much to eat before turning up to the party.

Which is always a mistake. Drinking on an empty stomach is one of the biggest flaws you bring with yourself to social gatherings.

“Maybe I should eat,” you suddenly comment, perking up the attention of Jihoon to your right. He looks at you with considerate eyes and nods.

“There should be pizza coming soon, actually.”

“Really?” you gasp, excitement suddenly flowing through your bones. It’s been at least a month since you last had pizza, and you’re slowly starting to crave it. Did Izzy give up on that cute delivery boy? Maybe you should remind her… the pizza was worth it, you must admit.

“Yeah–” 

And as if you wished it into existence, the sound of the doorbell suddenly brings you out of the conversation and has people closest to the door standing up to get it.

It seems like randomly running up to Eric Sohn is your newest hobby. It’s strange how life works– you haven’t seen him in ages, and suddenly, he finds his way to randomly walk back into the plotline of your life casually, as if it was fate. It’s kind of laughable, really. 

Because there he is– standing behind the door with boxes of pizza in his hands, accompanied by his friend Sunwoo holding up even more. The amount could feed a whole village, you think, and you’re suddenly glad you aren’t the one paying for the food, since you’re sure it would add up to a big check. The crowd hollers at the two boys at the door, and it takes you a few seconds to realize it’s not because of the feast they just brought into the building.

“Eric! Sunwoo! Come in, you two!” Jihoon suddenly calls from next to you, waving the two over with a motion of his hand. This has the shorter boy look into the spacious living room, eyes scanning the surroundings. His eyes fix on you for a second, offering you a smile, before they move back to the host.

“Can’t, we’re on the clock, actually,” Eric snickers awkwardly, shrugging.

“Oh come on!” Haechan, the boy that was introduced to you today as Jihoon’s best friend, joins. It seems like everyone around knows exactly who Eric Sohn is, and it leaves you wondering just how you managed to unawarely avoid him for all those years. “Just for a bit!”

“Yeah,” Jihoon adds. “Just stay for like 10 minutes, or something. Actually,” the tipsy boy has a million-dollar idea, “I’m not paying y’all until you stay for a bit. How about that?”

“Great, dude,” Sunwoo laughs, shaking his head in disbelief at his friend’s tactics. “Let’s go in, then.”

The two get ridded of the pizzas they brought, walking up into the room. You feel Izzy poking your leg with her pointer finger repeatedly, and when you look at her, she is staring at you with eyes that remind you of someone slowly slipping into a manic state. You think it’s the effect of Kim Sunwoo entering the room with a smirk on his face, but you’re not really sure at this point.

“What are we playing?” Sunwoo asks the obvious as he sits down, dragging his friend with him. Their spot is currently straight across from you. After more careful examination, you realize Eric’s eyes are glued on your figure, making you smile at him and wave silently before he moves to scan your new friend sitting close to your right. 

The last time you’ve seen Eric was that day at the library. That was almost 2 weeks ago now, and although you went for a coffee after you declared that you ‘simply can’t do it anymore’ and ‘would rather die than to work on this project any longer’, he insisted on paying for both of your drinks instead of making you do it, as was previously agreed on. You exchanged numbers after chatting and walking around for a bit, and although you waited for him to text you the same week, he never did, and you never tried to make conversation either.

Somehow, you simply didn’t know what to say. Then again– it’s not like the two of you were friends in the first place.

The game proceeds like before even with the new members added. Some of the people hanging out around the living room move to eat the pizzas, but if you’re being completely honest, the idea of eating was long forgotten to you the moment Eric and Sunwoo walked through the front door. Admittedly, maybe you did have a considerate amount to drink this evening, because everything is starting to turn into a bit of a blur from this moment. You watch the game absent-mindedly, not really taking much in, as your eyes sometimes subconsciously move to Eric sitting leisurely on the sofa opposite of you.

After a round where Jihoon is asked to suck on Haechan’s toe and Yizhuo is told to confess the last person she hooked up with (which was a guy to whose name everyone gasped, but left you clueless, since you didn’t really know who it was), your biggest fears are proven to be reality as the bottle lands on you. Heartbeat instantly picking up at speed, making you hear your own blood in your ears, you look up from the cursed item and wait to hear your ordeal.

Who would’ve thought playing spin the bottle would feel like a near-death experience?

“Truth or dare?” Yizhuo asks.

After a second of consideration, you blurt out: “Dare.”

Big mistake. At least you can lie when you pick the truth, goddamn it. What was drunk you even thinking…?

“Okay,” she nods, contemplating for a bit. As the gears in her head start working and the idea comes into her brain, a smug smirk appears on her face, hinting that this whole evening was a bad, bad idea. “I dare you to sit in the lap of the hottest guy here for three rounds.”

The crowd goes crazy. 

Girls gasp, guys whistle, and your brain– it completely shuts off. Alcohol should logically make you feel more courageous and daring, no? That’s what they all say. 

You’re the one to prove the sentiment wrong as you gulp and contemplate your next decision. Given the fact that you’re one shot away from throwing up, you decide to not drink to protect yourself– making sure you save your image and don’t embarrass yourself by showing the contents of your stomach to everyone on Park Jihoon’s beige rug.

Scanning the circle, you watch the men situated right in front of you in the living room. It resembles window shopping a bit, except you’re feeling really fucking miserable while doing it. You know it’s all fun and games and that if you take the situation with enough nonchalance, everything will turn out fine– hell, some might not even remember this moment in the morning, so it’s really not that big of a deal– but the more you contemplate the object of your dare, the more nervous you’re starting to feel.

Kim Sunwoo is a clear no go. You and Jihoon are close enough where it wouldn’t feel awkward, but somehow, you know you would be lying to yourself if you picked him. Your eyes smoothly drift past Haechan, Jake and Sunghoon, all the way past Renjun and Jeno to Eric sitting right across from you, eyeing you with interest in his dark orbs. 

The circle is starting to rush you. Jihoon nudges your side, telling you to ‘just pick one,’, making you briefly glance at him with a stern look in your eyes. After your gaze lands back on Eric– whose eyebrows slightly furrow when he notices you paying attention to your new friend– you come to a downing realization of the fact that somehow, your eyes keep landing on the short boy, not really wanting to look away.

It’s alright. It’s nothing. Eric Sohn is conventionally attractive– you’re sure it’s not that big of a deal. 

Standing up from your spot, hearing the crowd pick up the excitement, you walk over to the other side of the circle– while trying not to trip over your own foot and fall over in the process. Eric looks up at you with big eyes glimmering, expecting your final answer, making your palms sweat and voice a little shaky as you awkwardly let out.

“Do you mind…?”

The question is laughable, really. You audibly hear Yeji and Yizhuo squeal in excitement at your action, while Haechan hollers out a laugh from the back. Trying to ignore the reactions, faking nonchalance, you watch as Eric shifts slightly in his spot and moves his hands to his sides, as if to make some space for you, before he shrugs. 

“Go ahead.”

Nodding to yourself, you scratch the back of your neck before you turn your back to him and slowly settle yourself onto his lap. 

And here you thought the delivery boy incident could simply not be beaten on the scale of awkward and embarrassing moments with Eric Sohn.

It’s now your turn to spin the bottle, you realize– which you try to focus on instead of the fact that you are currently sitting in the lap of the guy you grew up with– making you bend to the ground and proceed with the game. Only three rounds and you can move back to your initial spot, you think. You just have to survive three rounds of this stupid game before you’re free.

Watching the empty wine bottle spin in circles before it stops, your eyes move to the side with the opening, trying to see who it landed on. When you look up, your roommate is staring back at you with a suspicious look on her face, not even waiting for you to ask the question to determine her fate. “Dare,” she spits out. 

Her eyes bear into you with such intensity you think she’s trying to tell you something, but right as you try to match her brain frequency and decipher what exactly she wants from you right in this moment, you feel Eric’s hands land lightly onto your sides. 

They don’t move, nor do they put any pressure into your skin. They just lay there, fingers on the skin of your bare midriff, sending an electric shock into your brain that completely shuts off your telepathic communication with Izzy, making you blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind.

“Uh… prank call your latest hook up and tell him you want to get together with him,” you say.

She immediately throws darts into your skull, making you regret your decision. 

What? Is it not spicy enough? Judging from the reactions of the rest of the players, you’d say you did a good job– which makes you believe she just didn’t want to expose hooking up with Jaemin in front of everyone.

Nonetheless, she moves on with the dare. You don’t really pay much attention to it as a wave of sickness comes over you. You’re genuinely left seeing things twice, which leads you to close your eyes and rest your head in your hands for a second before a low voice lands into your ear.

“How drunk are you on a scale of 1 to 10?” Eric asks.

“Like… 8, I think?” you snicker. “I’m okay, I just need to–”

Before you get a chance to finish your sentence or even barely think of what would help you in this moment, you feel Eric’s hands on your sides lightly tug your body towards him, leaving you to fully glue your figure onto his. Your back meets his front, sprawling out onto the sofa, leaving you to settle your head onto his shoulder. 

You can’t say your stomach feels less crazy at the moment, but you also can’t say this isn’t strangely nice. “Better?” he asks. 

You think you lost your voice for a second, so you only offer him a nod. 

His next actions leave you wondering if he’s always been this touchy and affectionate. While one of his arms sneaks around your waist and holds you to him, his other palm leaves to take its new place on your thigh. The rational side of your brain is telling you that this is just the most comfortable place to let your arms rest when you have someone sitting in your lap, but it’s still enough to have heat rising up your neck, slowly warming up your face.

A few seconds pass before Eric absent-mindedly starts to draw circles onto your quad, your brain hyper-focused onto the feeling of his forearm on your bare midriff. When he laughs at the way Izzy’s prank call is going– to which he earns a warning look from your roommate to keep quiet and not break the facade– you feel his body vibrating under you, making you realize that you’re the only one out of the two that is so affected by this simple gesture.

It leaves you feeling silly. It must be the alcohol, surely– but god,

Eric Sohn surely has hands that make hell seem cold.

You’re woken up in the morning to the sound of your roommate screaming, yelling at you. Not only do you already have a massive headache from the hangover you surely accidentally threw yourself in, now you also feel like there is someone cutting parts of your brain off with a knife. (Which sounds contradicting, because you do know the brain can’t be in pain. Why does it feel like that, then?)

“You had the perfect opportunity to think of something that could make me and Sunwoo closer. You could’ve said anything! But no, you chose to–”

“Why are you screaming?” you ask, voice hoarse and quiet, your throat scratchy as you utter the few words.

“–lay in Eric’s lap like a princess and do nothing–” she continues, making you wince. It’s not that you don’t remember the moment, no– you do. The memory is almost painfully crystal clear in your brain, you just didn’t really mean to think of it the first thing in the morning.

“Isabelle,” you grit your teeth and put your pillow over your eyes to shield them from the sunlight that is only making your headache worse, “I’m gonna need you to shut. the. fuck. up–”

“You’re a terrible, terrible wingwoman, I’ll tell you that,” she accuses you.

Suddenly, the cause for her telling looks and annoyed huffs throughout the last night make total sense. Hell, you’re smarter than this– you shouldn’t need explaining for such a simple task. It was your turn to dare your best friend to do something, and the object of her desire was right there. You will blame the shortcoming on your alcohol-infused brain– in Izzy’s eyes, though, it doesn’t really change the narrative.

“I’m sorry,” you mourn, “I wasn’t thinking properly.”

“Yeah, I could see that,” she grunts, tugging the pillow off your face. “At this rate, me and Sunwoo are never gonna be a thing, and I hope you know it’s completely your fault.”

“How could it be my fault?” you grunt, suddenly frustrated with your roommate. She is the one that isn’t sending him obvious enough hints, and it’s your fault he isn’t catching on? Why are you suddenly blamed for something that is completely out of your control? This is getting a bit ridiculous.

Wanting to sit up on your bed and fight against your roommate, but failing to do so before she escapes your room– sensing that you would throw the pillow onto her as soon as you’d get the chance– you sigh and reach for your phone sitting on your bedside table. There is a notification shining at the top of your screen, and when you unlock your phone and absent-mindedly click on the message, you’re taken off guard by the view in front of you.

Eric Sohn [1:21 AM]: hi, just checking in to see if you got home okay?

You read the message over once, then twice, before you decide to reply. Clearing your throat, as if you were going to record a voice message, you think of the most appropriate answer. 

If you’re being honest, you don’t really remember much about how you got home last night– all you know is that after three rounds of spin the bottle, you reluctantly climbed off Eric’s lap, to which him and Sunwoo escaped the party and trailed back to work with excuses of Eric’s sister killing them if they didn’t show up soon. You’re fairly certain that you and Izzy just took a cab home, but since you notice you’re still wearing yesterday’s clothes, you assume you weren’t really with yourself at that moment– which is also the sole reason for you not replying to Eric’s message when you first got it.

You [11:10]: hello!! yes we did :) You [11:10]: sorry for replying so late, but as you could see last night i wasnt rlly checking my phone haha..

Surely this is good enough to play it off. Not suspicious at all! Eric Sohn will never know you were drunk off your face and hardly made it through the front door of your apartment. (Except he does know, and you’re also painfully aware.)

And all of this for what..? A bad week at your internship? You’re one of the weak ones, for sure.

Switching apps and deciding to scroll through Instagram for a bit before you get up and face the day– which includes making lunch, because you didn’t have any leftovers left in the fridge– your phone buzzes in your hands, showing you a new message.

Eric Sohn [11:15]: good to hear :) Eric Sohn [11:15]: are u feeling well? 

God. You feel like throwing up– surely the cause of the alcohol still in your system.

 Well, it’s not like he didn’t know before. And you’re a grown woman! There’s no shame in a bit of a hangover. You’re fairly certain he gets them all the time– you two are in university, after all. 

Faking nonchalance, once again, you text back.

You [11:16]: yeah, just a massive headache that’s all :// You [11:16]: im sure lunch will fix it lol

Eric Sohn [11:16]: speaking of… do u wanna get lunch w me? im sure eating out is a better option for u rn haha

Something inside of you panics at the message. You don’t know what it is, but somehow, you always feel a bit awkward with Eric at first. Maybe it’s the fact that you always remember how you grew up together and then vanished out of each other’s lives– without each other even noticing– or maybe it’s the fact that you always feel like you only embarrass yourself in front of him. 

He seems to be casual about things, though. He doesn’t make fun of you for anything– rather, he takes those moments as opportunities to get closer to you and maybe even build back the friendship you were forced into in childhood, but chose in your adulthood. 

There is no reason to overthink his words or actions. It’s Eric, after all.

Eric Sohn [11:17]: me and sunwoo that is, btw. u can bring your roommate if she’s down!:D

Oh. 

Well, at least you have a way to fix things with your butthurt friend. Clearing your throat before calling into the depths of the apartment– because Izzy left your door open, seemingly hinting that it’s time for you to get up and cook lunch– you slowly start getting out of bed.

“Izzy, do you wanna get lunch with Sunwoo, Eric and I?” you ask, a grin slowly appearing on your face. She rewards you with a few seconds of silence– as if trying to tease you– before she gives you the obvious answer. 

“Yeah.”

“Thought so,” you chuckle, sending Eric back a text agreeing to his invitation. 

After a few minutes spent showering and making yourself look presentable, you walk out of the building with your roommate by your side (that’s currently smelling a bit like she just poured the whole perfume bottle over her), nearing the building you decided to meet in over text messages. It’s a small Korean place just down the street, making you wonder if it’s the boy’s favorite, or if he just chose something that was nearby for you out of convenience.

When you open the door and walk into the place, you’re immediately hugged by the smell of delicious food making your stomach churn in hunger and the low music playing in the background. It doesn’t take you long to notice the two boys already sitting at one of the tables, chatting to each other. Sunwoo is very passionate about something, waving his arms around, but the moment you two arrive at the table, their conversation dies down a bit, replaced by warm greetings.

“Wow, you look terrible,” Sunwoo lets out when his eyes meet your figure. The comment makes you shrink in yourself– truth be told, you know you don’t look your best right now, given the fact that your headache was still very much present and you didn’t put any makeup on– but still, it isn’t the best experience to hear someone say it out loud.

“Thanks,” you nod, watching as your roommate eagerly takes a seat next to Sunwoo, her body in respectful, yet close proximity to his, “I feel like it too.”

“Auch–” the said boy lets out, glaring at Eric sitting opposite of him. You’re not really sure what happened, but you don’t pay it much mind as you slowly settle yourself in the last spot possible– next to Eric in the little booth.

“Did you order already?” Izzy asks, clearly more joy and cheerfulness in her body than in yours. You don’t really know how or why she’s not currently dying of a hangover like you are, but something is telling you that maybe, just maybe, you were the only one that took the drinking too far last night. (You and Sim Jake, that is. The poor boy had to run to puke only a few minutes after the game of spin the bottle ended, and it was not a fun sight.)

“No,” Eric shakes his head, “we were waiting for you to get here. Wanna check the menu? We already skimmed through it.”

You nod at his preposition, taking the laminated paper into your hand. You’re always indecisive when it comes to ordering food– never really knowing what to get, because everything is either foreign to you or too appealing, nothing in between, leaving you on the fence about what you’d like to eat at the given moment– and the lengthy list of options in this place isn’t really helping you. 

A sigh escapes your throat at the sight. Truth be told, you’re not even gonna read the whole thing– so you opt to look at Eric to your right with a begging expression on your face.

“Do you know what you’re getting?” you ask, watching him nod.

“Ramen.”

“Is it good?” you inquire, having the boy nod at you casually, replying to your question.

“Pretty good, yeah,” he answers. “Also, I’d argue that it’s the best for a hangover.”

“Perfect. I’ll have that, then,” you note, putting the menu back to its place on the other side of the table, not really wanting to think about it any longer.

When the waiter comes and asks for your order, you notice Eric taking charge and saying your choice as well, ridding you of the burden. Grateful for his initiative, you turn to smile at him in return, before you choose to rest your head in your hands on the table, still not relaxed enough after the long night you had. 

There’s a soothing hand rubbing your back in just a few seconds, pressing comforting circles into the middle of your torso. You think you can’t really blame Sunwoo for making fun of you today– you surely must look like absolute shit.

“Did you two go to the same party?” Sunwoo chuckles, pointing out the obvious difference in your composures. “How come do you not look dead?” he addresses the question to Izzy, curious.

“I can handle my alcohol well,” she hums.

“That’s a lie,” you grunt, eyes still glued to the wooden table, “she just didn’t drink much last night.”

“I think that’s a part of handling my alcohol well–”

“No it’s not,” you squint at her, shaking your head. “Abstinence is not ‘handling alcohol’, you moron.”

“Okay, well, I’m just saying that’s the reason why you look like you have some sort of disease, while I look fresh and beautiful,” she sings in half-seriousness, half-irony, going as far as posing like a flower, offering the whole table her bright smile.

“I mean, you always do,” a low voice echoes around the restaurant, making you snap your head up to gaze at the boy opposite of you that is now refusing to meet anyone’s eye. Eric’s hand freezes on your back, stilling, as a chuckle leaves his throat at his friend’s comment.

Interesting. Sunwoo’s usually cocky demeanor changes as he blushes, scratching the back of his neck. The air gets a little tense as you allow yourself to look your roommate in the eye, a hint of surprise playing with her face. She looks taken aback, but pleased with herself– and you have to give her that. Her magic is finally working.

“So, anyways…” Eric breaks the awkward silence, arm slipping off your back and resting on the table. The absence of the soothing circles on your clothed skin makes you miss it only a little bit, but you won’t really dwell on that any longer or mention it out loud. 

The food comes just in time to diffuse the weird atmosphere, making all of you thank the waiter for the meal and get to eating. You can’t say ramen is your favorite meal on the planet, but you must admit that the way they prepared it here really gets your taste buds on Cloud 9. You’re enjoying every bit of it, salvaging the salty taste and chewing on the noodles, looking like a person that’s been starved for five days with the way you’re just inhaling the food like it’s oxygen.

“Feels nice to finally eat somewhere else than at work,” Sunwoo grunts in pleasure, throwing his head back and letting his eyes close, fully enjoying the moment. 

Eric nods in agreement, having you furrow your brows at them. “You must work a lot.”

“Yeah,” the boy next to you nods, “I do it to help my dad, but the more I work, the more miserable and absolutely boring it gets.”

“I would imagine it to be kind of fun, I dunno,” you hum sheepishly, noticing the boys eyeing you with a deadpan expression on their faces.

“I mean, everything’s better than a corporate job, in my opinion,” Eric throws a jab at you, a smirk playing with his lips. He’s not wrong.

“Don’t even remind me…”

“Still no progress on that thing?” he asks, genuine interest lacing his tone.

Shaking your head, you sigh. “I mean, I did a bit of market research, but nothing to show my boss, that’s for sure. It’s just been rotting my brain for weeks and I feel like I’m frozen with stress that I can’t actually pick it up, y’know?”

Eric nods in acknowledgement, swallowing the last bits of food in his mouth. “Maybe you just need to think about it less.”

“Yeah,” Izzy joins, “take off some steam. Maybe you just need a little break from it.”

“But if I take a break from it, I might never actually start it–”

“That’s ridiculous,” she cuts you off. “You know you work well under pressure.” You sigh at her comment, shaking your head in disapproval. Procrastination isn’t really your favorite thing under the sun, but it’s something you can’t really control during most projects you pick up.  “What do we say we all hang out together when you’re free? To chill, do something fun, get your heads off work…?” 

You look around the table with questioning eyes. You’re not really sure if you crawled across the bridge to the friendship side yet, or if Izzy’s efforts are what is going to do just that. Not really knowing where you stand with the boys– because they did invite you to lunch, but you also hadn’t spoken in a long time before that– you don’t push them for an answer. You’re going to go along with whatever they choose.

“I’m down,” Sunwoo nods, “I bet that if we tell Lisa in advance, she can do the deliveries. There’s a new Deadpool movie coming out next week, wanna go see that?”

You’re not really a fan of Marvel movies nor have you seen the first two parts of the series. The same could be said about Izzy, but she grasps at the invitation like a thirsty woman seeing water after 20 days spent on a desert, nodding eagerly at Sunwoo. It’s almost laughable how easily she agrees to everything the boy has to say. 

You guess you can’t really blame her, though– he is giving her subtle signs of reciprocation with today’s compliment, isn’t he?

You think about it for a while. Looking to your right, facing Eric, you lock eyes with him, as he was already gazing at you and expecting your answer. The boy shrugs at the eye contact, seemingly down to the offer. 

You guess seeing a movie with them isn’t such a bad idea, right?

“Yeah, okay,” you say, “what day is that?”

Foolish. That’s what you are.

Foolish for thinking you could get everything done in time and actually enjoy your time with your friends. Foolish for thinking you could have a day off when you don’t have to think of all the responsibilities that adult life is throwing at you– because as you realize exactly one day before you’re supposed to see the new Deadpool movie in the cinema with Izzy, Sunwoo and Eric, after a discussion with your boss about how he needs some spreadsheets done before the next day, you realize don’t have enough time in your schedule for both.

Frustration, anger and also a bit of sadness fills your bones as you announce to your friends– in person to Izzy and over a text to Eric– that you probably won’t make it. The boy tells you that if you do end up being able to come after all, you should, which makes you only feel worse at the realization that you are now missing out on what could’ve been a chill afternoon.

The frustration only grows in you when you decide to do your work in the library the next day, not even walking back to your apartment after class– because you realize you not only don’t enjoy any minute of your internship, but you also feel like a failure after not being able to finish any simple task with no bigger issues.

After sending one last message to your friends about how you’re stuck in the library for the time being, you try to drown yourself in work– while simultaneously trying to ignore the clock in the corner of your screen telling you the exact minutes you’ve spent missing out on the plans.

You don’t really know how much time passes before a hand lands on your shoulder, making you jump violently in your seat. Your heart starts beating a thousand miles an hour as you turn your head to make out who is the cause of your heart attack, preparing yourself for the screaming match you’re very well mentally ready for.

Up until… you notice who’s standing behind you, offering you a gentle smile.

“Sorry. Did I scare you?” he asks, laughing softly at your shaken composure.

“I almost died, dude!” you scold him, shaking your head at the boy. Something inside of you lights up at the idea of a distraction from your workload, your heart squeezing on itself when you scan your visitor over– from the bottom of his feet cladded in simple Nike pandas to the top of his head covered not only by a beanie, but also the hood of his gray sweater.

“Sorry,” he once again apologizes, eyes glimmering in amusement.

“What are you even doing here?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion and checking the time on your laptop. “The movie starts in a few minutes!”

Out of all the people on the whole entire planet, Eric Sohn is the last person you’d expect to appear in the library exactly at this moment. The sheer presence of him right in front of you makes you blink a few times in hopes of figuring out if his existence is not a fata morgana, watching as the boy only shrugs at you in nonchalance.

“Ah, that…” he hums. “I actually brought you a treat, since you said you will be stuck in the library the whole day,” he says, offering you a bag containing something sweet-smelling.

Once you take a better look at what he’s holding in front of you, your stomach churns and your tastebuds yearn for the sugary dough he must have gotten in the bakery at the corner of the campus on his way here– pink glazing and colorful sprinkles, almost bringing tears into your eyes in appreciation. “What? Why?” you ask. “You didn’t have to…”

“I figured there was no use going to the cinema if you’re not going,” he explains– his words making a nervous little bug fly around your stomach. “Since I’m sure Sunwoo and Izzy wanted to go alone anyways, I didn’t wanna be a third-wheel.” 

Oh. Right. You forgot about that part.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave them alone together, to be honest,” you say, making Eric chuckle at your comment.

“This might either be the best, or the worst thing on the whole entire planet.”

“Agreed,” you nod.

Eric sends you a prolonged look in which you realize you haven’t accepted his offering yet, making you reach for the bag containing the donut and placing it onto the table, right next to your laptop. “But really, thank you,” you nod, “you didn’t have to. I’m sure you have other things you could be doing…”

“I wanted to make your stay in the library more pleasant,” Eric says, shrugging. His figure is still towering over you– as he’s standing and you’re sitting down– something about the fact making you wish he would take a seat next to you and maybe even stay for a minute. “I imagine it’s gonna be a long day for you…”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “All thanks to my stupid internship and my stupid boss and this stupid assignment…” you ramble, watching as Eric’s lips turn into a soft smile. What he’s smiling at, you’re not really sure– the topic of the conversation is already miserable enough for you without actually doing any of the things you’re complaining about– but you drop it as the boy crouches next to you, putting his arm around your chair.

“What do you need to do?” he asks, interested.

“I just need to finish this spreadsheet,” you hum, “which isn’t that hard, it’s just a lot of tedious work that no one wants to do, so of course it falls on the intern.”

“That’s the beauty of an internship,” Eric jokes.

“Do you even intern?”

“No,” he laughs, shaking his head. “But I’d like to see what it’s like. Want help with that? I can read the numbers out for you so you don’t get lost in all those rows and columns,” he suggests, pointing to the amount of reports waiting at your desk, waiting to be digitized.

“Oh, it’s okay,” you sheepishly say, although touched with the offer. He’s probably only saying it to be nice– but that’s still enough for appreciation to grow in your chest. “You don’t have to stay and do boring things with me just because we were supposed to hang out today. Actually, you should hurry so you can get to the cinema on time–”

In your peripheral vision, you watch as the boy stands up from his crouched position only to pull out a chair from one of the empty seats, placing it next to yours so he has a view of your laptop. Before you get a chance to protest any longer, he’s sat in the seat with one of his legs popped up and resting on the bottom construction of your chair, hands reaching for the papers that you could physically drown in sprawled all over your desk. 

“Don’t be silly. I’d rather do anything else than to watch Sunwoo embarrassingly try to flirt with your friend,” he chuckles. “So, which numbers do you need?”

“Eric, really–”

“These ones?” he persists, not even giving you a chance to protest any longer. 

Eyes meeting– his big and honest, a warm pool of honey– yours a little tired, but still filled with tender appreciation, he waits for you to answer and explain how he can help you. He patiently awaits your instructions, wanting to make your life a bit easier– and something about that makes your heart leap in your chest.

You guess you’d say you and Eric are friends now. Yeah, you definitely are.

“Look, the sooner you’re done, the sooner you can get out of here and get another donut with me on your way home. Because trust me, I thought I could resist, but the more I look at the one I brought you, the more I kinda want one for myself…”

Laughing, you shake your head at his boyish antics. He looks so casual right now– like someone cut out of your everyday life, like someone you’ve known for years and are destined to know forever. 

You show him which row he should read out loud for you. You share the donut with him. It takes a bit longer than you expected and the donut place is closed when he walks with you home, but he assures you it’s okay– you can get one another time.

“Five iced americanos, two lattes, one iced tea– do you want anything?” Jihoon turns to you with raised eyebrows, getting a look of your sulking face.

“No,” you bite back, anger getting the worst out of you. 

“Okay, so we’ll also add another americano and a flat white, please,” your coworker slash friend turns back towards the barista, smiling at him and paying with the corporate card.

After the two of you move into the line waiting for drinks, you continue on with your little tangent. 

“So they think they can make me do all the dirty work, leave me with no time to do anything and announce tasks at the last second, only to be bitchy and don’t even say thank you when I do everything they tell me to?” you snap, scowling at Jihoon. “And then they decide that oh, maybe I’m not good enough to do all those fucking spreadsheets for them, so I am demoted to a coffee runner?!” you yell out, having the heads of the rest of the customers turn to you with annoyed and concerned looks on their faces.

“Okay, so we are going to calm down–” 

“I don’t wanna calm down!”

Jihoon laughs at your little outburst– which only makes you more frustrated– before he puts a finger against your lips to silent you, an amused expression taking over his face. “Don’t scream when we are inside, at least.”

After his finger leaves your lips, you are left staring at him with a sharp look– like a child that is mad because it didn’t get a new toy it liked in the store. You acknowledge that you might be acting a bit overly-dramatic at the moment, but you also still think your feelings and thoughts are justified. 

You hate the corporate lifestyle. You despise how you have to be a stuck-up to climb it, and how hard work never truly gets you anywhere if you don’t have connections.

Which is why Liu Yangyang is currently helping your boss with all major tasks, getting the experience he truly needs for his degree, while you and Jihoon were sent to get coffee for the whole office. Amazing, isn’t it? The way you can feel so looked down upon, even though you’re aware this is the place you’re supposed to be in, this is how you’re supposed to be treated.

You’re just an intern, nothing else. But sometimes, the uneven weight of responsibilities you get at work makes you stressed and nervous that one day, you’ll have too much on your shoulders to bear while all the other time, you aren’t even worthy of a normal task.

“I hope each and every one of them burns their tongue on that fucking coffee,” you grunt, making Jihoon only laugh harder.

“At least half of them ordered iced americanos, babe.”

A sigh escapes your throat at that. “Okay, so I hope they all spill the drink onto them,” you refute, making Jihoon grin.

“You’re so petty,” he points out as he stands close to you, suddenly deciding to use you as his own personal armrest. “Besides, I think you should appreciate that you don’t have to do a lot today, don’t you think? It’s nice to get a breather. I know I wouldn’t wanna be in Yangyang’s shoes right now.”

“I guess so,” you sigh, looking up to meet the tall boy’s eyes. “But it makes me feel like they don’t think we’re good enough for anything else.”

“And if that’s my crime, then so be it,” he playfully shrugs. “At least I’ll have the experience on my CV and I can graduate.”

“I’d love to have your mindset,” you muse.

“It’s quite easy, actually,” he nods. “You should get it into that pretty brain of yours,” he says as one of his fingers points to the side of your skull, making you scrunch your nose at him and try to avert the contact. 

Jihoon is persistent, though, as he suddenly makes it his quest to ruffle your hair to tease you and make it all disheveled. The two of you get into a play-fight of some sort, consisting of you trying to wrestle the boy off and him trying to make your life a living hell in any way he can, when he abruptly stops and raises his eyebrows at someone behind you, offering them a wave.

“Yo, dude! Hi!” he greets, making you turn your head to see who he is addressing.

There, standing just a few meters in front of you in the line, is Eric Sohn wearing cargo pants and a loose shirt, earphones hanging around the base of his neck. After being greeted by your friend, he moves closer to the two of you, smiling.

“Hi!” he says, paying both of you an up-and-down scan. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” Jihoon replies for the both of you, settling to his previous position of resting half his body-weight against your shoulder. You’ve grown used to his nature– playful and friendly, much like an older brother would act– so you don’t really mind the casual touch and teasing from him. “We were sent here to get coffee for the whole building, so we’re just doing that while Y/N here complains about everything–”

“I don’t complain about everything, just the systematic oppression of interns in the workplace–”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Jihoon cuts you off, snickering. “What about you?”

Eric watches the two of you bickering with furrowed brows before he clears his throat, shrugging. “On my way to class,” he says, “I’m late already, so I figured a few more minutes while I get my coffee won’t hurt me in the long run.”

“Very responsible of you,” you joke, watching as the boy in front of you laughs, paying you a short look.

“Look, I don’t have any big responsibilities like the two of you do, so…”

“Y/N, on the contrary, doesn’t think getting coffee for the corporate people is enough of a responsibility,” Jihoon chimes in, making Eric’s eyes shift towards the taller boy, sending him a look slightly different to the one he gives you.

“She just doesn’t really know how to chill out,” Eric nods. 

“Hello?” you snicker. “I’m literally right here.”

The shorter one looks at you with glimmering eyes, shrugging. “It’s something you have to hear,” he notes. “Truth hurts, but it’s better than lying to yourself.”

Just after that, an order is called that makes Eric’s attention perk up, turning around to the barista. “I think that’s me,” he says, taking a step back towards the counter to retrieve his coffee. “I better get going, but it was nice seeing you two,” he nods.

“Us two…” Jihoon whispers next to you, making you look at him with furrowed brows, confused.

“It was nice seeing you too!” you nod instead, smiling.

“I’ll see you around!” Eric says. Before he completely disappears to the top of the line and out of the coffee shop, he turns to you one more time. “Oh and Y/N, we should hang out again sometime… Text me?”

“Oh, sure,” you agree, your stomach fueled with a strange kind of sensation at his words. You know you should’ve had breakfast in the morning– surely it’s just you being hungry. “I’ll- I’ll text you.”

Only after Jihoon waves at him, finally ridding you off the burden of being his personal armrest, do you realize how hot you feel in your cheeks and how you’ve spent the last couple of seconds carefully, intensively watching Eric get his coffee and step out of the building. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, the atmosphere suddenly too quiet to the one there was between the two of you before Eric Sohn arrived, you feel Jihoon elbow you in your side.

“So,” he starts, already hinting that this is going to be a difficult conversation, “what’s up with you and Sohn?”

“Hm?” you snap your head around to face him, almost breaking your neck with the force. “What do you mean, what’s up with me and Eric? There’s nothing up between the two of us.”

“Sure… and he wasn’t staring at me like he wanted to personally kill me with his own two hands just now, correct?” he teases, making you stop in your tracks.

Was Eric looking at him like that? You didn’t even notice.

“Correct,” you agree. “I don’t really think he was…”

“And my name is not Jihoon–”

“Stop being so difficult to talk to all the time, dear god–”

“Okay, miss ‘I find Eric Sohn to be the hottest one in the world’–”

“When have I ever said that?!” you call out again, suddenly feeling a little too hot in your cheeks, ears, and the back of your neck. What’s up with this visceral reaction? You swear you were nonchalant about these things!

“Oh, sorry, let me correct myself. It was the hottest one in the room, actually, but I think that speaks for itself, since Lee Heeseung himself was present–”

“Are you jealous, or something?” you choose to counter attack, leaving Jihoon to laugh at you in amusement.

“As if,” he shakes his head at you. “I just think it’s cute how whenever I see you two interact, he acts like a lost puppy following you and you’re too oblivious to do anything about it.”

“No, he doesn’t,” you furrow your brows at him, the words not even fully registering in your brain. What does he even mean by all of this? You and Eric are friends– that’s all there is to it.

“Sure… stay being like that and end up a bitchless loser forever, then,” he shrugs. You’d react more to his pointless arguments– because let’s be real, he is just making all of this up to stir some drama– but your awfully long order is called right in the moment you open your mouth to come up with a clever comeback, and so you choose to drop the topic, because it’s quite meaningless in your eyes anyway.

Walking back with two cup holders in your hands, fulfilling your one and only task of the day, you turn to Jihoon with a teasing grin. “Wait, did you just call Lee Heeseung sexy?”

“It was purely objective–”

“I really hate this, y’know?” you mutter as you stand in front of the gates of the amusement park, your cheerful roommate standing by your side bouncing on her feet as she waits in excitement.

“Shut up,” she says, a smile never leaving her face despite your gloomy expression, “don’t ruin this for me.”

“Well, it’s either you or me that is going to have their day ruined, and I think that judging by the fact that I’m already here, we know which one is going to turn true,” you say as you aimlessly look around, watching people going in and out of the premises of the park, some with goofy headbands on, some holding balloons– all of them sickly in love.

“It’s not like I invited you to a funeral, y’know,” Izzy grunts, “you could just act happy for me. It wouldn’t hurt you, y’know–”

“I would act happy for you if you didn’t feel the need to drag me to your dates with you–”

“Stop being such a party popper, dude. You’re going to have fun if you just allow yourself to,” she rolls her eyes at you. Yeah, she might be right about some parts of her argument– you got free tickets to the amusement park, which you love, just for the record– and you also have a day off from your internship and classes, which makes any day basically the best day on earth for you, but there is one thing about this whole situation that is making you doubt it just the tiniest bit.

That being the fact that you’re tagging along to a date. And you’re not alone in it– which automatically makes this whole thing seem a little too similar to a double date.

“I just don’t want him to think I see this as a–”

Your argument is quickly shut off as your roommate physically squeals into your ear before running off, feet automatically taking her to her sweetheart. Sunwoo is quick to catch her in his arms when she jumps into his hold, excited to see him despite hanging out with him two days ago, and you’re left walking slowly to the two approaching figures alone.

The moment you see Eric Sohn wearing tan cargo pants and a red windbreaker over his figure, your throat goes dry. His eyes light up a bit when they land on you, which makes the reality of not being able to run away anymore settle deep inside of your bones, and suddenly, you feel strangely nervous in his vicinity. 

This hasn’t happened to you yet around him– if you don’t count all the moments where you embarrassed yourself in front of him, feeling painfully awkward. However, the fact that this whole situation is too similar to a double date is making you feel slightly weak in your knees simply because of the fact that you don’t want Eric to think you want this to be a double date. You only went because Izzy promised to wash the dishes for you for two weeks if you did, and that’s an offer nobody should turn down, you think.

The idea of Eric Sohn thinking you want to go on a double date with him makes you feel agonizingly embarrassed. You two are just friends– nothing more, nothing less– and you wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea. You would never think of yourself as someone Eric would invite over for a date in the first place anyway– you don’t want him to have a feeling that you suddenly have high thoughts about yourself.

“Y/N! Hi!” Your thoughts are quickly cut off when you hear the boy himself greet you cheerfully, walking up to you to envelope you in a short hug. 

His arms sneak around you only for a moment, but you feel yourself automatically reciprocating the gesture before it even has a chance to register in your brain. You don’t really know when the two of you passed to the level of friendship where you greet each other with a hug– maybe the few text messages you shared since you last saw him in the coffee shop might have done the work– but you try to not question it when he pulls away, leaving you awkwardly standing around and watching Sunwoo and your roommate gaze romantically into each other’s eyes.

“Today’s gonna be tough,” Eric notes.

Chuckling at his words, knowing he’s referring to the honeymoon stage your friends have somehow ended up in– because you still can’t believe Izzy managed to date the boy after her embarrassing attempts– you just shake your head and move towards the entrance of the amusement park, not really wanting to pay any more attention to the couple than you have to.

“It is,” you agree, “I wouldn’t have agreed to go for this exact reason, but the idea of rides persuaded me,” you hum.

“I only went because this was the only way I could get a day off at work,” Eric mutters, “my stupid sister insisted I come with Sunwoo or else she wouldn’t cover my shift.”

“That’s strange,” you chuckle, furrowing your eyebrows at him. “Why would she care?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs, “said something about ‘enjoying my youth’, or something,” he grins. “I don’t really even like amusement parks, if I’m being honest.”

“You don’t?” you gasp, shaking your head at the boy. “Damn. I would think you’re an adrenaline junkie, if I’m being honest.”

“I am!” he agrees, nodding. “The other day, though, I saw a Tiktok about a ride breaking down somewhere in Japan, and that was the same day Sunwoo invited me here, so I think it might’ve been a sign from the universe to not go on any of these rides, or else I will die.”

Laughing at his words, shaking your head, you lightly slap his arm at the comment. “Don’t say that,” you tell him, “you’re just being a scaredy cat, admit it.”

“No…” he suspiciously shakes his head, very obviously lying.

“Yeah, right…” you snicker. “I mean, it’s okay, dude. I won’t laugh.”

“You’re already laughing, though?” Eric points out, an accusing finger in your face. His actions make you burst into even bigger giggles, eyes meeting his. When your gaze lands onto his face– the upper half shielded by the shade casted off his cap, yet still having his eyes crinkled up and cheeks full as he grins at you wide and warm in the sunlight– your stomach does that weird thing again, completely ruining the moment.

Clearing your throat, trying to keep your composure, you turn your head to search for Izzy and Sunwoo. The moment you catch them in makes your eyes go big and a grunt leave your throat involuntarily– the PDA making you even sicker to your stomach. While Sunwoo is standing in front of your roommate, his arms securely around her middle, she is gazing up into his eyes with a pout decorating her lips. The boy holds her cheeks in his hands for a brief moment before he leans in and gives her a short kiss that makes the girl stand up on her tippy toes, chasing for another one.

“Oh wow,” you let out, making Eric sigh next to you at the sight.

“Now that’s…”

“Yeah,” you nod while you turn back forward, trying your hardest to not look at the two of them any longer than you physically have to. “I knew they would be like that if they started dating. It’s like my worst nightmares came true.”

“Sunwoo can’t stop talking about her either. I’m starting to think I will know more about your roommate than you do, at this rate.”

“You might,” you agree, laughing to yourself. “With how many nights she’s spent at his place, I’m starting to think she’s going to move out soon.”

“Well, that’s only good for you then, no?” 

“Yeah,” you agree, joking. “The only reason why I still keep her around is to pay half the rent, if I’m being honest,” you chuckle, having the boy shake his head at your playful antics.

The two of you move forwards slowly while looking around the place, trying to see what you should do. The sun is strangely aggressive today, making it hard for you to see as you squint in the brightness– since the amusement park doesn’t really provide you with much shade– only making you a bit more frustrated with your choice of plans today.

“Should we get some drinks first?” Eric asks, pointing towards a stand that sells coffee, milkshakes and other beverages.

The line is long, but you don’t really see a reason not to wait. You have the whole day in front of you, after all, and since it seems to you that Sunwoo and Izzy have taken it upon themselves to ignore you two completely, acting like this was their own date, you choose to stick to whatever Eric wants to do. 

As you move to stand next to him– while also moving out of someone’s way– the back of your hand comes in contact with the boy’s next to you, having a slight wave of electricity run through your spine as you clear your throat and move away from him, wishing he didn’t notice. You take it upon yourself to look around to see what your next choice of plan should be.

After ignoring many couples walking around– since it seems that you chose a day when no other visitors were around, just teenagers holding hands and kissing in front of the rides (much like your friends are doing right now)– you opt to point your eyes at the horizon, looking at the tall constructions and rides. You have to shield your eyes from the sun with your hand to really see them, but the sight of them excites you a bit, so you guess it’s worth it. Squinting at the Pirate ride or the big rollercoaster twisting and turning like a caterpillar in the distance, you make a mental note of all the attractions you want to visit today.

Slowly moving to the top of the line to get coffee with Eric, you continue gazing behind him, blissfully unaware that he’s been watching you the whole time, noticing your little struggle. 

“After we get the coffee, I wanna go on that roller coaster there,” you hum, “and I’m bringing you with me, because Sunwoo and Izzy–”

Your words get caught in your throat as the man suddenly moves the hand you’ve been resting against your eyebrows to shield your eyes from the sunlight down, replacing it by taking his cap off and making you wear it. Your heart jumps at the action, eyes finally relaxing now that they’re in shade, making you gulp and stare at Eric.

“You don’t have to–”

“I have my sunglasses with me, so it’s fine,” he says, tugging the peak further down your head in a teasing way, a smile adorning his face.

You forgot what you were even saying in the first place– the idea of Eric’s hat on your head making your brain overheat a little with the added fabric on top of your hair. It’s the same cap you see on him often– his favorite one, you think– and your stupid, silly brian is starting to make connotations around the action that you’re sure are not correct.

You can’t say you’re not happy about wearing it, though. It does help your eyes.

“You were saying?” he asks, making you look back at him with big eyes, trying to think of what you were talking about before.

“Oh,” you hum, while also simultaneously reaching to fix his hair– since he hasn’t bothered to after taking off his hat for you– not even thinking about your actions as you run your fingers through the honey strands, “I was just saying you’re gonna have to go on some rides with me, because the lovebirds are ignoring us and I am not going alone,” you repeat.

When you’re done moving the blonde locks to their supposed place, eyes drifting back to Eric’s– now big and watching your every move, making you falter a little under his gaze and heat creep onto your cheeks– it’s his turn to clear his throat, shrugging.

“You’ll have to hold my hand when I get scared, though,” he says. The casualty of his tone shocks you, having you watch as the boy averts his gaze from you and presses his lips together into a thin line, not even paying a second thought to the implications of his words.

You pay them a second thought, though.

You keep repeating the words in your brain over and over, fingertips buzzing at the preposition, hands sweating at the mental image. Do you mind the thought of it?

Well, no. You don’t.

Not a big deal, after all…

“What did you want again? Flat white?” he asks, completely ignoring the previous conversation. You didn’t even realize you got to the top of the line, too deep in your thoughts, and before you have a chance to take out your wallet to pay for your drink (or maybe even Eric’s, since he paid the last time), he is holding the cup up to you already.

As you take it from him, your fingers touch again. It makes a warm pool of honey glisten in the pit of your stomach, foolishness creeping up your bones.

The boy takes it upon himself to shock you even further as he swings an arm around your shoulders, tugging you close to him. “Let’s go back to the lovebirds before they forget about our existence completely.”

You choose to ignore the fact that you forgot about their existence yourself.

When you get on the ride a few minutes later, Eric holds onto your hand. Your heart beats a thousand miles an hour, but you will write it off to the adrenaline– you do, however, foolishly wish he was scared more often. 

Turns out having Park Jihoon as your coworker isn’t as bad as it seems. Sure, he is good at making the atmosphere lighter in the office and also amazing at gossip in the workplace, but he is also surprisingly very good at his job– and with the date of your presentation fastly approaching, you had to get all the help you needed. 

Which is why you made the boy sit with you in the park as you went over it again and again, showing him your laptop and rehearsing your speech, taking notes of every little thing Jihoon said you should fix or add into the whole thing. You genuinely appreciate what he’s doing for you, which is why you also remind yourself to get him something after the internship is done– but after at least two hours of working on your laptop with him, he gets tired and his attention span seems to get shorter and shorter– and you don’t really blame him. 

Actually, you welcome the distractions he offers with open hands. Even more so, you add on to them and fuel them with more conversation, the laptop opened on your thighs long forgotten as you search through your gallery and show the phone screen to your friend, talking about the cute pillows you found at the store last week.

“See? They’re like… sea foam green, but Izzy says they wouldn’t go with our couch,” you hum, furrowing your brows at him, trying to see a different opinion on your newest choice of furniture for the already overcrowded flat.

“What color is your couch again?” he asks as you keep swiping, showing him all the angles of the pillows.

“Brown.”

“Oh, hell no,” Jihoon shakes his head, “that’s a Perry the platypus type of combo, I’m with Izzy on this one– oop, that doesn’t look like the pillows anymore–”

Swiftly turning the phone towards you again, worried of what picture you accidentally revealed to him (while you don’t have any nudes on your phone, you’re sure any selfie would be just as much embarrassing), you’re left with heat rising to your cheeks and shame drowning your system. 

“Well, anyways, so the pillows–”

“We’re not talking about the pillows anymore, girl–”

“We are–”

“No,” he keeps interrupting you, making you grunt and sigh as you rest your head against the trunk of the tree behind you, banging it against it in frustration.

“Shut up,” you mutter. The thing is, you know you won’t escape the teasing now– because Park Jihoon watching you swipe through your gallery to a high-angle selfie of Eric Sohn in his work uniform, pouting, is surely a very incriminating image. “We text on Whatsapp and he sent the pic, so it automatically saved–”

“And you just never deleted it, naturally,” Jihoon hums with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“I forgot–”

“You just didn’t want to–”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” you sigh again, locking your phone and throwing it into the grass. 

You and Eric have grown close since the day you spent together in the amusement park. So much to the point where you get lunch together sometimes and he sends you selfies when he’s bored at work, it seems. You don’t mind the subtle shift– hell, you welcome it with open arms– you just wish Park Jihoon (and Izzy, at this point) would stop teasing you about something that was not even vaguely true.

There is nothing going on between you and Eric Sohn.

And nothing ever will be– not a chance.

“I think the denial is being a little embarrassing now,” Jihoon chirps, making you swat his shoulder. You are not in denial– there is nothing to deny.

“You are being a little embarrassing.”

“You know I’m right,” Jihoon shrugs, grinning. Does he not have enough drama in his own life to stick his nose into yours? Not that there is any drama between you and Eric– but you bet Park Jihoon would love to create some.

“You’re never right.”

“Sure,” Jihoon hums. “I’ll mention this on your wedding speech–”

“I’ll kill you before I get married,” you grunt.

“But you didn’t deny the identity of the groom–”

Launching at the boy again, a threatening fist almost landing to his cheek, you watch as he wrestles you away with a loud laugh resonating through the space. Something about how lightly he takes the situation makes your stomach churn in an unknown emotion– you really don’t see why everyone thinks there should be something going on between you and your childhood friend.

“Look, all I’m saying is that if you want this to be a thing, maybe you should finally make a move, since the guy seems to be dull as fuck–”

Interrupting, never letting him finish a sentence when it comes to this topic, you try to finally prove your point. “I don’t want this to be a thing. I don’t even know what you’re talking–”

“I should go before I’m killed,” Jihoon suddenly hurries out, making you furrow your brows at him.

“What?”

“See you on Monday!” the tall male waves, scattering to his feet. He doesn’t give you much explanation as he runs off to the other side of the campus, making you watch him with confused eyes. Where has he gone so quickly? He doesn’t want to be killed? 

By whom? Should you be afraid? Should you run as well?

Somebody clears his throat next to you, making you jump as you turn your head to see who is disrupting your peace. The moment your eyes meet the intruder, Jihoon’s comment finally settles in– god, you’ll kill him when you see him again.

“Eric! What are you doing here?” you ask, watching as the boy shrugs, taking a seat next to you on the grass.

“Just got off work,” he says, “and you said you’ll be here, so I thought I’d come and say hi,” he hums, yawning and stretching his arms above his head.

The sentiment makes you mentally coo– the emotion going as far as reaching your face in a form of a gentle pout– as you dwell deeper over his words. You didn’t think that complaining about how you have to do work would make Eric think of visiting you after finishing his own, but something about it makes you all warm from the inside.

“You didn’t have to,” you hum. “You seem tired.”

A gentle smile is sent your way, so illuminizing it makes you look away. “I know, but I wanted to,” he says, “I also brought you leftovers, if you want some. It’s almost dinner time.”

An involuntary gasp leaves your throat as you watch the male take out an aluminum wrap from his backpack and offer it to you alongside his bright grin. You waste no time in taking the pizza slices into your hand and carefully unwrapping them, allured by the smell.

“Why did Jihoon run so fast, by the way?” Eric asks, laughing.

“Oh, he said he was late for something…” you hum. (You’re not even convinced of your own excuse. You don’t know how Eric doesn’t see right through your lies.)

“Ah,” the boy nods in acknowledgement, scooping closer to you so his back is now resting against the tree, his eyes gluing themselves onto your laptop screen. His piney smell fills your nose, making your stomach feel like it’s on water, before his soft, tired voice lands into your ear. “Did you make a lot of progress?”

“Mhm,” you nod, clicking through the slides and showing him. The boy makes an acknowledging sound after each new information you tell him– something that makes you find him immensely endearing– as you simultaneously reach for the pizza and mindlessly offer the slice you’ve already bitten into to him, watching as his straight teeth chew down into the dough, sharing one piece with you.

“Are you done for the day? I’ll walk you home,” he says, tiredness completely seeping through his tone now. You can tell he needs sleep– which makes you feel slightly bad about making him take a detour just to meet you.

“Almost,” you hum apologetically, closing your laptop. “I just need to read a few more articles Jihoon recommended for me and then I should be done,” you say, reaching for your iPad as you put your computer away into your bag. 

“Okay,” he nods.

“You can go home, Eric,” you say, “you don’t have to stay for me.”

“No, it’s fine,” he shakes his head, smiling at you. 

Watching him, eyes meeting for a heartbeat, you see that he won’t budge no matter how harshly you’d tell him to go– so you figure that quickly getting through the articles and going home is your safest bet in this situation. Tapping on the screen and finding the email Jihoon forwarded to you, you open the first link in the message, subconsciously registering as the boy next to you gets comfortable sitting in the grass with you.

You only get through half of the (lengthy) article before you see Eric’s head lolling forwards, sleep taking over him. The motion wakes him, but not for long as he just can’t keep his eyes open anymore– the combination of a long shift, classes in the morning and finishing up his assignments late in the night getting the worst out of him and making you feel immensely bad for the boy. Not focused on the words in the article anymore, you watch as your friend scooches further down in the grass, acting on instinct as his head suddenly rests against your shoulder, soft hair tickling the side of your neck. 

Heart leaping in your chest and whole body freezing– begging the universe to not make the boy wake up from his half-asleep state right now– you try your hardest to pay attention to the business tactics described in the article you’ve been reading for the last couple of minutes. It seems to be the hardest task you’ve ever set your mind on, though, as you notice the screen of your tablet getting dark, mirroring Eric’s relaxed face.

His neck is craned and his eyes are closed shut, making you turn your head to watch the sight first-hand, mentally counting all the eyelashes kissing his cheekbones and his puffed-out lips. Something about his pose doesn’t seem the tiniest bit comfortable, though– although it makes a strange wave of satisfaction run through your veins– and so, like any other decent person, you gently cradle your fingers through his hair, waking him up.

“Hmm?” 

“Your neck is gonna be sore,” you quietly say as you put your arm around his shoulder, “just lay down, yeah?” you say, doing your best at adjusting his position.

The male lets you navigate him with half-lidded eyes as you make him scooch even further down into the grass before you pull his upper body towards your lower half, essentially making the boy lay his head into your lap. Eric looks up at you from his new position for just a few seconds, eye contact reminding you of a small, shy puppy you just brought home from the road, making you smile softly and treat him as one when you instinctively reach out and pet his head, running your fingers through his soft strands and gently scratching his scalp.

After a few seconds, the male closes his eyes again, seemingly drifting off into the dreamland. Your actions soothe him and simultaneously bring you into some sort of trance you can’t bring yourself out of– eyes glued to his face, studying it.

The angle of his nose and the slope of his upper lip is much more enjoyable to study and memorize than the sales statistics of your job’s concurrency. You find his long eyelashes to be nothing far from angelic, his light hair like a crown of gold under your touch. Everything about him is soft and gentle in this state– with the golden hour shining down onto his features, making his skin glisten like honey– the view so pretty you’d like to take a picture to remember it forever.

Your head spins and your stomach does that weird thing again. This is not the first time you are acknowledging Eric’s attractiveness– just the first time you are appreciating his beauty, his prettiness to the point where you are enchanted by it, not able to tear your attention away. You can’t deny the fact that it affects you anymore.

You can’t deny the fact you feel around him lately. It makes you feel strange and embarrassed, but not to the point where you’d want to keep away from him.

Your iPad is thrown next to you on the grass, forgotten and abandoned. You’re jealous of the sun– for it’s able to kiss his cheeks without fear, without judgment– the boy turning into a putty under your touch, subconsciously leaning into it when you drag his light bangs away from his forehead. 

You admit the fact that you stopped working on your project the moment he arrived, not able to put your attention elsewhere than to his presence. You’re also aware he’d sleep better and more comfortably in his own bed, but for some reason, you selfishly want to keep him there– looking like a painting, something akin to a poem you wish you wrote.

Just for the moment, you let the reality down on you– that maybe Park Jihoon was right and there is no use denying the obvious anymore. Just for the moment, you let the feeling consume you, eat you alive. For now, though, the boy in your lap is all yours to admire. Blissfully unaware and painfully beautiful, soft and gentle all around.

The feeling inside of you is too raw, too real and so much different to anything you’ve ever known before.

When you’re satisfied with the dose of skinship, you wake the boy up and let him walk you home. You pretend for a moment the feeling is reciprocated and not left scared and lonely out in the open as Eric helps you carry your stuff for you and pulls you into a bear hug in front of your doorstep. You don’t tell him that you had the scariest realization while he was soundly asleep in your arms– it’s too scary and too real and you’re not ready to get your heart broken just yet. 

You pretend everything’s like before. Normal. 

You convince yourself that it will pass.

Once you enter the place, you’re instantly surrounded by the sound of people talking amongst each other, forks and glasses being put down, resonating through the whole place, the phone ringing somewhere in the distance, and a cold shot of liquid coming in contact with your stomach, making you gasp out in surprise.

“Oh shit!” Sunwoo grunts as he registers the mess he just caused, looking up at you with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry!”

Noticing the rush everywhere in the pizzeria and the amount of customers he has to take care of, you can’t really blame him for not watching where he’s going. Still, your face slowly morphs into a subtle frown at the realization that there is now a dark stain on your favorite white T-shirt, your outfit for the evening ruined– meaning half of your confidence disappeared just as fast as the Coca-Cola did from the glass Sunwoo has been holding. 

“It’s okay,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It’s nothing–”

“I’ll get you a towel! I’ll be right back,” the boy urgently says as he makes you hold the half-empty glass of the beverage he just spilled all over you, making you shrug and question if you should just drink the rest of it as a price of consolation.

“Dude, this place is packed,” Izzy grunts from next to you, “can’t even blame him for being all over the place, at this point.”

“Yeah,” you absent-mindledly nod, eyes searching in the crowd to find the figure you came here for in the first place. Not that you only want his presence, no– it’s just that Eric was the one who invited you to the festival your university is throwing as a celebration of the end of the semester. Supposedly, he knows the guy that’s playing in the band that’s headlining it, and even though you tried to refute his arguments and invitations with the fact that you have nothing to be celebrating just yet– the final season is surely going to kick your butt and the presentation for your internship is in just two days, which means you should be preparing for it really hard right in this moment, but his pleading voice in your speaker as you talked to him on the phone on your way home from class was strong enough to convince you that maybe you do need some time to wind off before the responsibilities sweep you off your feet again.

Once you find the boy himself walking away from one of the tables in the corner, his eyes find yours– as if knowing you’ve been looking for him, sensing your presence. His face is outstretched into a smile as he practically skips towards you and Izzy, but the grin leaves his features swiftly once he notices the ugly stain on your shirt.

“Damn, what happened?” he asks.

“Sunwoo spilled a drink over me,” you shrug, watching as his coworker rolls his eyes in frustration at the new information. You laugh at his fakely mad expression, shaking your head at him. “It’s fine, he was in a rush.”

“Yeah, we’re kinda behind, so I don’t know if–”

“No, it’s fine!” you hear a female voice call out, making you snap your head towards the direction of the counter behind you, noticing the presence of Lisa, Eric’s older sister. Her face is adorned with a wide grin that gets a teasing hint when her brother sends her a questioning look, making you watch the interaction with interest. “You said you’re leaving at 7, so you’re leaving at 7. I told dad my friends are coming up to help today, so you just go and enjoy your time out!”

“Really?” Eric asks, tone full of disbelief. You think he spends more time at the restaurant than he does in his own bedroom, and suddenly, you’re happy his sister is being so kind towards the poor boy.

“Yeah! You have more important business to take care of anyway, so…” Lisa says, wiggling her eyebrows at Eric. The boy sends her a look full of fear– which might be justified, since you don’t really know what’s going on at the moment– before he clears his throat and turns his attention back towards you.

“Anyways…” he starts, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “You can change into my shirt, if you want…? I have a spare one in the back in a case of emergency, and this surely looks like one, so–”

“Oh, it’s okay, you don’t have to–”

“I mean, the stain is pretty noticeable, so I was just–” he says. 

“It’s fine, Eric, I’ll just wash it in the sink, or something.”

“Or you can take my shirt that does not have a stain on it. I swear it doesn’t smell, I only wore it once! I’ll wear the one I forgot in my locker the other day,” he says, looking at you with wide, expecting eyes. Your heart does a flip in your ribcage.

You have to mentally restrain yourself from freaking out over this. He’s just being nice. He’s offering you his shirt because he probably knows that you want to look good– he is offering you his shirt because he knows the stain on yours is bothering you and that it wouldn’t come out as easily in the sink if you don’t wash the shirt properly with laundry detergent that you don’t have on hand right now– and when you weight all the positives and negatives of the offer (which you find far less pros than cons in, just for the record), you realize you don’t really have a reason to decline his offer.

“I mean, if you’re sure…”

The boy only nods, gently takeing you by your forearm as he leads you towards the back. You’ve never been there before and you also don’t really know where Izzy disappeared to, but you stop worrying about those the same moment Eric opens his locker and hands you his black shirt, a tight-lipped smile adorning his features.

“I’ll give you some privacy.”

“Thanks,” you nod. You wait for the door to close before you quickly drag your sticky T-shirt over your head and discard it off your chest, glad you’re ridded of the nasty feeling of it against your skin, fastly putting on the soft material that Eric draped onto your hold before on your upper body. 

The smell of his cologne instantly hits you in the face stronger than a baseball ever could, making your head spin and your stomach feel like it’s floating in the middle of the sea. Taking a quick look at yourself in the mirror on the wall next to you, you admire the way the garment fits you just well– since the height difference between you and Eric is barely existent. It makes you wonder if you could share wardrobes– the mental image of him in your favorite oversized graphic T-shirts making a foolish smile creep onto your cheeks, one that you forcefully wipe off the second you see it in the mirror. You smooth down the fabric before you tuck one side into the waistband of your jeans, satisfied with your new outfit. 

Giddy, you walk out of the storage room. It takes you a few moments to find your group of friends standing next to the counter, chatting. You notice that Sunwoo has already changed out of his work uniform into his regular clothes– a black band tee and camo cargo pants– one arm around Izzy’s shoulders.

“Ready?” your roommate asks, watching you nod.

“I’ll just go change and then we can go,” Eric says, swiftly turning on his heel and disappearing into the room you just came out of.

Izzy and Sunwoo talk amongst each other before they turn to you, finally deciding to include you in their conversation. “Excited for tonight? Eric said you need to destress,” Sunwoo raises his eyebrows at you, making you shrug.

“I guess,” you hum, “I think I practiced my presentation so many times I could recite it in my sleep now, but it also strangely feels like I don’t know it enough, y’know?” you say, shaking your head. “It’s driving me crazy.”

“I just think you need to take your mind off things, babe,” Izzy chirps, sending you a comforting smile. “You worked hard enough.”

“Well, we will find out soon if it really was enough,” you snicker, making your roommate glare at you with disapproval. Before she has a chance to ridicule you for your self-deprecating thoughts, you choose to change the topic instead, picking one that’s interesting her enough to forget all about your worries. “I heard from Izzy you wanna go bowling?” 

“Yeah!” Sunwoo perks up, excitement swirling in his dark orbs. “I haven’t been in a while, actually. I was thinking us four could go after exams are done? As a celebration?” 

You four. You find the fact that this is your new usual strange, but also welcome. How you fit into the group, your presence always counted on. Somewhere along the way, you fell into the causality of the friend group– and you can’t say you hate it as much as you thought you would. 

“Yeah, I’m down,” you shrug. “I’ve never played, though.”

“Dude, you and Eric go so well together, then. He’s actually shit at it, so I would even go as far as saying you will be better than him after two tries,” Sunwoo laughs. 

You and Eric go so well together– your brain repeats like a mantra. You know he didn’t mean it in that way. You can’t help but wonder– if you’d ask, would he further support his point?

“Speaking of Eric, what’s taking him so long? We’re gonna be late for the concert, at this point,” Izzy hums, checking the time on her phone.

“Should I go tell him to hurry?” you ask, receiving a pair of nods ushering you to go get him.

Taking a few steps towards the staff-only room, not thinking much before you pull the doorknob, you peep inside– regretting it immediately.

You’re met with the image of Eric turning towards the door to see who it is, shirtless. Your eyes can’t help but wander over the angles of his defined arms and stomach, making heat rush into your cheeks faster than you’ve ever felt it before, a broken noise escaping your throat as you pathetically try to both apologize and pretend you didn’t just have a visceral emotion to the sight of his bare body right there, a few meters away from you.

“Shit, sorry, I just–” you say as you turn on your heel, your body moving by itself and on its own accord as your brain flashes a few red exclamation marks right in front of your eyes, “they just– we should hurry, they said,” you mutter out, blanking.

“Coming!” Eric hums, the shuffling of clothes behind you making you believe he is now fully dressed. You won’t test your theory and look over your shoulder, though– you fear the dreams you’d have tonight if you saw him shirtless even for a second longer. You don’t take the initiative to leave the room either, though– feet glued to your spot right behind the door.

You hear the locker slammed shut, the sound of footsteps approaching making you all alert. God, you feel awkward. You feel embarrassingly awkward.

You find comfort in picking at the fabric of his shirt on your body, playing with it in between your fingers. After a moment, you feel his palm come in contact with your shoulder, his arm reaching around your figure as he leads you out of the storage room once again, completely ignoring your flustered state. You’re not sure if he’s uncomfortable or if he truly didn’t mind– but the moment he utters out his next comment, your knees almost buckle, making you breathless at the sight of his cheeks dusted a light pink.

Tugging at the sleeve of his own shirt adorning your body, he admits: “This looks really good on you, by the way.”

When you arrive at the festival, the band isn’t playing yet. You and your friends decide to hang out in the back of the crowd, not really wanting the music to blast straight into your ears from the speakers on the podium, and before you even have a chance to ask Eric who is the friend that’s singing in the band you’re here to see, the male disappears to find the toilets.

Chuckling at the fact that he couldn’t take care of the business before you left the pizzeria, but also suddenly too bored without him (since Izzy and Sunwoo don’t count as proper company when all they pay attention to at this point of their relationship is each other), you decide to get in the line for drinks, announcing your departure to the love birds before you go. You figure you should probably get a drink for Eric too, since he always makes it his quest to pay for yours before you even get a chance to take out your wallet, and you suddenly see his departure as the perfect opportunity to do just that– he won’t have a way to stop you this time. 

Standing promptly at the end of the line, you people-watch and listen to conversations of the fellow students hanging around the field. The drink stands are the most occupied out of the whole festival, the crowd of people waiting for a beverage accumulating half the population waiting for the concert, making you almost regret going here alone, since it’s pretty boring to just stand around, doing nothing.

“Damn,” someone hums from behind you, making you turn around to face the stranger, “I’m doomed.”

Instinctively, you raise your brows in question at the male, only prompting him to speak more once you make eye contact. 

“I’m playing on stage in a bit, but I wanted to get a beer before we start,” the guy states, chuckling. “At this rate, I’m gonna be late for my own set!” 

The fact that one of the band members that are supposed to perform in just a few minutes is currently standing behind you in line for drinks is a little amusing, to be honest. You’d say it’s kind of irresponsible to get to your own gig late, but you guess the boy is living the lifestyle of a punk star already, despite bagging only a mere university concert.

“You should try skipping the line and saying you’re VIP, then,” you joke. 

“And get killed? No, thank you,” the boy laughs, shaking his head. “I’ll just see if I can make it in 15 minutes. If I don’t, I’ll just make a run for it.”

Laughing, you nod in acknowledgement at his comment. You don’t really expect the conversation to go any further after that, but the stranger surprises you as he offers you his hand to shake, a lazy smile appearing on his face as he introduces himself.

“I’m Yeonjun, by the way,” he says.

“Oh, nice to meet you. I’m Y/N,” you smile, shaking his outstretched palm.

“How come I’ve never seen you around before?” he hums, making a step towards you as the line moves, making you walk back a step to close the gap in the crowd. Still, he follows you a step further and invades your personal bubble, standing too close for someone you’ve just met.

“Maybe you have,” you shrug, “and you just don’t remember it.”

“I’d remember a pretty face like yours,” Yeonjun comments, making you bite back a laugh. 

Is he flirting? Wow. You scan the male up and down, his self-assured stance making you believe that he is very confident in his persona. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s very attractive– plump lips, tall, shoulders broad– or maybe it’s the social status that comes with being in a band. Nonetheless, you can see the act working on many women. 

Not you, though.

“Well, I study business, so maybe that’s why.”

The male nods, shrugging. “Maybe I’ll have to hang around the business building more often, then.”

“Maybe,” you nod, chuckling. “There's a bunch of weirdos majoring in Accounting out there, though, so I’d watch my back, if I was you.”

“Well, if it means I get to see your face, I can put that past me,” Yeonjun smirks, making you mentally roll your eyes at the cheesiness of his words.

You don’t really get affected by obvious pick-up lines like these. Not that you hear them often– quite the opposite, really– but you much prefer more natural dynamics. One where conversations feel easy and casual, not forced and with deeper intentions. You can’t deny Yeonjun’s attractiveness, no, but you also can’t really say it’s doing much for you.

Not really knowing what to reply, you awkwardly shrug. “And what do you major in, then?”

“Communications,” the male replies. Something in you clicks– is this the friend Eric was mentioning? You should ask him about Yeonjun after he comes back.

Before you even have a chance to open your mouth and say the words, the male cuts you off after taking a quick glance at his phone. “Look, Y/N, I’d love to get to know you more, but I really have to run now. But if you give me your number, we can get a drink together after my gig is done?”

“Oh–”

“That won’t be needed,” you hear a low voice coming from behind you, making your eyes snap towards the source. Your eyes go wide as you recognise the owner of the voice instantly, your heart hammering in your chest at the close proximity he puts between the two of you. “She’s with me, actually.”

“Eric, dude!” Yeonjun beams– confirming your suspicions. “Sorry dude, I didn’t know that was your girl.”

Your girl. The two words echo in your ears, making your world tilt slightly on its axis. It’s not even true– you’re not together and you’re not Eric’s in any way, shape or form– but something about being called that by other people while wearing his clothes makes you feel like you just shifted realities into one where you’re with him and not so scared of his rejection. One where you’re dating and you get to be called that all the time– one where the words are true. 

You’re being foolish again.

You look at Eric in shock, noticing him already staring down at you with a panicked expression on his face. You don’t really know what’s going on in his head behind the shaking orbs of his, a tight-lipped smile offered to his mate as the tips of his ears burn red, a hesitant tone of voice making it known that the possessive words caught him off guard just as much as they did to you. “Well, not exactly…”

The male trails off. Your stomach does that weird thing again. You’d say there’s a soaring hint of hope in your chest, swimming around your intestines, that you want to simultaneously help and also drown in fear of holding on to something that is not even there in the first place, as you look back at Yeonjun. He is now staring the two of you down– shifting his gaze from one of you to the other, a knowing grin appearing on his lips as he processes the situation. 

“O-oh… Okay, I see what you mean,” he nods, laughing. “Well, see you two later! I’mma head to the stage,” he pats Eric’s shoulder and waves at you before fully disappearing from the never-ending drink line.

A suffocating silence engulfs the two of you after his departure, making you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek. The thoughts running through your brain almost suffocate you before Eric brings air into your lungs again, making your inner monologue stop as he casually speaks up again, showing you that nothing has changed in your dynamic after this interaction and there is no reason for you to feel awkward with him right now. 

You just need to silence your thoughts and feelings more efficiently. These slip-ups can’t keep happening.

“What will you have to drink?” he asks.

“I’m not telling you, because then you’ll get it for me and I decided I’m paying today,” you say, batting your eyelashes innocently at the male.

“I can just pay anyway, you know?” he laughs, making you shake your head.

“You don’t have to do that,” you hum. “Actually, I don’t want you to. You keep getting things for me, so I think this is the time to repay the favor.”

“Damn it,” he sighs. “That was me paying the Y/N subscription, though. How will I manage to make you keep hanging out with me now?” he jokes, shaking his head.

“Stupid,” you giggle, teasingly pushing him out of your way. “What will you get? And don’t say nothing, it’s my time to pay the Eric subscription fee.”

“I actually get paid in hugs and cuddles, so this doesn’t work on me,” the male shrugs, avoiding eye contact with you. 

“Damn,” you hiss through your teeth, acting distraught. “That payment is long overdue, then. Wonder if they’ll come and take my house, or something.”

“I heard they won’t if you pay back what you owe,” he states casually.

How can he say such things with a straight face? Does he not realize just how much his sweet words affect you? Does he not know you feel like he has a magnet inside of him at all times that is begging to pull you in and glue you to his side, always and forever? Is he unaware of the effect his arms have on you whenever he puts them around your shoulders in public, or to the way your hands sweat whenever his fingers mindlessly drag themselves along the length of shoulder while doing so?

Or does he know and only wants to drive you crazier, more insane? Does he enjoy your misery?

“Hope it’s not a lot, then,” you joke, watching as the boy finally looks at you, eyes soft and glimmering, shoulders shrugging.

“I’ll hand the accounting over to you,” he says. “I trust that you’ll figure it out.”

Punching him in the shoulder lightly, you shake your head at his antics. “Peach iced tea, then?” 

“How did you know?”

“You always get that one when you’re driving,” you say, walking up to the counter.

He lets you pay for the drink this time, eyes glued to your figure. You’re unaware of the way he watches you in the crowd, just as much as he is of the fact that he doesn’t have to fear an older, taller band guy stealing your attention away from him. 

You come back to your friends with the drinks in hand just in time for the show to start. You watch the stage and grin at the sight of the frontman you just met having the time of his life during his gig, while the boy next to you watches your face every time a love song appears on the setlist.  Neither of you are bold enough to dance together to the slow beats the way Izzy and Sunwoo are, lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes. You share knowing looks instead– growing shy when you hum the lyrics off the well-known songs Yeonjun’s band covers and the words get too intimate. 

In the tune of love by wave to earth, though, when your heart skips a beat as Eric’s hand accidentally brushes against yours, you decide they wrote the song about him– not that you’ll ever admit that out loud.

The doorbell rings. Alone in the apartment, but knowing exactly who you’re expecting to see on the other side of the door– well, at least who you’re hoping to see– you shuffle towards the hall in your socked feet, taking your sweet time, your pace slow. There is not much energy stored in your body after today, and even though you wish to just bury yourself under the covers of your bed and sleep until you regain everything that your internship took away from you– until you don’t feel so bad about yourself and so defeated with your efforts– your small, fragile heart yearns for the presence of one person in particular, making you sheepishly order pizza through their website, because you know he has work today and there is no other way for you to see him.

Reaching for the handle, you open the door and reveal your busted appearance to Eric Sohn standing at your doorstep with a box of pizza in his hands, a light pink hoodie covering his figure, eyes big as the moon staring at you all expecting.

“So? How did it go?” he asks, genuinely hopeful. The boy has been suspicious of your mood ever since you got the final presentation on your internship over with and you didn’t instantly text him, telling him how it went– and the look he finds on your face only further proves his suspicions.

Your face morphs into a deep frown, trying to bite back your tears. His cheerful demeanor drops the moment he sees you struggling, not wasting a second as he shifts towards you and makes you back up into your apartment, putting the pizza box onto the coffee table in your hall before throwing his arms around your body, leading your grabby hands to hold on to the fabric of his sweater.

“It was terrible,” you sniffle, feeling the palm of his hand cradle your head into the crook of his shoulder, petting your slightly matted hair. A few tears escape your eyes and roll down your cheeks, making your whole body shake and tremble in his hold. 

You don’t usually show how affected you are by disappointment. You feel a bit humiliated, a bit embarrassing for both flunking your presentation and also for showing your weakness in front of Eric, but his gentle nature and the comfort you feel in his sheer presence is enough for you to forget about the hurt. You try to focus on the warmth of his skin instead, on the way his arm soothingly runs down your back, making you ground yourself. There is not much you can tell him in your current position, words getting caught in your throat, but it’s still enough for him to understand.

“I worked so hard on it,” you mumble, “I tried so- I tried so hard, and then they said it w-was bad and–”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he hums, holding you closer to him. 

You’re not used to not being instantly good at everything. It’s something you have yet to come to terms with after getting into university. You’re no longer the top of your class and you aren’t the best at all assignments and final exams you take anymore– and it’s a big kick to your ego. It makes you feel useless. It makes you feel stupid.

And that’s world-shattering. The image you once had of yourself is now taken forcefully away from your hands, replaced by disappointment and shame from the fact that you’re only mediocre and everything you thought about yourself up to this point was just a mere lie.

“Y/N, you tried your best. And I know you feel bad now, but I’m still proud of you for working so hard– it’s not your fault your efforts weren’t appreciated,” he says close to your ear, trying his hardest to be the calm after the storm for you.

After a few moments spent breathing in his scent, anchoring yourself to his presence, you force yourself to pull away from his chest. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, averting his gaze– because still, this is all so new to you and you don’t really know how to let yourself feel less foolish for your sudden outburst– you shrug and clear your throat.

“Uhm… thank you,” you mumble, “sorry for…”

“No,” he shakes his head, suddenly moving to take off his shoes. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“You’re… Eric, you have work, you can’t just stay. I don’t want you to get in trouble–”

“They can’t fire me,” he chuckles, trying to make light of the situation. After you watch him with worried, guilty eyes– because even though the logical part of your brain is telling you to throw him out of your apartment and just go eat the pizza you ordered as you bite back your own tears, the emotional side of you really wants him here, it really wants him close. He moves towards you again and ruffles your hair, gentle eyes watching you, preventing you from protesting any further. “It’s okay, Y/N. You need me here more than they do tonight, trust me.”

“I feel bad now,” you mumble.

“I know,” he playfully notes, “that’s why I’m here. Besides, you’re more important than work anyway.”

“That’s a pretty fucked up list of priorities,” you laugh airly, trying to mask the way his words have your heart squeezing on itself, nervous gold swirling in your stomach.

“It works for me,” he shrugs.

The moment you move back towards your room, the realization of the fact that Eric’s never seen it before sinks in fully, suddenly making you nervous about the act. Everything feels strangely natural as he enters the space, though, feet shuffling towards your bed as he takes a seat on the comfy mattress. However, your eyes still nervously scan your room, chewing on your bottom lip as you wonder if the perception of you has changed after seeing the state of you, the state you live in. “I’m sorry, it’s kinda messy–”

“Y/N.”

Looking at him, noticing the encouraging, gentle gaze he offers you, everything around you shifts in its axis– the world stops, giving you a chance to breathe, a chance to exhale, and the weight slowly disappears off your shoulders. 

“Relax,” he laughs softly as he reaches for your hand, tugging you towards him. Taking your place in between his legs, towering over the sweet creature in your bed, you feel like you can finally breathe more easily now that he’s here.

It’s okay, you realize. Magically, today no longer feels like the end of the world. 

His thumb gently swipes across the back of your palm, making your insides turn into a putty, a soft smile slowly mirroring his appearing on your previously frowning face. 

“I’d like to, uh..” you clear your throat, shying away from his gaze, “pay back the missed subscription fees then, if I can.”

Your bold statement has the room fall into an overbearing silence. For a moment, you forget it’s Eric who you’re with– the man that never judges you, the only one that makes you feel safe– as you go into a momentary panic. When you dare to look at him again, though, you notice him eagerly searching for your gaze, a boyish smile playing with his lips showing you that he doesn’t mind you asking– quite the opposite, really. He enjoys the preposition.

The male leans back in your bed and watches you as you climb next to him. For a moment, you don’t really know what to do, being too shy to hold onto him the way you truly want to, but the male wastes no time as he shuffles a bit in your sheets and moves to his side. One of his arms sneaks around your middle, pulling you to him, as his leg carelessly swings over your feet, trapping you in. His whole body weight rests against your figure, but it does nothing to suffocate you or take air out of your lungs– quite the opposite, really. 

You feel content in his hold. Your hand instinctively holds onto his forearm, keeping him close. If you could, you’d crawl into his skin, make a home in his chest and stay there, protected from all bad. What you don’t realize is that there’s a little fort in his heart reserved as a house for you already– one he guards and lets no one into– the unspoken, tender words now hanging everywhere around the corners of your room.

“The pizza will get cold, though,” he mumbles, tone of voice low from the close proximity of him next to you, the desire to protect the intimacy showing through the hushed out words.

“I’m not hungry,” you say lazily– exposing him to the fact that it’s not the food you needed tonight when you were ordering. “I kinda feel sleepy, though” you admit, letting your eyes rest a bit. You’ve been restless ever since you came home from work today– you didn’t know all you needed to finally turn off your endless stream of thoughts was Eric’s presence.

“Sleep, then,” he hums. “I’ll heat it up for you when you wake up.”

You let out a disapproving sound.

“You need sleep. And also food,” he scolds you, his other hand somehow sneaking itself under your figure and into your hair again, playing with the strands and scratching at your scalp. “You’ve been stressing out for so long, no wonder you’re so worn out right now.”

You feel like you’ve been laid bare, exposed right in front of his eyes. You feel naked and fully vulnerable, but you make no effort to shield yourself from his gaze, for it’s not prying and unwanted, but gentle and caring– so much to the point you feel like it’s going to consume you. Your head spins and your heart aches with deep yearning– it’s strange. 

You already know what that feeling is: 

You’re falling, falling, and falling.

All there’s left is to hope he won’t drop you. All there is left is to hope he’ll catch you on your way down.

Your body shifts so it’s facing him, your breathing mixed. Your faces are inches away from each other, making you afraid to open your eyes and study him from up close– for you think he knows how to read you too well by now, and your lingering gaze would tell him too much. Eyes don’t lie, after all– they never do.

“You did well,” he hums. 

The shattered pieces of your tender heart spill themselves into his outstretched palms. You watch as he mends them together, sewing them with an invisible, red string. The boy silently leans into your face and his lips press a gentle kiss to your cheek, only further strengthening your decision to stay blind in the moment, not wanting to reveal just how much you’re affected by the tender action. 

It’s been a long drop– a slow one, one you could get used to. Still, you’re falling, falling and falling,

And even though you’re unaware, he’s there all this time, waiting at the bottom, his arms open wide. 

The idea of celebrating the end of the exam season with Izzy, Eric and Sunwoo by going bowling is quickly and forcefully taken out of your hands when you arrive at Sohn's Pizza to pick the boys up, all dressed up and ready. The place is full of people, there is screaming coming out of the kitchen, and while usually, Eric or Sunwoo would be greeting you by coming out of the back and welcoming you in, there is no one in your sight– which makes you just the tiniest bit suspicious.

Sharing a concerned look with your roommate, the two of you curiously walk through the place and peek behind the counter, being met with emptiness as more screaming resonates through the kitchen. You don’t mean to intrude or listen in on a conversation you’re not exactly invited to, you really don’t– but you just can’t help it as the sound of Eric’s angry, frustrated voice cuts through the space, catching not only your attention, but also everyone else’s in the restaurant.

“I don’t care that dad is too scared to hire someone into our sacred family business!” he huffs. “I don’t give a single flying fuck, because now, our plans are ruined again, all because they decided to go on a surprise holiday and they left us three to deal with the whole place!” Eric ironically sings the words ‘surprise holiday’ as he expresses his frustration, showing how much the whole situation bothers him.

“Eric, calm down, people can hear you–” you hear Lisa muttering, making you chuckle at the interaction between the siblings.

“So if dad wants to go on a holiday ever again, he either hires someone so we don’t have to be here 24/7, or I quit!” he finishes his little rant. 

There is a moment of silence behind the thin walls, making you and Izzy stare at each other with a blank look– a look empty, but full of understanding that there is no bowling happening today and there is nothing you can really do about it– before the sound of dishes hitting the floor hits your ears, making you wince. The fall is followed by a pained voice full of misery.

“FUCK!”

Izzy chuckles, opening the door to the kitchen without much hesitance, inviting the two of you into the chaotic situation. Taking a step towards the room behind the staff only sign which you ignore because Izzy thinks she’s basically a part of the family now, you look around a bit anxiously, being met with the sight of Eric picking up bowls and pans from the floor and throwing them back into the sink to wash, Sunwoo adding topics to a pizza with furrowed brows and his bottom lip jolted out (clearly sulking), and Lisa checking up on the food in the oven.

All three pairs of eyes are glued to you the moment the sound of the door opening fills the space, two sets lighting up and the third one looking at you with pure curiosity. 

“Need any help around here?” Izzy chuckles, looking around. The place is messy– covered with sauce in some places, flour all over Sunwoo’s apron, soap and water dripping down the cleaning station. It’s clear as hell the three of them aren’t handling the after-exam Friday rush well by themselves, and although you mourn the idea of relaxing in a bowling alley with your friends after the hard weeks of finals, you can’t say you’re too disappointed.

You can’t play bowling, after all, and you still get to see your friends– so it’s no big deal.

“No, you don’t have to–” Eric starts, ever-so considerate.

“It’s okay, we just–” Sunwoo follows, the two boys not wanting to share the responsibility that’s not yours.

After hearing each other interrupting their dismissive words, the two look at each other and chuckle. “I’m afraid we can’t hang out today, though. As you can see, our parents left the place to us and went on a holiday–”

“We heard,” you cut the owner’s son off, a teasing grin on your face shutting the boy up instantly, to which he offers you a shy look as he drowns his hands in the sink again, trying to tackle the dishes. 

Walking over to the poor boy reminding you a little of a wet dog now, since his bangs are damp as well, making you believe he’s been running his hands through in frustration mid-washing up– you take a kitchen towel off one of the shelves and decide to dry off the plates he’s done scrubbing, putting them away neatly on one of the trays situated next to the sink and getting them ready for the next customers. You don’t really ask what to help with, since you’re sure Eric and Sunwoo wouldn’t tell you either– feeling bad for making you work with them instead of taking you out like they promised they would– you only tackle what seems to be the most important task in the moment, helping out the best you can.

“Izzy, I’m really sorry for exploiting you,” Lisa starts out, making the whole room laugh out at her joke, “but for a free pizza or maybe even two, would you mind doing the waitressing for a bit? I fear people out there are mad as hell, but maybe if you tell them we are short on staff today–”

“I’m on it!” your roommate nods and salutes to the older girl, disappearing back into the main area of the pizza place. Since she has some experience with waitressing and working in the food service, you doubt there is anything to worry about.

The kitchen quiets down, the only sounds heard being from the sink, an occasional sigh escaping Sunwoo’s throat– he really must have been looking forward to this day– the atmosphere growing less heavy and hectic with two more pairs of hands in the building. You know they don’t want to admit it, but the boys are secretly glad for the help– it makes working so much easier and less nerve-wrecking to the employed youngsters.

“I’m sorry,” falls out of between Eric’s lips after a while, low and sincere. You look at him from your place to the left of his figure, furrowing your brows at him in question.

“Huh?” you voice out, watching him shrug.

“Well, we were supposed to hang out today and now we can’t, so…” the boy trails off, making you chuckle and coo at him, touched with his sincerity.

“That’s not really your fault, so I don’t see why you’re apologizing,” you say, “besides, we are still hanging out now, no? I don’t mind the location change,” you smile, slightly bumping your hip into his, the kitchen towel now getting damper and damper with the amount of dishes you’ve dried off with it in such a small time frame.

The two of you continue on with the task, all while playfully bumping hips from time to time, trying to catch the other one off guard with the contact, grins shared between the two of you. You barely register Izzy coming in and out of the kitchen, telling the cook– Sunwoo– the new orders, Eric and you pulled into your own bubble, attention focused mostly on each other, then at the otherwise domestic act accompanying you in your interaction.

“Exams went well?” Eric asks. 

Nodding, you hum in agreement. “Some were harder than others, but I didn’t fail any, so that’s a win. You?”

“About the same,” he grins. “I mean, the grades aren’t great, but I passed all of them, so…”

You laugh at his comment, shaking your head at his attitude. You wish you could take school and all of its responsibilities with as much ease as your friend does– too bad you’re an anxious over-achiever and don’t really know how to relax ever.

“Academic weapon,” you joke.

“Oh, that’s your title,” he says as he finally scrubs off the last plate and turns the tap off, placing it into your hands to dry, “I don’t even try, because I don’t wanna take it away from you,” he jokes.

“So considerate,” you muse, rolling your eyes at him. The boy wipes his hands on the towel hanging off your arm, the two of you sharing a playful look– Eric’s eyes swirling with honey and gold inside, making you all warm and fuzzy. You find it hard to look away.

The noise of someone suddenly clearing their throat catches you off guard and pops the soap bubble you’ve been trapped in with your friend, making you look at the source, curious what his sister has to say. She is looking at the two of you with a teasing smirk on her face that instantly makes your cheeks burn– for you know you were caught staring too much, too long at her younger brother– before she points to the pizza boxes in front of her, towering so much they almost topple over and drown her in the baked dough and cheese.

“I need you two to do the deliveries,” she muses, “if you don’t mind, of course.”

Shaking your head, showing that you’re completely fine with the task, the two of you walk over towards the impressive pizza tower. Eric takes the bigger half into his hands while Lisa puts the car keys onto the box on top of your smaller stack, sending you a knowing look that you try to ignore. 

Walking out of the place, noting that one person could very well do the deliveries alone after loading up the car, but also realizing that even though you could be more needed inside, you kinda wanna spend more time with Eric, you wait for him to shut the car door and tell you the next instructions.

“I think the most efficient way to do this is one of us driving and the other one going up to the doors with the orders,” he muses, watching you nod in understanding. “I can drive, if you want?”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, not really happy with the mental image of talking to so many people tonight, you huff. “I kinda wanna drive, though…?” you peep. 

The male stares at you for a few seconds– as if contemplating if you’re safe enough of a driver, or something– before he places the key into your hand and closes your palm, entrusting you with… pretty much his life, if you really think about it. In his defense, it only takes one wrong turn and both of you could be dead– but he seemingly believes in your abilities.

After you get into the driver’s seat and adjust it to your liking, making sure you can see in all of the mirrors, you pull out of the parking lot with ease, turning with Eric’s directions. You see him watching the map on his phone, making sure you know where to go in time to not turn this drive into an amateur redemption of The fast and the furious: Tokyo drift. You drive smoothly, getting to the destination in short time, stopping in front of the targeted house and watching as your friend gets out of the car with a few pizza boxes, jogging up to the front door.

The sight makes you remember how you met him a few months ago. It makes you chuckle, noticing how much has changed– you didn’t even want pizza that night, but today, you’re driving him in his car, watching as he makes the deliveries. 

“No strange notes asking for cute delivery boys?” you joke when he gets to the car and tells you to drive straight until he says to turn right, making him chuckle.

“No, not really,” he shakes his head, “but I think it’s funny how Sunwoo didn’t get to go, yet it still landed him a girlfriend.”

“I mean, they were both pretty desperate,” you admit, chuckling. Your foolish brain can’t help but wonder– what if it could land both of them a girlfriend? What if you were bold enough to confess your feelings one day? 

“True,” he nods, “they go well together.”

“It’s still miserable to watch them interact sometimes, though,” you joke.

“I’m sorry, I tried my hardest to prevent it,” he muses.

Furrowing your brows, you look at him in confusion only for a second before you focus back on the road. “Huh?”

“I physically fought Sunwoo so I could go deliver those pizzas to your house back then,” he grins. “Back then, it was because I genuinely believed I was the cuter one, but I think that somehow, I kind of felt it, y’know? Like, intuition. It was telling me ‘Eric, don’t let Sunwoo deliver those pizzas, because then your friend will get into a relationship and make every second with him miserable, because he can’t shut up about his new girlfriend–”

You cut him off by laughing, shaking your head at his antics. Eric points towards a street, hinting that you should turn, having you follow his orders. 

“I like your confidence,” you say, “but to be fair, seeing you show up at my door was kind of crazy, after all these years.”

“You make it sound as if you disagree with me,” he casually utters out. 

Your hands sweat on the steering wheel. Maybe you should swerve off the road and drive into a tree so you can avoid this conversation.

“Maybe I do,” you shrug, thankful that driving makes it easier for you to avert your gaze from him and not make it seem like you’re forcefully avoiding him.

“So we’re just gonna ignore the fact that you called me the hottest–”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m crashing the car–” you threaten, your voice coming out a bit more miserable-sounding than you intended it to, showing just how not casual the whole situation was for you.

“Look, you don’t have to be shy about it, we both know–”

“Okay, passenger princess,” you shut him off, watching as the boy next to you has a visceral reaction to your comment.

“I literally offered to drive!”

“Whatever you say,” you muse as you make the car stop at the next destination and let Eric out to complete another delivery.

After the boy jumps inside of the car again, he ignores the previous topic of the conversation. That fact makes you happy, since you don’t really know if you’re ready to face the problem at hand– the problem being the very obvious and strong, magnetizing feelings you have for the boy– so you only continue to drive, listening to the radio he puts on and his occasional humming that he slides in through the directions he gives you.

He continues to deliver all the pizzas they baked when he announces that you’re approaching the last destination. You can’t say you’re happy about the fact– since you started to quite enjoy the comfort of the drive, but you guess you can’t really prolong the moment any more and force it to last forever, no matter how much you’d like it to.

Eric walks out of the car with the last three boxes in his hands, knocking on the door. The commotion lasts longer than usual, making you suspicious of the interaction he has with the man at the door, before you see the boy shrugging and walking back to the car, one pizza box still in his hands. To say you’re confused would be an understatement.

“What happened? Did we mess up somehow?” you ask, motioning towards the pizza box in his hands.

“I don’t think it was us who messed up,” Eric snickers, “apparently, they only ordered two pizzas, so I think Sunwoo accidentally made three.”

“Oh,” you hum, nodding in acknowledgement.

“But that’s fine, because that means we can have this one for free,” the boy grins at you as he puts on his seatbelt. “Let’s move a few blocks so we don’t just stay in front of this dude’s house, though.”

You furrow your brows at him, but still start the engine nonetheless. “Shouldn’t we head back? I bet we should hurry, from how packed it was, they surely need our help–”

There is a lack of worry in Eric’s face as he shakes his head in disapproval. It seems that neither of you really want to go back to Sohn’s Pizza and work– because it’s not as fun as driving around together, singing along to the radio– but the lack of empathy towards his sister and his friends surprises you. “I’m sure they will survive a few more minutes. Come on, Y/N, the bowling didn’t work out, so let me make it up for you at least this way.”

His pleading voice does enough to persuade you as you drive down the street and then a few more blocks to the left, trying to find a calm place where you could park the car and won’t bother anyone as you eat the remaining pizza, while also trying to forget about Lisa, Izzy and Sunwoo alone in the pizzeria working their asses off. You feel a bit guilty with the idea in your brain, but you try to push it back with the image of spending more time alone with Eric– and suddenly, the previous is almost too easy to ignore.

Little did you know that this was Lisa’s plan all along. While you may be a bad wingman, Eric’s sister surely isn’t.

Stopping in front of one of the houses that seems to be empty, turning the engine off and undoing your seatbelt, you spin around to face Eric as he opens the pizza box and gasps at the sight of the cheesy dough. “I’m pretty sure this was fate, man,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “There’s no way we are left with your favorite. Extra cheesy too, damn...”

“This is unbelievable,” you agree, playfully clasping your hands together in prayer. “Thank you universe for the sign. You were right, we were supposed to stay out longer.”

“I’m always right,” he nods, watching as you eagerly take a triangle off the greasy cardboard and bite down into it, your taste buds cheering in joy as you chew on the treat.

Eric is quick to follow as he takes one for himself as well, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as you eat. You didn’t even realize you were hungry before– your intentions being to eat at the bowling alley– and so you welcome this idea even more now that your stomach is less upset. Crossing your legs on the seat, not really caring about getting the car dirty– which in retrospect, you should’ve– you hum before you speak up again, already on your second piece.

“If you were a pizza, you’d be this exact pizza right here,” you hum. You don’t really know where that idea came from, but you think you’re speaking the truth– in your mind, it makes total sense.

Eric stares at you like a confused puppy, a slight grin appearing on his face showing you that he’s trying to see where that came from. “Why?” he asks. “Because you love me?”

Here it is again– the heat appearing on your cheeks from the panic, embarrassment filling your veins. You feel like you were caught in the act, like he sees right through you– with how he’s been acting the whole evening, you think he might have some sort of intuition. Still, you won’t admit to your feelings out loud– because there’s no way they’re reciprocated, and you won’t cause such a heartbreak to yourself willingly. 

Eric is just social like that. He is sweet, playful. There is no undertone to his actions– it’s just who he is as a person, and there is no way he likes you back.

“No,” you cough out, almost choking on the pizza. “You’d be a margherita, because it’s a safe choice. Everyone likes a margherita! It’s fun, and it’s–”

“Tasty?” he interrupts you, a shit-eating grin already plastered onto his lips. “I taste good too, wanna check?”

You think he might be teasing you just for the fun of it now. He loves to feed on your misery, because he sees right through you, he knows you’re absolutely, incredibly enchanted by him, and it strokes his ego to rile you up and make you flustered. You’re sure of it now. “Oh, shut it!”

Eric laughs out loud before he swallows another bite, shrugging. “If you were a pizza, you’d be hawaiian.”

“Hm? Why?” you ask, busying yourself with chewing on the cheesy dough in your hold. 

“Because you are both salty and sweet,” he starts, “and I didn’t expect to be so into it.”

His words make you stop in your tracks. He didn’t expect to be so into it. Does he mean he’s into you, or are you just reading too much into his words? Trying not to seem too affected by his words– trying to play it casual, nonchalant– you clear your throat and avert your gaze from him, continuing to chew. The pizza in your mouth loses all its flavor the longer you focus on it, turning into a mass of nothing to your taste buds. After the last bite, you’re left mortified with the realization that you have nothing to focus your attention to now, if you don’t want to face your friend again and take another slice in between your fingers from the pizza box resting in his lap, and so you just continue to stare ahead, beaten up by the awkward silence.

Play it cool, Y/N. Be normal. He must think you’re weird now, because you wondered even for a second if his joke was serious, and now he won’t want to hang out with you ever again–

“So, uhm, just checking,” Eric awkwardly laughs, something about his tone sounding nervous in your ears. “Are you really still that oblivious, or are you just pretending you didn’t catch that to not hurt my feelings because you don’t like me back…?” he asks.

Your heart does a somersault. Hell, you think you just went into cardiac arrest– your ears are ringing, your stomach is floating on water and your breathing quickens with his words. Having a full visceral reaction does nothing to help you speak back to him, but your body reacts on itself as you snap your head to the side and finally look at him, gazing into his big, honest eyes.

He looks at you in a similar way he did back at that party– expecting, hopeful. You didn’t catch it back then– the eager, desperate look in his orbs, wishing, praying you chose him in a room full of people, picked him in a row of anyone who would like to have you. It leaves you weak, it leaves you feeling like you were just punched in your face with the realization that you’ve been foolish to ever think that this was just how Eric acts and there was nothing more to his acts of care and affection.

“I-  uh… I just didn’t expect you to like me back…?” you say, making it sound like a question, still uncertain about the whole situation. “I thought you were just…” you trail off, pupils shaking as you watch the boy’s face morph out of nervousness into a bright, amused smile.

“Look, I’m– I just–” you stutter, not really knowing what else to say, how else to express yourself. 

Eric was always much quicker than you, much more clever in social situations. He takes your lack of words as a hint as he holds onto your honest, surprised state and takes it upon himself to solidify the reality for you, to show you what the two of you’ve been missing for the last couple of months. Reaching over the gearstick, he gently glazes your cheek with his palm before he sends a one last look to your eyes, watching out for any sign of discomfort. 

His lips lock with yours. You’re convinced the world stopped turning.

Eric Sohn is sweet like cherry cola. He is a taste of familiarness with something more to it, something new and fresh, sugary and addictive. He is gentle, with an exciting aftertaste, leaving you breathless and wanting more. He is like a hint of home, a memory of your childhood, all safe and loving and tender. 

The kiss is short. It has you leaning towards him, a handful of his hoodie filling up your fist as you desperately, foolishly drag him to you and press your lips to his again, as if to check if the last kiss was real and you didn’t just make it up in your mind by wishful thinking.

You guess you finally reached the bottom after the long, slow fall. You don’t even feel the landing as his arms hold you up and spin you around instead, showing you that falling in love doesn’t have to be all that scary– if the one you want is caring, if the one you want is nothing short of an angel in your eyes.

After you pull away from him, he rests his forehead against yours and enjoys the proximity which he doesn’t have to hide the need for anymore– now that he’s all yours to keep and you’re all his to hold.

“You really thought I didn’t like you back? Hell, Y/N, you’re all I ever think about,” he scoffs, showing you the ridiculousness of your own beliefs, his ever-so playful tone only further solidifying the sweet aftertaste of his confession. “I like, have butterflies in my stomach and all,” he confides, grinning at you. 

Rolling your eyes, finally easing into the new territory, you tease him for his words. “That was extra cheesy.”

“I thought you liked that?”

Gazing into his eyes, feeling your own heartbeat hammering against your chest, you can’t help but chuckle at the subtle irony of it all. 

“Maybe I do.”

[kpop-locks]

꒰ ˀˀ ↷ eric ; simple + edit ”♡ᵎ ꒱

like/reblog | @exolyxions

don’t repost our work or claim it as yours

[harumi-web]

🚢 🏛️ 🕊️ — cada pessoa é um mundo…

[qiankunnies]

Eric — 【Trigger [導火線] - The 9th Mini Album】 #Pioneer Concept Photos

[4wkjun]

12th floor, 1207. | syj

pairing: sohn youngjae × afab!reader

genre: smut with a tiny bit plot, just to have context? minors dni!!

warings: sex inside of an elevator, nipple sucking, fingering (f!receiving), pet names, protected sex!

random note: please tell me what you think! tell me where i can improve :(

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

“thank you!” you smiled as the blonde guy held the elevator doors for you. it was almost six p.m., your feet killing you inside of those awful heels, you couldn’t wait to get home and rest.

you leaned against the elevator wall, closing your eyes as the elevator got up. the elevator stopped abruptly, shaking as if it was about to fall down. you opened your eyes, nervous, only to see the emergency light on.

“what the fuck?” you sighed.

“it must have been a power outage” the guy next to you said, weirdly calm. you looked at him terrified, suddenly nervous to be stuck in the elevator with a neighbor you have never seen before. “it happens quite often around this building, are you new here?”

“what...?”

“you seem a little scared, that’s why i’m asking” the boy explained himself, sitting on the floor.

“and you’re not?!”

the guy chuckled, shaking his head. “i grew up here, it doesn’t amuse me anymore. i’m eric, by the way. i live on the 12th floor.”

“y/n.” you said, still nervous. “8th floor.”

eric nodded, grabbing his phone from his pocket. as expected, there was no service at all as the big numbers showed the time: 18:02. you expected to be out of that damn metal box in five minutes, max.

“your boyfriend’s not gonna like when he finds out his girl is stuck in an elevator with another guy” eric said, your eyes staring at your phone. 19:57. you had no other option but sit down and talk to the guy next to you, which you found out wasn’t that bad. he seemed to have a good sense of humor, making you laugh occasionally.

“i don’t have a boyfriend.”

“girlfriend?”

“nope. it’s just me and my cats.”

eric hummed, looking at you through the weak emergency light. the two of you sat down on the floor, next to each other – because you wore a skirt to work that morning, so you decided it was better to sit next to a stranger than across, letting him see your underwear.

“what?” you asked, looking back at him. eric shook his head, smiling.

“how come no one got you yet?”

you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. you playfully slapped his knee and he raised his eyebrows, looking funny at you.

“is that how you flirt?”

“nah, i wouldn’t flirt with you. i’m assuming you work in a office, doing fancy stuff. i’m a bartender, you wouldn’t fall for my crap.”

you shook your head, your eyebrows furrowed. “i’m not that shallow, y’know?” you responded, a little offended.

“oh, yeah? so if you headed to a bar after work, would you let me get you a free drink and walk you home?”

“sure, why not? it can be dangerous to walk drunk alone” you shrugged. eric laughed.

“would you let me kiss you in front of your door?”

“well, not in front of my door, 'cause you would have to pass my doorman...” you laughed. eric rolled his eyes, holding a smile back. “but i guess i would let you kiss me” you said, stopping laughing. your voice faded almost as a whisper, eric’s eyes strong on yours.

“do i have to buy you a drink first?” he asked, slowly leaning in.

maybe because you were tired, maybe because he made you laugh enough to find him charming, or simply because he is charming, you shook your head, whispering a weak “no” before pressing your lips against eric’s.

as his tongue circled your bottom lip, you held back a whimper. it’s been so long since you got on a date, you couldn’t remember when you had any kind of intimacy with another person. his tongue felt smooth against yours, his hands gripping onto your hips and you barely realized he placed them there. your hands found the nape of his neck, your fingers feeling his soft short hair.

realizing you felt uncomfortable in that weird position, eric pulled you in, trying to get you to sit on his lap. you broke apart of his lips, your cheeks bright red even under the dim lights.

“i can’t straddle you, i’m wearing a skirt” you said out of breath, his lips reaching your chin. he hummed, his nose caressing your jawline.

“i’m not gonna look, i promise” he said, his lips kissing the soft skin of your neck. you chuckled, unconsciously leaning your head back for him to have better access to your soft spots. “or we could both undress, if it makes you more comfortable.”

your laugh got stuck inside of your throat as eric sucked the sweet spot right under your jaw, your hands gripping onto his hair.

“fuck it” you moaned, throwing your leg on top of his lap, trying not to let your weight on him. eric chuckled, his hands lowering your body on his.

“that’s my intention” he groaned, his lips softly caressing your skin. you tried to lift yourself again and he laughed, lowering your body again. “you can sit on me, i won’t break.”

“it’s just... i just met you” you said, realization hitting you.

“let me show you what i do best, then” he said, his lips back on yours before you could answer. his hands lowered to your thighs, slowly lifting your social skirt. you found yourself actually sitting on his lap, his cock growing harder underneath you.

“wait, what about the security cameras?”

“it’s a power outage, princess. no one will be able to see you, just me” he whispered, his fingertips reaching your clothed pussy.

you laughed. “you promised you wouldn’t look” you reminded him, playfully. eric laughed, shaking his head.

“and gave you a better suggestion right after, remember?” he said, his left hand tucking your hair behind your ear. “we should both undress, hm?” as his right fingers circled your clit softly, you whimpered, feeling your arousal starting to pool.

while circling your clit slowly, his free hand started to unbutton your blouse. his lips met your collarbone with a hum, your skin burning against his lips.

“you’re not undressing, eric” you said, your eyes trying to stay open as his fingertips found the hem of your underwear, ready to pull them. his lips let go of your skin and he grinned, his left hand caressing your waist beneath the fabric of your blouse.

“would you like me to undress, y/n?” he asked, his tone sending chills to your spine. you nodded, feeling your cheeks hotter.

“it’s not fair.”

“what’s not fair?” eric asked, his right hand still hanging between your pussy and your underwear, waiting for your greenlight to pull them to the side.

“you’re only taking my clothes off.”

your hands found the hem of his t-shirt timidly, waiting for him to say or do something. eric smiled, gently squeezing the flesh of your waist. he leaned in, going straight to your right ear.

“then you better hurry up and take mine as well, before the power goes back and the neighbors catch us like this, hm?” he whispered, his knuckles brushing against your clit again. you whined both at the feeling and the thought of being caught, your hands held his shirt tight, pulling it before you could think straight.

eric let go of you to help you pull his shirt off, your jaw almost dropping by the sight of his toned abdomen right in front of you. you thought that kind of body only existed in television and photoshoped magazines, not in a couple of floors above yours. he laughed at your expression, caressing your cheek.

“you like what you see?”

you blushed, nodding. he grinned, his other hand caressing your thigh again. you couldn’t help yourself, grinding against his clothed crotch as his hand squeezed your thigh. eric groaned and you felt a knot down your stomach, completely turned on by now.

“you can see this everytime you want, babe. 12th floor, remember?” he said, trying to keep the mood as light as possible.

you nodded, leaning in to kiss his soft lips again. as you pressed your clothed pussy against his boner again, he moaned into the kiss, his hands dropping your blouse through your shoulders, quickly looking for your bra. he unclasped the piece of clothing with two fingers and you whined as he pulled your bra completely out of your body, embarrassed to be exposed like that. eric broke the kiss, taking his time to admire your bare chest, amazed by how beautiful you are. you tried to cover yourself with your arms and eric quickly grabbed your hands, looking at your eyes.

“there’s no need for you to be shy, y/n. you’re so pretty” he said, his hands leading yours to his torso. he made sure your hands got busy with his own body as his lips lowered to your upper chest. “you’re so hot” he mumbled between open mouthed kisses on your boob, so close to your hard nipple you could feel his breath. “it’s such a shame i’m the only one who gets to see how hot you look right now...”

“eric...” you moaned, anticipating for the moment he would finally lower his mouth to your nipple.

“tell me what you want and i’ll give it to you” he mumbled, making out with your soft flesh. you knew you would have bruises all over your chest in a couple of hours, but your brain was completely shut down at that point.

“i...” you tried. you actually tried to tell him to suck on your tits and touch your cunt as a desperate whore, but the words couldn’t find their way out of your throat. “i can’t” you whined.

eric chuckled, his hands going behind your skirt again. “you’re shy, hm? that’s ok, i’m in a good mood today. how do you feel...” he said, both his hands grabbing your ass. you moaned, closing your eyes shut. “... about telling me yes or no? i’ll ask if you want me to do something and you’ll tell me, hm?”

you nodded, your hands holding onto his torso.

“words, princess. i’m gonna need words.”

“yes, eric. yes” you whine. he smiled, even though you couldn’t see.

“do you want me to rub you, pretty girl?”

feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks and ears, you bit your lip before saying a shaky “yes”. eric hummed, his dominant hand entering your underwear with ease. his fingertips reached your slit, collecting your arousal before circling your clit for real this time. you moaned, your hands reaching for his shoulders as you leaned in, looking for support.

“you’re so wet, y/n” he cooed. “is it because of me? a stranger you met over an hour ago?”

“y-yes. god, yes” you whined as he kept his pace and pressure. he got you clenching around nothing just by rubbing your clit. jesus, you were quite deprived and didn’t even realized.

“do you want me to suck your tits, babe? make you feel real good before fucking you dumb?”

you whined, pressing your hips down, trying to get more friction of his fingers. “please...”

eric smiled big before attaching his lips to your hardened nipple. you moaned, squeezing his shoulders at the contact. his tongue circled your nipple so softly and slowly, almost as if he was devouring your body. his fingers stopped for a moment, only to slid through your slit again and enter your pussy slowly, his digits stretching your gummy walls. you bit your lip trying to avoid loud moanings, not knowing where the elevator stopped.

his cock was throbbing inside of his sticky underwear and you knew it. a little clumsy, you reached for his belt, loosening it the way you could, your body too overwhelmed to do things straight. eric let go of your nipple with a loud pop, smiling at you.

“you have no idea of how bad i want you to jerk me off, baby” he started, his fingers painfully slow in and out of you. “but i’m afraid we’re gonna have to pass it for now, 'cause i need to fuck you before the lights come back, hm?”

“but you... you’re doing it to me” you managed to say, almost strangled. he chuckled, pumping in and out of you faster. you gasped, your hands supporting yourself on his torso.

“and i could do this all day. but i can’t go home only feeling your dripping cunt on my fingers, can i?” he said softly, as if he wasn’t about to make you cum on his fingers. your fingernails digged into his skin and you held your breath, letting him know you were about to cum, so he kept the pace, his palm casually brushing through your clit.

you leaned your head against his shoulder as you came, literally drooling on his skin. you didn’t have time to feel embarrassed as he removed his fingers out of you as soon as you came down, licking them as if he was starving and you were the best meal he’s ever had. still shaking a little, you unzipped his pants and managed to pull his underwear down, the most uncoordinated way possible. eric chuckled and you felt your mouth watering at the sight of his throbbing tip hitting his stomach, so red and shiny leaking his precum.

“you think you can ride me?” eric asked, pumping himself slowly between your bodies. he had a decent size, probably big enough to hit your cervix, thicker than you expected.

as you looked at him with hazed eyes, his free hand found his walled inside of his back pocket. he stopped jerking off for a bit, looking for a condom between the tip bills he had in there. after finding and opening the package with his teeth, you couldn’t stop looking as his movements, wondering if he could fuck you raw.

“i think i can try” you said, lifting yourself up and pulling your panties to the side. as eric adjusted himself beneath you, you slowly sank down, feeling his tip stretching you. you bit your lips, holding a loud moaning and eric hissed. his hands grabbed your ass with eager and his head rested against the cold metal wall.

you lowered your body slowly, trying to adjust to the delicious feeling of his cock inside of you. as you got him completely inside of you, you whined and eric slapped your ass. your body jolted at the feeling, eric groaning at the movement. seeying his neck exposed, your lips shyly kissed his adam’s apple, slowly moving on top of him.

“aren’t you sweet?” eric groaned, slapping your ass again. “gosh, you’re so tight. talk to me otherwise i’ll cum in a minute” he moaned, his hand caressing the flesh he freshly slapped.

“i can’t think of anything” you whine, your ass smacking against his skin. his tip brushed against your g-spot so easily, your mind going completely blank. you gave the spot between his shoulder and his neck a specially harsh kiss, sucking on the skin right after. he moaned, the sound making you clench around him.

“you like it when i moan, princess?” he asked, his voice sending chills down your spine. you hummed against his skin, clenching again.

“men... they never moan” you said, closing your eyes again. you put your forearms on his shoulders, trying to get support as your thighs began to feel sore. eric chuckled, suddenly trusting his hips foward to meet yours. you moaned unexpectedly, throwing your head back.

“i’m not like the men you fucked before, hun” eric whimpered, his voice shaky. “i’m not intending to hide how good you feel around me.”

you whined, slowing down your pace. you were about to get cramps on your thighs, but you could feel your second orgasm so close...

“your thighs hurtin’?” eric asked, his hand squeezing your ass again.

“yes” you whined, sinking down again.

eric hissed before sliding himself down on the floor, laying the best way he could inside of that tiny metal cube. pulling your torso towards him, eric started to thrust in and out of you, fucking you deliciously.

you pressed your forehead against eric’s shoulder while whining, the pleasure becoming unbearable. eric kept his pace, his tip hitting your cervix non-stop.

“i’m gonna cum if you don’t stop clenching around me” eric moaned and you only whined in response, your hands squeezing the sides of his torso.

your name never seem to leave his lips as his thrusts became erratic and he came first inside of the condom. he kept his hard thrusts while riding his high and you took that moment to put your hand between your bodies and rub your clit, your orgasm washing over you in a matter of seconds.

you plopped your whole body down, your legs weak like jelly. eric chuckled, his hands caressing the sides of your body. he gave you a minute before pulling his dick out of you, enjoying your last whine.

“you look so beautiful like this” he said as you started lifting your body away from his. you seemed confused and he smiled. “all fucked up.”

you laughed and slapped his chest playfully before completely leave his lap. eric watched with hazed eyes as you fixed your underwear and lowered your skirt back to it’s place. when you were about to grab your bra, eric got it first, hiding behind his body.

“what’s this now?” you asked, chuckling. eric smiled, pulling his underwear and pants back up while still looking at you.

“your tits are too pretty to be covered by a bra” he shrugged, sitting on the floor again. you shook your head, suddenly feeling exposed again under the dim lights. “i’mma keep them for now, huh?”

you didn’t know what to respond as eric helped you dressing your blouse again, his fingertips brushing against your hot skin while he buttoned the piece for you. when he was done, you knew he could see your nipples piercing through the thin fabric – exactly like he pictured.

“so pretty” he mumbled before leaning in to kiss you again. and you let him kiss your lips for the nth time, completely unaware of the time or how long it would take for the power to come back.

(un)fortunately, the lights got back on two minutes after eric got you dressed again. you got on your feet awkwardly, leaning down to grab your terrible heels again. eric hummed at the view of your ass towards him, you skin still red under the fabric. eric got up as well, putting his shirt back on. he sneaked your bra inside of his pants while keeping eye contact with you.

the elevator’s ding indicated the 7th floor.

“be my guest to come around and get it back anytime you want, sweetheart” he smiled. you suddenly felt like hovering his body with yours again, but you couldn’t. “12th floor, 1207. i’ll wait for you.”

the doors opened and you walked out against your will, eric’s smile vivid inside of your mind. as the elevator’s door closed behind you, leaving you alone in the hallway, you took a deep breath before turning around.

you waited around twenty seconds before hitting the elevator button again.

[dinoswife]

౨ৎ Meant to be yours - Eric Sohn

Your best friend Eric picks you up in the pouring rain after a bad date night. This night turns into the night your best friend will stop being your friend forever..

- Pairings: nonidol!eric x fem!reader

- Genre: fluff, friends to lovers

- Warnings: kissing, crying

Author’s Note: I wrote this at 5am so lmk if something is wrong grammatically. Also I’m having such a huge Eric phase it’s concerning…

You don’t know why you keep coming to these dates anymore. Planning blind dates with random people won’t get you anywhere. As much as you thought things wouldn’t get worse after your date insulted you by implying that the dress that you’re wearing doesn’t compliment your body, he also dumped you in the pouring rain afterwards.

You didn’t think this guy would be such a jerk to not even give you a ride home after you said your car is on service but oh well you were wrong about him.

The rain was getting worse and worse, it was pouring so hard that the dress you were wearing was now stuck on you like skin. Your hair completely wet and your makeup ruined, mascara was running down your cheeks and it looked like you’ve been crying. Not that crying isn’t the only thing you’re able to do right now.

You pulled your phone out of your purse to get into your contacts. Leaving home for university was fun but now you didn’t have many choices on who to call in a situation like this.

Your mind could think of only one person to which you were close to. Your best friend Eric, you and him were best friends since high school. Him getting into the same university as you was just cherry on top. You were really happy when you found out your best friend and you would be in the same university but things were not going exactly how you wanted them to go.

Six months into university Eric got into a relationship. His girlfriend was really pretty very smart too. You were feeling a little jealous. But you figured that you weren’t jealous of her relationship with Eric just that she gets to spend time with him and you don’t anymore. Or that’s what you wanted to think at least.

You didn’t want to say anything to your best friend about the way his girlfriend was making you feel. So you stayed silent watching your best friend slowly drift away from you. Unfortunately, you and Eric did get distant from each other without realizing it.

One week ago you found out that Eric and his girlfriend had broken up. The sad part was that you found out through a mutual friend of yours and his. He didn’t say anything to you, which hurt you a lot. You also said nothing, you didn’t want to pressure him into talking to you.

At this moment, no one would come here in the dark night to pick you up in the rain after a bad date except for Eric. You hoped that he wouldn’t have changed that much so that he wouldn’t come at all. And also you hoped this phone call could be the reason you two get closer again.

You searched for his name in your contacts and took a breath before pressing the call button. The little rings made you anxious waiting for him to pick up. Suddenly you hear his voice on the line, you haven’t heard him in a while. “Hello?” It took you some seconds to respond to him trying to sound okay at least if not good. “Eric, um I’m sorry I know it’s almost midnight” you tried to sound as stable as possible but you were failing big time. It was very obvious you were crying it was impossible for him to not notice.

“Are you crying? Did something happen to you?” Eric’s voice sounded concerned and as much as you missed him and his voice getting him concerned about you was not on your to do list tonight.

“I am stuck outside of this restaurant downtown and it’s raining pretty heavily. Could you pick me up?” Your voice was more stable than before. Your heart was racing waiting for his response. Waiting to find out if you were going to see him tonight or not.

You noticed that it took him some seconds before he got to respond. You felt uncomfortable all of a sudden asking him such a thing after you haven’t spoken to each other for so long “Please?” You added as if you weren’t enough pathetic so far.

“Share your location, you can’t be that far. I’ll be there soon okay?” He said and you couldn’t hear any undertone from him. You couldn’t understand if he was mad or concerned or annoyed.

You shared your location as he said and waited patiently for him. Your heart was about to leave your body thinking that you’re about to see and talk to your best friend after months. You felt so nervous. You were anxious that maybe he didn’t want to be your best friend anymore, you were scared that maybe he didn’t miss you as much as you missed him.

The sound of a horn woke you up from your thoughts. You looked at the direction where the sound was coming from and met his figure running over to you. His hands held your arms tightly looking at you up and down for any sign of injury.

“Oh my god get in quickly you’re going to catch a cold” he basically yelled while holding your hand now to lead you to the passenger seat. Opening the door you saw two dry towels on the car seat. Eric took one of the towels to wrap it around your body trying to make you warm in any way he could.

He lead you to get in the car afterwards closing the door behind you and getting in the driver seat. He put his keys in and started his way over to your house.

The ride was a little silent. None of you talked and the only movement between you was when Eric opened the air conditioner to keep you warm.

When he pulled up in your porch he decided to make the first move “Can you tell me why you ended up like this? Do you have any idea how scared I got looking at you standing in the rain?” His tone was serious. He was seriously concerned about you and that made your heart flutter.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t have anyone to call I didn’t want to disturb you or get you concerned about me” you felt a little bad making him that scared. And also felt bad about how much you liked that he still cared about you. “I was on a date with someone who clearly didn’t like me.” You continued explaining to him

His brows furrowed as you said that. He was looking at you focused on everything you were saying as you explained to him how your date insulted you and then left you in the pouring rain without a way to get home

“ Why did you go out with him? I’ve told you so many times to get to know someone before trusting them on anything” he said looking a bit more mad than concerned right now.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. He was right after all.

“God can’t you see what’s good and what’s not?” He looked at you again, his tone still sounded mad. This time it was like he was blaming you for everything and like he was mad at you about it. You didn’t quite like how he was blaming you for everything as you were sitting next to him after getting your feelings hurt tonight

“If you want to blame me about it you can go home now. Thanks for the ride, you can go back to not talking to me now” You tried to avoid adding this last sentence but you just had to bring it up. You opened the car door getting out and walking to your door trying to get your keys out of your purse. Eric followed the same movements as you and was standing now just behind you. “I didn’t mean to blame you. I’m sorry”

His voice more relaxed than before. His apology sounded sincere which made you stop fumbling around with your keys and turn around to face him.

“Can I come in to talk to you?” He continued with his eyes giving you an apologetic look. You couldn’t watch you and him be like this. You gave him a little nod and opened your door letting both of you inside.

Eric hasn’t been in your house for a while, the moment he got inside he started noticing all the little changes you made in the house. You told him you’ll be back in 5 minutes after you change into something dry and get a towel for your hair.

He started walking around looking at the flowers on the coffee table,knowing how tulips were your favorite he smiled a little without noticing. His eyes caught some photos you hanged on the wall. Family photos, you traveling. His eyes landed at the pictures of you and him together in high school, when you went to prom together cause you promised it to each other. Pictures of the first year in university, when he treated you to pizza and beers for the first day as university students.

His smile didn’t fade once, if not it was getting bigger and bigger. He was thinking about all those memories he made with you. He knew he missed you like crazy but seeing pictures made it ten times worse.

“What are you looking at?” You said from behind holding a towel to your hair. Eric turned around half scared half embarrassed about the fact that you caught him looking around.

You realized he was actually looking at old photos of you and him together and suddenly understood why he was acting like that.

You chose not to comment on it and try to talk to him about everything that has been going on. “I’m sorry for tonight. I made you drive all the way to that restaurant to pick me up” you said trying to break the ice and he looked up at you to respond. “Don’t worry I’d do it again if you asked me to” he said comforting you with a soft smile also. You gave him a little smile back not knowing what to say but before the silence became uncomfortable Eric spoke up again “I wanted to say that, I miss you. I know we’ve been distant and I know it’s because I got into a relationship and I’m really sorry for pushing you away. If i had realized what I was doing at the time I really wouldn’t have pushed you away from me.”

He said looking into your eyes as a sign of sincerity. You couldn’t be mad at him ever. He meant it. You missed him too so much. Talking to him and seeing him tonight was so overwhelming for you. You needed Eric next to you at all times.

“I’m sorry I let it happen as well. I really missed you too you have no idea.” You said back to him as you tried to hold your tears back.

Eric moved closer to you still looking at you in the eye going in for a hug as you let him enter your personal space and hold you tightly after so many months.

Feeling his hands around your waist made your heart face again. You tried to ignore how your heart always does that when you’re with Eric ever since high school.

You chose to avoid those feelings you had for him. You couldn’t tell him how you only went to those blind dates to find someone better than him but failed miserably.

Eric snapped you out of your thoughts suddenly talking in the hug “I need to tell you something if we are going to just solve everything right?” He said and this made your heart race even faster.

Your heart was hoping he would actually feel something for you back while your mind was telling you to push those stupid feelings away.

“You can tell me everything” you said pulling out of the hug to make eye contact with him. While you were expecting him to have a smile on his face as you did his expression was much more serious than yours

It looked like it was taking him some courage to speak to you about what he wanted to say. But you gave him the time he needed.

Finally he was ready to talk to you as you could read his thoughts through his eyes.

His eyes were looking straight at yours as he took a deep breath before he said anything and held your hands on his

“ I like you. I know we’ve been best friends since high school and this is not the kind of relationship we have with each other. I tried avoiding those feelings really that’s why my last relationship happened. And that’s also why I ended it. I know this might ruin everything but I wanted to tell you.”

Did he really say this right now? Like you’re not dreaming right? Could he read your thoughts just seconds ago?

Eric was scanning your eyes for any sign of discomfort trying to see if he crossed the line.

You were in pure shock not knowing what to say. Thankfully you woke up pretty quickly to realize he’s waiting for you to talk. “What? You mean that? Like you really mean that? You don’t like me in a friendly way right?” You sounded a little stupid at the moment which Eric found adorable causing him to giggle.

“ I mean it, I like you in a ‘I want to be with you’ way I promise” he joked this time seeing how flustered happy and shocked you got all at once. His smile never leaving his face now and you noticed how even his eyes were smiling

“ I really like you too, I went to all those blind dates to try and find someone better than you but I found none. I like you” you replied in a soft tone not being able to hide your smile anymore. Your heart was beating so fast your whole body was overwhelmed with happiness and his hands never left your waist this entire time.

His eyes never left yours and he was looking at you so softly. His eyes could say a hundred things to you that no one could even describe in words.

“Can I kiss you now?” He said with a spark of excitement which made you laugh a little looking at how cute he was. You gave him a little nod together with a smile as he moved his hand from your waist up to your cheek to cup your face softly and lean forward into you. Both of your eyes closed naturally leaving your lips as the only way of communication with each other.

When his lips met yours it felt like fireworks were flying around in your stomach. Your heart probably exploded and you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss making Eric break a smile as well. You don’t know for how long you’ve been waiting for this moment to come not even knowing if it was ever coming to reality. You couldn’t be more happy right now. You won your best friend back and also gained a lover along the way.

What you and Eric had was rare. It felt so right to be together. He understood you and your needs completely and you understood his. After all you started thinking that maybe you were meant to be his.

[kyufeed]

[slytherinshua]

♱　SACRIFICE　( 애릭손 )

genre hurt/comfort , futuristic/rebel au , nursing trope , eric x fem!reader , inspired by the vibes of trigger mv   cw injuries involving blood , arguing , not proofread   wc 756   request no   note for @hursheys from the moot fic form <3   net @kstrucknet @deoboyznet

“Why did you abandon the plan?! You weren’t there when Sunwoo sent the signal!” You shouted, running to where Eric had fallen to the ground, propped up by his arm. 

“They were planning to ambush you— they had already caught onto our plan,” Eric stuttered defensively. He gripped his side with the hand that wasn’t holding up his body weight, and you saw him try to hide his grimace.

“Are you injured?” You asked, this time with a little less bite in your voice. Your anger and confusion hadn’t completely subsided. Eric knew your temper was hot, it always had been in the years he had known you. You felt deeply, and he loved that about you, but you also were quick to let your emotions control you— easily drowning in your feelings. 

“It’s not too bad. It can wait until we get back to base,” Eric assured you, a look in his eyes telling you to stop worrying about him. But you couldn’t ignore the blood dripping from his side, and you dropped to your knees in front of him, pulling him up to lean against the wall of a building. 

“Y/n…” The man’s eyebrows fell as he watched you tear your outer garment, gathering a long strip suitable for wrapping his torso. You huffed, looking back up at him— at those pearly eyes that you always got lost in.

“I don’t care if they were trying to ambush me; you should’ve stuck to the plan. We barely made it out of there with what we needed,” You grunted out. Usually Eric was more organised than anyone on the team. It was unlike him to break protocol.

“You really think that I care about some stupid stolen resources over your safety? What if you had gotten attacked? What if they had tried to kidnap you?” Eric had intended to stay calm and diffuse the situation, but he let his brazenness seep into his tone. You heard it loud and clear, the worry his words carried. 

“I can handle myself, you know,” You sighed, pulling the fabric of his shirt up to get access to the wound. You had seen Eric sustain worse, but you hated knowing he had gotten hurt on your behalf. 

“Against multiple grown men? I wasn’t willing to risk that.” 

You knew Eric meant exactly what he said. You couldn’t change his mind on the issue, nor could you go back and stop him from acting brashly. You didn’t try to add anything else to the conversation, focusing all your attention on his bleeding body instead. 

Eric slid the left sleeve of his shirt off, uncovering half of his torso for you to work on. You started by dabbing the excess blood and pouring some of the extra water you had on hand over it. Eric hissed, trying his best to stay still under the sting. You held out your empty hand, slipping Eric’s fingers with yours without saying a word; your face expressionless. 

You worked in silence, the only sound being Eric’s rare whimpers of pain as he squeezed your hand tightly. The wound was wrapped up sufficiently to your liking within a few minutes. You stood up, Eric following suit with your help.

“I know you hate to see me in danger, but you know it goes both ways, right? At least tell me what your plans are beforehand. I don’t want to lose track of you again. If I don’t know where you are—”

Eric cut off your blathering with a mumbled “I know” as he wrapped his arms around your body, holding you close to his chest. You let out a breath, half in frustration, half in relief. From the closeness, you could smell his scent, feel the steady rhythm of his heart in his chest, and feel his warm breath each time he exhaled. It was his way of reminding you that he was still alive and with you, even if he had acted recklessly. 

You let yourself sink in his arms, gripping at his clothes to hold him even closer. Eric wished he could always hold you this close; always have you in his arms, without having to worry everyday about your safety. But, neither of you were allowed that luxury. Instead, you clung to each moment you could safely spare to be in each other’s arms. Holding, kissing, whispering promises of another life together. It was exhausting— grim, at times— but Eric made every hour you sacrificed fighting worth it. You fought for him. 

the boyz taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,,

@lecheugo,, @seunghancore,, @recordsfilm,, @bananabubble,, @cupidslovearrows,,

@hursheys,, @gong-fourz,, @arafilez

[irlvernon-moved]

ERIC Honey

[ericscroptop]

You Got All Of My Attention

✧ pairing: bf! eric x gf! reader

✦ genre: fluffy smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, p!rn without plot, dry/wet humping, self-conscious reader about weight for a small portion of this fic but this fic isn’t centered around that and weight is not specified, cursing, teasing, kissing, so much grinding, oral— female receiving towards the end, handjob towards the end, marking, dirty talk, praising/praise kink, pet names, fluff, small aftercare

✦ word count: 6.9k words

✧ synopsis: touching each other sweetly and hotly is one of your favorite forms of communication.

✦ note: let’s all take a moment to appreciate pink eric bc i love pink eric sm— live laugh love pink ‘ric

also— *insert that one tweet where someone said they hope dry humping becomes the next pandemic*

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“What should I put on?” Eric voices to you from the living room with the TV remote within his grasp, eyes scanning through the various movies and shows on you guys’ favorite streaming service.

“Put on our comfort movie!” you answer from the kitchen, putting away leftovers from tonight’s dinner.

He knows exactly what you mean, and so his fingers press on the respective buttons of the control, navigating to find said comfort movie to play.

Once it’s successfully playing, he parks his rear on the couch. He folds his arms back, elbows up and hands behind his head. His thighs instinctively spread out as he leans his head back on the sofa pillows, eyes fluttering closed due to the comfort of the cushions and full-belly from dinner that has left him satisfied.

Meanwhile, you quickly finish cleaning up and strut gleefully towards the couch. You meet with your boyfriend, his eyes still shut, looking so laid-back and madly handsome in his loungewear— light grey joggers and a black fitted tank top.

You don’t hesitate in taking a seat right next to him, plopping yourself over the cushion and bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them.

The couch dipping causes his left eye to open while his eyebrow on the same side raises, corners of his lips tugging upwards now that you’ve joined him.

“Tired?” you question.

“A little, but I still wanna hangout with you for a bit before bed.” his voice comes out in a slight lower pitch.

You hummed in response. His eyes fully absorb your curled-up figure. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts, and it’s big enough to swallow a decent portion of your body. When standing up, it covers your bottom. But in this current position you’re in, your (his) shirt has bunched up enough to give him a glimpse of your seamless cheeky boy shorts.

It was common for you to roam around the house like that. Short-shorts or panties with an oversized t-shirt.

Still, his heart— and even his dick— swelled with various intense feelings. Love tied with lust mainly. As much as he appreciated the effort you would put into dolling yourself up and enhancing your features from time to time, he appreciated just as much when you wore casual clothing.

Especially when it was his clothing. God, how could you look so cute and simultaneously sexy while wearing his t-shirt?

There was a sense of pride that raised his ego when you would dress in his clothing. You wearing his shirt may not seem like anything special to some. But to him, it was a subtle form of intimacy.

You were comfortable with being engulfed in his clothes, and he always insisted on sharing his clothes without hesitation. To the point where you would find yourself in his closet picking through his wardrobe, and even having favorites that you both knew all too well.

Endearment resides inside his heart seeing you so carefree in his shirt, all relaxed, cute, and comfy. There’s something about that loose t-shirt of his that has been imbued plenty of times with his deodorant, cologne, body wash, sweat, laundry detergent, etc., and you wearing it, choosing to be protected by his scent.

Each of your scents would mix together, and it just tied your bond closer. As well as how you felt so safe around him to walk around in your underwear or lazy attire. It was so vulnerable since you always dressed up otherwise— or felt self-conscious occasionally in public.

But with Eric, he was that special person that got to see all forms and sides of you. He was the lucky guy that you trusted beyond words, who you loved enough to be home-free snuggled up in his shirt.

It was beyond adorable seeing you snug like a bug in a rug like this. Though, he can’t help himself in getting the hots for you in his clothes, too.

His shirt over your body was a mark of territory. It was not only a gesture that embodied values of love and connection, but it was also very possessive in a way. It’s like you’re wrapping yourself in his love, and something that has also caressed his skin, now caresses yours.

It doesn’t help that you chose to pair his shirt with solely panties. And, you’re braless underneath.

Your current attire leaves room for his imagination to roam freely, thinking about your bare body underneath, and how you’re his sweet girl, looking so dainty in his shirt swallowing you.

Fuck. The dinner you two had left him stuffed, but you’re currently working up his appetite again. He has the urge to bite your cheeks and squeeze your body out of fondness, as well as kiss you until you’re breathless and feel you up shamelessly until you’re squirming and surrender to his touches.

Your eyes are currently trained on the screen, embracing your legs tightly while focused on one of your favorite scenes you’ve watched over a dozen times.

This makes him frown unconsciously, wondering why you didn’t immediately jump your bones on him as soon as you sat down on the couch. Your attention is caught elsewhere. I mean, you did want to watch a movie together. But you could at least be cuddled up in his arms. Why hug yourself when he’s right here?

You say something aloud to your boyfriend, but Eric doesn’t catch it, too busy sulking mentally at the fact that your body wasn’t close enough to be touching his own.

His lack of response makes your facial features shift into a concerned expression, looking over at him in question.

It is then that you see him appear a bit petulant. He doesn’t realize he’s pouting, brows slightly creased as he’s lost in his pettish, whiny thoughts.

Although his lip protrudes naturally, his lips are pushed forward more emphasized than usual. It makes him look rather cute, honestly. You have to push back your instinct to coo at him to instead, question what is the reason for that frowny look on his face.

“Eric? What’s wrong?” you query, perplexed by his down-looking appearance.

The ring of you saying his name hitting his ears gets him to perk up, features softening once he makes eye contact with you.

His heart is practically melting, and he can’t wait any longer to openly display his affection for you. He’s gonna take matters into his own hands.

“C’mere.” he motions with both his hands to come closer to him.

Your eyebrows raise in curiosity as you inch closer until your shoulders are basically touching, making that pout on his lips reappear once you stop since you deem that as close enough— but not in Eric’s mind.

He takes it upon himself to hoist you onto his lap, leaving you to panic at the sudden act.

“What— Eric! That tickles! What are you—”

“There we go.” he interrupts your frantic spouts of words. He spreads his legs enough to get you comfortable, adjusting your body to straddle him and holds you by the hips.

Heat blossoms in your cheeks and your body stiffens from being caught off guard, now seated right over your boyfriend.

Your arms immediately wrapped around his neck to keep yourself secure, and you felt a bit tensed-up.

Even though Eric loved getting handsy with you because you were too lovely to ignore, and you two have been dating for awhile now that you should be used to his impulsive urges of getting you onto his lap— for instance, it would get you all bashful.

Right now, you were conscious of your weight over his lap, hoping you didn’t make him feel uncomfortable in bearing your body in this sitting position. You also were mindful of any movement you could make, knowing you could accidentally hurt him or it be sensitive.

But he just smiled at you with a beautiful twinkle present in his eyes, pleased to be this intimate with you. Him wanting and guiding you on his lap is his display of physical affection and emotional connection towards you.

“Such a pretty baby over my lap, hm.” he speaks sweetly to you, which is second nature for him. He tucks a strand of loose hair that got in the way of your face, behind your ear to soak in your facial features with clarity while he cooed at you.

“Eric.” you whined and drew out his name with a shy chuckle. His eyes continued to scan all over your features, absorbing them admiringly, leaving you sheepish from the spotlight on you.

His staring initiates you to look away on impulse, but his movements are faster. Before you know it, his dominant hand grabs hold of your jaw gently, prompting your eyes and lips to widen slightly.

“Let me appreciate my girl, yeah?” he utters, beginning to thumb your cheek affectionately to ease you up.

His words continue to leave you flustered. Your tummy feels like butterflies are fluttering around wildly, and a spark of heat bursts all over your body.

A soft smile adorned his features, thumb still stroking your cheek. All that was in his mind was how you’re the prettiest girl in the world. Solely focused on how you’re dangerously close in proximity to him, engulfed in his scent.

Eric was such a flirt, always direct in showing you how he wants you. And although he liked toying with you for amusement, his actions were also because you were too seductive and irresistible to ignore.

He loved your cute reactions when he complimented you or touched you. He knows you also feel strongly for him, but you were just too shy sometimes to initiate touches, accept compliments, or even with simply maintaining eye contact.

“I like having you close like this.” he announces before chasing one of your cheeks with his lips, making your face scrunch up cutely from the incoming kiss as he dots his lips just over the apple of it.

You’re overwhelmed with various emotions that leave you feeling like mush from his lovey-dovey behavior. When he pulls back, his hands rub your sides soothingly through the fabric of your shirt, making you remember how your weight sat right over him.

“Are you comfy like this? I don’t wanna sit here for too long if—”

He cuts you off with a tsk, in disbelief that you’re even asking him that when he’s the one who pulled you over him.

“Always feels good when you’re in my arms. You rarely sit over me like this. Never wanna let you go.” he speaks lowly, reassuring that you’re fine just where you’re at by wrapping his hands fully around you. He engulfs you into a hug, his chin pressing against your shoulder, making your cheeks squish together.

One of his hands inches lower to your rear, cupping the area protectively, out of fondness.

Your beautiful form and scents right in front of him was such a rush and provided solace to his senses.

You felt the same way. This warm cuddle session was so heartening that your boyfriend cared about you. This moment of togetherness was peaceful, bringing you feelings of tranquility.

It felt good to be loved explicitly. Being indulged constantly with both physical and verbal reminders that Eric cherishes you.

You decide to reciprocate that reassuring physical affection by plopping your lips over his temple, allowing your lips to linger a bit atop his skin while strands of his hair tickled your nose.

The aroma of his hair care products hits your nostrils, making you hum, comforted by his signature scents.

You pull back soon to check out your boyfriend’s face. His face is sitting pretty with a grinning gaze written over him.

Taking advantage of this proximity, you inspect his features worshipfully.

His gleaming eyes blink at you curiously, eyeing the way your own pupils scan over him.

During your gawking, your mind and eyes appreciate all the handsome features of your lover: The small mole on his left waterline. His high nose bridge. The crescent-shaped scar next to the corner of his mouth on his right side. His full bottom lip. All of his details were exquisitely crafted, leaving a face that should have a portrait in The Louvre.

As beautiful of a person he is on the inside, his outside is equally as beautiful.

There’s silence for a minute or so as he allows you to stare at him. He wanted to bask in this moment of you eyeing him up close for a bit, since it was rare that you’d allow yourself to stare openly like this without growing shy quickly.

His mouth stretches into a sly smile, finding you so charming in this moment. It’s also gratifying watching the way you look at him. Almost like you’re in awe of him, so fixated on him.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” he cocks his head slightly back, still smiling.

You know he secretly finds this amusing, making you let out a small giggle, eyes shying away for a second before returning to him. Your left hand sinks its way into his scalp, threading through his pink strands with your fingers.

“You’re just so pretty. Really handsome, ‘ric.” you voice, face vibrant as you continue eyeing him.

Your words make Eric chuckle. He rubs your body tenderly, enjoying this moment of you candidly admitting aloud to him how attractive he is.

Of course, he already knows how you feel about him. But hearing it aloud makes him feel validated— especially when you specifically called him pretty.

Pretty is traditionally associated with femininity and daintiness, and so as a man, it wasn’t common to be complimented with that word.

But he loves it. It’s so flattering, plus soft and sweet. He wallows in you giving him the highest form of compliments. Hearing his girl praise him with honeyed words left his face glowing, cheeks beginning to blush slightly. You make him feel more beautiful and better about himself.

An endeared little grin stumbles over his features. He has to hold himself back from wanting to bite your delicate cheeks out of his own cute aggression towards you. So instead, he settles for a little teasing.

“Am I now?”

He decides to squeeze one of your sides, resulting in you doing your best in not squirming due to the tingly stir your core and skin feel from his playful touch.

A small noise leaves your throat, a mix between a giggle and whimper. It’s quick though, and you let out a scoff right after, shaking your head a bit.

“As if you don’t know.” you muttered.

“Tch,” he makes that sound in turn and licks his lips, “I love it when it comes from you, though.”

“It’s so sweet to hear that my baby finds me pretty.” he purrs. You don’t miss seeing his pupils lower to leer over your lips.

Your arms clutched more tightly around his neck, afraid you would turn into jelly and tumble over as a result of his flirtatious behavior.

It’s all getting to you: Your arms around his neck, clinging onto him. The conversations shared with your breath so closed to one another. Your body seated over his, lips and faces millimeters apart. Him referring to you as ‘his baby.’ The mere sound of his voice.

Eric is practically tempting and inviting you to love up on him. You want to communicate your intense romantic feelings for him without words. Your vision darts to his mouth, then up to meet his gaze. Desire coats your orbs, and Eric takes notice of it, as it’s mirroring his own.

“Gimmie kiss.” he pleads with that velvety voice of his.

Before you know it, your lips end up meeting with a soft, gentle caress.

Your lips brush together in a slow, tender rhythm. Each other’s noses graze past jointly, engrossed in chasing the familiar taste of one another.

Suddenly you’re hooked and spaced off Eric’s mouth moving in sync with your own. Your fingers card through his hair while his own hands still reside over your hips, smoothing over your clothed torso.

Bliss washes all over you. The loving touches and brushing of lips are extremely addicting, keeping you both to continue with your movements, kisses deepening.

Just a couple tastes of his lips has you aching for more. Listening to each other’s breathing and feeling your bodies pressed tightly together is like fuel to the fire growing inside of you.

Even more so when suddenly you feel something growing and growing underneath you— that something being your boyfriend’s cock.

You withdraw your lips from his with a smacking sound and a slight moan. This prompts Eric to open his eyes, looking worked-up from the hot embrace you’ve shared.

He hunts for your lips for more, but you don’t give him a chance to kiss you again. Instead, you attend to his jawline with your mouth, running fleeting kisses along the sharp profile.

That makes him stunned, swallowing hard with his eyes shutting once again, allowing you to move your lips affectionately over his skin.

Your hormones are getting to you. You had the instinct to drag your lips over his sensitive spots, letting him be praised for his existence with your mouth.

Your kisses pepper down along his neck, causing Eric to writhe underneath you and softly groan. Especially when you hit that sweet spot of his.

You can’t restrain from smiling when he angles his neck to give you better access, and feel him start to grip at your shirt.

Kissing his neck has him raging inside. He’s going feral for you with the way you’re seated over him, kissing one of the most sensitive parts of his body.

He can’t handle being sensually loved like this for too long without him wanting to reciprocate that same energy at a greater volume.

“Baby…” he groans, making you hum against his skin, pussy pulsing at the sound of his gravelly voice.

“Look at me.” he adds when you don’t stop.

That gets your attention, so you retreat from his neck.

You flip your hair back and your heart is pumping rapidly in anticipation once you meet his eyes. They look loaded with lust, and it’s definitely a fact when he leans suddenly into your neck, mouth latching onto your skin in an instant.

A gasp leaps from you when you feel your skin pulled slightly into his lips, trapping the area.

He starts sucking intensely, and then releases every now and then to scatter kisses all over.

He’s dominating you now. His mouth travels all across your neck, even grazing his teeth over one of your earlobes and tonguing at the flesh.

Your senses are heightened, majorly aroused from being attended to.

Lost in the feeling, your hands travel to his back, finding themselves creep underneath his black tank, nails pressing into his skin due to how hooked he’s got you.

One of his hands cradles the nape of your neck, keeping you firm to his liking. When his mouth lands on the front of your throat, the slight pressure he gives your skin with his teeth gets you all tingly all the way down south. It’s impulsive for you to shift and jerk your hips down into him while he abuses your neck eagerly.

Your reactions make Eric release a breathy laugh. He always gets a kick out of worshipping his girl. Delicate moans leave your mouth. Dirty, but delicate. Hearing your noises is such a treat, sweet to his senses.

His hard cock getting butted by your cute bum cheeks is tantalizing the fuck out of him. It’s getting too hot to handle, but he wants more of it.

And it also seems like you’re seeking for more.

“Wanna hump me? Is that what you want?” he rasps out, continuing to work deliberately in painting love bites on you.

When the smutty question hits your ears, you whimper from a combination of neediness and meekness. You’re sure a pink tint colors your cheeks.

His lips remove from your neck due to your lack of words, eyes immediately searching for yours.

You start gnawing on your lower lip, trying to hold back on any more whiny noises while he kneads your thighs and hips, only teasing you more.

“Tell me what you want and i’ll give it to you, princess. Whatever you want, I want it, too.” His eyes are soft, but still radiate a provocative, thirsty look.

“I want this… wanna rub against you, just like this.” you vocalized and blinked shyly. It’s undeniable that you’ve been possessed by the horny gods. And so, you painfully needed stimulation towards your cunt— with the help of your beautiful boyfriend who is the reason why you’ve gone horny.

He gives you a broad smile, proud and pleased to hear you verbalize what you want— even if he had to encourage you to do so.

One activity that is one of your absolute favorites is dry humping. It does great service for you as it’s effective stimulation. Rubbing over and over that golden area of your sex felt euphoric and gratifying. Especially if you were rubbing yourself over your boyfriend’s body parts, expressing how turned on he got you.

The build up, tension, setting the mood, and losing yourself in the craving for more was extremely addictive sexual gratification.

For Eric personally, watching you make yourself feel good and full of eagerness to satisfy your needs is a high better than any drug out there.

Although sometimes it leaves him sore for a bit, he’d do anything to hear and see you sexually worked up. It also was like heaven for him, feeling his pretty girl wildly fuck herself over his crotch, allowing each of your bottoms to become marinated in lubrication and precum. It’s so dirty but hot.

His hands travel underneath your shirt, fingers roaming over your bare sides and middle. That causes you to suck in a breath, feeling ticklish to the direct skin contact for a second before you’re inflamed to squeeze your cunt against his bulge.

“Raise ‘em up for me, baby.” he instructs.

And you know the drill, raising your arms gleefully and allowing him to uncover your torso.

He readily removes and tosses your shirt to the ground. Your breasts sit bare now, staring directly at Eric.

His mouth is practically watering at the sight. He loves when you put on his clothes, but he also loves when you take it off to unveil your precious body. Bonus points if he’s the one taking it off you, just like right now.

“So beautiful.” he murmurs, so mesmerized.

Your pussy flutters from the flattery. You’re even more heated sexually and from your cheeks now that your upper body is naked.

Eric attempts to put his hand on one of your mounds, but you stop him with your own before he even has the chance, much to his dismay.

A confused expression is present on his face until you position his arms upwards, indicating that you wanted him to remove his top as well before you two got into it.

“Your turn.” you say cheekily, your boyfriend smirking in exchange and permits you to remove his shirt for him.

And so it’s off swiftly, upper body bare with a glimpse of his Calvin briefs, waistband visible.

“How the fuck are you so hot, Eric?” you practically moan out shamelessly, letting your hands explore his biceps and eyes to wander fervidly around his abdomen. His muscles flex as your hands and eyes roam over him, face smug.

“So vocal with praising me today.” Such a sweet girl.” his hands rub your thigh and the small of your back gingerly, tickled pink from your verbal and physical reactions to him.

He makes every inch of you tingle. You knead at his biceps intimately, touching him to show your cosmic appreciation and attraction for him.

Now that you’re both topless, he reaches towards your chest, not being stopped this time. You allow him to grab hold of your tits. His hands fondle and slightly bounce your breasts within his grapple.

“Love holding my girls.” he breathes out, relishing in how they hung and sat in his palms.

You continue to grip onto his arms as he touches your sensitive breasts, pussy pulsing from pleasure and desire.

You rut your clothed sex down into his crotch, sex aching for stimulation.

The delicious weight of you on top of his throbbing cock has him sighing wistfully. He needs more of you, and so, he encircles one of your nipples with his mouth, suckling gently, which makes you shakily breathe out and arch up into him.

You reposition your arms to wrap around his neck, keeping him close and steady.

His mouth persists in showing his full admiration to the beauty you possess with his lips and tongue, making shapes and sucking with intent.

He has you rocking your hips and dragging your core uncontrollably. You’re becoming cross-faded from his vigorous attention to your tits and off the nice feeling of his boner pressing against you.

You tug at his hair, displaying how strung-out he’s got you. It makes him growl while he’s busy stuffing his mouth with your chest.

He takes you pulling his hair as an invitation to advance back to your lips.

He rises from your breasts, searching for your mouth and locks his lips with your own fiercely.

The way he kisses you is ardent, and you don’t miss a beat in kissing him back with the same urgency.

“Mmmphh…” you whimpered as he slips his tongue in and brushes it against your own. You take every move he gives you well, reciprocating that same energy.

Your hand made a fist into his hair, fingers clutching hard and stimulating his scalp, too caught up in the way his lips stroked and engulfed yours.

He responds to your thrilling grasp with a slight-little tug on your bottom lip. You persist with your grinding as you two share wild and unrestrained kisses. The pain-mixed-pleasure from his nibbles and hard cock prodding your aching pussy has you in utter ecstasy.

Eric is equally as overwhelmed in excitement. He starts to push his hips up to meet your movements, then is greeted by your lips parting from his own, hushed gasps releasing from you as a result.

The reaction from you gets him to smirk, seeing you all stupefied just from his clothed cock knocking into your clothed pussy.

After a couple gasps, you attempt to revert back to his lips again but he dodges you, too amused in seeing how worked up you’ve become.

You try to kiss him again and he only allows each of your lips to faintly graze together before ripping himself away.

“Stop teasing me.” you whined breathlessly, still trying to plant your lips over his but he continues to give you nothing. He only allows your features to sweep lightly.

He grins mischievously, too struck on the pouted look on your face. It’s adorable seeing you get so riled up. He couldn’t help it. You were so fun to play with.

Though, it’s funny until your ruts into his manhood grow stronger. Your frustration has you increasing the downward thrust of your pelvis, making Eric groan and shut his eyes instantaneously.

You whimper pathetically while you grind and bounce into him. Eric bites his lip and his hands start to grip at your hips, swamped in how the friction applied is too divine for his cock.

While straddling him, you’re free to control the speed and intensity of your motions. You’ve got this animalistic desire to satisfy your moist, hot pussy and get you and your boyfriend off.

Something about fucking into him with clothed bottoms, no penetration, and greedy humps is beyond intimate, filthy, and desperate. It fueled you with passion, love, and lust for him.

Pants and moans exchange galore, and you’re still grinding down enthusiastically, all frenzied trying to reach climax. Though, Eric doesn’t want you going too hard in this position. Usually he’s the one being dominant, and he doesn’t want you to hurt yourself like this even if it feels good.

“Fuck, babe… Easy girl., easy.” he breathes, getting you to slow down and halt your movements.

With heavy breaths and mewls, you do stop and he finally gives you the kisses he withheld from you as a reward. You happily kiss him, clutching onto him like you never want to let go.

“Lie on your back for me, princess. I’ll make you cum, don’t worry.” he mumbles over your lips, sending sparks to your cunt.

And so you do as told, sadly separating from his lap but ready for whatever new pleasure he was about to give you. You lie back on the couch, looking at him from a new angle.

Eric then starts to tug off his joggers, now leaving you both in just your underwear.

Your eyes are heavy lidded, and your hands and legs roam promiscuously, waiting for his next move within the couple seconds he takes.

Your breath is stuck in your throat when he leans down over your body, now caged by him.

Your heart’s simultaneously beating rapidly and swimming in passion when he leans his lips towards your nose, pressing his lips against the tip of it.

His cutesy gesture is soothing and has you smiling fondly. It distracts you from this spicy position you’re in for only a tiny moment. In a flash, his manhood and hips push into you, making you moan loudly at the feeling.

Eric moans alongside you. With his pants off, you can feel his manhood better. The thinner the barrier, the stronger the sensation.

He quickly falls into a rhythm while humping into you. Eric has always had better stamina and energy than you. Straddling him and having you uber close in his lap is utterly perfect, but desperately bucking into you missionary style is also amazing.

Getting to control the pace and seeing you underneath him and vice versa felt so primal. He can’t abstain from diving into your neck to start marking you up some more. Fine bites and kisses are scattered across the skin he’s able to reach, still rocking himself into you.

It’s all so dizzying. It’s hard to think coherently when surrendering to his lusty affection. Your body feels inexplicably good like this. All you can do is weakly pant and mewl, inherently arching your back.

His hips rock and slide against yours in gushing lust. Rutting into you in this angle has his manhood roaring with ferocity. His movements provide pleasurable pressure against your clit and better direct sensations across your entire sex.

The strokes of his clothed shaft and head against your panty-covered pussy is delectable. A wet patch formed on Eric’s briefs where he strained against the material, and your panties were also past damp. Your soaked underwear mingled with his own, providing such a beautiful sensation.

Watching your boyfriend rub into you and listening to his ragged breaths is driving you crazy. Not to mention the obvious clit-centric pleasure you’re receiving.

The more he humps into you and drops kisses over your face, lips, and tits, the more tense you become.

You feel your muscles starting to contract involuntarily. You’re flushed all over and there’s a concentrated sensation in your groin.

“Eric…” you breathlessly warn, knowing you’re on the verge of cumming in your panties.

And he too knows immediately and gets the hint. He wants you to release freely and not ruin your underwear with your fluids more than already is.

So he inches down and you raise your hips, allowing him to pull down and off your saturated bottoms.

You jolt as he unexpectedly dives his face into your pussy without warning. I mean— you should’ve known he would start eating you out to finish you off. Your man was a munch.

He messily kisses your wet cunt. His hands keep your legs spread open while he starts lapping and sweeping his tongue into every inch of your pussy possible.

“Oh fuck, Eric!” you cry a high pitched moan, face contorted from his wet muscle gladly screwing your cunt.

He grunts raveningly as he slurps at your folds and wetness, not hiding from making noise to show you how prized your pussy is to him.

It’s all toe curling, and your eyes are practically watering from how good he’s making you feel.

It hits you hard when his tongue lands on your clit, licking your swollen nub and eventually sucking on it.

“Oh my god, Eric! Eric!” you cry out again, hands finding themselves in his hair and holding on for dear life. His hold on your legs tightens while he keeps toying with your nub, ready for you to cum on his face any second now.

You spout various sounds as your core snaps and it’s pulsing, clear fluid finally flowing out.

He’s still tending to your clit when you burst, his chin and mouth glistening wet with your secretions. Your legs are basically numb, body trembling and muscles still contracting.

“That’s it, baby! That’s my girl.” he heaves out a praise, pulling away from your sensitive clit to sweetly kiss one of your thighs for being so wonderful.

Within seconds though, his mouth is back on your sex, lathering his tongue with your juices.

He avariciously drinks up his honey, cleaning you up real good. Meanwhile, you’re whimpering weakly, lightheaded post-orgasm. You let him lick your fluids, eventually whining repeatedly when it becomes too much and you realize how sensitive you’ve become to where it’s torturous for him to keep messing with your cunt.

Your whines wake him up from his pussy daze and he backs off. At then he is aware again of how awfully hard his throbbing cock is, begging for relief under his briefs.

You each are trying to catch your breaths. You’re lying limp while Eric can’t seem to ignore his bulging veins and the heaviness between his legs.

“Can you help me cum, princess?” he voices desperately with pleading eyes.

You’ve grown weary now that you’ve been satisfied but you can’t ignore your poor, sweet boyfriend, who has yet to cum himself. He needed some help, and you were going to give it to him.

You pull your right arm up, gesturing that you needed help to sit up. You weakly smile as he carefully pulls you up, groaning quietly as a result of your sore and swollen bare pussy.

A hand of yours creeps over one of his thighs, patting him compassionately while he begins to caress the small of your back.

You make him suck in a breath and then grunt when you redirect your hand to start massaging his stained, damp crotch.

“I bet it hurts, doesn’t it?” you pouted teasingly, enjoying the way he’s trying to control himself under your touch.

“Let me fuck your hand— please.” he airily moans, beginning to jerk into your palm.

Always impatient, you think to yourself. You can’t blame him though. Teasing and waiting for stimulation was always excruciating. He deserved what he wanted after helping you cum like the good boyfriend he is.

Your fingers move to tug at his underwear, and he promptly adjusts his position to remove them fully. His cock immediately slaps up against his abdomen, making him sigh out from his manhood finally being free.

The sight of his rosy cock has your pussy tingling for the nth time today. You can’t even get a word out before he reaches for your dominant hand and guides it to his cock.

You both gasp in chorus when your hand wrapped around his grips at his manhood. His hand doesn’t detach. Instead, he guides your hand slowly up and down his shaft.

Your lips part as you feel the warmth of his cock radiating from all the blood rushing within it. A breathy laugh comes out of Eric, causing you to dart your gaze up to look at him. The tip of his tongue sticks out from the corner of his mouth, luxuriating in the sensation of your soft, slightly smaller hand jacking him off.

Despite you knowing how to give him a hand job well on your own, he still keeps his hand over yours. Something about holding and guiding your hand while you touched his private parts was such a turn-on. It was indeed intimate, and only connected you two more. He refused to let go of you.

“Feels so fuckin’ good, babe.” he rasps.

Hearing his low voice, seeing him all weak and vulnerable, and touching his cock has you squeezing your cunt. Aiding him in masturbating is so yummy. He was fully naked in front of you with his pink hair, pink cheeks, and pink cock. God bless Eric and his beautiful form. You are beyond lucky to be here with him, and the only person that gets to do this to him.

“So hot and pretty for me.” you worshiped, squeezing his cock just a bit more, which gets him to moan loudly, harmonic to your ears. You love that he is always so vocal.

Your strokes are gentle and hard throughout. Both of you have your mouths dumbly ajar, moaning while your fists moved up and down together.

It doesn’t take long for the pace to build up, jerking him relentlessly. He’s panting nonstop, and you decide to add more stimulation onto him by using your free hand to grab his balls.

That’s the ticket for him. He hisses and calls out your name brokenly. You cup them, rubbing them and gently massaging his weighty sac. Your other hand continues to jerk him with his hand still steering yours. Getting his cock rubbed by his girl fully naked is sending him straight to heaven; he can’t seem to calm down.

“Cum for me, Eric. Wanna make my pretty boy cum. Need it.” you egg him on with your sweet voice begging. You even start to thumb at the looser skin of his sac between the balls, playfully tugging at it.

He throws his head back and moans harshly at that, followed by whiny whimpers. “Fucking hell, Y/n!” he pants.

You continue to encourage and coo at him to let it all out. When he finally can’t take it anymore and he’s ready to blow, he removes your hand from his shaft rather madly, and then he starts jacking off by himself to begin pumping out his seed.

Since he was face-deep in your pussy when you came, you believe you should return the favor by allowing him to cum all over your face, too. Plus, you knew he loathed when his orgasms didn’t involve cumming on or in you.

You stick your tongue out gladly, your eyes seductive and inviting him to make a mess out of you.

He looks at you and you’re the definition of a real-life fantasy. He can’t believe that you’re real, presenting yourself like this behind closed doors.

The tightening, tickling, and tingling sensation that rises from his balls and through his cock, finally catches up to him. He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he rolls his eyes back, releasing and squeezing his cock head to shoot several ropes of hot cum all over your face.

A gasp jumps out of you when you at last feel his seed land on you, eyes shutting instantly. Your tongue stays out, graciously humming and accepting whatever you can catch, swallowing it proudly.

Some of his viscous substance lands on your cheeks, forehead, and even your hair. Your heart’s racing at the feeling of being splattered with cum, eyes squinting open to catch a glimpse of his post-orgasm expression.

He grunts until he gets every drop out, sighing out when he’s reached empty. As he recovers, he’s breathing heavily, eyeing your gorgeous face he made a mess out of while he regains his composure.

His fingers then come forward to collect the cum that missed your tongue to redirect it all in your mouth. You allow him to feed you his essence, sucking and licking his fingers eagerly, puppy-eyed while you stare at him, making him bite his lip with a smirk.

“You’re such a good girl for me, baby. Fucking hell.” he manages to speak after his powerful release, removing his fingers and pulling you into his lap once again for a kiss.

Your naked bodies press and rest together while you kiss one another warmly. The lovely, mellow kisses leave you each relaxed, comforting one another after smutty doings.

Once you two separate lips, he kisses all over your face a couple times, making you happy to be loved like this.

Your hands smooth over his chest, noticing it blushing red after cumming.

“You okay?” Eric asks gently, snuggling you in his arms.

You nod at his chest. “I should be asking you that. You were having the time of your life, huh?” you snickered.

“Says the one who started humping the fuck out of me. Such a horny girl.” he pinched at one of your sides playfully, getting you to yelp and squirm from the ticklish feeling.

You grasped his wrist so he can instead hold your hand. Your hands clasped together, giving his own a gentle squeeze.

“Learned it from the master himself.” you mumble, getting Eric to chuckle.

“Man, we’re both nasty.” he whistles, caressing your spine with his free hand.

You laugh and leave a kiss on his chest, then squeeze yourself into him, taking advantage of the current proximity, allowing him to hold you tight.

“Wouldn’t wanna get nasty with anyone else.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[sanaxo-o]

BF! Texts with Eric Sohn

Genre/warnings: fluff, smau, reader is sick but still goes to work

Sana: I am back (sort of) hopefully I write something for Halloween. Enjoy. Also a request from my dearest @bella-feed.

POV: you’re sick and he just wants to take care of you

Tagging: @cloverdaisies @mosviqu @kimsohn @dalliesque @bella-feed @a-dream-bookmark @deoboyznet @k-films

[sohnric]

gold stars – e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: friends (idiots) to lovers au. fluff. a sprinkle of hurt/comfort in some parts, a hint of college au!!

wc: 9.3k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mention of toxic family behaviors, a joke about a praise kink. eric is an embarrassing loserboy but i love him sm

listen to: risk by gracie abrams

where everything eric sohn does is search for your approval, and where you reward him with a gold star sticker for every act of kindness. will you ever see him as more than just a friend?

a/n: thank you best friend @csenke for beta reading as always (i miss you deeply btw</33). also thank you @from-izzy for brainstorming with me and listening to me while i gushed about this silly fic idea. thanks @strayed-quokka lennon for giving me eric's insta username idea i will keep using it from now on in all fics AHAHA TT

If Eric was asked to pinpoint the exact moment where he started to rely on your validation, he wouldn’t really be sure of his answer. The truth is, somewhere deep inside of his soul, he knows the yearning has been there ever since he can remember, but the instance that is rooted in his memory as the core one– the one that made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, like a teenager in love for the first time (which he wasn’t! Nor a teenager, not in love for the first time… right..?) – was one Thursday afternoon after he came home from taking his last exam of the semester to find a message from you waiting in his Instagram DMs. 

Breathlessly clicking at the notification (and now, this should’ve been a sign of his growing feelings for you), he is welcomed with the sight of you sharing a post with him. Wholesome, but still a little silly, a picture of a yellow star poorly drawn onto a white background waves at him, the words ‘congratulation the stress didnt abolsultly kill u’ written in the Comic Sans font on the inside, making him giggle. Despite the typos and the poor grammar, his heart squeezes on itself, shaking his head at your adorable antics as he shoots you a quick message as a thank you. You’ve been helping him with the studies for the last couple of weeks (if constantly yelling out “you will murder this exam, Sohn’ and laughing at his miserable face counts as support), so it’s even more heartwarming to see his friend still be so supportive of him even after the hell already ended.

@ damnsohn [5:11 PM]: thank u i will now need to receive gold stars for everything tho

And see, he wasn’t really thinking before sending that message. He just needed to convey his gratitude without sounding too overly eager– without sounding too infatuated with your sheer existence and the validation of his efforts. (Failed)

What he didn’t expect was for you to actually follow up on his request. 

To make things even better, you pulled through with physical reminders. The poorly drawn golden star landing into his Instagram DMs was just the start of the habit you fall into with Eric Sohn, the man whose love language is words of affirmation– without him even realizing it. And so, what started out as a wholesome, innocent joke, now turned into a recurring thing that is slowly, but surely making the boy go absolutely insane.

The first time he receives a physical golden star sticker is one day when he comes over to your place to watch a movie with you. You made a list full of iconic films you haven’t seen before– a list you get clowned for at first dates with any man that is pretentious enough to talk about his love for Quentin Tarantino (Eric told you to stop going on dates with the aesthetic, ‘indie’ looking men you find on Tinder) – and little by little, you try to get through it with the help of the rest of your friend group. Since everyone gets bored easily of mediocre films they’ve seen before, Eric is the one that spends the majority of movie nights with you– and that’s only because he’s the only one that doesn’t mind watching the Titanic for the fifth time already, if it means he can spend some time with you.

“You brought popcorn?” you gasp upon his arrival, gazing at the plastic bag in his hold, eyes big and full of stars– one would say you were looking at your first love. You weren’t– it was just a salty treat. Isn’t that every girl’s first love, though?

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Pre-popped?” 

“Pre-popped,” he agrees as he takes off his shoes behind the door, watching as you jump up and down in excitement, taking the big bag out of his hands.

“I like it pre-popped the best, oh my god,” you hum, hugging the huge bag like it’s a teddy bear, going as far as pushing your cheek against it, making your face turn into an adorable pout. “They are a little stale and softer and–”

“And the salt is really settled into it’, yeah, I know, Y/N,” he snickers, finishing the sentence he’s heard you say about a million times already– he starts to wonder if you have short-term memory loss and don’t remember telling him every time you walk by the cinema. (And that’s a lot of times, since Sunwoo’s dad owns the place. Sometimes, Sunwoo makes Eric be his own delivery man– he would deny on most occasions, but ever since he learned that bringing Sunwoo his lunch to work means he can take home a bag of cinema popcorn, the one that admittedly, always tastes the best, he doesn’t complain much– he can use the stale bag as a leverage to make you do about anything.)

“Oh man,” you sigh, “aren’t you a dream. I was going to wait for a more serious occasion, but wait, let me just–” you say, running quickly into your room. Eric doesn’t question your antics, figuring out that he will know the reason for your disappearance soon enough anyway, and allows himself into the living room. Two cans of coca cola and a chocolate bar are already waiting on the coffee table, alongside the TV remote, and while he passes the couch and opens one of your kitchen cabinets to fish for a bowl to put the popcorn in, he hears your socked feet rumble against the floor, announcing your arrival.

Once he takes the big bowl he’s sure he’s seen you puke in before after a wild night out and settles it onto the kitchen counter, the bag of popcorn comes back into his view as you lazily throw it into the white plastic, still closed and sealed, waiting to be opened. As his hands move and go to rip it open, meaning to pour the snack in so you two can share while you watch the next movie on your list– which, just for the record, Eric never asks the title of before, afraid it might make him less excited for the movie night– you put something onto the back of his hand, giggling.

Eric curiously stops his movements, gazing at his own skin. There, shiny and glittery, is a sticker attached to his limb– a yellow star sticker, to be exact, making him look at you with a dumbfounded look, eyebrows furrowed, but lips still sealed into a wide grin.

“That’s a gold star for remembering my favorite snack,” you point, flicking his forehead as a way of swatting him away from you so you can open the bag yourself, “and for bringing it.”

When Eric doesn’t give you any coherent reply– despite his brain operating on a thousand miles per hour, thoughts just swirling around and silencing any rational words– you only laugh at his face, your nose scrunching in that adorable way that makes him want to reach over and squish both of your cheeks in between his fingers, crying out. 

“Wow, I didn’t know you were so serious about this,” you sigh, snickering. Eric was going to bring up the fact that you were the one serious enough about the sentiment to buy a full roll of star stickers to give him on various occasions, some more serious than others, but he kept his silence in fear of getting this advantage taken away from him. He doesn’t think he’d survive it. “If you manage to not eat the entire bowl before the movie starts, I’ll give you another one. Come on,” you call for him, body already disappearing back into the living room.

Eric follows you like a lost puppy. If he had a tail, at this moment, he would’ve been waggling it. After he drops to the sofa, he notices the movie paused on the TV in front of him to be none other than Dirty dancing. With a sigh, he recognises that he’s seen it about five times already with his mother and sister, and so he spends the hour and a half gazing at the star on his hand instead.

The next few stars he receives are gifts of a similar manner. Half-serious, but still enough to make Eric’s heart leap in his chest at your recognition.

One day, he says a joke in the middle of the conversation that nobody really appreciates. And see, it’s not really unexpected– he was already aware that his friend group doesn’t appreciate good humor– but the dead silence he receives after the lame joke still makes him feel kind of awkward. That’s only until he is greeted with the sound of your muffled chuckle, though– which is of amusement at the situation, and not his joke, just for the record– and the sight of you ruffling around your pockets. You take a roll of stickers out of your jean jacket, and before he knows it, a star sticker is glued onto his phone case, right in the corner of his phone laying screen down on the table. 

“A gold star for trying,” you hum, making the rest of the group holler out a laugh at the casual bullying, “not as bad as last time, keep it up, buddy.”

Eric gets red in his cheeks. When he looks up from the dark wood of the dinner table, he is met with the sight of Sunwoo and Juyeon looking at him with shit-eating grins on his faces, wiggling their eyebrows at the very obvious reaction Eric has at the half-assed praise. The boy wonders if you’re the only one that hasn’t noticed yet, or if you just don’t really care about the effect you have on him. The star sticker stays glued to his phone case at all times, though, even when it’s worn-down and peeling off at the edges.

Another gold star is won from you one day when the semester starts again and you two meet up in the library, working on your respective essays. Each of you major in a different thing, so there is not much actual help shared other than underlying emotional support, and despite the coffee Eric brings you upon his arrival and the bag of chips resting on the table waiting for you to munch on them, which you refuse to touch before you finish a segment of your essay to ‘motivate yourself’, as you say, he can see you’re still a bit stressed out.

The suspicion is only proven to be true when he speaks up suddenly, lost in thought and a little overwhelmed himself. “How do you spell ‘accommodate’?” he asks, scratching the back of his head.

He now admits that it’s a stupid question to ask, but somehow, getting advice from you is much easier than looking it up himself, or simply writing the word down to let Google docs do the editing. The answer you give him is short, sharp, and the tone of your voice stings the boy the tiniest bit. “Are you 5 years old, or something?”

“I–”

“I’m in the middle of writing an important paragraph, Eric, just Google it–”

“Jeez, okay,” he hums, rolling his eyes at your snappy composure. When your eyes meet only two seconds after, you look a little guilty. You say nothing, though, only continuing to focus on your essay– and Eric does the same, for the most part. (While he also tries to take his mind off the fact that you might think he’s a little bit stupid. You are a STEM major, after all– he’s the one studying media.)

After a while of typing away on your computer, though, you look at him with big eyes, chewing on the bottom of your lip. The subtle nerves and desperation in your face are enough to leave the man weak in his knees, and even though he’d like to reply to you in a similar manner to show you his disapproval with your previous tone, he can’t find it in himself to ever reject you as you mumble out a soft: “Switch?” having the man instantly nod, offering you his laptop.

This is standard practice for the two of you. While he doesn’t really know what you’re talking about in your essays– for all he knows, you could be pulling everything out of your ass– he enjoys reading the words you’ve written. You two often work on your essays together and switch from time to time to reread what the other one has so far– on a lookout for wrong word order, grammar, or anything sounding weird. It’s hard to rationally evaluate your work and find flaws in it after spending hours and hours on it, your brain desensitized to the content you’re writing. Having a helping pair of eyes is always for the better.

When the both of you are done and you switch the laptops back, there’s a gold sticker smiling back at him from the device settled right next to the Kirby sticker you’ve given him once after hearing him gushing about the game one night (Yes, he was tipsy and sentimental). He didn’t even notice you putting it on, and when he looks up at you with questioning eyes, you shrug at him, averting eye contact.

“A gold star for spelling ‘accommodate’ right,” you say, making the boy roll his eyes, snickering.

He doesn’t really question you further. Just the star sticker is enough for him now, if he’s being totally honest– even as unserious as they come. Had he pried more, though, maybe he’d find out that the gold star wasn’t just the prize for his spelling– but also for his patience and silent support he’s been sending you every single day. 

And so, the habit preserves itself at first in a joking, half-serious manner. A gold star sticker for him when he reminds you to water your plants (‘for having a good memory’). A gold sticker for him when he carries you home on his back after you get too drunk at the bar with your friends (‘for having strong muscles’). A star sticker for him when he picks you up after work and drives you home (‘for having a cool car’). Another one when he cooks you ramen when you’re sick and don’t have enough energy to make yourself something warm for dinner (‘for being a 5* Michelin cook’). For his birthday, alongside with other things, you give him a strip of the gold star stickers, 5 in a row all next to each other– ‘for bearing the old age well’. He’s not even that much older than you in the first place, but he takes the external validation and praise with open arms, not really dwelling deeper into the sentiment underlying your joking, unserious reasonings. 

He doesn’t really realize the stickers were a sign of gratitude for the fact that he listens to you and remembers what you have to say– not for having a good memory. They are for taking care of you on your lowest– not for having strong arms and a ‘fat ass’. They are a wordless thank you for his acts of service and protection of you, not for having a cool car and getting his driver’s license– although, the pride is the common undertone in some of the gold stars you give him. You give him gold stars on his birthday to tell him you’re proud of the man he’s growing into, not to make fun of him growing old. The boy is just too oblivious to realize it, it seems.

Some days are more difficult than others, though, and that’s when your star stickers gain more value and seriousness. 

The day after he has a family reunion with the distant relatives that always pry too much into his business– ‘Do you have a girlfriend yet?’, ‘What will you end up doing with that useless degree of yours?’, ‘Do you still share a flat with that friend of yours? What about getting your own place?’ – he is met with the sight of you waiting for him after class, on one of the bean bags outside of the lecture room. His department is a solid 20 minute walk away from yours, so the sight of you there surprises him, but the shock is only intensified when you call him over with a wave of your hand and present him with a pack of M&M’s with a gold star stuck to the packaging.

“What’s that for?” he says, but opens the candy nonetheless. After he takes a few into his mouth, he offers you some– to which you shake your head and shrug.

“For being the coolest one out of your family,” you say close to his ear, like it’s a secret, before you ruffle his hair and stand up from the bean bag, strutting towards the exit. “Come on, I have beer over at my place. You can come over and rant about them being stupid, if you want.”

Eric smiles at your sincerity. Trying hard to tame his hair back into place, he follows you with his backpack hanging off one of his shoulders, and even though he’d love to finish the candy you’ve given him, he forces himself to leave at least three pieces inside of the bag, saving it for later– just so he can keep holding on to the star-adorning wrapper for some more.

One day is particularly hard for the boy as he locks himself out of the apartment, having to wait for his roommate Jake to come back from his hometown the other day, leaving him no place to stay– before you invite him over and force him to sleep over on the couch. You can tell there is something more bugging him, though– and so you push the boy for answers.

“What’s up? Locking yourself out is not the end of the world, y’know,” you say, trying to lighten up the situation.

Eric looks at you with tired eyes, shrugging. Truth be told, his mood has been gradually falling over the last couple of days– this incident was just what really tipped him over the edge and nudged him closer to a nervous breakdown. He’s been overwhelmed with work (too many people having high expectations of him that he is scared he cannot meet), with school (too many assignments he is afraid he can’t manage to get done in time) and also with his family constantly being at his neck about everything he does and chooses for his future– only fueling the burning pit of anxiety and insecurity crawling outside of the big hole inside of his chest.

“It’s nothing,” still, he notes. “I’ve just been having a bit of a rough time, really, ‘s all.”

You answer him with a slight pout of your lips, a saddened expression taking over your face. There is sympathy oozing off your presence, and Eric can’t tell if he dislikes it, or yearns too much for your caring words and gentle encouragement. He can’t tell if it’s natural or pathetic, to want, to need your compliments and validation so much– or if he’s just fallen into a hole he can’t crawl back out of, too hungry after every bit of your attention. You’ve completely enchanted the boy, made his heart both soft and erratically running whenever you’re around, and the things he constantly does for you are not only because he wants you to tell him he’s doing well, but also because he wants you to think of him as someone that you can lean on. He wants you to think of him as someone good enough for you. 

Today, though, maybe he just needs a bit of validation. Maybe he just selfishly strives for your encouragement. It’s okay to just want to be loved on from time to time, no?

You coo, taking a seat next to him on the sofa you’ve spent countless movie nights on together, slotted side by side. Eric plays with his fingers in his lap, a heavy cloud hanging over his face. You know your friend isn’t really good at talking about his emotions– something akin to a mental block inside of him preventing him from ever fully opening up– but despite it all, it seems like he’s completely see-through in your eyes, handling you all the unspoken words on a silver platter. You know him too well.

“You’re doing well, Eric. Don’t let the doubts get into your head, yeah?” you hum, meeting eyes with the boy. 

“Am I, though?” 

The face you give him is stern, acting upset with him. “Of course you are! Stop saying that,” you shake your head at him, sighing when he doesn’t comply with your hard love. After a heartbeat of silence, you turn your head away from him and face the turned-off TV, instinctively wrapping your arm around the boy first, tucking him to your side, before you cradle his head and move it so it sits in the crook of your shoulder. 

Patting his hair, ruffling it and gently playing with the strands before you move to scratch on his scalp, the actions all unarm the poor boy. He almost feels like he could cry and fall apart right there in front of you, right there in your hold, but his pride is oftentimes bigger than his need to let it all out– so he just stares ahead of him, teething at his bottom lip in silence.

After a moment, you rustle around your pocket with your free hand, seemingly searching for something. Eric watches you with curious eyes, big eyes reminiscent of ponds of water waiting to overflow when you take out a strip of star stickers from the inside of your sweatpants, gently taking one of them and sticking the golden star onto the fabric of his pants, right on his knee, before patting it affectionately.

“What’s that for?” he asks, voice a bit hoarse. He’s glad you don’t mention it.

“Just in general,” you shrug, hand coming back up to play with his hair, “a gold star because I’m proud of you.”

“There’s nothing to be proud of, though..?”

“Of course there is!” you argue, raising your voice at him. He doesn’t make much effort to show you that he agrees or understands your point, so you gently take his hand into yours and wave it around in mock-joy– although you’re kind of serious about the sentiment. “Proud of you, because you’re alive and surviving! Yay!”

Eric snorts. It’s not enough to cure his mood completely, but it warms his heart up enough to make him forget about his tears.

“Do you just carry these on you at all times?” he asks, pointing towards the sticker on his leg.

“You never know when you need them,” you innocently agree. After your continuous doting, the boy finds himself falling asleep on your shoulder. When he wakes up in the morning, there’s a blanket thrown over his body he didn’t see in the room before, and he feels a thousand times better.

So far, Eric’s never asked for the gold star stickers. They always come to him by your initiative– and although he has to admit that sometimes he does stuff for you and expects a reward for it (in the form of the sticker, of course) – he never once begged to receive one himself. Sometimes, you surprise him. Sometimes, it’s obvious there is one coming– like after he helps you send out your psychology survey to every single person he knows (and he knows a lot of them. He is a born extrovert, after all.). 

Much like the day of his football match. 

He’s not really the biggest fan of the sport– he much prefers baseball, but his university no longer has a baseball team and he needs to get additional credit somehow– but when you add up the fact that it makes him popular with the fact that he ends up spending time playing around the field with his friends and over the course of the season gets actually better at the sport the more he practices, it’s not as bad as he expected.

The last match of the season turned out well– with their team winning– and although Eric wasn’t the one in charge of the winning goal (damn Kim Sunwoo and Jake Sim for collectively beating him to the victory), he was still ecstatic about the whole thing. After celebrating with his teammates, dubbing them up and screaming in victory, his eyes scan the crowd to find the rest of his friend group that he knows is there, watching him and Sunwoo play. (In reality, he’s just looking for you– he won’t admit that out loud, though.)

Running up to you with sparkles in his eyes, he watches as you cheer on your other friend, Sunwoo, when he beats him to the bleachers. (Not cool of him, if you ask Eric. His crush is literally right there.)

The taller boy enthusiastically talks about the match– as if you, Jihoon, Ryujin and Jay haven’t been on the bleachers the whole time, watching– and after a while, Eric hears your enthusiastic praise aimed towards his best friend, making his blood turn green in envy.

“Yo, that goal was so good, though!” you gush, patting Sunwoo on the shoulder.

“I know, right? Jake passed the ball to me in the perfect time, that other guy couldn’t even register what was happening,” he boosts, grinning to himself.

All attention is drawn on Kim Sunwoo, and Eric doesn’t like it. Not when it’s your attention we’re talking about. He doesn’t care if the whole university drools over the handsome fire sign (as if he doesn’t have a girlfriend anyway– although Eric is still surprised by the fact, after the way he treated the part-timer at his father’s movie theater in the first few weeks of their acquaintance). Believe me, Eric is completely content standing in the shadow whenever someone gushes about Kim Sunwoo, the star player of the team– until you’re involved, of course.

So, he sulks. And it’s apparent– or at least he thinks so. It doesn’t seem to clock in with any of his friends, though, as they all walk away from the football field, aiming to celebrate together in the cheap restaurant downtown. Eric walks behind the group like a lost puppy, and it takes exactly 5 minutes and 35 seconds (not that he’s counting) for you to finally notice the absence of his lame jokes and loud comments to just about everything.

“What’s up?” you ask when you trail behind the group to join his side, laughing at the pout on his face. “You look like you just lost the match. Which you didn’t. Not sure if you caught that…” you joke, bumping your hips with him.

“Well, you seem to be acting like it,” he comments, his words leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“Huh?” you ask, genuine confusion tinting your expression. “We’re literally going to celebrate, I don’t get what you– is this because you want that stupid star sticker?” you cut yourself off mid-sentence, the boy already too readable to you after so much time.

Eric gasps in shock. He’s not really sure what he wanted out of mentioning it so openly to you, but to be called out like this surely wasn’t on the list. He feels heat rising to his cheeks with lightning speed, his eyes averting your gaze in the instant. Maybe the voices inside of his head were right. Maybe he is embarrassing.

“Well,” he shrugs, only digging the hole under himself deeper, “did I not do well too?” he mutters under his breath, the humiliation fully settling into his bones after you laugh straight at his face.

“Wow…” you hum, shaking your head in disbelief. “If I knew I was fueling your praise kink this much with the stickers, I would’ve stopped a long time ago–”

“I don’t have a praise kink–” he screams, battling you as you suddenly scramble after him with the sticker on your finger, waiting to be plastered somewhere onto his figure. He’s sure the whole commotion heard his poor attempt at defending himself, but he’s not willing to back down without a fight– anything to prove that he doesn’t depend on the stickers as much as one would think. He doesn’t want the sticker anymore. He doesn’t need it.

As you fight him and womanhandle him on the street, though, hands all over him, trying to get close as he desperately tries to push you away and fight the allegations, he finds himself unarmed when you get in close proximity of his body, pushing him against the wall. He’s sure he has more muscle power than you do, but the mental power in him is lacking– he just can’t make himself push you away from him. Your face is close to his, your breathing tickling his nose. His heart is stammering hard against his chest, your hands still clutching his wrists against the wall, making him feel like a horny teenager. His breathing is heavy– he doesn’t think he’s done much physical labor, though?

Before he has a chance to collect himself and physically unglue his eyes off your lips– glossy and pink, inviting him in– you make the boy’s brain short circuit even further when you lean close to his ear, whispering so no one else can hear.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, by the way.”

You know just which buttons to push. Maybe you’re a bit sadistic– with how knowledgeable you are of his feelings, but of how much you’re enjoying him being completely oblivious to the fact that you’re aware. You have him at your mercy, all yours to keep, his heart all yours to play with and scan in the palm of your hands.

A star sticker is pressed into the skin below his ear, right at the pulse point. With that, you unstick yourself from the boy, running back to the rest of the group. It takes Eric a moment to collect himself enough to rejoin his friends– so much he has to run (which is good, in hindsight– at least he has something to blame for his breathlessness)– but after this, he swears he’s never asking for validation from you ever again.

It’s too dangerous.

Almost as dangerous as you trying to ride his skateboard for the first time, it seems. He’s met with the fact only two weeks after the football match. When you texted him and convinced him you’re going to be fine and that he should definitely bring the board with him when you hang out later in the day– ‘I’m not a five year old, I can handle it! I bet it’s going to be fun!’ – he didn’t really expect you to be this bad at it. You seemed a little too confident for him to believe otherwise, and, well, in Eric’s eyes, you are perfect at just about everything. 

This really shattered the image of you he had in his mind. Not in a bad way, no– the man has and always will worship the sheer ground you walk on– it’s just that more than admiration, the feeling flowing through his veins right now seems to be adoration. Eric always admired your every move, every single sentence that ever came out of your mouth. But now, he just can’t seem to contain himself as he watches you stumble over your own feet and try to balance yourself on the unmoving skateboard in the middle of the empty park, hands waving around your figure in a desperate need to not fall over and break your neck. (Which would never happen under Eric’s watch anyway. His reflexes are fast.)

“You look like a baby learning how to walk for the first time,” he gushes from the bench, your bags waiting at his feet. A wide grin is plastered onto his face as he watches you, his cheeks beginning to hurt from the constant stretch of the muscles.

“Very funny,” you sigh, stumbling over once again, making the board move with the kinetic motion of you stepping off of it, leaving Eric to stop it with his outstretched leg.

“You were so confident before,” he shakes his head, mocking you.

“Well, I tend to overestimate my abilities sometimes,” you shrug, a pout slowly appearing on your face as you move closer towards the male, obviously going to sit at the bench next to him. “It’s whatever, I don’t feel like skateboarding anymore–”

“You’re giving up already?” 

“Yes.”

“No, you’re not,” he shakes his head, standing up and offering you his hand to take so he can bring you back up to your feet, “never back down, never what?”

“Eric, I’m not going to finish your TikTok references right now–”

“I said never back down never what?!” he hollers, forcefully tugging you to a standing position, the sigh escaping your lips only fueling him further with his ridiculous antics. “Never give up! That’s right, Y/N, very well. Now, let me help you, I promise it’s not as hard as it seems.”

“I mean, given the fact that even you can do it–”

Eric flashes you a stone cold look as a warning. He doesn’t really think the teasing is at place right now– you’re the one not capable of keeping balance on the skateboard. It’s not like you have any right to joke right now.

“Okay, I take it back.”

“Leave the jokes for when your legs don’t look like a freshy born horse’s with how much they’re shaking when you’re up on this thing, yeah?” he chuckles, hearing you snort out a laugh at the accuracy of his comment.

Eric should’ve known he was the one miscalculating his abilities to efficiently teach you how to skateboard before the act itself happened. He didn’t, though, and the thought only occurred to him the moment you started latching onto him like a koala to its favorite tree– all just so you could hold balance on the board beneath your feet.

Your legs are a little shaky– and so are Eric’s hands when they instinctively land on your waist as you latch onto his shoulders, steadying yourself. The boy is painfully aware of the layers of clothing preventing him from touching your bare skin, yet, his fingertips still tingle as they bear into your midriff, holding you steady and preventing you from falling.

“Now, this isn’t so hard,” you conclude, chuckling. Eric doesn’t find it in himself to look up at your face, knowing he’d go painfully red the second your eyes would meet. The close proximity of your body still makes him shy sometimes, despite the years of friendship you share, and so he keeps his gaze glued to the ground instead, clearing his throat before he speaks up again, trying to seem nonchalant and casual.

“I’ll move now, yeah?”

Without really waiting for your reply, his feet shift their position on the ground, dragging you across the road with him. Gentle steps at first, making sure you’re not too overwhelmed, then picking up speed so you move a little faster on the board. “Will you be okay if I let go?”

“I don’t know..? Hopefully…?” you say, voice wavering a little, nerves seeping through your tone.

“I’ll catch you if you fall, don’t worry,” he hums, feeling how you squeeze his shoulders for one last time before he lets go of your waist, watching the way you slide away on the skateboard. The pace isn’t too fast, yet, it’s still enough to make you grin widely at the boy, your body now used to the feeling, balance finally finding its way to you. 

“Do you want me to push you around for a bit?” he offers, relishing in the way you nod eagerly at him, the grin on your face making his heart squeeze on itself. If he could carve the muscle out of his chest and offer it to you, he would. In his eyes, you deserve everything in this world– how could he not just try and give it to you, little by little, all by himself?

Light steps nearing your figure, he gently pushes you in the back, watching as you slide farther and farther away from him. Every time he gently nudges you in the right direction, he earns himself a hearty giggle from you, the motion making you feel free and reckless– just like teenagers do when discovering the activity for the first time. “I was right! It’s fun!”

Eric can feel himself relishing in the moment fully. Your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, and he wishes he could engrave the sight of it into his memory forever. He knows that’s not possible, though, and so he pledges to try his hardest to make it appear on your face so much and so often that he has no chance to forget how it looks.

After you’re done and exhausted with the day, Eric makes it his quest to get you home safely before heading to his place. You complain about your feet hurting, and although the boy is doubtful of your whining, he still offers to drag you home as you stand on the skateboard, holding your hand the whole way. When he’s almost at your apartment complex, he feels the familiar star sticker glued to the back of his hand before you intertwine your fingers with his, running a thumb proudly over the gold plastic.

“A gold star for being a good teacher,” you note when your eyes meet, making the boy chuckle.

“Shouldn’t I be giving you one for being a good student? Is that not how things usually work?” 

“I give credit where credit is due,” you hum, nodding to yourself. “Besides, that’s not only for that. I just…” you trail off, as if too nervous to say the next words. “I just wanted to show gratitude to you, ‘cause I had a really good time today,” you say nonchalantly, still, shrugging. Eric feels his stomach churning. How can you be so casual with saying words that make his heart skip a beat?

“I should show my gratitude to you more often too, y’know.”

You shake your head at him, laughing like it’s funny. “Oh, Eric. You do it so often you don’t even realize it. You just have a different way of showing it than I do.”

Eric averts his gaze from you, chewing on his bottom lip in nervousness. He starts to wonder if he’s been too obvious with his feelings. Do you see him differently now?

The questions almost drown him out on the way towards your house. Somewhere along the way, he realizes the act of holding your hand feels natural to him now. Gazing at your interlocked fingers, he smiles to himself. He could get used to it– all of it.

He could get used to the people smiling at him and you on the street when they see you with fingers interlocked. He could get used to holding your hand every day, keeping you close. He could get used to your touches, hugs and skinship. He could get used to waking up to you in the same apartment as him, like that one time he locked himself out and you let him sleep over at your place. And to a certain extent, he already has gotten used to you– all of you. 

He’s used to texting you every day. He’s used to seeing you multiple times a week– because if he doesn’t, he misses you a little too much. He’s used to your movie nights and dancing with you in bars, shielding you from the looks of other greedy men wanting to get a piece of you. He’s used to the gold stickers you constantly provide him with as a gentle reminder of the unsaid feelings shared between the two of you. He’s used to your presence and your energy, he’s used to your teasing words and the memes you send in his Instagram DMs. If you were suddenly removed out of his life, he knows he’ll find it hard. It would feel like a piece of him was missing.

Some days, he tries to make himself believe that he’s content with what you two have right now. And he is, for the most part– but deep down, he knows he wants more. He always wanted something a bit more.

It shines through his actions on most days. It’s visible to everyone– the longing looks, the gentle touches. Jake once said Eric would jump out of a window if you asked him to, and after careful consideration, the boy had to shamefully agree with his roommate. Eric gets laughed at every time his cheeks blush when you give him too much special attention. He’s used to being called the ‘lover boy’ whenever you’re around. 

In front of you, he tries to hide his feelings as much as possible, though.

Sometimes, it slips out of him, though. In moments where the day slowly comes to its end and the atmosphere turns more tender. On days when the movie nights get moved to his apartment, because it’s closer to your university and you claim you’re too tired to walk all the way back to your place. Eric claims you’re just lazy, but the pout on your face tells him otherwise. 

On days when there is no one else in the apartment, just you two, and your conversation dies down. The boy is usually a chatterbox when it comes to watching movies with you– commenting on every single scene, making fun of the characters, teasingly spoiling bits and chunks of the plot for you– but it was a Friday night and you were snuggled up in your favorite hoodie, your bodies stuck tightly to each other on the sofa. There is a cloud of comfort, a huge curtain of intimacy falling over you two, and Eric is afraid that speaking up would ruin the sentiment. 

After a few minutes, he feels your head lay on his shoulder. The crown of your head is instantly more interesting than the movie playing on the TV, his eyes glossing over your relaxed expression. There is hair falling into your face and your eyelashes are kissing your cheekbones, your brain no longer focusing on the movie, but slowly dozing off instead. Eric mentally coos– it’s not often you fall asleep next to him, and so he somehow finds himself treasuring the moment. You look so peaceful, so beautiful– yet so unaware of it. His heart squeezes with tenderness, making sink a little into the sofa cushions so you’re more comfortable in using him as your head rest. He knows waking you up or moving you so you’re resting against the back of the sofa would be more convenient for your neck, but he selfishly relishes in the fact that you found comfort in the crook of his shoulder instead.

He can’t help but smile widely at your composure. You look small and vulnerable. You look like the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Eric indulges in the fact that he’s not watched right now, letting himself fully enjoy and admire your sheer existence. 

He acts on impulse when his lips softly land onto your forehead. Not much thought goes into the sentiment– he just sheerly answered his heart’s calling. 

You look dreamy. You look lovely. He’s in love with you, he thinks.

He lets himself settle deeper into the couch cushions. After no longer having to entertain you with his comments on the movie he’s seen 4 times already– The matrix– he finds himself bored enough of the familiar plot to doze off himself, forgetting about the promise he made to you to drive you home after the movie is over. 

He sleeps through your smile and the shake of your head, as well as you detaching your head off his shoulder, smiling at the unaware boy. Not yet asleep– just resting your eyes for a bit– you were a witness of the boy’s tender, loving ministrations. You disappear out of the apartment after the movie is over, crossing paths with Jake in the entrance hall giving you a quiet wave and a point towards his roommate sitting on the sofa, a gold star adorning the tip of his nose.

You just shrug before leaving. Jake just shakes his head at both of you, wondering when your time will finally come. Eric wakes up in the middle of the night to the TV off, asking himself if he should consider the sticker a silent invitation.

And after a while of careful consideration– laying awake and wondering of all the what-ifs, replaying every moment spent with you over and over in his mind, looking for the very obvious signs of reciprocation– he decides to just go for it. He decides to be the brave man he claims he is, and finally makes the first step.

Well, at least tries to. Because as it turns out, it’s much more difficult to invite someone out on a date if you’re already friends with them for a prolonged amount of time. Not only is it more nerve-wrecking, but also much more confusing to the other party– and after inviting you out to get boba in the new place downtown, he’s not so sure you are aware that you’re on a date with him. 

Not that Eric expected anything to change between the two of you instantly after going on a date– no, he’s completely fine with the dynamic you two have, and it’s one of the things he values the most about your friendship– he just thought the atmosphere would be… a little different.

Which is why he decides to start dropping not so subtle hints about his intentions. Brave, isn’t he?

First of all, he pays for your order. All after the 20 minutes you take standing outside of the boba store searching through the menu to find out what you’re going to get– and although Eric finds it endearing, he is also starting to get a little nervous.

“Didn’t know you were so indecisive,” he hums, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m not!” you grunt, shaking your head at your own antics. “I just don’t know what tastes good together. Should I just get one of the premade drinks on the menu? But I’m not really in the mood for any of these–”

“I’ll just get you a random one,” he sighs, “and you will have no other choice than to drink it.”

“What if I don’t like it?”

“Then at least you have someone to blame,” he snickers, pushing the glass door open and entering the quiet boba store. He orders you a kiwi bubble tea with strawberry popping pearls– because he knows you enjoy how they come apart in your mouth– and after he comes outside with both of the drinks in either of his hands, he waves you off when you ask him how much yours was so you can pay him back.

“It’s on me,” he hums.

An over-exaggerated sigh escapes your mouth at that. “You’re paying? You never pay,” you exclaim and take the straw in between your lips, ready to taste the drink. You and Eric both know that what you said is a lie– he has no issue with paying for you, and he brings you random treats all the time– but for the sake of the next line, he decides to go along with it.

“Well, today is a different occasion, I guess,” he shrugs.

With that, you stop and stare at him with stars in your eyes, a teasing smile slowly overtaking your lips. You’re not stupid– you’re not oblivious the way he is– and so Eric thinks you finally got the hint. Or, at least he hopes so. “Is it?”

Suddenly too shy under your gaze, cheeks tinting light pink, the boy averts his gaze from you and walks down the street, expecting you to follow him. He might be brave enough to drop hints, but still not brave enough to admit to it explicitly.

Not when he drags you to the park and sits with you on the bench, people watching. Not when he casually drops his arm on the back of the bench behind you, gluing himself particularly close to your body. Not when he lets you try his drink, battling away the annoying voice inside of his head telling him that you just shared an indirect kiss. (‘Come on, Eric. You’re not a teenager anymore. Get it together.’)

He doesn’t admit to it in words, but he sure does in actions when he gives you his jacket when the evening gets chilly. He swears you look the most adorable in his red windbreaker, and in a moment of weakness, he puts his arm around your shoulders as you walk down the street, a selfish need of having you close to him winning above everything else.

“And what was so different about today, Eric?” you ask on the way to your apartment, gazing up at the beaming boy next to you. Are you teasing him again? Do you enjoy watching his misery?

Eric figures it’s for the best to tell you, though. He thinks it’s important to set the tone– because after today, it’s almost like nothing changed at all. The dynamic stays the same– and while he doesn’t think he hates it, he admits he’d just rather call you his.

So, despite the embarrassment, he chews on the bottom of his lip. You’re almost at your place already, and so he thinks it won’t hurt to talk about it now. If things go wrong, you can just go home and he can run to his apartment and violently cry into his pillow. 

“Well, I was thinking…” he starts, clearing his throat to buy himself some time and also trying to bite down the excessive nerves clawing at him from the inside, “I… you… I was hoping this wasn’t just like… a regular day out, you know…?”

Blinking at him a few times– because you must love to torture him, there is no other explanation– you shake you head at him. “No, Eric. I don’t know what you mean by that.”

Eric physically tears himself off you, your apartment complex now directly in front of him. Cracking his knuckles and taking a deep breath in to calm himself, he tries again. “I meant to… invite you out on a date today,” he proposes simply.

And in that moment, it’s like the whole world stops turning for a minute. Not only do you not give him any verbal answer, but your expression also stays the same as before– completely stoic and neutral, giving him no window into the way you feel about his suggestion. And you know what they say about Eric Sohn– he talks too much. Not only in situations where it’s inappropriate, but also in moments where he feels like there is nothing better to do than to fill the suffocating void that is the silence hanging over him– much like right now.

Eric rambles. “And- and I know I should’ve said that before making you go with me, but god, you don’t know how hard it is to make it clear to you that I’m trying to be more than friends with you without sounding absolutely fucking awkward!” he sighs, wetting his dry, chapped lips. 

“And I’m sorry if this changes your view of me, or something, but trust me, our friendship means to me so much more than just trying to make you date me, that was never my intention behind things, I do everything out of care for you, because you’re– you’re just everything to me–”

After the last line, he hears you chuckle. Your eyes finally meet, and he feels like he wants a car to run him over approximately 15 times to make sure all his bones are broken and his skull is smashed into pieces– he’s sure it would be more comfortable than the situation he put himself in right now.

“That was so cheesy,” you say, Eric’s stomach making a flip that might as well force acid up his throat. He won’t throw up, he won’t throw up, he won’t embarrass himself even more–

His hands shake. Suddenly, you take them into yours. 

He watches you carefully, ready to be let down. You step closer to him– surely, you’re going to give him a comforting hug as you tell him he read all the signs wrong and you don’t feel the same– before you lean into him, face inches away from his. Blinking, Eric suddenly registers your lips locking with his for a mere second, a soft, sweet caress of your mouth on his not giving him a chance to react– a chance to reciprocate– before you pull away, making him freeze.

“You always make things more complicated than they need to be,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Uh…” he lets out, like he lost all the words in his vocabulary. It’s the first time Eric Sohn has nothing to say– and it feels like a miracle. In reality, he’s taken aback and still processing.

The sight of him like this only makes you grin wider. It’s no question that you find him adorable like this, so bashful and surprised, cheeks turning red and lips slightly ajar, big eyes staring into yours. “Cat got your tongue?” you tease, letting go off his hands and placing your palms onto his cheeks instead, thumbs tracing his cheekbones. His brain might be blank right now, but his orbs still hold so many emotions– ones that make you soften and cave in on yourself, overflowing with tenderness. Hands automatically resting on your waist, Eric holds you close to his chest.

“Put your mouth to use in a different way, then,” you joke, watching the boy in front of you go into factory reset.

Lips crashing against yours, the boy kisses you like you’re his lifeline. Chasing after you, he puts all the words he’s said before and the ones he keeps hidden inside for now into the action, having you melt in his hold. He feels your breathing on his face, making him deeply aware of every detail, of every miniscule shift of your figure, every tiniest movement of your lips and the almost inaudible sound you let out when his teeth tug on your bottom lip as he pulls away for air, being a little overly-excited.

Foreheads resting together, the two of you in your own little bubble no one gets to peer into even on the busy street, Eric watches as you look down and take something out of your pocket– something he so deeply recognises, making his heart thump a thousand miles an hour, if it wasn’t already.

Another kiss is given to his lips– for good measure– before you press another one to the tip of his nose and one more peck into the middle of his forehead, making his legs feel like jelly. You follow your lips with the star sticker attached to your thumb, sticking it to your lover’s skin. 

“That’s a gold star for being adorable,” you say, making him roll his eyes. “And for the nice date.”

“Don’t I get one for being a good kisser too?” he pries, watching as you scoff at his prideful question.

“I don’t know, Sohn,” you shrug, “I’m not sure yet, but I could be convinced–”

He cuts you off by locking your lips again, ready to prove you of his abilities. With the gold sticker proudly glimmering on his forehead, he realizes that maybe you were right– and all along, it has always been this simple.

[m00nbap]

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