#this probably doesnt count as fluff

[asahicore]

cold hands - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. sunghoon x fem!reader

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

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

word count. 39.5k 😂

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

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

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

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

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

Just to name a few:

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

“Dude, you’ll never guess what.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t believe them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon nods. “Good to know.”

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

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

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

Sunghoon can already feel it. The beginning of something.

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon smiles. “Probably, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There you guys are!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re on, Sim.”

“You’re going down, Sim.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon thinks he just fell in love.

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

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

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

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

“They really don’t.”

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

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

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

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

“Where’s that choir of yours?”

--

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

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

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

“You had time to bake?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I came to your concerts!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if they come back for them?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Better than Berta’s banana bread?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For sure.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That makes sense.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’d be my pleasure.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

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

“Your mom must be really strong.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you don’t. 

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

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

He can hardly fall asleep that night.

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was his first mistake. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It is easy. You’re making it hard.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was his second mistake.

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

yn.sim i’ll be there!!

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

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

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

“Your team jacket?” 

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

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

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

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

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

He was terrified—but infinitely excited, too.

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

“Okay.”

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

Your smile widened. “Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that was when he saw you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey. I was wondering where you were.” 

“You’re the one who came late.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “Mh-hm.”

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

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

“It looks good. You look good.”

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

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

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

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

You sigh. “Okay. Where’s your room?” 

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

“Oh, that was Jaemin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve missed you.”

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon nods. “I know. It’s nice.”

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

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

“Just us two?” 

“Just us two.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrug. “Basically, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I wasn’t that bad!”

“I should’ve filmed you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right. See you, Y/N. Sunghoon.” 

Back to no-nickname basis, apparently.

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

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

“Mh-hm.”

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

“Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you agree that I’m tall?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You-what?”

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

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

“Sure.”

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

“Looking for validation,” Sunghoon says.

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

“That’s smart.”

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

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

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

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

“Minjeong?”

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re like, nineteen…”

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

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

“Minjeong, I promise-”

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

“Okay.”

“And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Go inside.” 

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

--

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

yn are you still up for doing something this week?

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

She never lets things get serious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grab his hand; it warms him right up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you wanna come up?”

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

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

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

“Minjeong karaokes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re me,” he replies breathlessly.

“Hm?”

“I mean, me too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, please.”

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re better than a dream.

“I feel great. Do you feel great?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

After that night, Sunghoon forgets how to act right.

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

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

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

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

He has never felt so awkward in his life.

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

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

“I haven’t!”

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

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

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

“Yes, after we had sex,” he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

“Minjeong’s out at karaoke tonight.”

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

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

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

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

“I was gone two minutes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hangs up and meets your flatmates’ worried eyes. 

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

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

“Have you guys tried saying something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So this has to do with your parents?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Since I met her, basically.”

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

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

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

“How did you know, anyway?”

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

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

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

“I didn’t want to make things weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everyone…”

“Everyone?!”

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

“So everyone.”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Great.” Jake sighs. “Since when?”

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

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

“‘Cause of Heeseung?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at you. Down bad, huh?”

“Shut up.”

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

“Seriously?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t change the subject.”

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

“What would happen more than once?”

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

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

“Yeah, what did you think?”

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

“Well, we were.”

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

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

“Damn.”

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

Jake frowns. “Why not?”

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

“What are you scared of?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not really, no.”

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

“Jay texted me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff. “Excuse me?”

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

“That’s different-”

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

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

“Of course I do! But I have to.”

“No, you don’t-”

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

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

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

“Again, that’s different-”

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

“You heard me,” you say coldly.

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

You glance at him. “Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

What was Sunghoon?

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

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

No, okay, it was definitely your fault.

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

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

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

“What is?”

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

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

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

“I don’t think I do, actually.”

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

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

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

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

“So you are going after him?”

“So you do like him?”

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

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

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

“And how have you gathered that?”

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

“I’m not-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you went home for a weekend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It wasn’t any of your business.”

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

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

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

“Why can’t he?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God forbid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not to them, it doesn’t.”

“Then forget them.”

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

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

“I wish it was.”

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

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

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

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

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

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what has it been about?” 

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

“I love you.”

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

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

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

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

“I was waiting for you to say something.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I think I have too.”

“You think?”

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you need, baby?”

“You.”

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

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

“I’m not sure I do, actually.”

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

“That I can do.”

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

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

“I love it, Hoon.”

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

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

“Please what?”

“Need you. Need your dick, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feels so good, Hoon,” you moan.

“I know, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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[alixmarauders]

hiw Abt a marauderers x FEM reader, like where it's after a double moon or smth and Remus is EXTREMELY clingy to the reader, snuggled in her, doesnt let her move, literally anything...and sirius on the other hand is in an awful mood cuz he had some family problem or some thing...he needs support and the reader or Remus aren't there to help him out..and jamesie? Well he had a quidditch match and lost that and is in an equally depressive mood...they all need the reade..but she isn't able to comfort them all...

Sirius becomes and and shouts at the reader...rmeua shouts at sirius for shouting at the reader and James (he can't shout, he's too sweet lol) argues with Remus for being to clingy to the reader...

And so they all get mad and stuff and go to other rooms of the house (lol)

This keeps on continuing until the reader lashes out on all three of them!!!

(p.s: u can totally not do it, if u don't like it lol)

my first request! I'm kind of nervous. My requests are open, and while writing this I realized how much I love them! So feel free to send them <3

Love can be overwhelming | poly! marauders x reader

slight angst / a bit of fluff

word count: 1.8k

CW: mention of abusive household

part 1, part 2 , part 3

When you started dating the Marauders, the first thing that your friend Dorcas said was to beware, polyamorous relationship could be tough. At first, you brushed her off: you knew that, but your love for the boys would have overcome everything.

Or at least you thought so.

You have been experiencing the worst week of your whole life, you were stressed over your head with schoolwork, wanting to stay on top of your class but, also, struggling too, and this time, your boyfriends weren’t helping at all.

It all started with the fact that, obviously, it was the week before the full moon, meaning that Remus was extremely on edge, but also clingy. Having an afternoon for yourself was a luxury: the werewolf had to stay by your side all of the time. You didn’t quite get this clinginess, because he behaved this way only with you; he wanted to have the other two marauders near, of course, but he was fine as long as you didn’t wonder off, and sometimes he seemed to be a bit possessive over you. So, let’s say that if you felt the need to have some practice lessons for potions, he had to be there, and it didn’t matter if the professor didn’t want anyone else in the room with you: you had to choose between having him near you, or skipping the extra lessons you so desperately needed.

“Remus, I know it’s stressful for you, but you must understand I have to take this class. It’s not like I’m going to be gone all afternoon, I’m asking you for two hours maximum. You know that Slughorn doesn’t like having other people during these lessons, and he’s doing me a favour here” He looked like you just might have kicked him.

“I don’t understand why my partner suddenly doesn’t want me around.” You took a deep breath: truth was, you knew that he wasn’t being unreasonable because he wanted to. If his werewolf instincts weren’t acting up, he would have probably pushed you to take even more lessons, but now he wasn’t in his right mind. You had to chance tactic.

“Baby, you know that I love you, right? I love you so, so much” You took his face into your hands, you saw his expression visibly shift. “And I know it isn’t easy for you, I know that. I swear, if you go napping now, you won’t even notice I’m gone”

“But napping is way more fun with you” His voice turned sultry, his hands now groping your ass lightly. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of need, but now was not the time.

“Tell you what, I’m going to lay down with you until you’re asleep. I’ll give you some head scratches, then, when I’ll be back, you’ll have me all to yourself. Does this sound good?” His pupils were now a little bit wider; he nodded and hauled you on his shoulder, making you yelp when he made you fall on the bed. He positioned his head on your chest, a hand crawling underneath your shirt to grip one of your tits possessively, while the other one stayed underneath your ass, the tips of his fingertips hovering dangerously close to your core.

You knew that his hold wasn’t casual: he was trying to make you stay, knowing the effect that he had on you, but you couldn’t give in: you had to stay strong,  because deep down you knew that, if you failed this exam, you wouldn’t be in the right mind to help Remus during the full moon.

You just had to get through this week, it was only 7 days, right? And most of today was gone, if the other boys would be helpful, as they always did, everything was going to be just fine.

You wandered off to the Great Hall for breakfast, exhausted. After the lesson with Slughorn, you came back to a very needy Remus, who took all of his clinginess out of you, leaving you sore and tired; while he slept soundly, though, you had to study and make up for the hours lost being supportive for your boyfriend, leaving you with about two hours of sleep in the last forty-eight hours.

“Hey girl, didn’t see you in our dorm room yesterday, oh what the fuck-“ Dorcas looked at you like you might have grown another head during the nighttime. “Babes, have you slept? Like, at all?”

“No, I haven’t. Remus is being extremely clingy, and you know that I’m not the best when it comes to Potions. Given the fact that the test is going to be next week, I barely have time to rest” She scoffed, but you interrupted her before she could start. “I know that James and Sirius should help, but he’s being this clingy only with me, and they can’t do much about that; plus, the upcoming game is stressing them out so much, yesterday they came to bed after practice, they didn’t even eat anything. I just want to support them”

She sighed. “I know baby, but try to not burn out, okay? If you need any help, I’m here, you know? Now, let’s go eat something”

You were happy to share some time with her and your boyfriends, but when you sat next to Sirius, one look at him told you anything that there was to know.

He didn’t greet you, didn’t sport his usual smirk: he was looking down at his plate like it might have held the answer to all his problems, while James looked at you preoccupied. Remus just held you close to himself. You tried to peel yourself away from his embrace, to not avail.

“Sirius, baby, do you want to talk? We can skip the first few hours and go on a walk to the Black Lake?” Now he was looking at you, his eyes were red and puffy, you tried to not cringe at his expression.

“It’s okay, Y/N, just the usual” You hated how he always seemed to shut down, not wanting to share his problems with you. As you tried to reach for his hand, Remus snatched you back, holding you close to him: you could see the moment in which Sirius shut you out for good, and you wanted to kick Remus for it.

“I’m going to handle this, you’re going to think about Remus, okay darling? Then I will report back to you, I swear” James whispered in your ear, You took a deep breath, nodding: you were thankful for him, but you still didn’t want to make Sirius feel like he couldn’t count on you.

You had the time to eat a biscuit before you had to head to class, Remus trailing behind you. You just had to wait for a few days, a few days and all of this would be over, and you had James to help you get through this week. You would be fine, you told yourself.

On Wednesday, you were thankful that Remus had an important herbology test, which gave you enough time to check in with Sirius. You entered their dorm room, spotting his curled frame under piles of blankets: you felt a pang of guilt, you swore your heart broke just a little.

Without making any sounds, you peeled the blankets off and wrapped your body around his, he startled in his sleep.

“Shh, baby, I’m right here. You’re safe, you know that? And I’ll always be here for you, no matter what” It was like you opened a faucet: his body started trembling, and then came the sobbing, he turned around and hugged you back, you caressed his head and back softly. After he quieted down a bit, you took his face into your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Would you like for me to sing for you?” He nodded eagerly, burying his face in your chest, while you sang him a lullaby.

After a bit, you heard his breath even out. Your heart ached for your lover, you didn’t know what living in an abusive household felt like, and you sometimes even felt guilty over the fact that you had the most loving parents someone could ever asked for. You knew it was silly, but if you could, you’d swap family in a blink of an eye, everything to take this burden off of Sirius’s shoulders.

“Is he okay?” James whispered, startling you. He bent down, placing a soft kiss on your head. “I don’t know, Jamie. He had a breakdown, now he is asleep. I don’t know how to help him, I don’t want him to suffer like this every month.”

“I know, love, I know. You’re doing your best, and he appreciates it. But” He looked at you embarrassed, and you already knew what was going on, you sighed. “Remus just finished his test, and he’s going kind of nuts, he wants you by his side. You should go”

“Can’t he just come here, so we could cuddle?”

“I don’t know, love. This moon seems different, he got a lot more possessive over you. He just wants you for himself, I think we’re going to fix this before the next month, but for now, I think you should go”

You nodded, looking down art Sirius for the last time, before looking for Remus.

You prayed Sirius didn’t feel abandoned by you,  but you still had James to count on.

On Thursday, you stayed in bed all day with Remus. You studied, of course, and he seemed happy to have you around. You didn’t see Sirius at all, given the fact that you stayed at your dorm, but you thought that James was handling him well.

Exactly, you thought, because, as you and Remus took your seats for the Friday’s night Quidditch game, after having studied all day in the library, you felt a bit anxious. You told yourself you were being paranoid, but deep down, you knew something was off, and when Sirius entered the Quidditch pitch, you knew he wasn’t okay. He didn’t come to greet you, didn’t even look at you, and when you shoot a glance at James, he just averted his gaze: you were fucked.

You took a deep breath and snuggled closer to Remus, his clinginess now comforting, as the game begun. From the first actions, you knew that they were going to lose: Sirius looked like he wasn’t even trying, while James was too preoccupied to check on him to score a single goal.

And as the game ended, you knew your night was going to be an awful one: Gryffindor just lost the game.

[stansangel]

THE FORD FICS YOU HAVE MADE ME SOOOO UGH 🥹🥹🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸 Can we have more housewife househusband moments with him? 🥹

YES OMG!!! I'M SO GLAD U LOVE IT ANON! OMG BEING HIS LIL HOUSEWIFE AND MAKING SURE HE DOESNT GET LOST IN THE CHAOS OF ALL HIS WORK AND JUST CLEANING UP AFTER HIM!!!! ENJOY THIS PLEASE

Pairings: Stanford Pines x Reader Warnings: none! just house wife fluff Word Count: 266

You hum softly as you sweep the wooden floor of the cabin, sunlight streaming through the windows. Ford is in the living room, hunched over his latest journal, glasses sliding down his nose. You glance over at him, noticing the pile of books and loose papers scattered around. Typical. With a shake of your head, you head into the living room, broom in hand.

“Ford, this place is a disaster,” you say teasingly, nudging one of the books with your foot.

He looks up, a bit startled, then sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve been... busy.”

“I can see that.” You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “Lucky for you, I’m here to keep things in order.”

You put the broom aside and start stacking the books, organizing them as best as you can. Ford watches for a moment, then gently tugs you down onto the couch beside him.

“Sit down for a minute, would you?” His voice is soft, but there’s a hint of amusement. “You’re always taking care of me.”

You lean into him, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “That’s my job, isn’t it? To make sure you don’t get lost in all this chaos.”

Ford chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You grin up at him. “Probably starve.”

He laughs, wrapping his arm around you, and for a moment, the mess doesn’t matter. The research doesn’t matter. It’s just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, right where you belong.

Ford loves his lil house wife 😣 what would this man do without you???

[xxkissesforchanniexx]

𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐎𝐧𝐞

Pairing: childhood bff!Chan x fem!reader (non-idol au) Word count: 3.4k Genre: Fluff 🥰💖, Smut 🔥❤️ (angst if you squint) Warning: Weddings... (lord help me), pro best friend chan, mentions of familial favoritism, semi rough sex? , soft dom!chan, sweet name calling(babygirl, princess), slightly jealous chan, comfort, lord someone teach me how to make better warnings, i think thats all? (someone needs to teach me to proof read.)

A/N: THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWERS I LOVE YOU <3 I'm working on improving the formating of my works so >.> bare with me if some of the stuff doesnt translate over well on different devices, especially the text message part >.>

When you were young, you often got compared to your sister, your sister who loved pink and poodles and tutu skirts. She was younger than you by a year and yet, she always out did you, always was a step ahead, always beating you in everything. Yeah, you loved her, but the pain of comparison drove a wedge between you two.

You were 5 when you met Chan. He was very silly, always playing games and smiling, you happened to attend the same school and after he stood up for you against an older boy at the park you two were inseparable.

Chan, who sang for you. Chan, who shared his food with you. Chan, who taught you how to dance. Chan, who teased you for acting like a nerd. Chan, who was your best friend.

Chan was sitting on the couch in your apartment, watching a cringey romantic comedy with you when your phone rang. You gave it a glance and cringed, your grandmother's name appeared on the screen with a image of the woman with an almost plastic smile.

"You should probably answer." Chan said, "Would make it worse if you didn't."

You gave your best friend a side eye. "Nah really?"

He laughed lightly as you answered the phone.

"Hi, honey, you are joining us this year for the whole family get-together aren't you?" The old woman's voice came through the speaker to your ear.

"Of course Grandma-" You started.

"That's what you said last year, and you didn't come."

You made a face, the reason you hadn't gone was because you were sick. "Things happen Grandma."

"And the year before that?"

You pursed your lips, glancing at Chan. You weren't avoiding your family really you were just... avoiding the conflict that ensued when you were with your family. And by conflict you meant the constant onslaught of questions and disappointed looks you got whenever your family asked about anything you were doing with your life.

"And anyway, it's been so long since we've heard from you, we want to see how you've been, keep the family together, bring new people in along the way." Your grandma sounded so happy.

"What do you mean?" You were confused by the "bring new people".

"Oh dear. Did your sister not tell you?" Your grandma sighed, "She has a surprise for us this year."

You sighed. Your little sister always was one better than you, or two, or ten...

"Y/n?" Your grandma's voice brought you out of your daze and Chan leaned forward looking at your face.

"I'll be there this year grandma, I promise."

"Alright. Bye bye honey."

"Bye..." You said in a small voice hanging up.

Chan smiled slightly at you. "So?"

"Help."

His eyes widened slightly before darting around. "You know I really would if I could read minds but it's awfully sad I cant."

You rolled your eyes at the man. "My family dislikes everything I do."

"And?" Chan leaned back, raising a brow.

"They don't dislike you."

"What are you trying to do here?"

You clasped your hands and gave your best friend the most innocent pure pleading gaze. "Come with me, so they won't hate on me."

Chan made a face. "No-"

"I'll pay for the wifi in your apartment for the next two- four months." You grabbed your friend's big hands in yours, "Please!"

"Just because they don't hate me doesn't mean they won't hate on you." Chan said exasperated.

"BUT they'll find someone to compare to you so I won't have to be put down by this." You give him a pleading look.

"Y/n. I've done a lot of dum shit before this is my limit."

"Channie!" You begged. "Come on! I'll pay your netflix subscription too!"

Chan groaned. "Fine! You're making me feel guilty."

"AH! You're the best Chan." You smiled hugging you friend.

He rolled his eyes and patted your hair. "You're lucky netflix is expensive."

So there you were dinner, with your family, your grandmother quick to jump and compliment Chan and compare your father and uncles to him when they were his age. Everyone complimenting your sister and asking her what the big news was. Your dad looked about ready to leave when your younger sister stood. tapping her spoon against her glass gently.

You looked at her, she smiled at you, a smile you couldn't read.

"I have a big announcement to make." She looked at her boyfriend. "Well.. we have a big announcement to make."

"What is it dear?" Your mother asked.

"We're getting married!" Your little sister jumped and smiled. Everyone started clapping.

The initial excitement and congratulations ended, leaving a gently chattering at the table.

Cue your grandmother.

"Y/n dear, what about you?"

Silence.

Everyone looked at you.

Your sister sighed slightly. "Granny, you can't pester her. Give her time, she might get married before 40."

A soft laugh rippled over the table, you stared at your little sister. She smiled innocently, your fist clenched under the table. So what if she was younger and prettier and more successful. You made a move to excuse yourself but Chan grabbed your fist under the table, you relaxed your grip and his fingers slipped between yours and squeezed gently. Your heart skipped a beat and you looked up at your best friend, smiling.

Her Majesty the Queen 01:53 She was obviously out to get you.

Butt Hunter 01:53 I agree

🐶 01:54 Go to the wedding in white.

Baby Chick 01:54 💀

. Me 01:54 I'm NOT going to my sister's wedding in white!

Beanie boy 01:54 He's giving real solutions here.

Squirrel 01:55 Just don't go?

Bread. 01:55 All you do is avoid conflict.

Squirrel 01:55 NO I DONT

Noodle Spirit Survivor. 01:56 shut up. it's 2 in the fucking morning.

. Me 01:56 Sorry Chan, we'll shut up now.

Beanie boy 01:56 Erm actually it's 1:56 AM

🐶 01:56 It's called silent old man.

Bread. 01:56 LMFAO

Baby Chick 01:56 LOL

Butt Hunter 01:56 I don't think his phone box has a silent button.

Squirrel 01:57 😭

Her Majesty the Queen 01:57 💀

You put your phone down and picked up the invitation to your sister's wedding, 4 months... all you had was 4 months to get someone to go to the wedding with. You sighed, going to the app store and downloaded for the nth time, tinder. Cringing.

You had four months to at least meet some expectations, get a nice guy for maybe a month or two, ask him to be your plus one to your sister's wedding then what? You shrugged to yourself and shoved your phone under your pillow before going to sleep.

Chan realized he was screwed, he watched you get ready for another date.

"Honestly." You sighed sitting down to put on your makeup. "I might just go with a random guy. Or maybe I could take Hyunjin or Jisung."

He pursed his lips. Was he even an option for you? What made this guy from tinder so important you had to doll yourself up to go see him. Chan bit his lip, you were his best friend, he could fix the problem, he could be your plus one, he could ask. but he didn't. He was too scared to.

He remembered his conversation with Changbin and Minho a few days earlier. Maybe he was being too much of a pussy. He'd known you for ages, he knew how you liked your coffee and the music that calmed you down, he knew what part in silly romance movies made you cry, he knew when you were uncomfortable and when you were too angry to speak.

"If you keep beating around the bush with how you feel you might never get a chance."

Changbin's words rang in his ears and he bit his lip.

"Y/n what if-" He started.

The doorbell rang as you finished applying your lip stick. "Oh, I gotta go Channie." You stood and hugged him. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck." Chan gave you a small smile and the moment you were out the door he was cursing himself for not stopping you. "Damnit."

Chan wished he hadn't wished you luck. You and Seokmin, your date, apparently hit it off. For the next two and a half weeks Chan felt like a third wheel in his own friendship with you, if you weren't on the phone with Seokmin, you were texting him, and if you weren't texting him, you were talking about him.

It really came to a head when Hyunjin invited the entirety of the group chat to go out for karaoke and you were busy with Seokmin the day off.

It hand't really been his intention to show up at your place angry, just the thought of you not just ghosting him but the whole friend group. He knocked a few times. no response.

Chan knocked again. he still got no response. Sure the key in the dirt of the potted plant hanging under the sign of your apartment number was for emergencies only, but this was an emergency. (to him anyway.)

Chan opened the door and entered your apartment, expecting to hear lewd sounds or... what else was he really expecting. But as he approached your door his heart ached. It wasn't a sound he heard often from you but it was one he could recognize any day. Chan pushed the door open slowly. You sat on your bed, hugging a pillow, eyes red and puffy, tears streaking your face, you didn't notice him until he closed the door gently behind himself.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

You quickly wiped your tears. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

Chan sighed. "Come here." He sat on the bed and opened his arms.

You leaned into him muttering, "Seokmin is a dumass."

"What happened?" Chan asked, rubbing your shoulder gently.

"He blocked me." You sniffed. "Out of the fucking blue."

Chan hummed softly. "His loss."

You looked up at your friend, "You're so dum."

"Nuh uh, I think I'm pretty smart princess." Chan smiled gently.

"I don't think so." You laughed softly.

He looked down at you. "'M smart enough to stay your friend."

You nod slightly, "I stayed attached to you at the hip is more like it."

"Didn't have a problem with it."

"Chan." You rubbed your friend's arm.

"Hm?"

"Go with me."

"Where?" he asked dumbly.

You sat up and flicked his forehead. "You know where."

"I don't get anything out of it." He rubbed his forehead.

"I'll uh..."

"Worry about it later." He huffed and stood, smoothing your hair. "Should we get (comfort food)?"

"I was wondering when you'd ask." You punched him softly and led the way out of your room.

The day of the wedding you were wearing a long pastel blue dress, and Chan a matching suit, it wasn't the first time you'd matched with your best friend, but this felt more special. Your grandmother and parents gave you side ways glances during the wedding procession, and once the reception had started so did your grandma's vulture like flocking.

"Y/N i really thought you would've come with someone other than Chan, maybe your sister was right you just need time." the old woman sighed.

You sucked in a breathe but Chan grabbed your hand under the table, his words making you freeze, "Is there a problem with me attending as her boyfriend?"

You turned to Chan and he squeezed your hand as if urging you to play along.

Your grandmother looked at you stunned. "What? Since when?"

"The dinner really opened my eyes, maybe guys don't approacher because I'm around, I do look like her boyfriend don't I?" He glanced at you, "Why not give it a shot?"

Your family must have heard your grandmother's cry because your mother and father came over a few moments later and you watched as Chan worked his charm, a mask on his face the entirety of the time.

Your sister looked between you and Chan, blinking quite a bit. As your parents congratulated you on not being single for the first time, you felt like you out did your sister, you looked at Chan, he smiled gently at you and your heart jumped.

After a lot of drinks and cake you decided it was time to head home.(Chan had to drag you out.)

The ride back to your apartment was quiet, you were too buzzed to speak and Chan was focused on driving.

Chan smiled softly, glancing at you. "Wasn't so bad was it?"

You took a moment before you spoke. "Did you mean what you said?"

Chan's brows furrowed, "About what?"

"Did you actually think of me like that after the dinner?" You looked at him.

Chan sucked a breath, squeezing the wheel. "Would you believe me if I said yes."

"I don't have a reason not to."

Chan pulled off the highway onto the smaller road that lead through the city and to your apartment.

"Well?" You asked.

Chan bit his lip and nodded. "I meant what I said."

You remained quiet until he pulled into your apartment complex. And even after he got you into your apartment. You stood there, looking at... Chan. Chan who knew you better than you knew yourself, Chan who always calmed you down, Chan who got angry for you, Chan who bought you food when you were sad and held you until you grew tired of it(you never did you never could), Chan your...

"You meant it?" You were completely sober now, picking up the conversation as if you hadn't been silent for the past half hour.

Chan nodded.

"Is that all there is to it?"

"No." he breathed, stepping closer to you.

"Tell me. What else?" You asked quietly.

"How do I even begin?" He laughed slightly. "I'm sorry-"

"Why are you apologizing?" You looked at him confused.

"For not telling you how I felt from the get go." he smiled, "If there's anything that makes me sleep at night it's you, if there's any place I feel safe it's with you. You make me more happy than I can describe with words alone, there isn't another person I'd be with in any life." He reached and caressed your cheek. "I wanted to fight myself when I let you go out with Seokmin. I want you, I need you, I..." He paused, scanning your face for a signal, any sign to keep going.

"You're going to shut up now when you're at the climax of your speech?" You laughed slightly.

He smiled and rolled his eyes, "I love you. I always have."

"You're really an idiot." You kissed him gently.

Chan blinked in shock. "I-"

You smiled, proud of yourself. "Now-"

Chan grabbed your face and pressed his lips to yours again, you stared for a moment before relaxing into the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck. His tongue fighting yours before he pushed into your mouth to taste you, biting your lip gently.

"Wanted to do that for so long." He breathed against your lips, pulling away slowly.

You grabbed his collar. "If you don't finish what you started I will."

Chan's eyes widened and a smirk grew on his face. He kissed you again and his hand moved to the back of your dress. "May I, princess?"

"You may." You giggled as he removed the dress and your made quick work of his buttons before he shrugged off the jacket and shirt, picking you up and carrying you to the bed.

You squeaked as he threw you onto the bed and got on top you. "Nervous?" he asked laughing lightly.

"No... Of course not." You said looking away.

He smiled and turned your head to face him kissing you passionately before he moved to suck a dark mark just next to your jaw. "So pretty, just for me."

You gasped softly and nodded. "Just for you Channie." Chan continued his assault on your neck before removing your bra and smiling at your chest, he kissed your lips gently. "This is my favorite part of you," He moved to kiss your chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth and biting gently, relishing in the cry that escaped your lips, "But this is second best."

You blushed, "Stop doing that?"

"Doing what?" Chan chuckled against your right breast, pinching the left.

"You-"

"Huh?" He kissed down your belly and bit hard beside your belly button.

"Ow-" You gasped and grabbed his hair.

"Gotta make sure they know you're taken if you wear a crop top." he murmured and moved lower kissing your thigh and pulling your legs apart. "This is mine hm? I think I waited for it long enough." He kissed your thigh before pulling your pantie off. He tossed it haphazardly over his shoulder. He took amount to admire you and you shifted slightly.

"Channie. You're staring." You muttered.

"That a problem princess?"

"Pervert." You rolled your eyes as Chan tugged you to the edge fo the bed.

He rubbed your clit with his thumb applying just enough pressure to make you moan, he smiled. "That feel good?"

You nodded, panting.

"Use your words." He said rubbing your clit a bit faster.

You moaned and tried to move away but his hand came to hold you down. "No, no."

You blushed, "Meanie."

He smirked kissing your belly before slipping a finger into you. You moan as your wall clenched around his digit, he moved it in and out slowly, thumb still working at your clit.

You gasped and bit your lip as he pushed another finger into you. He paused looking at you.

"What?" You tried to move for friction but he held you down.

"I want to hear you."

You blushed furiously, eyes wide.

Chan laughed lightly and started fingering you again, his middle and ring finger curling to find your g-spot.

You let out a loud cry and Chan smiled, he moved to kiss you, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, he started grinding his palm into your clit as his fingers moved deeper. You moaned into the kiss and squealed, legs kicking slightly. Chan slid a third finger into you and you squirmed.

"It's too much!" You whined.

"I think you can take it." He said kissing your neck, "Just a little bit more, princess, wanna feel you cum on my hand."

You moaned louder as he pinched your nipple, sucking on the other one. You gasped as he started grinding his tented crotch against your thigh.

"Are you going to cum for me?" he cooed into your ear. "Cum for me, please, princess."

You moaned loudly as you came hard on Chan's hand.

He hummed and lifted his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean before leaning to kiss you. "You taste good babygirl." He stood to remove his pants letting them fall to the floor.

You moaned at the lewdness of the action as Chan moved between your legs, tapping his cock against your clit.

"I'm gonna make you feel good, make you mine." He said, his voice thick with lust.

You bit your lip and nodded. "Please. "

Chan smiled kissing you gently as he pushed into you.

A throaty moan erupted from your throat and Chan groaned. "Sound so pretty," He pulled out slowly and pushed in deeply, you cried out at the slight burn. "I'm sorry baby," He kissed your cheeks gently. "Can I move now?"

You nod and before you could ground yourself Chan was pistoning into you, fucking you as if he wouldn't get to again. You held onto him tightly, clawing at his broad shoulders. He moaned and squeezed your hips tightly. "You're so tight princess."

He moaned softly against your neck, kissing and biting, leaving marks that would surely become hickeys by morning, as he rutted into you over and over. You moaned louder, panting into the heated kisses he granted you. The bed creaked and slammed against the wall with the force of it all, the sound of sin slapping against skin filling your bedroom, you were positive the neighbors could hear but it wasn't like you had room to care.

Chan's hand slipped between your bodies and he began rubbing your clit. "C'mon baby. Cum for me again."

Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as he began thrusting into you harder, hitting your g-spot.

"Cum for me princess." He said through grit teeth.

Another thrust sent you toppling over the edge and you came hard, vision going white as you let out a broken cry. Chan followed quickly, his thick length throbbing inside you as you milked him for everything he had. He kept thrusting his gaze distant and glassy.

You whimpered and trembled as he overstimulated you slightly. After a few more thrusts he finally slowed down and relaxed on top of you.

"Let me take you out on a date..." He muttered against your shoulder.

"I'd like that." You said running your fingers through his curly hair.

What da cringe ending 😭 I really want to thank everyone for 100 followers LOVE YALL <3 requests will reopen soon, I'm still busy with school but I hoped you liked this it took really long to make.

[killerlookz]

hiiiii i adore your writing soooo sooo much!! i was literally dancing in my room to joosts music and i thought of a new fic idea:3 can you write something where Joost comes back home and the reader is dancing to his songs in their apartment, the reader doesnt notice him at first, completely in the moment and when they do, they get all embarrassed and its all fluff and cute??(((:

awww this is so cute <33 ty sm anon!!!

Dance With Me? | Joost Klein

content: gn! reader, no warnings rlly! just fluff :-) the song in question for this fic is Joost Klein 2 btw! this fic contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

word count: 1.2k(just a wee little blurb!)

Sundays had always been your least favorite day of the week, a bleak reminder that the hours of the weekend were waning and you'd have to return to the monotony of the weekdays. Perhaps the worst part of Sundays was that they were your designated cleaning day, you would much prefer spending your last day free from work lazing on the couch or curled up in bed, but instead, once again you found yourself bouncing around your apartment straightening up whatever cleaning you had left unfinished throughout the week.

The silence of your empty apartment had been getting to you, bored out of your mind as you stood on a chair to dust off a bookshelf. The only thing you figured that would this slightly more tolerable was music at least the apartment wouldn't be so damn quiet.

You hop down from the chair, scurrying into the living room to turn on your speakers. It wasn't long until music was flowing into the apartment, loud, and probably obnoxious to the neighbors, but it hadn't been late enough to warrant a noise complaint- so they would just have to deal with it for now.

Among the many plusses of having a musician for a boyfriend, you had to admit being in possession of a stellar stereo system was definitely one of them. You had been able to hear the music just as perfectly as you pranced back into your bedroom, not exactly eager to get back to cleaning.

Though it would seem not much cleaning would get done after that point, more focused on the music than any of the tasks you had at hand.

"Joost Klein maar m'n stack die is groot!" You sang along with the lyrics that boomed over the speaker. Another plus of having a musician boyfriend was that he was a damn good musician., "De regering zoekt mij, maar ze vinden me nooit!"

You had found yourself jumping around to the music, a smile pressed onto your face as you swayed your head back and forth in time to the beat.

Still jumping, your arms in the air you start to spin around when suddenly the breath is knocked out of you at the sight of a figure in the doorway to your bedroom. Your body grows rigid, stopping dead in your tracks as your mind races to the worst-case scenario.

Luckily it hadn't exactly been the worst-case scenario, as your eyes focused and you were able to see your boyfriend leaning against the doorframe, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Why'd you stop?" He asks, clearly amused, "I was enjoying your performance. I think you might put me out of a job."

"Joost!" Your voice is sharp like you're scolding him for being in his own home. Your eyes widen at the shock, not having expected him to be home, much less having even heard him walk through the door, "I thought you said you'd be running errands all day."

Embarrassment begins to grow on your face, your eyes refusing to meet Joost's, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips as your body grows hot.

"I've actually been gone awhile," He chuckles, "I finished my errands."

"Hmm," You hum, looking down at your feet, "Time flies." You mumble.

"It does when you're having fun, which you looked to be having." Joost muses, an eyebrow-raising behind the thick rims of his glasses.

"Cleaning was getting boring," You shrug, still refusing to make eye contact out of sheer embarrassment.

Joost can clearly sense your unease as his smile still rests on his face, beginning to bob his head up and down, slowly walking towards you with some grove in his step,

"Maar ik blijf Joost en ik bleef in de derde zitten," Joost lowly sings along to his own voice over the speaker, his movements becoming livelier as he gets closer to you, "Soms haat ik kittens en haat ik ook science-fiction."

He grabs your hands, as to ask you to dance with him, but you're reluctant, only holding his hands in front of him as he dances on his own continuing to sing along to his own song.

"C'mon," He urges, "Dance with me?" An exaggerated pout rests on his lips as he stares down at you with big, blue, puppy-dog eyes. You can't exactly resist that look, slowly stepping back and forth to appease his request.

He pulls at your arms as he jumps up and down to the music, just about forcing you to move with more excitement, your embarrassment quickly subsiding as Joost dances in a manner similar to how you had been just moments prior.

"Joost Klein maar m'n stack die is groot!" Eventually, the two of you are singing, bouncing up and down in sync with each other and you can't believe you had ever been embarrassed in front of Joost in the first place. It had seemed so trivial now that the two of you danced together, after four years together you were sure you had seen each other in much more embarrassing situations, you knew better, that he would never pass any judgment on you, "De regering zoekt mij, maar ze vinden me nooit!" You practically yell to each other, oversized grins burned into both of your faces.

The song soon fades out, allowing for a song that wasn't Joost's to start playing.

"You've got some good music taste," Joost teases, the two of your movements dying down.

"Meh," You shrug, "Joost is kind of mid, I think Ski Aggu is better,"

Joost clicks his tongue, shaking his head in joking disapproval,

"You're lucky you're cute." A kiss is pressed against your forehead. The small gesture leaves you with butterflies in your stomach, despite the length of time the pair of you had been together, every touch from him seemed to feel like you were falling in love for the first time all over again.

"You get much cleaning done?" He pulls back

You look around the bedroom, the bed still unmade, clothes strewn upon your dresser, various items scattered around your desk. You feel yourself becoming stressed again at the task ahead of you.

"Not quite." You respond sheepishly, you sigh, "I should probably-"

"It can wait, relax, liefje," Joost cuts you off, "I think we should continue our little dance party."

"Easy for you to say when you've gotten everything you need to get done today,"

"Hmm," Joost puckers his lips, twisting his face into an expression that makes it obvious he's thinking, "How about..." He trails off for a moment, inching closer to you, "You stay here and dance with me, and I'll clean the whole apartment while you're at work tomorrow."

It's an easy proposition to accept, not having to clean? Fine by you.

"Deal?" He asks, smiling down at you.

"Deal," You quickly nod.

"Eh," he holds up a finger, "We need to seal the deal."

You raise your eyebrows up at him, waiting for what he's going to say next,

"You gotta give me a kiss to seal our deal,"

You giggle, standing up on your tip toes, placing both of your hands on Joost's shoulders as you reach up to press your lips to his.

He's quick to kiss you back, resting his hands on your waist as he engages you in a soft, passionate kiss.

"Okay," He nods, "Now it's a deal."

[i-cant-sing]

i miss salauddin sm pls give me more

hmmm I miss him too. ok how about some tooth rotting fluff?

Salauddin wakes up in the middle of the night, an hour before Fajr prayer. He always wakes up at the same time at night. He doesnt look to the other side of the bed, but he sees your form lying there, sleeping.

You never wake up for Tahajudd like him.

Salauddin makes his ablution, performs the Tahajudd prayer, making dua for you before anything else. He prays that you're always happy, prays for forgiveness from Allah on your behalf, prays to meet you in heaven. And then he makes a short prayer for himself, forgiveness for his past and future sins. He then prays Fajr, the morning prayer.

Salauddin then sits on the prayer mat, and he feels you sit beside him. He takes your hand in his, and starts tasbeeh on your fingers, counting them on your hands so that you get the reward too. He closes his eyes and he feels you lay your head on his lap. Usually, he would smile, but not today. He's mad at you today, and you know that. But you wont ever apologise, and he wont ever make you. He just needs to let it pass.

With his eyes closed, he recites the Quran. He's a hafidh, and he knows you're one too. But he still recites better. However, he loses his concentration today due to his frustration with you, and he hears the amusement in your voice as you correct his pronounciation, correct his mistakes.

Still he does not react. He keeps his eyes closed, his voice monotonous, not showing any signs of fluster. You cant get away with it everytime, not so easily at least.

He's mad at you. And you will know it.

After finishing recitation, he gets up and begins getting ready for the day. He hears you calling his name gently-

"Yusuf. Yusuf."

Yusuf. Only you are allowed to call him by his real name. And you use it to your favour, you know how his heart flutters at hearing his name roll from your tongue.

"Yusuf."

No. Not today.

He stands in front of the vanity, fixing his clothes. He wears his chaddar- the white chaddar you adore. Usually, he would wrap it around your shoulders, but not today.

Salauddin picks up the bottle of kohl, its the same one he bought you. He hears you whine his name as he places the kohl in his eyes. Usually, he would line your eyes with kohl before his, but not today.

Not after what you did last night.

He sits down in the balcony, the servant leaving a some dates and hot tea. He feels you sit opposite to him, trying to make him look at you, but he instead kept his eyes focused on the pyramids.

"Yusuf?"

Salauddin would usually feed you dates from his hands, after he took the seed out. He knows how it annoys you when your hands get sticky from the juices. But not today. Today, he only took the seeds out and put it in your plate and poured tea in your cup. You never had to use your own plate and cup, not when Salauddin fed you from his plate and shared his cup with you, blowing on the hot drink.

Not today.

He walks out of the room without eating, to attend to his duties. He didnt feel like having breakfast today, but he hopes you're not starving yourself at his expense... wherever you are. You dont follow after him when he left, you're a little short tempered like that. If he ignores you a few times, you give up trying to get his attention until he comes to you himself. You're not like him, you dont have patience for your beloved like he does.

But not today. Maybe some time apart will make you think about what you did.

Salauddin is fine as noon comes and he offers Dhudhr prayer, still no sight of you. You're probably taking a nap. He does get a little concerned after praying Asr, no sign of you all afternoon. Did you sleep through lunch?

Finally disturbed, he gives in and goes to look for you. He goes to the bedroom first, no sign of you. Then he makes his way to the dining hall, the library, before finally going to the stables.

He spots your figure there, standing in front of your favourite horse Rumi.

As always, he comes to you.

"Y/n."

He watches you turn away from him, crossing your arms over your chest with a huff. You're mad at him.

Salauddin's lip twitches.

"Y/n." He walks closer, coming up behind you.

"No." You say sharply as he tries to turn you around, shrugging his hand off your shoulder.

"Y/n-"

"No. I'm mad at you." You state.

"I know. I'm sorry." He apologises, as always. You never apologise.

You turn around, frowning at him. "You ignored me all day."

"I'm sorry."

"You misbehaved with me."

"I'm sorry."

"You didnt feed me."

"I'm sorry."

"You were mad at me." Were? So you know he's let go of his anger?

"I'm sorry."

"You should be."

He nodded. "I'm sorry."

"You didnt visit me all day."

"I'm sorry. I was going to now." He offered his hand. "Lets go?"

You smiled, finally letting go off the anger as you let him encase your hand.

Salauddin walked out of the stables, telling the servant to take care of the horses, especially Rumi.

A few minutes later, he reached the place he visited the most with you only.

The sun had set, the sky turning dark to indicate the time.

He looked at you. "Why dont you go in and wait for me? I just need to pray Maghrib."

You walked inside while he offered the evening prayer. And like every prayer, he prayed for you first, then his subjects and then himself.

He finished his prayer, and stood outside the entrance. He noticed a small flower growing outside. A pink flower. He plucked it gently.

With a deep inhale, he walked inside. His steps were gradual, despite it being darker than earlier. He knows you're not scared of the dark. Where you are, he hopes its not as dark.

He spots you sitting on the ground, waiting for him, looking sad. You perk up when you notice him.

"You came." You smiled. "You took so long."

"I'm sorry." He joined you on the ground, sitting next to you. "Here." He showed you the pink flower, watching your eyes lit up.

"Wow." You were in awe. "Its so pretty. Come on, place it."

With a smile, he nodded at your request. Salauddin took the flower and placed it on the grave.

The two of you sat in silence, and he felt you put your head on his shoulder.

"Only one flower? You should bring more." You complained.

He nodded. "Next time." He could never say no to you.

How could he explain to you that no matter how many flowers he dresses your grave with, you wont come back.

Salauddin stayed there for a bit longer, wiping his tears before returning home with you.

He offered the night prayer Isha, before lying in bed, where you were already waiting for him.

"Yusuf?" He opened his eyes. You were both lying on your sides, facing each other.

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry for not coming in your dreams last night." You pouted, surprising him as you apologised for the first time.

"I promise I'll visit tonight!"

Salauddin smiled. "Okay."

He could never be mad at you for long. He forgave you when you left this world, he can forgive everything else too.

Ngl, I cried writing this.

[brights-place]

Miles Morales Dating Headcannons

Pairings: Miles X Reader

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: Miles dating headcannons since my friend and I re-watched the ITSPV and ATSV together - When he had a crush on you! it was WILDDD! - he would act like a stupid nervous lovesick fool around you and it would be so cute !! - He would definitely stutter a bit when talking to you cause you're just so pretty! and handsome and gorgeous and... He could honestly go on forever about how you made him feel - Miles is the type of person who likes psychical touch and also like doing stuff for his partner

- In public Miles will hold your hand, but in private he's more touchy and likes to hold you in his arms as much as you would allow him to if your comfy!

- He loves cuddles! He especially likes to cuddle with you while watching movies, shows etc. _ He is also kinda into holding you while you play video games. When you play on your bed and just casually sit, he won't be able to help himself and hold you from behind with his head on your shoulder 

- Miles is the one to give you random compliments, they would be really cute and he would tell then only only, because of the fact that he things that stuff and wants to make you feel good about yourself 

- But another reason is the fact he just want to see you all flustered and red

- If you're a civilian, he won't let you get near battles at ALL! He doesn't want you get hurt and fear of losing you makes him overprotective more than usual at times he is spiderman and his job is to protect you

- Even though he doesn't want you to get near battles, he's aware that sometimes something might happen and he won't be able to be with you all the time to help you or protect you - Miles would try to teach you self defense to make sure you would be able to handle yourself when needed

- If you're a Spiderman like him from a alternate universe he is happy cause you know his struggles but when your paired on missions besides focusing on it he will also look after you

- this boy does not play with his girl and mom so you better believe that he was so happy that his mom loved you so much.

- at first he was worried that his mom wouldn’t accept you or get along with you because in that case he would’ve panicked abit yeah he is worried about his fathers opinion but not as much as his mothers!

- kiss him and he'll immediatley melt like putty telling you how much he loves you

- I KID YOU NOT! 1000%! homeboy would probably have a spotify playlist that has songs that remind him of you

- you guys would also maybe have a shared one of your fav songs

- His idea of a date is probably you guys in his bedroom or yours, you either laying on him or cuddling with him, maybe while he doodles or you guys watch a movie

- he doesnt do extravagant dates and gifts, but its the little things that count

- Love language is Acts of service & Quality time

- He likes to call you nicknames, but in Spanish, Especially when flirting with you when he's bold enough!

- I love miles so much I will act up! by act up I mean I would hug him and cry at how adorable he is

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[peachyogurtwithchocolate]

Sebastian SDV Dating Headcannons

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A/n: Hey guys I just wanted to say thank you so much for getting me to 50 likes on my blog!! It means so much to me💜

Please ask me for writings/prompts! I would love to get to know you guys. I'll write full stories, headcannons, fluffs, smuts, you name it! Just respect the boundary of no noncon, age gap, or other controversial things relating smut. Thanks!

As mentioned before, I absolutely love it when you guys reblog my stuff but just dont claim it as yours!

As with every fanfic, these are just my opinions!

Word Count: still too lazy to do it😀

Warnings: my horrible spelling lol (none)

-----------------------------

I feel like telling Robin about dating him would be the most awkward thing ever. I saw another blog saying that ot would probably happen by her walking into Sebastian's room to see you too cuddling and i couldn't agree more. (Ps if anybody finds the author of that blog I'd love to mention them and give them credit)

There is never a truly dull moment dating Sebastion. Oh, its a rainy day on the farm? You bet your ass hes on his way to explore the caves with you in his free time

I feel like Sebastian isn't the biggest on PDA. Sure, he'll wrap an arm around your while playing pool with Sam at the Saloon, but not much more than that. He absolutely loves you and makes sure youre aware of it, but he likes to show his affection privately.

Speaking of, I think that Sebastian would enjoy spending quality time with you. One of the many perks of him working from home means that he typically has plenty of time to watch a cheesy horror movie or two.

Dont get me wrong, I think that Sebastion would still be into gift giving, but not nearly as much as just spending some time together. In my opinion, he probably doesnt super get the whole gift giving "just because" thing but he makes sure youre appreciated. Oh, he made some extra coffee because he couldn't sleep? He'll give it to the farmer

If youre like me and use the Stardew Wiki page religiously, then you'll also have an "insider's hint" you could say on his favorite gifts. When he gets a frozen tear from the farmer at the Feast of The Winter Star, hes actually kind of shocked. Other than Abigail, there isn't really anybody else in town that he talks to about it semi-odd likes and loved gifts.

If he were to get the farmer as a secret friend for the Feast of the Winter Star, however, he would totally get them a DND related gift. You mentioned a cool die that you've been wanting? Its already in his online shopping cart.

Back on the topic of movies, I think that Sebastion would like horror movies. Not just the jump scare type of horror, but the physcological type of horror, like the Blair Witch (one of my personal faves)

Dates are always interesting with Sebastian. Most of them are just spur of the moment decisions like "wanna go see if there are unexplored caves up in the mountains?" And other things like that.

Over all, I think that a relationship with Sebastian would include a lot of independence but also some really good quality time with some odd dates scattered in between. Just know that even if he takes a walk by himself that day, he still loves you with literally all his heart.

[youaintnothinbuta]

I ACTUALLY LOVE YOUR J.D X READERS!! I FOUND THEM THE OTHER DAY AND I CANNOT GET OVER THEM. SO CAN I GET A JD x FEM!READER BUT SHES LIKE SUPER OBLIVIOUS. AND J.D GETS FRUSTRATED BECAUSE WE KNOW HIM AND JUST CHAOS ENSUES BECAUSE HE THINKS THERES SOMEONE HE DOESNT KNOW ABOUT AND THATS WHY SHES NOT RESPONDING TO HIS FLIRTING.

I really hope you love this as much as I do!!

“Are you that oblivious? Really?” Jason Dean x reader

Summary: See request

Pairing: Jd x fem!reader

Word count: 744

Warnings: fluff! Some swearing though. Also probably typos you know me <3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You’d gone out to a party with the heathers one night, unfortunately this party wasn’t exactly smooth sailing (not that any of them really were) and you ended up at Jd’s house, not wanting to face your parent’s impending scolding for coming home so late.

“Jd.” You mumbled his name as you stumbled through his window. Didn’t help that you weren’t exactly sober and his room wasn’t exactly lit.

“Y/N? What the fuck?” He was startled at someone entering his room.

“I didn’t really have anywhere else to go. Is your dad home?” You asked, trying to manage your way through his bedroom.

“Probably not.” He muttered, his irritation palpable.

You felt your way around, sitting down on his desk, looking towards what you could only assume was the direction of his bed.

“What do you want Y/N?” He stood up and flicked his light on.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked, nonchalantly.

Wow. The audacity of you.

That question was beyond frustrating for him, to the point where his frustration was beginning to boil over. He gave you a blank stare, mixed with confusion and anger, half expecting you to take it back.

“No— Ye— I don’t know!” Jd exclaimed, his voice edged with exasperation. He ran a hand through his hair, leaning his back against his door in vexation.

You sat there, bewildered at his sudden change in energy, “what?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to regain his composure. “Just tell me, Y/N, is there someone?”

“What, someone? What?” You were utterly confused by the direction of this conversation.

“God, Y/N, do I have to spell it out for you? Are you with someone? Is there a guy you are seeing?”

“What the fuck? No! Where’d you get that idea from?”

“Because! I practically laid out a red carpet for you! And I got nothing! Are you that oblivious, really?” He began making his way over to you.

You furrowed your brow, still clueless about what was happening. “Jd, I’m kinda tipsy and confused. What’s happening? Why are you getting so upset?”

“I’ve been practically waving a flag in your face begging for a chance and you refuse to acknowledge it! And you have the nerve to come in here and ask me if I’m mad at you? So, yeah, actually, I am pretty upset.” He ranted as he stood in front of you.

Your eyes widened in shock as realisation slowly dawned on you. “You’ve been asking me out?”

Jd let out a frustrated groan. “Yes, Y/N, God, have I been.”

You bit your lip, now feeling a little guilty, seeing how much you were unknowingly hurting his feelings.

“I had no idea, Jd, really. I didn’t think you were interested in me that way.”

He sighed, his anger beginning to subside, now that he’d aired everything out. “Well I am, and now you know. It’s been driving me crazy.”

You reached out to him, placing a hand on his arm. “I promise, I never meant to ignore you. I just didn’t realise what was happening.”

He sighed, looking at you looking at him, “If I asked you right now if you’d want to—“

You silenced him with a lingering, passionate kiss, your fingers bunching his shirt together to let him know you really meant it. His body gravitated closer to yours, you were seated on the edge of his desk, your knees making space for his body, your proximity making his heart race. When the kiss finally broke, he pulled away slightly, his intense gaze fixed upon you, and a playful yet intrigued eyebrow raised in question.

“I want to.” You affirmed with a decisive nod, your heart racing as you felt a gentleness in his energy as he stood so close to you.

He stepped away, the two of you both slightly pink in the cheeks as you mentally acknowledged what just happened.

“Did you need me to take you home?” He asked.

Your shook your head, Jd’s lips parted in a small ‘ah’ as he realised what you wanted, no need for you to ask. He pointed with his head in the direction of his bed to say ‘yes you can stay with me’. A smile played on your lips as you accepted the unspoken invitation, and you crawled onto his bed, settling in comfortably.

With a flick of the switch, the room descended into darkness, and he joined you, laying by your side.

[hxxsxxng]

JAY 박종성 - CRIMSON HONEY : III

MINORS DNI

Word Count : 2.6k

Genre : Smut, Fluff, AU

Content : Biting, blood, teasing, face fucking, gagging, tears, unprotected sex, oral f and m, first time anal, painful sex, creampie, and probably a lot more that i missed

Synopsis: after tempting the powerful vampire, she recieves a punishment that doesnt seem so bad.

Authors note: This is my first time writing anal so please leave me some feed back<3

SUPPORT BY REBLOGGING if you want

taglist : @jakeflvrs

He laughs softly. “That is a rather good question, princess” he responds sarcastically. “Do you have a suggestion?” She says , turning around to face him. “I wouldn’t mind biting you” he states. She shivers uncontrollably at his blunt statement. “I wouldn’t mind having you bite me either” she retorts, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. He leans into her, placing a kiss upon her lips. “I want nothing more than to mark you as mine. I don’t want you to go back home” he whispers against her mouth. He presses himself closer to her. Their chests are pressed flush together.

She feels his arms tighten their grip on her. Her breathing hitches slightly and her heartbeat quickens. He lifts her up in his arms, carrying her across the room, laying her tenderly down on the bed.

“You are so damn tempting, Princess” he whispers seductively against her ear. “Why am I only allowed to look at you when you're wearing my clothes?” he mutters against her throat. She gasps at his words. Her hands find their way underneath his shirt, brushing against the warm skin of his abs and resting over his muscular chest. He tenses underneath her touch. She hears his sharp intake of breath and the slight tremble of his muscles beneath her palms as she slides her hand along his abdomen, stopping momentarily at the hem of his boxers, sliding her hand under his underwear. She feels his erection press into her hand as he groans loudly. She giggles , tracing her index finger over his erect member. She continues to tease him and he grips her wrist, pulling her palm down and pressing a soft kiss against the top of her hand.

“Don’t tempt me. Don’t you dare tempt me. I cannot control myself right now. You’re killing me.” he growled. She giggles once more, her hand continuing its journey of his boxers and pulling them down just enough for her to reach underneath and stroke him. “Please stop teasing me…I can’t control myself much longer” he pants as her hand travels upwards. “Is that a promise?” she purrs playfully while moving her finger ever further upwards. He grunts as he tries to contain his desire. She finally reaches the crown of his erection and wraps her thumb around the tip, massaging it. He arches his back in pleasure as he moans deep in her throat.

Jay couldn’t take it anymore, he looks down into her innocent eyes and quickly sank his teeth into her neck. But this time, she did not react negatively. She seemed like she liked it. Way different than the night prior. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as she arched he back toward Jay on top of her. Jays hunger was being satisfied by biting the girl that has been driving him crazy for weeks. He licks and nibbles on her neck, savoring the taste, the feeling of her skin and the delicate fragrance that filled his nostrils. The sweet taste of her blood was so intoxicating. He felt like he was going to be drunk on it. Blood was dripping down her neck and onto the sheets. When he finishes leaving the first mark of her neck, he lets his tongue trail up to her ear lobe.

“I will make you feel better than before” he whispers. With his free hand, he begins unbuttoning her shorts. His fingers grazes along the soft, pink flesh of her inner thigh until he reaches the small zipper at the bottom. He opens the zipper. Slowly. Carefully. He wants to prolong the pain for as long as possible. As soon as she realizes what he is about to do, she stops him by placing her hand over his lips.

“Jay” she murmurs softly. “Let me go first”. “Okay…but make sure you behave yourself” he says. She smiles and lowers her hand. She pulls his boxers down his legs slowly, allowing her eyes to feast upon the sight before her. Jays breath hitches as his cock springs free, coming in contact with the cold air. She takes the length into her hand and slowly strokes it.

“God baby it feels so good” he praised while throwing his head back. She signals for him to get off of her and stand up. She crawls towards the end of the bed and off, onto her knees. She teases the tip of his throbbing cock with he tongue, not daring to let it deeper into her mouth. She brings the head down to the tip of her tongue again and sucks gently, earning a groan from Jay. “Fuckkkkk..” he groaned. She looked up at him through her lashes and and continued to suck with a seductive look.

Jay could not take it anymore, he needed his dick engulfed inside her warm mouth. Now. He grabs a handful of hair from the back of her head and started pounding into her throat relentlessly. Each time his tip reached down her throat, she would gag. Her eyes are filled with tears as she continued to make eye contact with Jay. “God you are taking my dick so good princess.” He moaned. She panted as she continued to swallow down his thick shaft. “Shit, fuckkkk…you know how good it feels? Gagging on my cock for me?”he groaned, his eyes were glazed over and lustful. She whimpered softly at his words but didn’t respond verbally. She continued to pull and lick at him. She knew if she said anything, he would probably just speed things up and she isn’t ready for any of that yet. His eyes began rolling back.

Jay felt his orgasm slowly approaching, but he could not finish yet. He quickly pulled out of her mouth before it was too late and aggressively grabbed her and threw her onto the bed. “Spread your fucking legs” he ordered. She obeyed and let her legs fall to her side and Jay slowly crawled between her legs. She spread her legs slightly further apart for him as he positioned himself at the very top, right in front of her pussy. “You are so wet…so perfect…just like this. I can feel your clit throbbing just waiting for me” he whispered huskily as he slowly began to lick and suck at the entrance of her pussy. He was skilled with his tongue, he grazed it between her wet folds perfectly, while keeping grip on her thighs. “God you taste like fucking heaven” he muttered breathlessly against her. He took her into his mouth completely, swirling his tongue around the head of her sensitive clit before giving her access to his mouth. “Fuck it, princess” he urged her.

She began to rock her hips back and forth, rubbing her pussy against his tongue. She moaned out in pleasure as Jays tongue hit all the right spots. “Yes, yes. Oh fuck” she groaned quietly. Jay felt her walls tightening around his tongue, trying desperately to push him away. She bit down on her own lip while pushing herself harder into his mouth. She begins to close her legs as her orgasm starts to wash over. Her clit is too sensitive to take any more.

“I’m not done” he demanded, forcing her legs back open. All she could do was cry out in pleasure. Her moans turning into whimpers and then into breathlessness. Pleasure was clouding her mind and all Jay was doing was sucking her clit. “Cum all over my tongue, princess. I want to taste it” with the cue that it was okay, she let it all out. She was barely even able to form any coherent words as Jay left he legs vibrating uncontrollably.

He wanted to see the full extent of what he had created. She turns around so that her back was facing him. He watches her as she rocks her ass back and forth, rubbing her clit against the head of his cock. He grabs her hips and forces her down, burying himself in her hot center.

They both moan in unison. Jay starts thrusting into her roughly and he slams into her. She clenches around his erection, holding onto his wrists tightly. His pace is becoming fast and rough. Her body moves in rhythm with his thrusts. They are both desperate, they want more. It wasn’t enough.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck this pussy hard for so long” he groans as he consistently grazes her cervix. “So hard” he adds, pumping into her roughly with every word. His eyes are half closed from the sheer ecstasy he was experiencing. He was feeling dizzy, he felt like he was floating. He leans forward with one hand planted firmly at the headboard and the other still held securely onto her wrists. He begins to pound into her with increasing vigor and she begin to moan, arching her back as another orgasm threatens to rush through her body. He pumps into her cunt relentlessly.

As Jay's movements gradually slowed down, his breathing heavy and ragged, he withdrew from her with a deliberate, almost torturous slowness. A sense of emptiness engulfed her as she lay there, her body still humming with pleasure. The room was thick with the musky scent of sex.

His eyes roamed over her form, taking in every curve, every quiver of her spent body. There was a hunger in his gaze, a primal need that seemed to match the rhythm of her own racing heart. He felt like a predator hunting its prey. And then, without a word, without a warning, he shifted his focus to a new target.

The head of his cock traced a slow, deliberate path along her slick folds, teasing and tantalizing, before venturing to a place she had never explored with anyone before. The sudden intrusion, the pressure against her tight sphincter, sent a jolt of mixed sensations through her body. Pleasure mixed with an equal amount of discomfort.

She gasped, a sharp intake of breath as he pushed past that final barrier, his movements slow and deliberate. His gaze never wavered, locked onto her beautiful figure.

But as he delved deeper, as he slowly began to move within her in this uncharted territory, she felt a strange sense of surrender wash over her. The initial discomfort gave way to a new kind of pleasure, a sensation that was both foreign and exhilarating. Her body responded to his every movement, her own desires blending with his.

Her hands released their hold on his wrists as they fell onto the bed. In response, Jay wrapped his arms around her stomach and squeezed her waist. She laid there, motionless under his touch, letting him fill her ass hole up to the brim, to the absolute limit.

“No more, please no more, I can’t take anymore” she cried out in overstimulation. “Oh sweetheart, you cannot tell me that you don’t crave my dick inside you right now. Your hole just keeps sucking me back in” he argued. ”It feels too good to stop.”

He slams back into her, he feels his orgasm coming close. ”Do you want it? Do you want me to fill this tight little ass with my cum?” he says as a breathy moan. Sweat is dripping down his forehead as he grips her harder. “Please fill me up Jay…. I neeed it” she begged. Not even a second later, he releases his cum into her, pulling his cock in and out, the more white it turned. There was so much cum, dripping out of her ass, running down into her pussy and down her thighs.

He pulls his cock out completely, admiring the beautiful holes that he just fucked. Her arms become completely weak and she plops down on to the bed.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” he suggests. He helps her off the bed and grabs a towel, wrapping it gently around her body as she was shivering violently. He picks her up and carries her to the bathroom. He turns on the bath as soon as he opens the door, gently placing her on the tiled floor. He lets to tub fill up a comfortable amount before helping her step in. Her whole body is sore and she is barely able to move, but with what energy she has left, she attempts to put her head under the faucet.

“Don’t worry about it baby, I will take care of you” he cooed. He guided her head under the faucet, allowing her hair to get wet enough to wash. Jay grabs a shampoo bottle and squirts a glob into his and , and gently massages her scalp.

“Thank you Jay” she said, clearly worn out. He looks back down at her and gives her a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. “Anything for you, sweetheart” he said lovingly. He grabs her hand and guides it into the water. He guides the sponge over her body and gently rubs it around. “Now take a few deep breaths” he told her calmly. He takes her by surprise as he kisses her softly on her lips. It was short and sweet.

Jay seemed a lot more caring than before. Not just that he is cleaning her up, but the small intimate gestures he does kind of make her rethink if she is really opposed to the idea of liking him.

[kazumist]

WHITE TULIPS .ᐟ

✩ — gepard doesn't know how to make it up to you so he goes to serval for some advice.

✩ — includes: gepard x gn!reader. fluff. no cws. wc: 977. he's so silly and he doesnt know how love works at all isnt he the absolute cutest? reblogs are very much appreciated !!

“how do you… make it up to someone?”

“what?”

an awkward silence took over serval’s workshop after that. it wasn’t rare for her brother to suddenly visit, and it certainly wasn’t rare for her brother to ask for relationship advice either.

“what have you done this time?” serval asks his brother, arms crossed, as she looks at him disapprovingly. gepard looks away from her sheepishly in return. serval couldn’t help but sigh. “let me change the question to: what do you need help with this time?” she asks again.

it was gepard’s turn to sigh this time. “i had forgotten that we were supposed to go out yesterday and i wasn’t able to come on time. there was a sudden order that was issued to me and…” he sighs again. “you probably know how it ends.”

serval looks at him more disapprovingly and gepard just wants to shrink at her gaze.

“well, obviously you need to take a day off so you can make it up to them,” she says, a hand on her hip. serval isn’t surprised that gepard would come to her for this. after all, romance was unfortunately not her little brother’s forte, despite the fact that he inherited great looks from the landau bloodline. as gepard was about to speak, she cut him off. “nope, not hearing it! you need a break from your line of work too, geppie.”

“... i was about to ask what we should do on that day off.”

oh.

“oh! sorry, my bad.” serval laughs it off awkwardly and gepard just shakes his head at her. “well… let’s start with the basics. have you tried giving them flowers?” he shakes his head no. “then perfect! this is your chance. try getting some white tulips before you approach them on your day off. i heard white tulips are counted as an apology flower.”

after a bit of more advice, gepard left his sister’s workshop as she waved him goodbye. now, it's time to prepare for how he’ll make it up to you.

-

when the day arrived, gepard made his way to a flower shop nearby in search for some white tulips to purchase. he hasn’t really talked to you that much ever since that day, only because both of you are too tired and you don’t really see each other much despite living in the same quarters. (either gepard would come home too late or he would leave the house too early.)

strolling along the shop, he finally found what he was looking for. however, fate has other plans for him.

“gepard?” he heard from behind.

everything that was moving around him seemed to have stopped and he was frozen in place. he recognized that voice from anywhere—after all, it was your voice. gepard immediately had only three seconds to think of a response. but again, fate seemed to have some other plans for him because he couldn’t think of a response at all.

slowly turning around to face you, you were greeted by gepard who’s currently coughing into his closed fist with a hint of blush covering his cheeks. he’s embarrassed, you think. and you couldn’t help but find it adorable.

“you seem to be here as well,” he awkwardly says, desperately trying to hide the white tulips behind his back. “i decided to stop by to admire the pretty flowers, you?” as of the moment, everything wasn’t going according to gepard’s plan. his plan was to get you the flowers, pick you up, and spend the whole day with you as a way to make up for his past mistake.

however, as if fate is laughing at him right now, he just had to run into you at the flower shop. step one of the plan has already failed.

“i was just buying some flowers myself,” he replies, somewhat getting his composure back but you could still see his ears a bit red. you took note of his appearance right now—casual clothes and his favorite wrist watch (the one you gave him for his birthday) on his left wrist.

yep, he was definitely about to ask you out today.

truth be told, you heard from serval about the whole conversation she had with her brother. and that’s when you knew that he was anticipating this day. you knew gepard like the back of your hand, so of course he would take the closest date as his day off. but you were simply passing by the flower shop! you didn’t know about gepard’s plan at all (after all, serval was vague with her advice in the first place).

“really? are they the flowers that you’re hiding behind your back right now?” you chuckle, trying to peek at his back. gepard quickly hid it from your view and cleared his throat. “y-yes. actually, i do need to talk to you about something…” as gepard tries to find the right words to say, you beat him to it. 

“yes, i would love to go out with you today, geppie.”

of course, gepard was shocked. how did you know? he knows his sister isn’t the one who would snitch on him when it comes to this type of thing. “how did you…?”

“it was a bit obvious,” you giggle. you take a step closer to him, pressing a kiss on his cheek. “i’ll wait for you outside.”

it was a bit upsetting how you couldn’t properly talk things out about what happened that day but you really had forgiven gepard before this day off came. however, you knew that this probably wouldn’t be the first time it'd happen. relationships aren’t supposed to be all about sunshines and rainbows anyway.

let’s just say that the one who had a shift that time in the flower shop watched the two of you in envy by the counter, even more after gepard was done paying.

[girasollake]

˚♡ ⋆two of cupsੈ♡˳

pairing: neteyam x fem!mangkwan!reader

!disclaimer! there is pretty much nothing we know about this clan but since i saw they are like ‚spiritual masters’ or something i thought i would use their name because it fits the story!

requested: no

type: angst/fluff

summary: (i am so bad at writing these) the reader is part of the clan you mostly hear about in legends, they are spiritually connected to eywa, more than any other tribe. she has to run away after the sky people destroyed her village and she meets a boy. his energy calls to her and she doesnt know why. both of them are children of clan leaders and both of them need to find a mate due to their age (both are around 18-20), they feel the pull towards each other and dont know that their fate was already written in the stars (its me, im the stars)

warnings: death of a loved one, injuries, mentions of blood and wounds, breakdown, grief, a happy ending

a/n: i hope you guys will like this one because i came up with the whole clan for the sake of the story lmao, but even if you wont like it i still hope you enjoy reading it!// gif is from pinterest, all credits to the owner!

word count: 5,818 

[there may be some errors, because i’m too lazy to check it lol]

╰┈➤ a little glossary:

*Faysawtute! Wiya! - These sky people! Dammit!

** Oel ngati kameie, Olo’eyktan, Tsahik - I see you, Olo’eyktan, Tsahik

***evi - kid(in an affecionate way kinda)

You weren’t sure how you ended up in that place. The last thing you remember is running away from the sky people who had somehow found your village, the screams of your people started echoing in your brain. You sat up and analyzed your surroundings carefully - the forest around you was vast and mysterious, you have never went into this part of Pandora before. You needed to find your friends, your parents, your ikran, but the only things you could see were trees and bioluminescent plants. A hiss escaped your lips when you stood up, blood was running down your leg and you noticed a big wound it was coming out of, a stab wound. All of this wasn’t unfamiliar, you have fought against the sky people before, but this time they were hungrier for blood than ever, targeting your tribe and searching for you. Your clan had knowledge others didn’t, your people had a special connection to Eywa which presented itself in the fact that your hair was white. You were hiding in the shadows, often migrating and avoiding direct contacts with others, to other tribes yours was just a legend. You almost never engaged, only when it was necessary, and even though you should have gotten rid of the strange enemies from the other planet – your father decided to keep moving and put the fighting behind you. You didn’t blame him, there has been enough bloodshed and there were only 87 of you left, well, now probably less than that.

‘Faysawtute! Wiya!*’ You cursed and pressed on your wound as you walked over to the nearest plant with long leaves.

You tore one of them out of the plant and used it as a bandage, as well as some small vines you found nearby. A faint sound of an animal could be heard in the distance and you were thankful you still had your bow and arrows; your knife however was nowhere in sight. You sat down on the ground, closed your eyes and pressed your palm to the ground, you needed to feel her so that she could lead you to one of the sacred places. A few deep breaths calmed your body down and you opened your eyes rapidly, your ears going down – you felt her. After standing up you started following your gut, you had learned to trust it as much as possible. You tried to stay focused on the energy flowing through your body as well as the one flowing through the forest, but those beautiful plants had caught your eye way too many times for your liking, causing you to lose that focus.  With each step you felt weaker and even more tired, the journey was taking too long, you felt as if you had been walking for eternity. The sun started showing up, soft light reflected in your sleepy eyes and something in the horizon suddenly caught your attention, you stopped in your tracks. A big tree, with white long vines and a strong aura you could see from far away - the source of power. You smiled to yourself and resumed your walk, you couldn’t give up now, she would heal you at last. When you finally reached the tree, you collapsed at the bottom of its trunk. Your hands took one of the vines and connected it to your queue making a tsaheylu. Your pupils dilated as the purest energy of all flowed slowly through your weak body. Next thing you remember was darkness.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

A sound of flapping wings caused you to open your eyes. You quickly disconnected from the tree and ran behind one of the larger roots to hide. As you were putting one of your arrows on the bow you heard the stranger approaching you. You stood up and pointed your weapon at them, but this wasn’t an enemy - it was a young Na’vi boy, probably close to your age. His bow was also ready to fire an arrow at you and you could tell he was confused too, because his eyes were scanning your body in a rapid pace. When you finally locked eyes, you lowered your weapon. However, he was still holding his up, cautious of you and your actions. But you knew better, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you; it was visible in his eyes that he was not a killer.

‘Who are you?’ He finally asked. ‘Are you an avatar?’

You tilted your head, confused about the new word he used, ‘What’s an avatar?’

He lowered his bow and hung it on his body, ‘Come.’

You didn’t move.

‘You’re Omaticaya, right?’ A question left your lips.

He nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but he shut it just as quickly.

‘What’s your name, boy?’

He grimaced at the last word, ‘Neteyam.’

‘(y/n)’ You replied.

For a moment you were standing there in silence, contemplating if you should ask for help. After all, you had nowhere to go to.

‘What are you doing here?’ He asked suddenly and stepped closer, which made you take a step back.

‘I got lost.’ You sighed. ‘The sky people found my village and the last thing I can remember is running away.’ You looked up at the tree. ‘I woke up in the forest and followed Eywa’s energy to find one of the sacred places to heal myself.’

‘Heal?’ He tilted his head in confusion once again.

You nodded, ‘I need your help.’ This time it was you who stepped closer. ‘I have to find my parents.’

He nodded, ‘I’ll take you to my grandmother, she’s Tsahik.’

Your ears perked up as you started following him to his ikran, ‘Who is the Olo’eyktan in your clan? Your grandfather?’

‘No, he died before I was born.’ He got on his ikran and offered you his hand. ‘My father is the leader.’

‘Hm.’ You quietly said and wrapped your arms around his chest gently.

You started wondering if you should tell him that you have that in common – being future clan leaders, that is. You knew the pressure, the responsibilities, the expectations and you could talk to him about that, but you wanted to keep that a secret for just a little longer. You could feel his strong energy, there was a certain feeling of calmness radiating from him and you swore it called to you. You have just met him, but he felt like an old friend, someone you never forget.

The ride was pleasant, you were curiously looking around and admiring the view. You thought he would take you to his home, somewhere in the forest, because after all the Omaticaya were a forest clan. It was surprising to say the least, when you landed inside a huge cave in one of the mountains.

‘I thought you were supposed to be tree people?’ You furrowed your eyebrows as you were looking around the village.

Neteyam helped you get down from the animal and softly laughed, ‘We are, but our home was destroyed.’ He looked down. ‘I never got to see it.’

You rested your hand on his arm and rubbed it softly, ‘I’m sorry, Neteyam. I am sure it was very beautiful.’

He sent you a soft smile which you reciprocated. Your eyes were locked with his, but he broke the eye contact due to something or rather someone coming from behind you. You turned around, a man was slowly approaching you, an elderly woman following after him.

‘That is father and grandmother.’ Neteyam stated from behind you.

‘Oel ngati kameie, Olo’eyktan, Tsahik.**’ You made the proper gesture and felt their tough gaze on you.

They greeted you in the same way and then looked at Neteyam. You knew exactly why they were confused just like he had been. It was because of your hair.

‘I come from the Mangkwan People.’ You announced in order to avoid unnecessary questions.

The Tsahik walked over to you and inspected your whole body, especially one part of it.

‘It’s been a while since I saw one of you.’ She said calmly. ‘Where is the rest of your clan?’

‘I don’t know.’ You sighed. ‘That’s why I’m here, I need to find them and I need help.’

She looked at Neteyam’s father who gave her a firm nod.

‘You can stay with us child.’ She informed you. ‘What are you called?’

‘(y/n) te Magte Leta’ite.’ You whispered your full name and the woman gasped softly, but didn’t say anything.

Neteyam exchanged a look with his father, both uncertain about the Tsahik’s reaction. The Olo’eyktan made a gesture towards his son to come closer and he whispered something into his ear. The young heir nodded and turned his attention to you.

‘Come, I’ll show you around.’

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

After a brief walk through the village, which mostly consisted of you trying not to pay attention to the people whispering as you walked by, you arrived at what you figured would be Neteyam’s home.

‘This is where we sleep. There is not a lot of space but I can give you my own area if you want to rest, I’ll just share with my brother.’

‘Oh, no, it’s okay. I can sleep on the floor, I don’t mind it.’ You chuckled. ‘No, but really, you don’t have to give up your space for me, I’ll be good with anything.’

He smiled at you and his eyes followed your movements as you were admiring the inside.

‘Forgive me for staring at you so much before.’ You turned around to face him. ‘I’ve heard legends about your clan and I was surprised that..’

‘I’m real?’ You softly laughed. ‘It’s okay, I know you don’t see people like me every day.’ Your happy expression faded away.

‘What’s wrong?’ He approached you.

You sat down without looking at him and he did the same, ‘There isn’t many of us left.’ You turned your head to look into his eyes. ‘That’s why you don’t see us often. We always run away, hide in the shadows, we don’t engage in anything… I’m sure your grandmother remembers the times when my clan would happily help others when in need, but times have changed. All I know how to do is run away.’

‘You don’t have to do that anymore, I’m sure your clan would be welcome here. To stay with us.’

You lifted one corner of your mouth, ‘Thanks, tree boy.’

‘Who is that, brother?’ Your focus shifted from the boy sitting next to you to the girls standing in the entrance.

‘(y/n).’ You answered before he could open his mouth. ‘May I know your names?’

‘I’m Kiri and this is Tuk.’ She replied and looked down at the smaller girl hiding behind her leg.

‘Come here, I don’t bite.’ You smiled at them.

They carefully came closer and sat in front of you. Their reaction was similar to everybody else, their eyes weren’t looking into yours, but above. You curiously looked Kiri up and down, there was something in this girl you couldn’t quite put into words, a powerful energy illuminated from her body.

‘Dad wanted to talk to you.’ She said to Neteyam.

‘Oh, okay.’ He quickly stood up. ‘I’ll be right back, treat her nicely, she’s our guest.’

He left their home, your gaze followed him as he got lost in the sea of other Omaticaya people. Meanwhile, Tuk was still taking in your strange looks, a confused frown was on her face.

‘You want to touch it?’ You asked her and she nodded eagerly.

She crawled closer to you and started playing with your hair, ‘It looks like it glows! Does it glow in the dark?’

‘Sometimes.’ You replied with a funny expression on your face.

‘Can you show me? Please!’

‘Maybe one day, okay?’ She nodded in reply.

‘Do you need someone to patch you up?’ Kiri asked.

‘Sorry, what?’ You gave her a confused reply to which she gave a nod towards your bandaged thigh. ‘Oh! I forgot about that. It’s okay, it’s fully healed.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because Eywa healed me.’ You replied while taking off the leaves and vines, Tuk was still playing with your hair.

‘What?’ Her ears perked up and she sat up straighter. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘When I connect to the source, such as your big sacred tree, I can transfer Eywa’s power into my body to heal myself.’ You explained like it was nothing. ‘See? All good.’ You showed her your thigh which  now only had a small, faint scar in the place you were stabbed.

You looked up to see her puzzled expression and it took everything in you to not laugh.

‘You need to teach me how to do it.’ She finally whispered.

‘I can try, but it’s a difficult craft. It requires patience, meditation, and strength, spiritual strength. My people start training the moment they connect with Eywa for the first time and it takes years to master it.’ You told her. ‘But I feel that you have all that is needed. I’ll teach you when the time comes.’

‘Really?’ She covered her mouth in shock. ‘Thank you!’

‘It’s nothing.’ You smiled and looked over at Tuk. ‘Are you having fun?’

‘Mhm!’ She exclaimed. ‘Can I braid some of it?’

‘Of course.’ Her smile warmed up your heart.

It’s been a while since you sat down and had your hair done by anyone, so why not let the little kid do it? You shifted your gaze to look outside and saw Neteyam talking to a girl. A light clench could be felt in your heart, why was your body doing that?

‘Is that your brother’s mate?’ You asked and gave a nod towards them.

Kiri turned around to see who you were referring to, ‘He hasn’t chosen yet. Mother is expecting him to do that soon but he keeps postponing it, he says he has to be sure.’ She explained and you felt a relief inside. ‘And that is Nelao, mother thinks she would be the perfect Tsahik, but I disagree.’

‘Why?’ Your curiosity won. ‘She looks nice.’

‘She does, but I just don’t feel like she’s the right fit for my brother.’ She murmured. ‘Nelao overheard my mother talking about her being the new Tsahik. Because of that she’s so certain he will chose her that she doesn’t even leave his side.’

‘You would be a better Tsahik, (y/n).’ Tuk peeped in.

You tilted your head and giggled, ‘I would be, indeed.’ You paused. ‘And I will. Perks of being the daughter of the clan leaders.’

‘Your parents are Tsahik and Olo’eyktan?’ Kiri gasped. ‘Why didn’t you say it before?!’

‘I like being secretive.’ You smiled. ‘Revealing too much information at once isn’t a good idea, trust me.’

‘You can be our Tsahik if you want to.’ Tuk added.

‘Tuk! You can’t say things like that!’ Kiri scolded her sister.

‘Why not?’

‘Well, for once, she may already have someone betrothed to her.’ Kiri explained and turned her attention to you. ‘Do you have someone promised to you?’

You shook your head, ‘No.’

You wanted to add more, but you bit your tongue. Your parents have shown you a few young men to marry, but none of them felt right. You had to feel it inside and you couldn’t choose just because they expected that, it was your decision after all. And it’s not like you didn’t try, you hung out with some of them, talked with them, laughed with them, and yet none of them matched your energy in a way you longed for.

‘See? She can be our Tsahik.’ The little girl muttered and Kiri just rolled her eyes.

‘I’m sorry for my sister.’

‘It’s okay.’ You giggled. ‘Don’t be sorry for her, be grateful that she’s here to make your day more interesting.’

She smiled at you, ‘She sure is.’

‘All done! Do you like it?’ Tuk asked and showed you a few braids she had done.

‘They are perfect! Thank you ‘evi.***’ You gave her a quick hug to show your gratitude.

‘Kiri can you show me where you clean yourselves? I think I need to wash away the dirt.’ You turned to the older sister.

‘Oh my, of course! I’m sorry I should have asked you if you needed anything! Can I offer you some new clothes?’

‘If you’d be so kind.’ You smiled.

The three of you got up and you followed them hastily. On your way out you locked eyes with Neteyam who was still talking to Nelao, he shot you a quick smirk which made you look down and break the eye contact.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

After changing and cleaning yourself up you sat down on the edge of the cave. You were taking in the view unfolding in front of your eyes.

‘Where are you mom?’ You whispered and felt someone approach you from behind.

‘We have not had a chance to meet. My name is Neytiri, I am Neteyam’s mother.’ The beautiful woman spoke up.

‘(y/n).’ You smiled and bowed your head to greet her.

‘Can I join you?’ You nodded in approval.

She sat down next to you, ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, it’s extraordinary. I love looking at Pandora from above.’ You replied.

‘You have your own ikran?’

‘Yes, but I don’t know where she is. I was hoping to go search for her in the morning with Neteyam if that’s possible?’ You asked and quickly looked down. ‘Or any warrior for that matter, it doesn’t have to be him.’

Neytiri smiled sweetly, ‘I’m sure he would love to help you.’

You shyly raised your head and while looking into her eyes reciprocated the smile. For a moment both of you were sitting there quietly, enjoying the darkness with some glowing plants in the distance. Your ears perked up when you remembered a strange word Neteyam had said to you before.

‘What’s an avatar?’ You asked your companion out of the blue.

She looked at you confused, ‘You don’t know?’

‘No, I am not familiar with that word.’ You answered. ‘Neteyam asked me if I was one and I didn’t know what it meant.’

Neytiri roughly explained to you the concept of the word, she also used the term dream walkers. You also found out that her husband was an avatar before, which surprised you, it’s weird you haven’t noticed his additional fingers.

‘Your husband has a strong spirit, strong heart. I could feel it.’

‘He does.’ She whispered. ‘It’s late, we should head inside.’

You nodded and stood up to follow the woman inside their family home.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

When you woke up there was nobody in the tent with you. While you were stretching a big yawn escaped your lips. There was some water left next to you in a small pot, you picked it up and took a few big sips. You wiped your mouth and stood up to go outside and search for any of the familiar faces. You approached Neteyam who was giving some food to his ikran.

‘Hi.’

‘Hi, did you sleep well?’ He looked at you.

‘Um, yeah, it was a good night.’ You mumbled. ‘Are you going to help me today? With finding my ikran and my people?’

‘Oh! Yes, right, I have this thing here for you.’ He pulled out some sort of device. ‘This goes around your neck and this into your ear. Those are comms we use for communicating. ‘He pointed to the one he was wearing. ‘I’ll show you how they work.’

He installed everything on you and explained step by step to you how to use it. The whole time you tried to stay composed and steady, but his fingers brushing your skin were not helping. After that you both got on his ikran, the first place you wanted to check was the one you woke up at and that’s where you navigated him. You were using your memory and it was hard doing it from above since you were inside the forest while looking for a way out. Neteyam was patient with you, he landed a few times in the wrong places because you thought each could be the right one, thankfully one of them was. You got off the ikran and immediately noticed your blood on the grass. It was faint but because of daylight you could see the trail you were running through that night. You followed the blood with Neteyam by your side.

‘Mom! Dad!’ You shouted into the forest but received no response.

Suddenly a faint ikran roar erupted through the trees. Your ears perked up and you quickly ran towards the sound while making noises to lure in the animal.

‘Wait for me!’ You heard the man shout behind you, but you didn’t stop.

Soon you noticed something blue moving between two trees and you slowly approached it.

‘Ra’ia.’ You whispered and came closer to your ikran.

You noticed she was covered with a net and that was the thing disallowing her to move. You spotted your knife next to her and grabbed it to free the animal. Now everything made sense, they must’ve shot that net at you which caused both of you to fall down, you somehow freed yourself and dropped your knife while running away.

‘I’m sorry I left you Ra’ia.’ You whispered while you were hugging her neck and stroking her skin with one of your hands. ‘Thank you Great Mother for keeping her safe.’

‘Is that your ikran?’ You heard Neteyam’s voice.

‘Yes.’ You nodded. ‘Her name is Ra’ia.’

‘It’s suits her.’

‘Thanks.’ You chuckled. ‘We should check my village now.’

He gave you a nod and started calling for his own animal.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

The place was a mess. Your started to feel heavy when you noticed limp bodies of your people laying on the ground. You took a deep breath and wiped away the tears already falling down from your eyes. With each person you examined you felt your heart break even more. However it broke down completely when you noticed your father’s  broken bow, his hand wrapped around the weapon. You swallowed a big lump and took cautious steps towards him.

This can’t be real. He’s okay, he has to be okay.

‘Dad?’ You whispered when you finally reached his side you moved his body, he didn’t move. ‘Dad, come on.’ You cried. ‘Wake up! You can’t do this to me!’ You shouted and started shaking his body.

A pair of arms wrapped around you and started pulling you away.

‘No!’ You shouted. ‘NO!’

Neteyam embraced you in a hug which you were trying to break out of, ‘Let me go! He’s okay! We have to get him help!’

‘I’m sorry, (y/n).’He whispered and held you tighter. ‘There is nothing we can do for him, we need to go.’

You were crying your eyes out, your screams were stopping in your throat along with the tears you were choking on. You don’t know how long Neteyam was trying to calm you down, it could’ve been 20 minutes or 3 hours, you had no idea. His palm was stroking your hair and his chest was wet from your tears, but it was working, he finally managed to help you steady your breath and stop crying.

‘Can you help me bury him?’ You looked up at him with glossy eyes. ‘Please, Neteyam.’

‘Of course.’ He replied and kissed the top of your head gently.

There was a sacred place, a small tree close to your village where you would bury the dead. Neteyam helped you carry your father’s body there, you whispered a quick prayer to him and to Eywa. You connected your queue to the sacred tree and experienced a vision. Instead of seeing your father you saw your mother in some kind of metal home, perhaps a capsule? It was strange and covered in various plants. You gasped and collapsed right into Neteyam’s arms. You looked at him and explained where you think your mother may be.

He widened his eyes, ‘I think I know where that is.’

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

‘Mom?’ You called out. ‘Mom are you there!?’

You moved closer to the entrance of the shack and looked through the broken window. Your mother was nowhere in sight.

‘She’s not inside, do you know if there is anywhere she could-‘

‘(y/n)?’ You heard your mother’s voice coming from the bushes.

You moved closer to the sound, ‘Mom? Yes, yes mom, it’s me.’

Her fragile silhouette emerged from the plants and she instantly collapsed into your arms, crying.

‘Your father..‘ She cried. ‘He..’

‘I know, ma, I know…’ You started caressing her tangled hair. ‘It’s going to be okay, ma.’

‘You need to find someone to lead the clan, you need to find a mate, daughter. We have to find the others as soon as we can, it is the only way.’ She explained and looked up to rest her sad eyes on Neteyam. ‘Who’s that?’

‘That’s my friend. We’re going to take you to a safe place.’ You explained. ‘The Omaticaya will take care of you, of us.’

‘No, no, we can’t. They are going to be hunting us. They know what we can do and they don’t like it.’ She stammered.

‘They are hunting my people too.’ Neteyam finally spoke up. ‘I can’t guarantee you will be safe in our hideout, but going there is the best thing I can offer you right now.’

‘We have to go, ma.’ You helped her stand up. ‘It’s okay, come on.’

The flight to the Omaticaya camp was peaceful, with no surprises from the enemy, but you felt your mother’s broken energy the whole time and it was draining you. You felt her pain, it was mixing with yours and creating a dreadful combination. There was also her unwillingness to go with you so she complained for most of the ride. When you finally arrived you were greeted by Mo’at, who immediately recognised your mother. She took her away from everyone and they both disappeared in her tent. You sighed and turned around to face Neteyam.

‘Thank you.’ You said. ‘For helping me. With finding my mother, Ra’ia and my..’ You paused, tears were starting to form in your eyes.

‘Hey, hey, you don’t have to thank me for this.’ He took your hand into his, caressing your knuckles softly with his fingers. ‘I’ll help you anytime you need me.’

You smiled up at him, ‘Do you-‘

‘Neteyam!’ A voice called out which made him drop your hand. ‘Is that this new friend of yours everyone is talking about? My name is Nelao.’

She grabbed Neteyam’s arm and hugged it to her body. The sight made your heart feel like a needle was going straight through it. You told her your name and complemented her own.

‘Thank you. Yours is quite unique as well.’ She looked up at Neteyam. ‘Shall we go? You must be hungry!’ She turned to you. ‘You’re welcome to join us, of course.’

You shook your head, ‘Maybe later, but thank you for invitation.’

You started walking away and looked at the man one more time, to your surprise you locked eyes with him once again. Then Nelao pulled him away as they headed to feast with the others. You approached Mo’at’s tent in hopes to find out how your mother was doing.

‘We have to find the rest. My daughter needs a mate, we need a new leader, Mo’at. I cannot believe all of this is happening.’ You heard your mother’s broken voice through the thin tent material. ‘I lost him, it hurts so much.’

‘I know what it feels like. I lost my husband because of these demons too. Your clan is welcome to stay with us when they are found.’ Mo’at spoke up. ‘Accept our help, Leta.’

‘It’s not nice to eavesdrop, you know?’ Neteyam’s voice startled you.

‘And why are you not participating in the feast?’ You tilted your head to the side.

‘I just..’ He paused. ‘Can we talk?’

You nodded, ‘Why didn’t you tell me you are the next Tsahik?’

‘What?’ You asked confused. ‘How-‘

‘I overheard your mother saying it to you before, she wasn’t particularly quiet so it’s not my fault.’

‘Right.’ You gave him a nod and smirked. ‘Do you want to go for a ride?’

‘If I do, will you answer my question?’ He tilted his head.

You shrugged, ‘Come and find out.’

You giggled and started running away to get on your ikran. Neteyam shook his head and followed your steps.

‘Where are we even going?’

‘You’ll see.’ You replied and took off, the man right behind you.

Throughout the flight you were constantly messing with him, whether that would be shoving him from the side or disappearing behind a mountain to scare him. He was pretending to be mad, but you knew he liked it. When you saw your destination you increased your speed. He tried chasing you trying to outrun your ikran, but to no avail.

‘It’s even more beautiful at night.’ You whispered when you landed.

‘It is.’ He replied, but he wasn’t looking at The Spirit Tree.

He was looking at something else or rather someone.

‘Come on, let’s go sit under it.’ You grabbed his hand and ran towards the tree.

For a moment you were just enjoying each other’s presence and looking around at the bioluminescent grass, leaves and vines. Well, you were the one looking around when his gaze was mostly lingering on your form.

‘So?’ He broke the silence which made you sigh.

‘I didn’t want to be defined by that. You out of all people should know the burden this role carries.’ You paused. ‘All the responsibilities, risks, duties… I just… I sometimes wish I wasn’t next in line.’ You looked at your hands. ‘Especially now when my mother urges me to find a mate immediately. Someone to step in for… You know.’

He nodded, ‘Yeah, I know what all of that feels like.’

‘But I can’t just take anyone and I think she doesn’t understand it. I have to feel it inside, it has to feel-‘

‘Right.’ He interrupted you.

‘Exactly!’ You exclaimed. ‘At least you already have someone to mate with.’ You whispered.

‘Huh?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Are you talking about Nelao?’

You nodded, ‘She seems really nice. You should be grateful your mom chose someone like that for you.’

‘She is nice, but at the end of the day it is not my mother’s decision.’ He responded. ‘It is mine.’

He raised his palm and rested it on your cheek.

‘And I don’t want Nelao.’

You felt heat going up to your cheeks and his face was slowly getting closer to yours. The kiss was slow and passionate, but most importantly – it felt right.

You were the first to break the kiss, ‘Are you sure about this?’

‘Are you?’ He asked.

You nodded your head eagerly, ‘You know, from the moment I saw you, your energy has called out to me.’

‘My energy?’ He chuckled.

You softly punched his arm, ‘Do not laugh at me! Last time I checked, I was the one seeing and feeling what you don’t.’

‘Oh, and that makes me worse than you?’ He tilted his head playfully.

‘Yes.’ You giggled and connected your lips with his eagerly.

After a while both of you pulled out your queues and observed how they connected with each other. The feeling was almost euphoric, something you have never felt before. You felt Neteyam’s energy, you saw it so vividly in your mind, all of his good and bad sides, everything about him was in front of you like an open book. All of it melted into your own body, your own energy mixed with his as you became one. There was no denying that all of this felt right.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

You woke up in the morning only because someone towered over you and their presence was enough to awaken you. You slowly opened your eyes and you felt Neteyam’s arm on your stomach, your back pressed to his chest. When your vision cleared up you looked up and saw your mother’s angry face.

‘Did you mate with this boy!?’ She screamed, which made Neteyam and you quickly sit up.

Jake was standing behind her and guided her to take a step back. Neytiri was also present, but she was behind the two, a small smirk spread out on her face.

‘Answer me, daughter.’

You stood up, your fingers intertwined with Neteyam’s, ‘Yes, mother.’

She scoffed, ‘You were supposed to find someone from our clan!’

‘It is my fault.’ Neteyam spoke up. ‘I was the one to-‘

‘No, it isn’t.’ You shook your head.’ It was all because of Eywa. We met before her and we mated before her.’ You told your mother. ‘From the moment I saw him I knew we were meant to be together, his energy called me, it lured me in and I could not resist. The feeling was stronger than anything else.’

Your mother shook her head, but deep down she knew exactly what you were talking about. She had felt the same thing when she first laid her eyes on your father. She looked up at Jake who just shrugged his arms.

‘There is nothing we can do about it.’ He told her. ‘It is done.’

‘There is nothing wrong with uniting our clans.’ Neytiri spoke up. ‘I must say, I think it’s necessary. Especially in those dark times.’

You smiled at her and she reciprocated the gesture. You turned to your mother with pleading eyes.

‘Please, ma.’

She was looking between the two of you quickly and her gaze finally rested on your mate.

‘Fine.’ She closed her eyes and sighed. ‘At least it’s done now. All we have to do is find the rest of the clan, but I must say, the boy I chose for you will not be very pleased about this.’

‘Ma!’ You scolded her.

‘The boy she chose for you?’ Neteyam asked.

‘She chose like 5 boys for me.’ You chuckled. ‘But they don’t matter anymore, do they?’

‘I guess they don’t.’ He smiled at you.

‘We should head back to the camp.’ Jake said. ‘And please, don’t sneak out in the night, I don’t want your siblings to follow your footsteps.’

‘Yes sir.’ Netayam nodded.

Everyone turned around and started walking towards their ikrans, you and Neteyam following after them.

‘I knew this would happen.’ You heard Neytiri whisper to her husband.

‘Who didn’t?’ He quietly replied.

You chuckled and turned your head to Neteyam. You gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

‘Want to race to the camp?’ You asked and started running to your animal before the man had a chance to process your question.

He shook his head and ran after you. He would always run after you.

© girasollake, 2023

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thank you!! xx

taglist:  @hockeyboysarehot​ @esposadomd​ @astr1dblogs​ @greengarsstuff @black-and-white1​ @softpia​ @writingsbybirdie​ @slythermania​ @mariiyoushi​ @rakwunz​ @hirokosoul​ @goldenchunkycat​ @margoniezniez​ @bluesprings18​ @decaffeinatedmom01​ @swords4mob​  @quietshyashlyn19​ ( if you liked/commented on my post about this fic and you are not here, please check your settings because i couldn’t tag you <3)

[shuahaes]

baking w/ the hip-hop unit!

svt hhu x reader; established relationship; all fluff, sfw

HHU | VCU | PFU

warning: only food mentions, otherwise its all just fluff + unhinged wonwoo in his part !! not proofread btw !!

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL (S.COUPS)

hes so excited to bake a cake w his baby 🥺

but this man gets so pouty so easily

he'd prob drop an egg and get pouty or accidentally spill flour on the counter

but he'd try his best to be helpful yk

trying to follow the recipe as best he can

and if u even SIGH out of slight annoyance while trying to mix the batter

he WILL be taking the beater from u and doing it for u

would also do his best to give u a massage afterwards

he says he'll take them out of the oven for u bc he doesnt want u to feel the heat from it so he does it (while wearing mitts ofc)

and then he gets pouty bc its too hot

even tho he wanted to do it 💀

definitely pouty if the cake was deformed

would def help u clean up the mess

CUDDLES AFTER 🥺

JEON WONWOO

i am a firm believer of unhinged wonwoo with his s/o

like yes he'd follow the recipe

but what if he's in a silly goofy mood

would probably say he's an expert baker because he played cooking mama every day for two weeks 💀

prob says "f**k the recipe, i'll bake like cooking mama"

but still follows the recipe bc of you

maybe heart shaped cookies (like that one picture)*

gives u a kiss after bc the cookies were so good

KIM MINGYU

this man is a klutz but also an amazing chef??

most definitely the best baker in hhu

but not without almost breaking your stand mixer

or getting batter all over the counter and some splattering on the walls 😔

cracked an egg but when he went to put the yolk in another bowl for the recipe, it exploded

dw though, your desserts turned out fine

he was pouty abt the stand mixer almost breaking (BUT ITS FINE)

but thats nothing cuddles cant solve, isn't it?

CHWE HANSOL (VERNON)

its vernon.

there is a very low chance that the dessert will end up edible

why?

because he will most definitely forget to read the recipe measurements and it might end up so sweet that it'll give you a cavity within the first bite

or it could end up as him putting too much salt instead of sugar

reason being, the poor boy couldnt tell the difference bc he missed the jars labels 😭

it may not end up edible

but its the thought that counts, right?

at least he helped his beautiful s/o 🤩

A/N - FINALY DID THE HHU VER!! omg posting this in the daytime instead of the dead of night? im so proud of myself 🤭 a huge thank u to @kwantaro mahi <3 for helping me come with a few of the hcs, so ty mahi !!

*this photo of wonwoo that i was talking about

[dollcherray]

Apologies for tumblr being hungry and eating requests </3 ! Just resending mine! I wanna ask for Yandere!Miss Sasha hc’s please ! but if I may specify, with a reader who’s a very shy and timid teacher

୨୧ SHAPE OF U ✮⋆˙

Yandere miss sasha x shy and timid reader

A/N: Miss sasha is such a cutie! same scenario: you are a teacher in this, Now all I need is Miss Circle to complete the list of characters I want to write about (def not a cry for someone to request about yandere Miss Circle).

TW:Yandere topics, gaslighting, delusion, does someone make shrines of you counts as a trigger? remember: Yanderes are not hot, they can be extremely dangerous always stay away from individuals like this.

Type: Angst/fluff, romantic, HCS

୨୧ right off the bat: Sasha finds you adorable!! she likes how u can get flustered so easily, thats one of the main characteristics she likes about you, so obviously she will comment how adorable you are in her eyes.

୨୧ she would NOT be happy if someone made fun of how you act, she wouldnt hurt that person, but would make their school life hell at least in her subject, no one will make fun of you, not in her watch.

୨୧ Of course, as a yandere, she uses your timid nature to her advantage, but not in a nitid way to not risk you actually catching up on her unhealthy obsession crush towards you, she would be embarrassed to bits if you found out that she has a silly crush on you.

୨୧ She draws you at any chance she gets, some she gives you as a gift, others she keeps to herself... she probably has a shrine of arts and doodles of you that she drew, she probably featured herself in 50% of these drawings.

୨୧ she would make poetic love letters who would always compliment you or your work as a teacher, you bet that the letters has lots of drawings of you in chibi version in the corners and lots of hearts drawed in it.

୨୧ She would definitely call you a "work of art" and that you could be easily sculptured in a statue, all that cheesy art things, also, she would probably use that van gogh pick lines like "i love you like van gogh loved the stars" (was it van gogh? idfk)

୨୧ Sasha is obsessive, manipulative, delusional, harmless (in a "kill someone" way) and a very smart type of yandere, she would probably one of the less dangerous yanderes to have in the school, if someone tried to take you away from her, she would only manipulate you to get away from the person by inventing lies about them or maybe setting up a false situation that proves her false point.

୨୧ I think Sasha would be delusional because she wouldnt see that what she is doing is unhealthy and possibly harmful for the darling's mental health, she genuinely thinks she is just experiencing love.

୨୧ Sasha would probably be very dumb founded if you finally letted go from your shy manner and tried to leave her, she thought she was doing everything right, what do you mean she was gaslighting you into staying away from everyone you met? she was only protecting you!

୨୧ Sasha would beg for you not to leave her, i mean, you made her feel more alive than art did! you were her everything! she wont know what to do if you leave her, she might lose her sparkle and she doesnt want that, so please, please stay with her.

୨୧ "Come on darling... your not going to actually leave me.. right?"

[h00nerz]

bodybag!

masterlist | 1k celebration

pairing: kang taehyun x gn!reader (slight park sunghoon x gn!reader)

genre: angst, fluff, college au, sort of academic rivals to lovers, tsundere!taehyun, jealous!taehyun

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none afaik, just taehyun being possessive

prompt(s): #33 — “i can’t pretend anymore.”, #34 — “you’re all i can think about”, #35 — “i am so very in love with you”, #36 — “it’s you. it’s always been you.” & #37 — “i cannot stand you, and yet, i cannot fathom being away from you.”

requested: “okok i wanna send in a request bcs this kind of drabble has been living in my brain and idk if anyone wrote smth like it before but anyway!! lines 33 through 37 would lowk be so good for a jealoustsundre!taehyun where he acts like he fr despises you, but he like overhears u talking abt going on a lil date he gets so upset and mad 🤭🤭 i lowk got this idea from that one video i dont remember where but taehyun held a drink and was talking to the camera and said like " got this for you but that doesnt mean i like you or anything" HES SO 🙏🙏” — anon

authors note: omg heyyy my first time writing for tyun i am so excited!! enemies 2 lovers again bc… yeah. anyways enjoy~~

SO FAR, YOUR JUNIOR YEAR OF UNIVERSITY was proving to be the worst year of your life. You were finally starting to take classes more specific to your major, which meant things were starting to become a lot more serious. You didn’t have time to work anymore, and even though you had spent the whole summer leading up to the start of the semester working two jobs to have enough money for tuition, you were still barely managing to scrape by. 

Worst of all, though, was Kang Taehyun. 

Kang Taehyun was the bane of your existence. You had first met as freshmen at your university, in the same philosophy course, and you had immediately despised him--or rather, he despised you, and your hatred was just reactionary. It didn’t really matter, though, all that mattered was that he was a menace that made your life ten times harder than it needed to be. 

After that semester, you thought you’d never have to see him again. But, of course, fate had different plans for you. It turned out, Taehyun was pursuing the same major as you, which put you in multiple of the same classes by the time your junior year rolled around. By that point, it had been nearly two years since your last encounter, so you’d hoped he’d grown just a little bit since then. But, of course, he hadn’t.

Kang Taehyun had a vendetta against you that he wasn’t quite ready to let go of. 

Your last class of the day had finally let out, which meant it was time for you to head to the library. The night before, you had stayed up late pulling an all-nighter, and you really were not looking forward to another afternoon filled with studying, but if you wanted to make this deadline, you had no choice. 

With a sigh, you stood up from your seat, and were overcome with dread when you recognized a head of pink hair approaching you. “Not today, Taehyun. I am not in the mood.” You grumbled as you stuffed your laptop into your backpack, purposefully making sure not to even glance in his direction. 

“Yeah, obviously. You have a late night or something? It looked like you could barely stay awake the whole lecture.” He laughed at you, and now you finally looked over at him with narrowed eyes. “Jesus! You look like you just stepped off the set of The Walking Dead!” He exclaimed. 

Horror overcame you, as you realized just how bad your dark circles probably looked. “Shut up! I don’t look that bad!” You snapped at him, zipping your backpack shut so aggressively the zipper nearly broke off. “Even if I did, though, this is the face of someone who’s about to get an A on our midterm paper. So, ha.” 

Taehyun rolled his eyes, trailing after you as you exited the lecture hall. “Please. When I got Kai to review my paper, he said it, and I quote, ‘brought tears to his eyes’. It was that good. And I don’t look half as shitty as you do.” 

He was right. He didn’t look shitty at all. In fact, that was the most infuriating thing about Kang Taehyun. Even though he had shown time and time again that he had an ugly personality, his physical appearance was the opposite. Everything about Taehyun was perfect. His recently dyed hair, that was so fluffy atop his head it was reminiscent of cotton candy. His dark brown eyes that were simultaneously adorable as well as mysterious and inviting. You knew he worked out, he talked about it all the time, and it really showed. You hated him for being such a repulsive human inside of such an attractive body that must have been crafted by the gods themselves. 

“Probably because staring at his laptop screen and trying to decipher whatever bullshit you were spewing dried out his eyes.” You suggested. As you walked, you felt a yawn bubbling in the back of your throat, and as hard as you tried to suppress it, you were unsuccessful. 

“How late did you stay up last night? Really?” Taehyun asked, raising an eyebrow at you. For a brief second, you thought you saw a flash of something different, a flash of something human in his pretty brown eyes… But, you shook your head, positive that you had been imagining it, and sure enough, it disappeared.

“That’s none of your business.” You were quick to snap, quickening your pace in hopes of getting away from him. Instead, though, you ran straight into someone else, and knocked a couple of textbooks they were carrying onto the ground. 

“Oh no! I’m so sorry!” You immediately started apologizing, bending your knees so you could start to pick up the books. When you glanced forward, you felt your cheeks redden as you realized you had bumped into the Park Sunghoon, and the Park Sunghoon was looking at you with wide eyes. 

Park Sunghoon was, like, the star of your campus. He was the captain of the school’s extremely famous ice hockey team, which made him basically a celebrity on your campus. That combined with the fact that he had a face only someone blessed by Aphrodite herself could wield. So, for that perfect face to be just inches from your own right now has your stomach doing somersaults. 

“Oh. Hi, Y/N.” Sunghoon greeted you, and as the two of you finally stood, you blinked at him. 

“You—how—my name?” You stuttered out, staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. 

He furrowed his eyebrows together. “We had a class together last year, remember? You always sat in the row in front of me.” 

You slowly nodded. “Oh. Yeah. I’m surprised you remember that.” 

“How could I forget? You know, I always thought you were really pretty, Y/N.” He smiled at you, revealing his fang-like teeth, and you swore your heart stopped. 

There was loud coughing behind you, and when you glanced over your shoulder you were surprised to see Taehyun was still standing there. He was watching your interaction with Sunghoon with narrowed eyes, like he was contemplating murdering the ice hockey captain. You wondered if they had some kind of rivalry with one another, or maybe he was just irritated by him for the same reason he was irritated by you: just because.

You jerked your head to the side, trying to gesture for him to get out of there, but he stood in his place and looked as though he had no intentions of leaving. 

Deciding to ignore him, you looked back to Sunghoon, and flashed him a shy smile. “Really? You do?” You asked, batting your eyelashes at him. 

He nodded. “Yeah, really. Um, I’ve gotta go, but if you wanna get coffee sometime…” His voice trailed off, as he pulled a marker out of his backpack. You thought your heart was going to literally beat out of your chest when he uncapped the marker and started writing on your wrist. “There’s my number.” He grinned at you, and you watched in awe as he backed up and walked away. 

Once he was out of earshot, you turned around to face Taehyun, a big smirk befalling your lips. “I guess Park Sunghoon is into The Walking Dead!” You announced triumphantly, like you had just beat him in a game of sorts. 

He didn’t react, though, still wearing the same, ticked off expression from earlier. 

“What? What’s your problem?” You furrowed your eyebrows, and suddenly he snatched up the same wrist Sunghoon had just written on. “Hey! What the hell?”

“I need to talk to you.” He said in a low voice. 

“Then let go of me and let’s talk!” You hissed, trying to break free of his grip, but he wouldn’t let go.

He shook his head. “Not here. Follow me.” Unfortunately, he didn’t give you much of a choice, as he started dragging you through the great big hallway of bustling students. Eventually, he found an empty classroom and pulled you inside, shutting the door behind the both of you.

Finally, he let go of you, and you immediately stepped away from him, reaching up to rub your sore wrist. “What the hell was that, Taehyun?!” You demanded, practically spitting in his face. 

“I told you. I need to talk to you.” He repeated himself.

You rolled your eyes. “So then talk! I have places to be, I don’t have time for this!”

“Oh, like coffee with Park Sunghoon?” He spat, his voice laced with venom. 

“Maybe! Doesn’t matter, because who I hang out with is none of your business!” You jabbed a finger, and he once again caught hold of your wrist, holding you in place. 

“Listen to me, Y/N. I’m only going to say this once.” He warned you, and although you wanted so badly to fight him and get out of that stupid classroom, you were also desperate to hear what he had to say. He let out what sounded like a sigh of defeat, and he hung his head loose in front of you. He mumbled something unintelligible, and you raised an eyebrow. 

“What did you say?”

“I said I can’t pretend anymore!” He exclaimed, and the sudden outburst caught you off guard as you took a step back. 

“What do you mean…?” You asked quietly, but there was a small part of you who knew the answer to your own question already. 

He let go of your wrist, reaching up to run a hand through his strawberry colored hair. “You know, Y/N… I can’t stand you. And yet…”

“Yet…?”

“I can’t… I can’t fathom being away from you.” His pretty brown eyes finally gazed up to meet your own, and you realized his face had become almost as pink as his hair. Your own cheeks started to heat up at the sudden confession. “Ever since our first class together, you’re all I can think about. Y/N…”

He took a step closer, and you didn’t know why you didn’t back away. Instead you stood still, allowing him to gently take your hands into his own. “As much as it pains me to admit it… I am so very in love with you.” 

You blinked at him. “Y-You are?” You whispered, and he nodded. Kang Taehyun, the pretty boy who had been tormenting you in your classes, who you swore you hated, was in love with you?! It sounded made up. And yet… It made a lot of things start to make sense. 

“Which is why you can’t go out with some idiot like Park Sunghoon.” He pressed.

You frowned. “He’s not an idiot!” You snapped at him, finally gaining the sense to pull your hands from his. “And--And you can’t just spring this confession onto me! You’re probably just trying to distract me because midterms are happening, and--and you want to be the top of the class!”

He rolled his eyes. “No, Y/N, I don’t--”

“Yeah! And you’re just going to--to pretend you love me, and then get me to realize my own feelings, and then right when I start to fall for you, you’ll rip my heart out of my chest, and--” 

Before you could finish your ramblings, Taehyun was cupping your face and connecting his lips to your own. You let out a soft gasp in surprise, frozen for a moment, because Kang freaking Taehyun was kissing you. This was absolutely not what was supposed to happen! But… Something about it felt so right. It was like your body had a mind of its own as you relaxed under his touch, kissing him back with as much passion as he had offered you. 

He pushed you forward until you stumbled back onto one of the desks set up in the classroom, and you gasped again when his hands slid under your thighs to lift you up onto it. Your fingers laced themselves in his pink hair, which was surprisingly soft for having been recently dyed. He was kissing you hungrily, like you were his first meal in days, and he couldn’t get enough of you. 

He was kissing you like he was in love with you. 

After what felt like an eternity, he was forced to pull away from the kiss to catch his breath, and you found yourself chasing after his lips. He smiled down at you, and you felt his fingers brush against your cheek as he gently tucked a loose strand of your hair away. 

“I’m not lying to you, Y/N. This isn’t some cruel trick to make you fail. It’s you. It’s always been  you.” 

You smiled. “You really mean it?” He nodded. “Hmm… I’m not sure I believe you… I think I’m going to give Sunghoon a call…” You lifted your wrist to look at the numbers, unsurprised to see the ink had smeared after Taehyun dragged you into the room.

The color drained from his face. “What? Are you serious? I confess my love, and--and you’re going to call Sunghoon?!” He stared at you in disbelief. 

You tried your best to keep a poker face, but were unable to fight back the laughter for very long. “I’m joking, idiot! Holy shit, you should have seen your face!” You began to cackle loudly, but Taehyun was quick to shut you up with another kiss. 

Maybe the rest of the year wouldn’t be so bad after all.

permanent tag list: @jakeshands @therealhyunjingf @exohclipse @ttyunz @naveries @mazeinthemoon @luvsoobs @n0-thisispatrick @arizzu @dewyboi @yeonboy

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

reader comforting sad ethan?? like could be something his dad was suggesting/saying and ethans really frustrated. had prob been avoiding girlfriend! reader for a bit bc of the whole plan thing. hes prob reconsidering it all bc its been the happiest hes been in his LIFE and he feels like a shitty bf for the shit abt to happen. but he obviously cant talk abt it so he tries to shut her out, which doesnt work clearly. its up to you if you wanna include smut (tbh dont see dom! ethan existing here) but definitely just angst to fluff! this boy needs a hug ):

Okay, hi! I was about to go to bed when I got this request, and just HAD to write it. No smut, I thought it was better without it. I hope you like it:)

Everything We Need - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend is feeling guilty about being Ghostface, and wants to do whatever he can to protect you.

A/N: I LOVE THIS. There's just something about sad Ethan that makes me love him even more🥹

When Ethan met up with Quinn and his dad, he felt sick to his stomach. The plan that had been in the works for a year was coming to fruition, as two wannabe Ghostface’s had met their demise. He really wanted to back out. For the first time in his life, he had someone in his life that made him want to get up every day, and that’s been weighing heavy on his mind.

“Ethan, are you listening?” Wayne asked, Quinn rolling her eyes.

“He’s probably thinking about his girlfriend,” she scoffed, as Wayne’s face got even more serious.

“You need to keep your head in this. Don’t you let some little bitch keep you from doing what we’re all here to do,” he said, scanning his sons face. “Richie would never let me down.”

His dad always used that against Ethan. Richie and his dad were so close, while Ethan didn’t get the whole father-son bonding experience he craved. That’s why he agreed to go along with this plan in the first place. He wanted his fathers love so badly that he was willing to kill for it.

“I know, dad. I won’t let you down,” he said, as Wayne started to discuss the plan further.

“Wait, does Ethan’s little girlfriend have to die, too?” Quinn asked, as a lump formed in Ethan’s throat.

“Shut the fuck up, Quinn!” Ethan yelled, as his dad stood there, thinking about the best way to respond.

“She might. I don’t know yet. You might want to distance yourself from her. If she finds out, she will have to die,” Wayne said, as Ethan’s eyes started to water. A single tear slipped down his cheek, quickly wiping it away with his hand.

“Ethan, I don’t think I can count on you for this. Your head is obviously somewhere else, as usual,” he said, shaking his head. “Why can’t you be strong like Richie was?”

The rest of their meeting consisted of Ethan getting berated by Quinn and his father. He knew he needed to keep you safe, so he decided that maybe he should put a little distance between the two of you. He felt like shit that your friends were on the literal chopping block, and he knew how badly this would hurt you if you ever found out he was a part of it.

He ignored every text you’d sent him for the last few days. He declined every FaceTime. You were really starting to worry about him. Aside from the worrying, your heart hurt, because you’d just taken his virginity before he stopped talking to you. You couldn’t help but wonder if that had anything to do with why he pretty much ghosted you.

As you were on your way to Sam and Tara’s, you sent Ethan another text asking if he was going to be there. You hoped for a reply, but you never got one.

You sat around the living room with Anika, Mindy, Tara, and Quinn when Chad walked in. You waited for Ethan to walk in, but he never did.

“Hey, what’s up, guys?” Chad said, taking a seat next to Tara.

“Where’s Ethan?” Tara asked, knowing you wanted the answer.

“Oh, he was going to come, but he decided last minute to stay at the dorm,” Chad said, before looking over to you, “He didn’t tell you he wasn’t coming?”

“No,” you whispered, as Quinn rolled her eyes. She couldn’t stand you and hoped that Ethan wouldn’t have taken their dad’s advice. She wanted nothing more than to make you one of her victims.

“That’s really weird,” Mindy said, a confused look on her face. “Maybe you should go check on him.”

“He ignores me every time I try to contact him,” you said, “I don’t think he wants to see me.”

“That’s definitely weird because he won’t shut up about how much he misses you.”

You were so confused, but you tried to ignore the urge to go see him. Maybe he was just going through something and needed space, but you still thought it was strange that he didn’t tell you what was going on with him.

As everyone got ready to leave, you pulled Chad to the side.

“Is Ethan okay?” you asked, as Chad shook his head.

“He’s always talking about you, but he isn’t sleeping. He’s barely eating. I don’t know what’s going on with him,” he responded, a little bummed that his friend wasn’t doing well.

“I think I’m going to go see him,” you sighed, pulling your jacket on.

“I’ll be there soon, I want to hang out with Tara for a little bit,” he said.

You nodded as you grabbed your phone and started the walk to his dorm. When you got there, you knocked on the door, hoping that he was home.

Your mouth dropped when you saw his face as he opened the door. His eyes were sunken in, he was very pale. He looked like a shell of his former self.

“Baby, what’s going on?” you asked as he gestured you in.

He sat down on his bed beside you but didn’t want to speak. He didn’t want to put you in danger.

“Please talk to me,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes.

Hot, fat tears started to flow down his cheeks. You pulled him close to you as he sobbed into your chest.

“I don’t know why you want to be with me. I’m worthless,” he cried, your heart shattering at his words.

“Baby, why do you think that? You aren’t worthless,” you said, a few tears slipping past your bottom lashes.

“I’m nothing. I’m weak. I don’t deserve you,” he was choking out his words between sobs as your fingers ran through his hair.

“Ethan, I love you. I love you with all my heart. I don’t want you to talk about yourself like that. You’re perfect the way you are,” you whispered to him as you kissed his forehead.

“No, I’m not. My dad always compares me to my brother. He’s always been the golden child while I’ve been the black sheep of the family,” he said, your nails gently dragging across his scalp as you tried to soothe him. He’s never mentioned his family, and it really pissed you off that anyone could make this sweet boy feel this way.

“You’re always golden to me, baby. You mean so much to me, and it breaks my heart that you feel this way.”

In that moment, everything clicked in Ethan’s head. He knew he didn’t need his dad because he has you. Someone that loves him unconditionally.

“What if we just leave?” he asked, sitting up to look at you.

“Why do you want to leave?” you asked, taking his hand in yours.

“It isn’t safe here. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said, his eyes pleading with yours.

You started to think about it. All classes have been cancelled for the last week. Most of the students have already returned home because of what happened to the guys from the Film Studies class.

“Where do you want to go?” you asked, smiling at him.

“I don’t care. I want to get as far away as possible,” he said, standing up. “I’ll grab what I’ll need, and we’ll go to your dorm next.”

You helped him grab the necessities, noticing things you knew he’d need that he didn’t seem to care about in his current state. He grabbed stacks of clothes, piling them in his suitcase.

“Can you sit on this for me so I can zip it?” he asked, as you giggled. You did what he asked as he sighed in relief, ready to get your stuff so you could get the fuck out of the state.

You walked out of the dorm and went around the back of it.

“Wait here,” Ethan said, running over to the dumpster. He pulled the robe, mask, and knife out of his backpack, throwing it away.

He was smiling when he came back over to you, looking like the normal Ethan you fell in love with. He picked you up and spun you around, before kissing you.

“I love you,” he said, as he sat you back down and his forehead rested against yours.

“I love you, too.”

Once you arrived at your dorm, you grabbed everything you needed in a matter of minutes. Ethan was deep in thought as he sat on your bed.

“You having second thoughts about this?” you joked, as he shook his head.

“No, there’s nothing more that I want than to get away from here with you,” he said, placing a kiss to your forehead. “Can we take your car?”

“I was kind of hoping that was the plan,” you laughed, as you double-checked the room to make sure you weren’t missing anything. “Let’s get out of here.”

Your hand was in his as you walked through the student parking lot to your car. Once you made it there, Ethan asked you to get in so he could put the luggage in the trunk. You thought about how Chad mentioned that Ethan hadn’t slept in days, so you decided that it’d be best if you drove.

He started to feel uneasy, so he felt around under the bumper of your car.

“That stupid bitch,” he muttered, pulling off the tracking device Quinn must’ve put on your car.

“Okay, we’re ready. I just need to run by the ATM before we leave,” he said, as you looked at him, confused.

“Uh, my dad has experience with finding people, and I don’t want him to see my card transactions wherever we end up going,” he explained, as you nodded.

You pulled up to the ATM as he handed you his card and told you the pin.

“How much?” you asked, entering the pin on the pad.

“Let’s get two thousand for now,” he said, as you turned to look at him.

“How much money do you have in here?” you asked, your eyes wide. It’s not everyday a college kid pulls two grand out of their bank account.

“I have a lot. When my mom died, she left a lot of money to me,” he said, as you rubbed your hand against his thigh.

“I didn’t know that babe. I’m sorry,” you said, withdrawing the money and handing it to him.

As the two of you crossed state lines, he finally stopped looking behind him. You felt a little nervous that he was so concerned, almost like he thought you were being followed. The further you drove, the more exhausted you started to get.

“We might need to stop soon,” you said, Ethan’s tired eyes looking you over.

“Okay, let’s take the next exit. We can get a hotel room for the night,” he said, as you nodded, a yawn slipping out.

Once you got to the room, he crawled onto the bed. You helped him take his shoes off before you snuggled up beside him.

“Thank you,” he said, as he laid his head on your chest.

“For what?” you asked, starting to relax in the bed.

“For loving me as much as you do.”