#time to put them all together in one post soon!

[ganxiously]

This is the part of the helicopter crash fic I started writing today. I don't know if I'm going to post it to ao3 but I did want to share it here. Now, this first update is angst so read at your own risk, but it will be a happy ending, I promise. This is Tommy's pov and I'll be back with Buck's side of things and the aftermath as soon as I have finished writing them —

The silence is stark in the aftermath and Tommy’s ears ring like they are still expecting the screech of the altitude alarms or the roar of metal crashing into rocks and trees. He’s not sure what happened, one moment he was flying his helo back to Harbour and the next, the altitude alarms started going off one by one. He had tried to fix it, tried to pull the bird up even as it became amply clear that nothing was working. They had dropped fast, swinging this side and that with the wind and then his tail had hit the cliffside, sending him and his medic rolling down the mountain in a 30-tonne metal can. He doesn’t know what happened to her, Amy, a new recruit with a penchant for keeping to herself. That’s why they worked together so well, a good thing until it led them here.

“Amy?”, he manages to ask, his voice coming out hoarse. “Medic Garcia?”

There is nothing. Not even the sound of feeble breaths. Tommy swallows the burgeoning feeling of grief and panic and tries to think of a way out. It’s dead of the night, the scenery outside the broken glass of his wind-screen pitch black, the flickering lights of the city not even visible from where he’s landed. He tries to move himself and then immediately freezes as the pain threatens to take away his consciousness. 

This is bad, he thinks. I don’t know how to get out of this one.

He is still strapped into his harness and beneath that, his flight suit is soaked with blood. It feels tacky and slippery against his skin, enough of it that he knows wherever it’s coming from, it’s not good news. It’s not survivable. His legs are pinned and he’s pretty sure the wet feeling around his eyes is blood. His ribs hurt and when he tries to move his hands, his shoulders refuse to bear the weight.

Oh, I am definitely not getting out of this one.

The realisation hits like G during a rapid climb and for the first time in long while, Tommy’s scared. He is terrified, as terrified as he hasn’t been since he was a wet-behind-his-ears boy seeing war for the first time. He thinks his hands would shake if he could move them that fast, his breath would stutter if it already wasn’t, wheezing past the damage, past the blood and tickling at his lips.  He doesn’t want to die like this, the thought occurs to him. He doesn’t want to die at all. He wants to turn back time and return to those scant months when he had been, for once, truly happy. He wants . . . he wants Evan. Beside him, holding his hand, his fingers tracing the lines on Tommy’s palm as he talks about anything and everything that comes to his mind.

Maybe that is the thing about impending death. Its finality, its loneliness puts things into perspective really fast. When he had all the time in the world, he had faltered, he had a thousand and one excuses ready as to why it was a bad idea. Now that Tommy’s out of time, there is not one that seems to hold up to reason. He wants Evan, he loves Evan and he should have told him that when he still had the chance. He should have spent every second he had left loving him.

He somehow manages to take his phone out of his pocket, surprised to see that it’s still mostly intact, except for the one thin crack down the middle. He thumbs it open and there he is, brushed golden in the sun and laughing at something Tommy had said. It’s a damn shame he can’t remember anymore what that something had been. There’s no cell service on his phone, which is bad but it also relieves him. He doesn’t have to make a 911 call, only to tell them they are already too late and like this, he won’t give in to the urge to hear Evan’s voice one last time.

He opens their message thread like he has done so many times these past couple of weeks, typing and deleting messages that never seem to be able to convey his complicated thoughts. He clicks on the typing bar, watches the keyboard pop up and then just keeps on staring, looking at the bloody fingerprint on his screen as he tries to think of what to write. What last words do you text your ex-boyfriend who you broke up with? That I’m sorry and I think I’m an even bigger asshole than you probably think I am?

The pain in his body notches up, so spread out that he barely knows where it originates from and he grits his teeth with an effort to keep himself from screaming. Eventually, it passes and Tommy takes the opportunity to click on the voice message button to the right.

“Buck.”

He hates that name on his tongue. 

“Evan.”, he starts and then stops again because it still doesn’t feel enough. It doesn’t feel like it encapsulates everything Tommy associates with that name — the warmth, the safety, the incredulous how is he real? and the helpless adoration that he just can’t seem to keep at bay no matter how much he tries. So, he gives it one more shot, “Evan. My Evan. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about a million things.”

A cough stops him, the movement jostling him enough that pain rips through him anew and he is left gasping and sobbing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay away. I’m sorry I didn’t leave earlier and I’m sorry I left when I did . . . I’m sorry I hurt you.”

He swallows the blood in his mouth or at least, he tries to but all of it comes out with the next cough.

“I should have stuck around. I should have stayed and I should have loved you as long as you let me. I should . . . I should have told you I love you. Even—even if you don’t and that’s okay. You should— you shouldn’t love someone like me but that was no reason to not tell you I did. I just . . . I should have loved you as hard as I could while I still had the chance, Evan. You, at least, deserved that.”

He’s getting colder by the second and the part of his brain that still works, tells him that he is going into shock. Tommy’s running out of time and he’s running out of time fast.

“I don’t want to die.”, he manages to say through the sobs racking through his throat. He thinks he should feel pain but there isn’t anything beyond numbness anymore, “I don’t want to die and I don’t want to go through death alone. I want you . . .”

No, but that’s not right, is it? He doesn’t want Evan in this mess. Evan doesn’t deserve to get hurt again just to accompany Tommy in his last moments. He should be far away, happy, healthy and at peace. Maybe it is better that they broke up. If this was always supposed to be the end, it is surely better that Evan no doubt hates Tommy a little bit now. Maybe, if he’s lucky, Evan will leave a flower on his grave one day.

“I really wanted to be your last, you know?”, he finally says after a minute of silence, the words spilling out almost conversationally, long after he thought he’s run out of things to say. “But more than that, I wanted you to be my last and I’m happy that I got it, even if it’s not in the way I wanted it to be.”

And it's so fucking typical of him, isn’t it? He is being so selfish right now, ruining Evan’s life like this just so he can get some things off his chest. And he knows Evan, he knows what this message will do to him. Evan will go through life with the burden of Tommy’s regret on his shoulders and he hates how tempting that thought is, that if not in his heart, Tommy’s existence will at least have a place in the scars he carries for the rest of his life.

Here lies Tommy Kinard. He’s the bastard that broke my heart once upon a time.

But no, he can’t do that to Evan. He’s been selfish when he kissed Evan the first time, when they decided to give it a second try and when he hurt Evan to protect himself. He’s been selfish every moment that he managed to steal in between.

“Nevermind.”, he breathes out, smiling through the blood that’s threatening to choke him. “Nevermind, Evan. You— you don’t need to know all that. You should forget me. Forget there was ever a Tommy Kinard who loved you. Live a happy life and maybe . . . maybe in our next one, I’ll get to keep you. I’ll delete this now. I would have deleted myself out of your life too if I could’ve but this will have to do. I’m really outta time here, kid.”

He tries to blink away the blind spots around the edges of his vision but he’s fading fast. He fights against the unmoored feeling that is taking over, tries to swipe his screen in hopes of deleting the message but his hands are too slick and too weak to do anything anymore. The phone slips from his grasp and falls with a thunk somewhere near his feet, not that it matters. Not when he can barely remember what he was doing with the phone in the first place. Something to do with Evan. Maybe.

He huffs at his uselessness.

“Evan.”, his lips shape the word with care even though his voice doesn’t quite manage to colour it fully but it’s enough. It’s enough to have that be the last thing he speaks, to be the last thing he thinks about. The name washes away the cold like dawning sunrise on a crisp winter morning and Tommy is at peace, he is content.

“Tommy?”

That’s Evan’s voice. He has to go. He has to answer. He has to—

[landomeowrris]

under his teeth.

norstappen angst 💘

a quick quick norstappen drabble based on this post, as a request from my friend!

Lando shouldn't have felt so relieved when Max crossed the finish line ahead of him for the millionth time — Lando wasn't about to count all of them, but he assumed it was a lot — but he felt it anyway. It’s over, it's over, it's over it's over it's over it's over. Those were the only words on Lando’s brain.

Not just the championship fight, no. He was disappointed to be out of it, but relieved that there wouldn't be more pressure than he already put on himself throughout the whole season. He was relieved because it meant Max, and it meant mending whatever little rift had formed between them ever since Zandvoort and that got way more intense in Austin.

He had told himself over and over and over again over the past month or so that he wouldn't, couldn't go back to Max. That he wouldn't be friendly, wouldn't be there. Was it reassurance, or was Lando just trying to convince himself that he felt absolutely nothing for Max? That he wouldn't crawl back to Max like he did?

It was the latter. Because when Lando saw Max in the media pen, he took an immediate detour, walking up to Max and congratulating him himself. Lando pretended that his heart wasn't fluttering wildly when Max handled him like he was a kitten, pulling him close by the scruff of the neck.

But Max’s words echoed in his brain the whole way back to the hotel. He had gotten a ride with his teammate to the hotel, and he was used to Oscar's absolute silence most of the time around him. They weren't the best of friends, and Lando didn't mind the quietness at all.

Lando had simply said “Next year I’ll get you,” and it was mostly a joke, because Lando knew (and believed) that Max was absolutely incredible. But Max’s response was what took him off guard. “I told you. Many times. There will be a day you’ll be world champion.”

Those words were so simple, and yet they struck a chord within Lando’s brain. What did Max mean by that? Lando knew Max believed in him, but he always thought it was some kind of… power trip? PR move? But even if this was said in front of cameras, it was meant for only Lando to hear. And that warmed his heart in ways he couldn't even imagine.

After showering at the hotel, Lando plopped down on the bed and opened his Instagram, hovering over the post button for a moment before decidingly pulling together a quick one congratulating Max and throwing his phone away to the other side of the bed.

He knew what this was, of course. He knew it like the back of his hand, the feeling of falling and slipping down a slope that led to Max Verstappen. He stared at the beige ceiling, the bright Strip lights shining through the window, the curtains still open.

Lando knew he shouldn't, knew he had to cut it off before it would go too far again. He had set his foot down, decided not to do anything related to Max, decided to cut him off when he started getting too rough on the race.

But why was his heart this heavy? Why was he feeling the deep, deep urge to march over to Max’s room and spill his little heart out when he promised himself he wouldn't? He promised himself he wouldn't go back to staying under Max’s claws, because the last time he had allowed himself to do so he got thrown off the track twice in the same race.

But his feet seemed to move to their own accord, and soon he found himself standing in front of Max’s hotel room, biting down on his bottom lip so hard he could taste blood. He barely tapped his fist against the door and it was opening, a disgruntled Max standing cross armed in front of him.

“I was wondering how long you'd take to stop being a scaredy cat,” Max murmured, pulling Lando’s arm and leading the Brit inside the room, hands all over his body. Damn it, this wasn't supposed to happen this way.

“I’m not scared,” Lando replied, keeping his arms firm against the sides of his body, even as Max started to lean in closer. “I have morals, Max. And you've been nothing but an asshole to me ever since Austin. You know damn well I was ahead at the apex and that you purposely pushed me off.”

“I did,” Max admitted, pushing Lando back until his knees were hitting the edge of the bed and he was being pushed down into the mattress, a heavy weight settling on top of him. Max was warm, much like the orange that represented his country, much like the cars they raced. “And you did nothing about it. You thought you'd slip away from me, didn't ya?”

“Max, don't,” Lando protested weakly, but all thoughts left his brain when Max rolled them over and tucked Lando into his chest, a warm arm around his shoulders. “I’m not your goddamn puppy, Max. You can't keep expecting me to come back.”

“But you always do,” Max countered, pressing a kiss to Lando’s forehead, and then another to the top of his head. “You whine and you complain, but you're always here. You trust me enough to know I won't do any long lasting damage, so you're always here.”

“I hate you,” Lando whispered, and it was the truth. He hated Max with all his being, wanted to be like him, wanting to be with him, wanting to be freed from the grip this man had on him. But he couldn't. He never had the strength to do so. “I hate you so much. You can't keep treating me like this. This is the last time I’m here, Max. And then you go off to have your merry life with your girlfriend and her kid.”

Max just chuckled, and Lando felt the other man's chest rumble beneath him. Lando gripped the edge of Max’s shirt so hard the material ripped a bit, but his traitorous body relaxed in the Dutchman’s presence, lulling him to sleep. But even then, as he fell deep into the world of dreams, he promised himself he wouldn't do this again, a few tears slipping past his eyes.

But for now, he’d put his trust in Max again, to trust he wouldn't do any harm to Lando. And, of course, that would always be a stupid thing to believe in. Max didn't give a fuck about Lando, but it was such a power trip that made Lando’s head spin.

But Lando was a sheep going straight to the wolf's mouth; a lamb choosing to be sacrificed; a cat that never strayed too far. He was willingly putting himself under Max's teeth again, trusting the man not to bite. Even though he would.

[letstrip13]

🔪 - mr and mrs ghostface

summary: a picture of LA's newest couple goes viral.. but no one knows who they are. who could they be?

warnings: just fluff! was written in a rush

word count: 865

author's note: sorry about this being posted almost a month after halloween, i hope it was worth the wait :) even though it's rushed and i hate the layout of it

author's note 2: read the last author's note at the end of the fic pleaseeee and go to the link on it too tysm!!

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october 31st was the day of the most highly anticipated influencer party of the entire year. it was very exclusive, only certain people could even get on the list. everyone knew about it and wanted to attend.

paparazzi were staged outside, awaiting the guests with bright camera flashes, capturing photos of them in their costumes. they continued to lurk outside throughout the party, desperate to catch any sign of anything worth releasing to the public.

they didn't find much, but they did see a mysterious couple leave the party for a few minutes before going back in. they released a photo of the two together and it immediately went viral.

“NEW IT COUPLE caught hanging around outside LA's most exclusive influencer party. Who could Mr. and Mrs. Ghostface be?”

------------------------୨୧-------------------------------

millions of likes and around twelve hours later, you wake up from a peaceful sleep in your boyfriend's arms. you had a good dream but you can't seem to remember it right now. you look up to check on matt and he's still fast asleep, messy brown hair scattered across his forehead, and lips slightly parted as soft snores escape them.

you roll over to check your phone which is charging on his nightstand. when doing so, you can see the matching ghostface masks on the floor by his closet. as soon as you look at your phone, you're overwhelmed by the amount of messages and missed calls from yours and matt’s friends.

you scroll through what seems like hundreds of them, trying to make sense of it all. you even peek over at matt's phone, seeing that it's the pretty much the same. finally, you see a message telling you to check LAnews on instagram.

you frantically open the app and type it into your search bar. your jaw drops when you check their most recent post. that “mystery couple” they posted about is you and matt. you shake his arm and he awakens with a startled grunt. “what is it?” he mumbles.

“look!” you put the screen in front of his face and he rubs his eyes trying to figure out exactly what he's looking at. “is that us..?” he asks. “yes!” he sits up, leaning back against the headboard as he stretches. “what are you freaking out about? they didn't say it was us.”

you sigh softly. “yeah, but,” you pause, “what if they find out?” he stays silent and puts his arm around you. “maybe it's about time they find out, baby. it's been almost a year.” your head leans onto his shoulder. “you're right.. but i don't want people to find out from them. it should come from us.”

“okay,” he murmurs as he stretches again, “i'm starving though, let's have breakfast first.” you nod in agreement. “how do pancakes sound?” he gets out of bed excitedly as if he wasn't woken up against his will two minutes ago.

you make your way into the kitchen, pulling the pancake mix out of the cupboard while matt gets a mixing bowl and a frying pan. you make the pancakes together, being careful to stay quiet so as not to wake up chris or nick.

you plate the pancakes, dividing them between you two and putting any toppings you want on them before sitting down and eating. you eat side by side in comfortable silence for a little while before he speaks up between bites, “so how do you think we should announce it?” he shovels another bite of pancake into his mouth as he awaits your response.

“i don't know.. maybe an instagram post? just some cute pictures of us and one from last night.” “yeah, i like that.” you fall silent which doesn't go unnoticed by him. “what are you thinking about?” “i'm just a little worried about what people are gonna say, you know.”

“don't worry about them. you love me right?” you nod at him. “and i love you. so that's it. that's all that matters and nothing will change that.” you realize that he's right. you love him too much to let anyone behind a screen interfere with that. “you're right,” you tell him, pausing to kiss him on the lips, “i love you.”

after finishing your breakfast and cleaning up the dishes, you sit down again and decide on the perfect pictures to use. it takes longer than you thought but you couldn't be happier with the way it turned out.

you hit share on the joint post before you both turn your phones off, awaiting the chaos of the media that will come about in the next few hours, or even days. it feels so nice and freeing to finally have everything out in the open, to have a real relationship and not have to hide anything.

you both catch yourselves glancing at your phones. “we should do something to distract ourselves,” you tell matt, “we can't just wait around like this.” a smirk crosses his lips and he picks you up unexpectedly. “i think i know what we could do,” he says as he runs off in the direction of his bedroom, leaving you giggling over his shoulder.

------------------------୨୧------------------------

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author's note 3: if you wanna see style posts and updates of madi, please give my friend pinkfilipowicz a follow! she wants to hit 100 followers by the end of the year and she's at around 30 rn i think. and follow her on tiktok too if you like madi edits!! <3

btw if that's not convincing enough, she found a shirt from a screenshot of madi's tiktok where you can't see it that well AND from a pic where you can barely see the shirt!! still shocked she found that and fast too so yk she's good at this. she's so seriously underrated i love her sm

[ideasnstuff]

Another post?

Turns out I am inspired so.

Let's call this an idea.

It's not customary for Nakahara Chuuya to go out drinking with his colleagues.

Probably because nights and evenings are usually boring and spent filling out piles of paperwork that no matter how much he fill them out, seem to never end.

This is possibly one of the things that Chuuya misses when he wasn't an executive.

Ugh bureaucracy, terrible, boring bureaucracy.

Usually when he was in a bad mood , Kajii, Tachihara or even Hirotsu - if the case is critical - propose a night out at the bar.

Cigarettes, alcohol and linked conversations.

And whatever happened that night, the next day Chuuya didn't remember anything.

Luckily, he didn't drink alone.

(He only did it, on the day his ex-partner had left the mafia. On that night, he had drunk an entire bottle, alone)

So his safety was assured by his colleagues.

And what did they talk about on those nights?

Chuuya didn't know and his colleagues didn't tell him anything either.

So nights like those were a vacuum in his memory.

And honestly, Chuuya didn't really care about that.

Parallel to this event, there was a constant victim - Dazai Osamu.

And he was a victim, due to the fact that he was the target of almost every conversation in that bar.

The last four years had been strangely silent regarding the said man, but on the night the two had worked together, for the first time in four years, Chuuya was simply unbearable.

As far as he knew, Nakahara Chuuya had not contacted his former partner once.

Especially because the man had changed his phone number - Hirotsu and the other two colleagues assumed.

But apparently, Dazai hadn't done it.

The mafia number was still active, and while Chuuya slept on the counter due to his low alcohol tolerance, Hirotsu took the liberty of checking the calls made to Dazai.

Kajii looked curiously at the older man, who sighed seeing the history of left messages.

They had all been sent at night, suggesting the possibility that they had been recorded while drunk.

There was no way of knowing if Dazai had seen them.

But, that night Dazai had answered Chuuya's call, which was cause of suspicion.

Having a mafia phone while not being in the mafia, it was not only risky but stupid.

And even though Hirotsu had told Dazai to delete his number, he had his doubts about the man's response.

So the next time Chuuya went drinking with his colleagues, Hirotsu would accompany him.

The message was given.

He had told Dazai to delete the mafia's number, now all he could do was wait...

"That.... t-that bastard!" one night, Chuuya had said, his voice dragging drunkenly "How dare he to act like that?!"

The executive went on and on about how detestable Dazai was and how much his attitude irritated him.

At that time, Tachihara had been Hirotsu's companion, since Kajii had committed to finishing an experiment with explosive lemons - Hirotsu had not asked for details.

And then, Chuuya with difficulty reached for the cell phone that was in his coat pocket, saying, after a brief moment of silence.

"Imma gonna call.. call him!" he declared with angry eyes and an equally frowning face.

Hirotsu calmly took a sip of his drink, exchanging a knowing look with Tachihara who looked visibly disturbed with the attitudes of his superior.

"Oi! You bastard!"

As soon as Chuuya started speaking, Hirotsu put down his glass, with strange tranquility and let out a sigh.

Taking the hint, Tachihara cleared his voice before speaking.

"Chuuya-san?" Chuuya looked at him with a questioning look; Tachihara smiled a little uncomfortably "Who is it?"

Chuuya didn't respond, staring at the other inexpressively.

Until he said, pulling the phone away from his ear with a sigh.

"A bastard who never answers his phone!" he said with irritated exaltation and then, he turned the screen to Tachihara who frowned slightly "See? He never answers my calls!"

"Mackerel" had, indeed,answered the phone. But maybe Chuuya was too drunk to realize that.

Tachihara wanted to tell him that, opening his mouth, but Hirotsu raised a hand in disapproval.

Instantly, Tachihara closed his mouth.

The older man sighed.

"Chuuya-kun...he doesn't respond..."with a swift movement, Hirotsu took the phone from his hands "No more phone calls"

The executive was heard grumbling.

Tachihara approached the man and invited him to have a cigarette to calm down, and eventually Chuuya accepted.

"Dazai-kun." after Chuuya left the place with Tachihara, Hirotsu said "I thought I told you to delete this number." he patiently continued, "I don't know if I can distract a drunk Chuuya-kun for much longer."

Dazai, on the other end of the line, let out a surprise gasp, as if he was not aware of the situation.

*Hirotsu-san! Wonderful to hear from you again!"

"Dazai-kun. Delete your old mafia number" the man said fully.

But Dazai laughed.

"Ehhh? Was this Chuuya's number?"

"Yes."

And then he let out a surprised sound, as fake as Dazai could make it.

"I... I didn't know! I assure you Hirotsu-san, if I had known it was Chuuya's number. Guh. Just his name makes me cringe in disgust. Ugh."

For unknown reasons, Hirotsu felt as if he was watching - hearing a play.

Made by a very talented actor.

Then, Dazai sighed.

"I would never have answered! I didn't even know this was Chuuya's number!"

No matter how many excuses and lies Dazai made, it was obvious that the only person Dazai had contacted through that number was Chuuya.

Besides, Dazai didn't even talk to them.

Except with Chuuya.

That's why...

"Delete that number. I'm not responsible for the calls Chuuya-kun was making." he explained to him "You better not have that number anymore, next time"

Dazai was silent for a few seconds and then let out a good-natured laugh.

"Of course! I think it will be better! I don't want to make the terrible mistake for answering Chuuya's call!" he paused before adding with disgust, "Ugh gross"

Hirotsu just told him.

"Delete this number, Dazai-kun. I wish you the best."

"Considered it done! It was nice speaking to you Hirotsu-san!" Dazai said cheerfully "Bye-bye!"

The call ended.

However, the next time Chuuya went out drinking, Hirotsu was not present.

That time, Tachihara had been the one who had gone drinking with the executive.

And then, when Hirotsu asked him what had happened....

Tachihara had told him

"Remember when you told the other guy to delete his phone number?"

Hirotsu had nodded affirmatively.

"Loud and clear."

The other smiled.

"And guess what?"

The eldest waited for his answer.

"I spent the entire night hearing Chuuya-san talking to a damn phone and the other guy did answered him- but Chuuya-san kept saying the bastard never answers while talking to me about a guy I don't know."

Hirotsu blinked.

"Ugh I may like Chuuya-san's company but, Hirotsu-san, never make me hear his drunk ramblings about this guy."

Well, turns out Dazai didn't listen to Hirotsu.

Of course he didn't.

What was he expecting?

Getting Dazai Osamu away from Nakahara Chuuya had always been an impossible challenge.

He sighed as he brought the cigarette to his lips.

"I suppose... some things never change."

The cigarette smoke filled the air in a circular motion until it rose and disappeared.

[aryomengrande]

ogre and the cockroaches ( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡)💢

souya / takashi / atsushi / hanemiya

[darabeatha]

/ I've noticed that at this point I'm not even writing on any blog anymore, I just come and yell about some blorbo and leave. Rinse and repeat my lieges

[autism-disco]

the car seat is headresting that’s for certain

[fist-amidst-the-hands]

happy wip wednesday! this one is the ed’s pov version of this post

—————————-

“Izzy.” Ed waits, knowing Izzy is playing out any responses that lead to him going back to bed. Fortunately there are none, or at least none that Izzy deems worth the effort to argue with him over.

With a sigh, he hears Izzy rustle around for a moment before there’s suddenly a blanket in his arms. “Fine.”

[mouseonvenus-main]

I only ever posted like two of these but in honor of the new year I'm forcing you to look at my 2022 art compilation

[Image description: a collage of 31 digital and traditional drawings of original characters and fanart. End ID]

[asahicore]

cold hands - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. sunghoon x fem!reader

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

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

word count. 39.5k 😂

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

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

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

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

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

Just to name a few:

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

“Dude, you’ll never guess what.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t believe them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon nods. “Good to know.”

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

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

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

Sunghoon can already feel it. The beginning of something.

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon smiles. “Probably, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There you guys are!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re on, Sim.”

“You’re going down, Sim.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon thinks he just fell in love.

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

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

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

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

“They really don’t.”

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

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

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

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

“Where’s that choir of yours?”

--

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

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

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

“You had time to bake?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I came to your concerts!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if they come back for them?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Better than Berta’s banana bread?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For sure.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That makes sense.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’d be my pleasure.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

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

“Your mom must be really strong.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you don’t. 

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

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

He can hardly fall asleep that night.

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was his first mistake. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It is easy. You’re making it hard.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was his second mistake.

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

yn.sim i’ll be there!!

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

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

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

“Your team jacket?” 

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

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

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

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

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

He was terrified—but infinitely excited, too.

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

“Okay.”

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

Your smile widened. “Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that was when he saw you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey. I was wondering where you were.” 

“You’re the one who came late.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “Mh-hm.”

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

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

“It looks good. You look good.”

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

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

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

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

You sigh. “Okay. Where’s your room?” 

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

“Oh, that was Jaemin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve missed you.”

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon nods. “I know. It’s nice.”

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

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

“Just us two?” 

“Just us two.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrug. “Basically, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I wasn’t that bad!”

“I should’ve filmed you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right. See you, Y/N. Sunghoon.” 

Back to no-nickname basis, apparently.

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

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

“Mh-hm.”

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

“Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you agree that I’m tall?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You-what?”

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

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

“Sure.”

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

“Looking for validation,” Sunghoon says.

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

“That’s smart.”

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

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

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

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

“Minjeong?”

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re like, nineteen…”

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

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

“Minjeong, I promise-”

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

“Okay.”

“And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Go inside.” 

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

--

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

yn are you still up for doing something this week?

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

She never lets things get serious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grab his hand; it warms him right up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you wanna come up?”

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

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

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

“Minjeong karaokes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re me,” he replies breathlessly.

“Hm?”

“I mean, me too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, please.”

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re better than a dream.

“I feel great. Do you feel great?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

After that night, Sunghoon forgets how to act right.

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

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

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

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

He has never felt so awkward in his life.

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

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

“I haven’t!”

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

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

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

“Yes, after we had sex,” he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

“Minjeong’s out at karaoke tonight.”

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

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

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

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

“I was gone two minutes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hangs up and meets your flatmates’ worried eyes. 

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

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

“Have you guys tried saying something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So this has to do with your parents?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Since I met her, basically.”

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

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

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

“How did you know, anyway?”

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

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

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

“I didn’t want to make things weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everyone…”

“Everyone?!”

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

“So everyone.”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Great.” Jake sighs. “Since when?”

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

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

“‘Cause of Heeseung?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at you. Down bad, huh?”

“Shut up.”

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

“Seriously?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t change the subject.”

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

“What would happen more than once?”

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

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

“Yeah, what did you think?”

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

“Well, we were.”

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

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

“Damn.”

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

Jake frowns. “Why not?”

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

“What are you scared of?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not really, no.”

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

“Jay texted me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff. “Excuse me?”

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

“That’s different-”

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

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

“Of course I do! But I have to.”

“No, you don’t-”

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

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

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

“Again, that’s different-”

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

“You heard me,” you say coldly.

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

You glance at him. “Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

What was Sunghoon?

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

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

No, okay, it was definitely your fault.

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

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

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

“What is?”

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

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

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

“I don’t think I do, actually.”

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

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

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

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

“So you are going after him?”

“So you do like him?”

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

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

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

“And how have you gathered that?”

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

“I’m not-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you went home for a weekend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It wasn’t any of your business.”

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

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

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

“Why can’t he?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God forbid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not to them, it doesn’t.”

“Then forget them.”

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

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

“I wish it was.”

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

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

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

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

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

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what has it been about?” 

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

“I love you.”

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

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

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

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

“I was waiting for you to say something.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I think I have too.”

“You think?”

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you need, baby?”

“You.”

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

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

“I’m not sure I do, actually.”

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

“That I can do.”

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

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

“I love it, Hoon.”

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

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

“Please what?”

“Need you. Need your dick, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feels so good, Hoon,” you moan.

“I know, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[thepradapariah]

Mars ☄️ and Your Sexxx Language 🐱💋✨

QUICK MESSAGE TO THE BADDIES

HELLO!!!! To all of my sweet, sweet Kosmic Baddies, Oh!! How I’ve missed you!

I cannot believe it’s been over a FRIGGIN year, but GOODNESS….believe me, when I say this past year has been a roller coaster for me, I truly mean it. I can only imagine what’s been going on in your lives as well. Just TOO MUCH!!!1111!!!!!111!!!!!1 But welcome to 2024! A universal 8 year and the year of the Dragon!!! WE IN THIS THANNNNGGG!!!! Hard work, discipline and accountability is the theme, and we can’t lose!!!!!

Believe it or not, I actually STARTED writing this to have to you for Halloween, but ummmm….this is looking like a Valentine’s Day post instead! HA!!!! Blame it on my Saturn in Pisces– my relationship to time is….non existent. But, I think this timing is better anyways. The theme is very fitting so we are going to turn apples into oranges.

***Even funnier update, now it’s past Valentine’s Day….GOODNESS!!! This has been the longest it’s taken me to write anything. Like…INSANE. Almost 6 months I’ve been steadily working on this!

Thank you to those who have continued to support me! Thank you to those who have continued to share and interact with my post through my…let’s say, hiatus! I am planning to put more energy and effort into this blog post. I LOVE writing for y’all, it is really one of my favorite things in the world.

I am going to take a moment to apologize in advance and say, the typos are probably going to be real with this one. Because I’ve been working on it for so long, I’m just ready to get it out, so it won’t be my cleanest work. I will probably be updating and editing, so bare with me!

🕯 INTRODUCTION 🕯

Sooooo….where to start? I wanted to do something fun and interesting this go round because I missed y’all so much, but I also wanted to do something light so I could get back into the rhythm of writing again….aaaaaaaaaand I thought you would enjoy something a little smexiiiii as we move into cuddle buddy season. So, in this post, we are going to talk about Mars and Your Sexxx language.

One day, as I was driving around town, it dawned on me that we always talk about Love Languages (check out my Mercury post if you haven’t already) and we never talk about sex languages. And y’all know me, and if you don’t know, you’ll soon find out, I am a Bharani moon (atmakaraka at that); and the blending between Mars and Venus is my soul’s most valuable asset to share with the world…(Did I mention my moon is the 11th House?) Sex is one of the most taboo topics (in Western puritan culture, at least), yet such a powerful resource in our human tool box and it’s ridiculously important in our relationships. The 7th House is followed by the 8th House for a reason. Intimacy, of course not always sexual, is what leads to self-discovery, the 9th House. So we cannot overlook the important step that is sexual relations. Even the word “orgasm” means “little death” and death baby, is as close as you get to God. (See how those houses flow together so well?) Hence why things such as Tantra are a sexual AND religious experience all in one. Don’t be fooled by western/christian ideals into thinking that sex is unholy or ungodly. If you think Jesus was a virgin, think again. I mean, what’s the point of turning water into wine if you’re just going to roll over and go to sleep? Y’know what I mean?

Don’t worry! If you’re a less experienced reader, and haven’t engaged in aaaaallll thhhaattt… this post is still for you! In fact, this is one of the reasons I love astrology so much, because hopefully this post will give you some context about yourself and what your SOUL craves, not just your body, so when you do start “doing the do” you can be spiritually comfortable with your wants and desires instead of ashamed or even afraid of them.

Not to put all my business on the street…but, hey, I love y’all, so I won’t keep too many secrets from you (mercury in the 8th, HA)…but, I had to do quite a bit of bumping and grinding to discover what my soul needs in an intimate relationship and I wish there was more of “guide” for me on that journey! So HERE…I’m giving it to you!

WHAT IS A SEX LANGUAGE? 😈

To be completely honest, a “sex language” isn’t something as defined as a love language, so please, bear with me as we discover this together. Please feel free to share any experiences or insight with me. Although I may not always respond, I TRULY appreciate you taking the time to share with me. I try to read everything that I can!

I’m defining sex language as how one creates and shares intimacy in their close relationships. This is particularly expressed through physical interactions and outward expressions. Mars is a planet that governs our passions, drives and desires, meaning our sex language is guided by what we deeply want and crave from our partners on a spiritual level. Venus represents more of the external notions that we have for love and relationships, while Mars represents our internal needs from love and relationships. Mars is inherently a more personal and “self-centered” planet, so interestingly enough, your sex language is all about you! I go as far to say, when you find a partner, don’t forget to check your Mars compatibility as well. If you have extremely incompatible Mars signs, you will have to do a lot more work in the relationship to overcome the constant friction. Moreover, if you have more compatible Mars signs, then WOOOO BABY, the sexual tension could be off the charts!

✨ ABOUT MARS ✨

Mars placements won’t make or break a relationship, per say, but it is a very important layer to help maintain a relationship. How many of you have heard of sexless marriages and people being unsatisfied in their relationships in a sexual way? Does that mean the couples always break-up because of the lack of sex or chemistry? No…..But does it help a HECK OF A LOT when you are wildly attracted to your partner? YES! (Of course this isn’t always a good thing…but for the sake of this post, we are only talking about rainbows and sunshine.) Just keep this in mind as you start to use this knowledge in your journey. Mars is a really important planet that is easy to overlook because it’s not in the Big Three! (Yet, it iiissss the natural ruler of the 1st House).

WHY IT ALL MATTERS 🌚

I truly believe there is a shift in the collective and many couples are going to be coming into union over the course of the next year or so. Why? Because Ketu is FINALLY transitioning out of Libra and entering Virgo. If you’ve noticed, we’ve seen quite a bit of celebrity break-ups and covid relationships coming to a screeching halt. Hence why I say, if you’ve been single, or haven’t been in a serious connection in the last few years or even ever, now is the time that your next partner might be going through some significant ending with an ex. Union is on the horizon for a lot of souls who have been doing theeee spiritual work. That’s why I couldn’t think of a better topic to get started to set the mooooooooood. Bow-chicka-wow-wow.

So without further ado, let’s get into the nitty gritty. I’m going to do something different and start with Mars in Pisces/12th House and work backwards to Mars in Aries/1st House! I thought “Hey! Why not switch it up a bit? Pisces shouldn’t be forced to scroll ALL the time!”

***Note: If you’re feeling extra spicy, you can read for whatever sign is in your 1st House and 8th House as well because those are traditionally Mars ruled Houses. And you can read for your 12H, because the 12H is also the house of bedroom pleasures! Always keep in mind that we are complex creatures and astrology is like a puzzle, so it’s okay for some things to resonate and other things to not. Learn as many perspectives as possible so you can define yourself!

With Love & Lust,

Enjoy!

A-D 💋

Mars in Pisces/Mars in the 12th House

“Cut me like a rose, turn me like a beast” Only- Ry X

If your natal Mars is in Pisces or the 12H, you may actually have a hard time knowing what your desires are. Why? Because Mars can feel as if it’s drowning in the deep spiritual waters of Pisces. Your wants can be quite dreamy. You crave a sexual experience that transcends space and time, forcing you to leave your body and touch God himself in ecstasy. (I’m a western Mars in Pisces, so…I get it). When it comes to your sex language, you want your partner to just get “you”. You don’t want to have to explain or talk or direct, you’d rather just receive and give a special type of unconditional love that knows no bounds. Because of this “boundless love”, you may actually, literally, lack boundaries. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing, so we are going to focus on the positive. You are truly accepting of those who are accepting of you. Because Pisces is a mutable sign, you are willing to fit into whatever box your partner wants to put you in…and you receive great pleasure from making a deep seeded fantasy of your partner come true. You could be just as playful and imaginative when it comes to role-playing as a Gemini.

Because Mars is in Pisces or the 12H, you’ll find that a lot of partners will project their wishes and dreams onto you. Hence why you want a love that is really deep, because people can get washed away in the shallow end of your energy without ever fully realizing how deep your waters flow. This can be frustrating. And because Mars isn’t the most comfortable here, you can have some unhealthy ways of expressing your sexual frustration. Particularly if your Mars is in the 12H, you can be attracted to self-gratification through self-pleasure and also self-harm. You may even conflate the two, harm & pleasure, and have a dark side to your sexual fantasies. Your passions and desires can end up being repressed because people may not understand them, or be able to meet your high expectations. Amd babes, I love you, but just know, your expectations out of partnership are OTHERWORLDLY. But no worries!! You are SUPER DUPER freaky and almost a guaranteed partner that will go down in history books, particularly after you get comfortable in your own sensuality.

One of the things to watch out for with this Mars, is you can be passive-aggressive in the bedroom. You can take a more passive role, expecting and energetically demanding that your partner take the lead. You may not realize you even give off this energy, but the internal need that you have to dissolve into your partner, like sugar into water, can be very intense. And the gag is, sugar doesn’t really fully dissolve, so what you’re seeking can be impossible to satisfy on the earthly plane. Because of this, it is IMPERATIVE for you to have spiritual outlets within your sexual connections. It may be that you and your partner practice Tantra, or you simply pray together. With this Mars, you can absolutely use sex as a tool for manifestation. Watch your thoughts during sex, because you truly can create MAGIK!

Mars in Aquarius or Mars in the 11th House

“I believe in aliens, I don’t believe in love” Familiarity by Teezo Touchdown

If your natal Mars is in Aquarius or the 11th House, you are something special. Why? Because out of all the signs, you are the most unique lover. I KNOW!!! How friggin’ cliche, Aquarius=Unique, blah blah blah…boring. YES! It’s said all the time, but it’s the truth. In Vedic Astrology, it is important to note that Aquarius is ruled by Saturn and Rahu. This is hugely impactful as to why you are unlike anyone else. Even as you read this, you won’t be exactly like the next person reading this, because the Saturn Rahu combination can be influenced by so many different factors. Aquarians are the hardest sign to write for in general, simply because you are going to be very individualist when it comes to how you express yourself. Now, all that being said, you still crave, very deeply, a sense of belonging. So please, don’t ever take for granted how special you are. If someone is lucky enough to break through your hard exterior, they really are in for an extraterrestrial experience!

Because Mars is in an air sign here, you may or may not be the most sensual and/or sexual person on the planet. You could be. But you could not be. And that is the gift…or curse…of this Mars placement. I have Mars in Aquarius myself, and I remember reading an article that said “this placement can be infuriating to your partner because you are so nonchalant.” And I can definitely say I’ve lost relationships because the other party assumed I was disinterested because I wasn’t the most expressive when it came to my emotions. It’s important to remember that Mars in Aquarius/11H is actually a neutral placement. It isn’t a death sentence or the worst thing on the planet, but it’s not necessarily the best. So don’t be too hard on yourself if your partners don’t understand you very easily. You will just have to do more work to learn how to communicate and accommodate in your relationships. This may be something that follows you throughout life…and forget your partner….it could be infuriating to you! BUT NO WORRIES! Mars in Aquarius or Mars in the 11th house is usually more concerned with developing and nurturing friendships, which seems to contradict the more lustful side of Mars. Longing for friendship and connection versus longing for sensual pleasure and connection can be seen as two different things.

What Mars in Aquarius/11H wants more than anything is L. O. Y. A. L. T. Y. Because this Mars placement can grant so much freedom, it is imperative for the person with this placement to feel safe and secure in the sexual relationship they are building. This is NOT to be confused with possession. Expecting loyalty from a partner isn’t the same as feeling as if you own your partner. You believe that your partner should have freedom to express and live their life the way they want to, and you expect the same in return. However, you do expect your partner to consider you when they make their decisions in life. It is very much “give a dog a bone, leave a dog alone, let a dog roam and he’ll find his way home” (S/o DMX, may he rest in peace). Meaning, in your sexual language, you want your space and privacy, but you want to feel a belonging no matter how far away you are from your partners.

NOW, for the fun stuff. You are one of the most explorative lovers on the planet. You may have a “the more the merrier” type attitude and be interested in group smexii time or oragies. You may have a dream to experience Amsterdam and the Red Light District. The beauty in having your Mars in an air sign/house is that you can remain detached from the sexual experience and partner– therefore, you may not experience jealousy because you aren’t super possessive. Again, you’re all about freedom baby!!! You may also have some pretty “far-out” kinks. You may be interested in different genders, or same gender, or mix gender or no gender or latex or pantyhoes or dress up or furries or hentai or tentacle porn….and if you’re not into it, chances are you will at least click a questionable link or two. You don’t carry the same shame as others do when it comes to what turns you on sexually. You don’t like anything boring or too routine, so your search history could be a bit…odd….BUT HEY!!! As long as it’s not hurting anyone or anything and pleasure is being derived from all parties involved, then let adults do what adults do is kind of your attitude.

Friendship is the key to your heart…and to your…uh…biological box….lol. When it comes to long-term relationships, I can bet my bottom dollar that you’re far more interested in the friendship aspects than the inherent relationship drama. When your friends ask “why are you still dealing with them”, you will follow up with “well, we are friends before anything else.” And you mean that deeply. The really funny thing is…on the other hand, you are also very likely to get down with complete strangers and never think about it again. You can hook-up and detach with the best of them, or your loyalty to a confidant can keep you in a relationship for a very long time…it. Just. depends.

The one thing that is true about your sex language, is that you speak ALL different kinds. When you look back at your life and your experiences, if you are more of an adventurous Aquarian, lets say you have a lot of air and fire in your chart, you will most likely have all kinds of stories from all different people and places. You will be one of the most interesting partners and friends to talk to about all the mixed bags of experiences that you’ve had..which is awesome. If your Mars in Aquarius/11H is paired with a more “earthy” sign or even water, you will most likely have a rom-com type love thing happening…that tugging “will they/won’t they” energy at the beginning of relationships, only to fall head over heals with the “guy/gal next door”. You may also find your sexual partners online, in a group setting or be hooked up by natural friends. “How’d you meet?” “Oh, I heard from a friend of a friend that that d*ck is a ten out of ten!”

Mars in Capricorn or Mars in the 10th House

“My vicious love, My lethal heart, I wanna screw you up into me” - Bad Bad Bad by Ramsey

If your natal Mars is in Capricorn or in the 10th House, then your sexual language is money, money…and….uh….more money. I kid, I kid…but not really. It would be easy and predictable for me to say you just lust after money, but it goes much deeper than that. Believe it or not, Mars is actually exalt in Capricorn, so, you couldn’t have a better Mars placement. Your natural ruler Saturn and Mars truly are the best of friends. And if you’re familiar with Tarot, then you know The Devil represents Capricorn energy and The Devil is all about seduction and temptation. Unlike some of the more dreamy Mars placements like Pisces/12H or Cancer 4H that use their sexual language as an escape from reality, or the detached air placements like Gemini/3H or Aquarius/11H, who are too aloof to harness Mars’ energy, YOU my Capricorn/10H individuals are acutely aware of how powerful the nature of sex can be…and most importantly, how it can be used to your advantage.

To the average person on the street, you may not seem like the super sexual type. You prefer a sophisticated lover to a “cute” one, so people can assume that your standards are too high. And perhaps, your standards are high, because you understand the value of your presence and your time. In fact, you HATE wasting time, so why would you waste time on lovers who don’t bring anything to the table? Sadly, for most of the public, they won’t ever have the experience to be with a Capricorn/10H Mars because quite frankly, they can’t afford it.

Funnily enough, I’m sure as you’ve been reading this, you’re like “dang…am I that shallow?” And the answer is yes and no. You’re shallow because we live in a shallow world– and you know in order to survive it, you have to use what you got to get what you want. The other side of this is, you’re not shallow at all because you are willing to work and discipline yourself and sacrifice for those that you truly care about. There is such a depth to you in the long run, that it makes sense that you make it really difficult for people to get to you. Because you know and I know, once you’ve committed to someone, you’ve committed for as long as you possibly can. Your sexual language is all about stamina and endurance. This is true in and and out of the bedroom. As an earth sign/house, you are a sensual being. You enjoy each and every bit of romance that you can get. A nice meal, some good perfume, dressed to the nines is all considered foreplay to you. You entice your partners with a certain dignified class and only the brave will approach. In your younger years, you could find this extremely frustrating at times because men will really have to get their sh*t together before they can even THINK to approach you on that level. But the more that you use your Mars to get you where you want to be in life, partners will follow behind you and constantly buzz around as if you are the Queen Bee and they are mere workers for your attention.

Funnily enough, you are quite the heart-breaker with this Mars placement. Because you are so focused on your goals outside of love, and yet, you can crave sensual pleasures, you will be very direct with a partner, but they may not be aware of how serious you take yourself. How can this manifest? Let’s say you meet a partner and everything is groovy, but you are working on a big project for work, you’re working on a degree of some kind, or you’ve said you won’t rest until you make partner at the big company…unlike other Mars placements, you won’t let romance sway you or take you off track. You are probably the best example of “right person, wrong time”. You don’t have as much of an issue as other signs walking away from a situation that is distracting you from your more worldly desires. This can leave people utterly confused, because you seem like a perfect partner, but honestly, you’re just not focused on aaaalll the drama that can come with fully committed relationships. People may actually take this energy and say that you’re a player…or worse…a floozy (one of my favorite words lol, definitely needs to make a comeback). You actually aren’t. You will be one of the most committed partners they could find, but if it’s not the right time…it just ain’t happening. So your partners will have to maintain some level of patience or they will miss out. On the other hand, because Mars is a planet of extremes, you may go through periods in life where you are celebate. It may take you awhile to stop channeling that Martian ambitious energy into your career and put it towards your sexuality. That being said, you will enjoy the more sensual side of sex. You could have great stamina and endurance. Because sex may not come around as often as you’d like, you will learn to savor every drop of your partners and please them in a calculated, thoughtful and masterful way! How smeeexxxiiiiiii!!!!!

Mars in Sagittarius or Mars in the 9th House

“I’ve been everywhere, man, looking for someone. Someone who can please me, love me all night long” Where Have You Been by Rihanna

If your natal Mars is in Sagittarius or the 9th House, your sexual language is that of many languages. You fall in love with the exotic, unknown and unexplored. You like your partners like James Bond likes his cars– foreign. You appreciate partners who expand your understanding of reality. Your partners have to expand your mind…and body…into positions that you never thought were possible. If you don’t attract partners who are of a different race, culture or class from you, then you will be attracted to partners who are otherworldly and spiritual or are just as serious about their religious beliefs as you are. Like Mars in Pisces/12H, your planet is ruled by the planet Jupiter, aka Guru. You NEED to learn from your partner. You NEED to explore with your partner. And you NEED to be able to teach your partners something as well. “I wanna know…can you show me…I wanna know about the strangers like me”...It’s giving…Tarzan and Jane. I have Mars in the 9th House, and it has manifested in a very fun way! So with my bias, I believe that this can be one of the more fun placements if you just go with the flow. Unlike other Mars placements, you don’t necessarily feel the need to control your partners. You’d much rather experience them, learn the lesson and move on to the next new shiny thing. Much like your brother, Gemini, you are equally as invested in getting the knowledge and seeking more knowledge. You of all signs are unlikely to overstay your welcome in a relationship. You can come off quite restless and unsatisfied…UNLESS you are just fascinated and enamored with an individual.

You can find yourself attracted to people who have accents, or speak a different language than you. But you will be even more turned on by someone who shares the same religious beliefs as you. You may actually be willing to convert religions for your partner OR, and this is more likely, you have a partner who is a different religion than you are, and instead of being ashamed by it, or making it an obstacle, you embrace it– ultimately respecting their religion, while maintaining the traditions of your own.

You will naturally desire to travel with your partner. Making some of your favorite memories in life when you made-love in some far off land. If the sentence, “I made love to a Frenchman I met while eating a baguette at the local cafe under the Eiffel tower and I’ll never see him again, but he’s the love of my life” turns you on…congratulations, you’re in the right spot.

This Mars placement is fueled by your deepest desire to see the world and its deepest truth, and then just imagine how much you can learn about the world through the lens of an intimate partner. Your sexual language, like I said earlier, involves language in and of itself. You want to hear the stories of distants lands, fascinated by the foreign nature of your divine counterpart. You will want to be intimate with partners who can speak for hours and hours about their adventures and endeavors. You need to be intrigued at the very least.

I also find that with this placement, there may be an age difference in your relationships. You either will be attracted to someone who is much older and wiser, OR, interesting enough, you could find yourself with someone younger. Why is this? You will appreciate a person who still has zest for life. You will be equally attracted to partners who are bright eyed and bushy tailed! Plus, I know I’ve talked a lot about your partner entertaining and teaching you, but the truth of the matter is, you will want to be as much of a sage to your partner as well. You will enjoy teaching them the ways of life and the pursuit of happiness. They will look to you with eyes of wonder as you paint beautifully vivid pictures of your life experiences that have shaped your view of the world.

Another element to this Mars placement, is you are one to challenge authority. This may manifest in your sex language by liking to explore BDSM culture in some way. Because this Mars is all about freedom, you may be turned on by the thought of your partner controlling you…just so you can say no. You can come off as a “well, make me”...kind of lover when it comes to foreplay. You love a challenge and you like partners who challenge you in some way when it comes to living out your sexual fantasies. Another way this may come out is you AND your partner may have a knack for getting into trouble or enjoying sex with some kind of risk involved. You get off being able to sneak away for a quickie. You’ll have sex in the backseat of a car. Joining the mile club is definitely on your bucket list…all the things! Because you are such a rebel, you tell stories that have “normies” clutching their pearls and leave their mouths open. You want to have memorable sex that is worth writing a book about!!!

I can not drive home enough how spiritual your sexual relationships have the potential to be. You are not a shallow lover. You are a lover full of wonder and full of lust…wanderlust…if you will. Sagittarius/9H is a very serious zodiac/house. You're destined to seek truth– so your sexual partners HAVE to enlighten you in some way. You don’t want to get stuck in the mundane, boring stuff of a relationship, (and please, don’t get too carried away, because we do live on planet earth!) you want to experience shrooms, talk about God and make love in the forest! Smexxiiii!!!!

Mars in Scorpio or Mars in the 8th House

“Every breath you take, every move you make, every smile you fake, every single day, I’ll be watching you” Every Breath You Take by Sting

Okay, okay, it would be all too easy to say your love language is stalking, and more stalking and even more stalking, but…that’s only a small fraction of what this Mars placement has to offer. If your natal Mars is placed in Scorpio or in your 8th House, your sexual language is that of raw passion and intensity. That being said, it is also about restraint and self-restriction, and sometimes self destruction. I tend to find Scorpionic energy and 8H energy to be radically internal. You, actually, may not be the most expressive lover. You are more comfortable waiting, studying and planning to pursue a lover, rather than going in full force. Because Mars is your natural ruler, Mars is more than comfortable here, but unlike your brother sign, Aries, you are more of the “planning” part of war, rather than action. This is the strategy of self-defense more than anything. You don’t want to walk into an intimate situation to be intimate yourself, you want to extract vulnerability from your partner like a detective solving a murder crime. Your sex language is more of a riddle than a question. And you would like a partner who intrigues you and leaves a lot of mystery. In my many many years of dating, and many many encounters with Scorpionic energy (I attract them like flies…it’s crazy) I always find that Scorpios are nowhere near as mysterious or hard to figure out as they perceive. Behind all that black and dark stares and gazed is usually a pretty pretty boring, but shy person. There is such a caution with this sign when it comes to acting on those very deep and sometimes all consuming desires, so you are very careful to not put yourself in harm's way. Another hot take that I have on this placement that may seem a bit contradictory to the Scorpionic stereotype is YES YES YES, you are smexxxxiiii and all of the things, but that doesn’t necessarily make you the most sexual person. You take intimacy and sexy very seriously, more seriously than most, because for you intimacy and vulnerability can be used against you and be seen as a weakness, so you are hard pressed to just be going around willy-nilly swinging from partner to partner. You also view sex/intimacy as more of a “power” thing than a “love” thing. And what do I mean by that? You know that deep intimacy and truly being intertwined with another individual gives you an unreal amount of access to that person on a personal and spiritual level. It is always important to remember where Scorpio/8H lines up in the grand scheme of things. It follows the Libra/7H of partnership. The 8H is actually the house that dictates how a relationship will play out. This. Is. Imperative. To understand this placement. You are far more focused on how the partnership plays out, rather than the partnership itself. Again, unlike your predecessor, Libra, who is ruled by Venus and may be more interested in the looks of a relationship and romantic partner. Your sexual language is more interested in the psychology of your partner. You don’t care nearly as much about the outside as you do the inside. What draws you to your partner is a need to access the ultimate truths through your partners. Hence why, you are followed by Sagittarius/9H of Truth and Liberation. Your sex language involves restraint, power and hidden truths.

As I said before, it may be really difficult for you at times to truly connect with your partners because your energy can demand sooooo much from them. You will require partners to go through such depths in their relationship with you, that they may not be able to handle it. And on the other side of that, you may stay away from relationships because you may mistakenly feel like it brings out some of your “worst” qualities. With this Mars, you may go through a very intense relationship when you’re young, one where you give your all, I mean…you would kill or be killed for those you love, and because that relationship fails, you may never want to experience those types of lows again and stay away. You are one of the most loyal of the Mars placements, so you are very careful to study who exactly you are giving your loyalty to. I recommend with this placement, you may find yourself oddly attracted to Aquarian/11H energy. It sounds weird, water and air, but in this case, Aquarian energy is endlessly fascinating because they are so unorthodox, you will never truly figure them out, so you’re constantly intrigued by them. Aquarians also value loyalty the same way you do. They will allow you the freedom that you need to sit in your own emotions, but value the friendship in such a way, you won’t feel abandoned by them. Even if the people you are attracted to don’t have Aquarius in their chart, I think that quality is something you should consider when looking into intimate partners. It is probably the partner who gives you the most space and it is the hardest to figure out, that will give you the most in life. If you have a partner that is easy to conquer, not only will you be bored, but you can easily slip into those darker energies of control and manipulation to get you way…even when it’s unnecessary.

AAALLLL that said, you are still a hell of a lover! I mean…wow. You intricately know how to please and conquer. You use sex as a language itself when you’re ready and willing. And man, do you have a way with words. You can easily hypnotize a lover to fall under your command, so be careful with this gift. You are more than comfortable in this arena once you move past your fears in the subconscious. You can channel this energy, much like the exalt Mars in Capricorn to succeed with some of your greatest ambitions. You will put your sexual energy into your work and projects in a way like no other! Just don’t take everything so seriously! It’s okay to have a good time. Be intimate and open up some! You’ll enjoy getting your head out of the sand!

Mars in Libra or Mars in the 7th House

“What a rush & what a high, cause when your love don’t fight, smoke gets in your eyes” Smoke In Your Eyes by Skepta, Ossie, Harry Stone

If you came to this section thinking that I was going to talk about how sweet and balanced you are when it comes to your sexual language…THINK. AGAIN. BABE. You are nothing of the sort. Seems contradictory, huh? Because Libra/7H is all about balance, right? Well…not when it comes to this Mars placement.

If you have your natal Mars in Libra or the 7th House, you are quite the spicy lover. To be completely honest, Mars is VERY uncomfortable here. Why? Because Libra is naturally ruled by the planet Venus, which is essentially the opposite frequency of Mars. I like to think of Mars and Venus as the brother and sister planets of the Milky way. Traditionally ruled by Ares and Aphrodite in Greek mythology respectively, they are technically half-siblings. So when you think of this Mars placement, this of how a girlie-girl would feel surrounded by all boys at a football camp. Sure, she may attract a lot of attention and she may have plenty of options…but she will CERTAINLY have to set clear boundaries to command the respect she deserves, as well as deal with the fact that no one around her may have the same interest. See how this can be uncomfortable? It’s not the worst thing to happen, but it can cause you to feel like you have to play the field a little bit differently because of Mars being in the House of Libra.

Okay, so now that we covered why this placement might be different than what you were imagining, let’s get into what this post is actually about!

If you have this natal placement, your sex language is all about breaking up to make-up. Because you’re on this constant quest of seeking balance, YOU will subconsciously or consciously seek chaos in order to regain balance. Your indecisive and somewhat aloof nature in relationships can be a source of frustration when it comes to your sexual expression with your lovers. If you have Mars in your 7H, you genuinely LOVE conflicts and attract conflicts to your relationships. You can be quite passive aggressive, honestly, and stir the pot to get attention. AAALLLL this being said, you still enjoy the finer things and love the idea of love, even though you may not have the most direct way of going about it. Your partners may even find you hard to read, and this can frustrate you, because your wishy-washy-ness is so innate to you, you may have a tendency to think that everyone is as back and forth with decision making as you are.

Ironically, more so than any of the previous placements I have discussed before, I will focus more on what sexual language you like from your partner rather than yourself. Of course, you like good food, good wine, good clothes, good banter, good company…you have Libra, like DUH, but I want to offer a different perspective on this placement.

So when it comes to your partners, you truly like a partner who takes charge, regardless of sex. You crave a level of masculinity and directness in your love language because as I stated earlier, it can be difficult for you to make decisions for yourself. You overemphasize how people will perceive you, and this can cause you to stunt your decision making, so you’ll find yourself craving a partner who can be unabashedly unapologetic in their approach to life. You seek partners who are brave and courageous and you will find yourself testing anyone you fall in love with to see if they have that spark of passion in them. You may find yourself seeking different things from different people, so you may have multiple lovers– and just like how it may take you forever to pick out your outfit in the morning, it may take you forever to figure out what you value in a partner. It is important to note that Libra/7H energy is indeed a masculine energy. I’m sure most would assume it’s feminine because of the “sophisticated” and charismatically social nature usually associated with Libras, but when it comes to sexual relationships, Taurus/2H energy is the feminine side of Venus. Libra energy in this way is more detached than people would think. As stated earlier, because you enjoy dates, chatting, getting to know people, you may be a really good casual dater! This could send mixed messages to potential lovers because you may have never really had any intention of dating them long-term– or, you really just haven’t decided yet. Now are we starting to see how this Mars placement can attract certain conflict? You will desire and crave a partner that can make decisions for you. This may lead to some kinkiness in the bedroom because you’re open to compromise and you can be bossed around in this regard.

Overall your sexual language is complex because of the inherent contradiction of this natal placement. You can make this work in your favor as long as you keep open communication with your partner, even if it’s to tell them that you need some more time before you’re comfortable making any lasting decisions. When you date, you will have to allow your partners to understand your up & down nature. Most people will probably take your pragmatic nature personally, so if you can find a way to channel this into being sexually playful with your lovers, it can be a great way to keep romance fun and interesting. As stated in the beginning, you are most likely to end up in an on-again-off-again kind of relationship because you like for the scales to be tipped, so you can rebalance them. You are far more detached in commitments than most people would assume, so it is essential for you to date like-minded people who understand that your coldness is not a reflection on your feelings. You choose to remain objective in your judgements and seek fairness in your relationships—even if you are the one who was unfair to begin with! Kiss it kiss it better baby!!!!

Mars in Virgo or Mars in the 6th House

“I got commitment issues, but I’m tryna fix that for you…I don’t believe in love, but that doesn’t mean I don’t take you serious” Commitment Issues by Central Cee

With Mars in Virgo or the 6th House, you may be surprised to find how non-committal you are when it comes to relationships. Why? Because you find relationships to be impractical. So when it comes to your sexual language, you are quite all over the place. Lovers can find you hard to catch, almost like trying to keep a fairy in a jar. You prefer to flutter around and keep things light in the sexual department. To you, sex can scream responsibility. After all, sex can be a pretty risky and dirty affair. All the fluid exchange and, ultimately, the required vulnerability, can make you quite uneasy. With this Mars placement, you can go between the two extremes of putting too much emphasis on sex or not enough emphasis at all. This is due to the natural ruler of Virgo/6H being Mercury, which, I find to be, an asexual planet. You are more interested in the intellectual connection than the physical connection.

BUT PLEASE, don’t get me wrong! You know you’re way around the bedroom. Your sexual language is constantly evolving. You do well with long-term partners that you can trust, study and get to know. You prefer a lover that is loyal, so you don’t have to worry about where they’ve been, or better yet, who they’ve been with. You find joy in repetition with one partner. OR, you are really open to “protected” one-night stands. You are either all in or all out. You don’t like to waste time on sexual relationships that you don’t see a return for a long-term investment. That being said, if you are unable to invest in the long-term, you can find yourself in a position of sexual frustration. You may really desire a person, but because of your deep need for perfection first, you may stall connections & find a lot of pleasure in masturbation for the time being. You, like your opposite sign, Pisces, can really get into your fantasies. You may find that erotica and romance novels can be great resources to pass the time while you likely toil between celibacy and being a whore (this is particularly funny to me because Virgos are known for being the Virgins of the zodiac– hence the contradiction in Mars in Virgo. The planet of sex and desire ruled by a “Virgin” is, uh….a difficult juxtaposition to say the least.) – again, it’s all about mental stimulation with you.

When you do meet a partner that you can FINALLY settle down and feel comfortable with, you will be a very giving lover. Because Virgo energy is usually associated with servitude, you better believe that you will make it your duty to service the object of your affection. You care very deeply about the satisfaction of your partner— far more than you care about your own. As stated earlier, you don’t mind finishing up solo as long as your partner is satisfied. You will find every nook and cranny, every deep desire, every love spot that your partner has, because you will analyze their body with astute detail. You will break your partner’s sexual language down and adapt it to be your own, because after all, you are a mutable sign. As well as being an earth sign, you do have a very deep sensual nature to you. Although you can come across as quite guarded with new partners, once you blossom, you really enjoy heavy petting and physical touch. You can spend so much time in your head and alone with your thoughts in other aspects of your life, you may find it very powerful to have a partner that literally grounds you and brings you back to planet Earth by holding you in their arms. Again, after you’ve bent over backwards (pun intended) to please your partner, you, more than any other sign, except maybe Leo, really needs to be acknowledged and celebrated for your hard work. You don’t take kindly to being undervalued or under appreciated when it comes to your romantic relationships in this context.

Believe it or not, this placement can actually be quite kinky! Why? Because of the influence of Mercury again. As stated before, you want to learn your partner’s as well as you possibly can to make sure you are seen as perfect in their eyes– sooooo, that means you’ll have some exploring to do. Mercury is such a curious planet, that it may not be kinky for the sensual pleasures of it all, but it will be interested in testing out sex & kinks for “research purposes”. This can give you a sort of detached feeling when it comes to sex, which may or may not work in your favor– you’re able to disassociate in a way that makes sex almost an out of body experience…it may take you some time to actually feel pleasure from sex. You are so focused on the other and pleasing your partner, you can forget that sex is supposed to be a two way street! I just want to reiterate, that this placement is so mutable, that you may find yourself pretty ambivalent towards sex at different times in your life. You’re kind of like “eh”. But there is hope, when you find a partner that lights your fire– you will find yourself wanting sex like a child wants candy! There is plenty of potential here for a beautifully active and engaging sex life– it just may take more time to develop than others.

Learn your own kinks! Have fun! Explore the more sensual side of life for yourself!

Anyone who is able to win you over (which is NOT an easy feat by any means) will be able to revel in the fact that you are such a wonderful lover! But don’t forget, sex is not a test that you can get an A + in, it’s supposed to be the culmination and celebration of it all!

Mars in Leo or Mars in the 5th House

“She may be the queen of hearts, but I’m the queen of your body parts” - Cockiness, Rihanna

If you have Mars in Leo or Mars in the 5th House, you are Britney Spears, all eyes on me in the center of the ring just like a circus, bay-bee. You LOVE to put on a show. Your sexual language can make love-making a spectacle! You’re over the top, you’re loud, you roar. You LOVE LOVE LOVE the attention. So much so, you may not even need sex to fulfill that internal desire for you. Huh? What do I mean? I mean, you may be satisfied using your creative gifts for sexual gratification. Chances are with this placement, you are highly creative and charismatic. You find sensual pleasure in being able to share your creative gifts with other people. Haven’t you heard of entertainers saying they had so much fun on stage, it was orgasmic? That’s where you come in.

Ironically, I don’t naturally find this placement to be the most sexual. Don’t get me wrong, you are DOWN DIGGITY for a good time, but you really use sex as an ego booster. You may even be quite lazy in the bedroom. You could easily live by the code “my present is my presence” and be a dazzling pillow princess. This isn’t a bad thing, and it definitely doesn’t have to be the case all the time! When you’re turned on, you’re turned on, but when you’re just casually engaging in sex, or are in a long-term commitment, you may feel like sex is something that is owed to you. Not in a weird entitled way, but more like a Queen sitting on a chaise lounge being fed grapes– like, “duh, you should have sex with me, I’m beautiful”, type energy. This, if you haven’t been able to guess already, can lead to a selfish attitude in the love-making department. You must remember that sometimes, your partner wants to be catered to as well. That being said, you won’t shy away from Valentine’s Day. You are the type to go all out! You’ll put on the lingerie. You’ll lay out the rose petals on the bed. You’ll pay extra for that honeymoon suite. OR, you will expect your partner to do all of this without you asking. You treat holidays and sex as if it’s a royal affair.

Due to your standards being so high, I cannot express to you enough that you may really put all your sexual energy into your creative pursuits until you find a lover of high-value and high sex drive. You love and somewhat need to feel desired in order to break down your walls. You don’t play hard to get– you ARE hard to get, so this may leave you with extended periods of non-sexual activities. You are more than willing to give up sexual pleasure for your own personal pursuits– in fact, you are more likely to do that if you have specific career goals.

You may be a tad bit surprised at my interpretation of Mars in Leo, perhaps you were assuming it would be a bit spicier, but I challenge you to look at your ruler, the Sun (yes, the actual burning ball of fire in the sky) . Not literally…well, you can, but make sure you wear sun-glasses. But in all seriousness, the Sun shines alone. The Sun is too hot to let anything near it, and it carries such a gravitational pull, that things simply orbit around it, but can never get too close. With Mars in Leo/5th House, you may find yourself in this position when it comes to your sexual nature. You attract a lot of people towards you, but they are unable to get too close, for fear they will burn up in your presence. Or, you shine so bright, you are forced to do it alone. Being the Sun and the center of the Universe is a hard job, but ultimately an isolating job. Your being, your creative gifts, your star power and the way you shine can cast such a shadow on those who dare come near you. It really can be one of the most challenging placements because you probably won’t understand why people can’t/don’t come near you. Again, you’re just soooo great, people can have an overwhelming and unrealistic ideal of what it will take to make you happy. It’s a double-edged sword. On one hand, it’s flattering, but on the other hand, you can suffer from being put so high up on a pedal stool that you never asked for!

One tip for you, is to keep your hair beautiful and lushes! People will be attracted to your wild side and want to bring that out of you. You can either really love having your hair pulled or be turned off by it because you spend so much time making it look perfect. Either way, your hair may be an essential part of foreplay for you and something that suitors may find undeniably sexy.

As long as you are mindful to share the spotlight from time to time and not always prioritizing your needs & your desires, you can be a remarkably loyal partner. Fierce is the word that comes to mind and you can be very fierce in the bedroom. (When you want to be.) You can outshine any of the competition. Most people truly can’t hold a candle to you when it comes to how committed you are in an intimate relationship. You are proud and you protect those that are around you and that you deem worthy. You have a royal air that surrounds you and it loudly and proudly screams `bow down bitches' when it's time to get down and dirty!

Mars in Cancer or Mars in the 4th House

“Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain, you like your girls insane” Born to Die- Lana Del Rey

If you have Mars in Cancer or Mars in the 4th house, ironically, your sex language involves a knack of overwhelming emotional destruction. Dramatic, yes, yes, I know, but very true. Mars is VERY uncomfortable in the deep waters of Cancer/4H. Mars in the 4th House, in particular, is a naturally difficult placement because it sits in the House of happiness, as well as aspects the 7th House of partnership and the 11th House of friendship– making that native, uh, a little difficult to deal with. Why? Because your emotions can be so erratic and illogical, it can be difficult for people to understand what you want. Heck, you probably don’t understand what you want most of the time. I promise I’ll get to the good stuff, but keep in mind that this Mars placement is in detriment! (It’s exalted in Capricorn, the opposite sign.) So when it comes to your sexual language, you value such a deeply emotional commitment from your partner, you could constantly try to test them by pushing their emotional boundaries.

There is a mixture of pleasure and pain. You love an emotional outburst– this can be good and sexy, or bad and scary. Emotionally bonding make-up sex, is your cup of tea…ESPECIALLY if you are the one who caused the “break-up” in the first place. You truly enjoy engaging with your partner in a loving way, when you can, but because Mars is so unstable here, it can be hard for you to maintain emotional consistency within long-term relationships. You can find that your passions wax and wane for your partner. Sometimes, you just want to run into their arms and kiss them in the pouring rain, other times, you want them to LEAVE YOU DAFUQ ALONE. This can be quite jarring to your intimate partners, but also to yourself. I recommend embracing this quality and being as honest as possible! Instead of literally creating a sh*t storm in order to be left alone, just communicate to your partner that you need a little space from time to time. But also be willing to give your partner that same courtesy and grace if they ask for the same.

You can feel a need to wrap yourself up in your partner's desires. It may come from a genuine place, but because Mars is an aggressive planet, you may be quite aggressive in how you demonstrate your love to your partner because your deepest desire is to be able to emotionally control them. This can manifest in an extremely emotionally manipulative way through passive aggressiveness and just causing overall uneasiness within your dynamics and partnerships. One of the lovely sides about this particular placement, is when you mature, you can have an extremely high emotional I.Q. Because you are naturally very sensitive to your surroundings, you can literally sense the emotional and physical needs of your partner without them having to say a word. You can be so emotionally intune with your lovers, it can feel like telepathy if they need anything from you. You just know, y’know?

In the bedroom, you can go from one extreme to another. Sometimes you want to be dominant, and sometimes you want to be dominated. It is important for your lovers to be able to ride your waves and learn what is needed from them at any given moment. Again, Mars is all about conquest. So when Mars is in the 4H in particular, you want to be able to be the leader in your home, but you also want someone who can take the reins when necessary. Again, this can be a difficult balance to strike within your sexual relationships because people may not understand the method behind the madness, typically because there really isn’t a method…it’s just kind of madness AND THAT’S OKAY!

Because Mars is so uncomfortable here, it is imperative for you to be able to channel your energy in creative ways or you can fall victim to your own emotional tirades. You want a clear line of communication with anyone you are interested with and they absolutely need to have some emotional intelligence or else they will drown in your water. You don’t want to suffocate your lovers with so much emotional intensity, that you both are unable to remain somewhat grounded in the chaos. You of all people understand just how powerful emotions and sex can be together, so be careful to use it wisely!!! When done right, you can have anyone wrapped around your finger.

Mars in Gemini or Mars in the 3rd House

“Talk is cheap my darling, when you’re feeling right at home. I wanna make you move with confidence. I want to be with you alone” Talk is Cheap by Chet Faker

If you have Mars in Gemini or Mars in the 3rd House, then you are all about an intellectual connection when it comes to your sexual language. You want to catch viiibbbeezzz. You want to be razzle-dazzled with the lingo. You want someone hip, cool, in the know…because, well, you’re hip, cool & in the know, y’know? It’s only fitting that your partner be the same. You, of all placements, may truly crave “your other half”. And I know, I know, we live in a world now, where people are saying “you are a whole person and you’re looking for another whole person yadayadayada…”, but you’re a TWIN. You want to be able to connect with someone as if you share the same brain, the same thoughts, the same…everything. This isn’t to say that you’re not sexual…you just enjoy mental jousting for foreplay. Think of how beautiful the dance between two evenly matched fencing partners is– the ebb and flow of tension – playing both parts of the aggressor and the defender– gliding almost effortlessly with a weapon in hand. It’s like the tango…but with swords. That’s how you envision your love. Beautiful art, yet dangerous. You may not be the most sensual lover at first, but in time you will certainly warm up. Why? Because at the very least, you are a curious partner! You. Want. To. Explore. You may be the type of lover to want to try almost anything once. You want to be surprised. You don’t want your bedroom to be boring. You resent repetitiveness and you welcome new experiences. You may even fall into the “switch my wig, make ‘em feel like he cheating” category. You like to switch up your look, your style…sexual positions (lol). This can even translate into role play! (Especially teacher/student).

I cannot express to you enough how much learning from your partner turns you on. You love asking questions & consider getting to know someone a conquest. The more difficult the puzzle, the more you yearn to solve it and this type of stimulation oozes over into your sexual pleasure. You’re curious to know what your lover’s love. You can have an objective perception of sex, because you aren’t the most naturally emotional person, so you can look at the love making process as getting to know every nook and cranny of a partner’s body– learning what makes them tick & “ick”. You become more emotionally open with a partner, the more confident that you are that you know them. You like learning, but you don’t like unpleasant surprises. This may be counter intuitive, but I find that after you go through your “lemme try any & everything era”, you will genuinely enjoy one partner. It will make you feel secure and like you have that missing piece in life. You don’t come across as the most committal type, but when you do commit, you commit fr fr, you just need a certain level of freedom in life to continue to expand your horizons far past the mundane in life.

Another element you may add to your sexual reservoir is……drugs. “DON’T DO DRUGS, KIDS & STAY IN SCHOOL”...alright, there is my disclaimer. Now back to what I was saying, you may be curious to try mind-expanding drugs & smex. Because you can be so cerebral, drugs like ecstacy can help you actually feel your body. The tingle will start from your subconscious mind, and venture into your conscious body, possibly making love-making a more pleasurable experience. If this doesn’t interest you, don’t worry, no pressure! Just making a note that this placement is more likely to think outside of the box when it comes to making their sex lives thrilling and exciting! Not saying that vanilla sex is boring…just saying in general. You do you!

Overall, this is a curious placement. It’s a fun placement, but it can be an extremely flighty placement in the beginning. Don’t let your fear of getting stuck, stop you from finding a true partner that you can really see the world with. You can find that “other half”, that “twin soul” that really knows how to light a fire in you and warm your cold cold cold gemini heart. In your moments of passion, you will prefer to keep things fun and light. Only when someone truly captures your mind, can they capture your body and soul! SEXYYYYYY!!!!

Mars in Taurus or Mars in the 2nd House

“People stop to ask me, how do you please your man? Take it from the black sheep baby, any way I can. Sometimes it’s with fire and sometimes, with ice…Just don’t get it twisted, his body’s gunna pay the price.”

- Rock My Boy’s Body by Joseph Stephens

If you have Mars in Taurus or Mars in the 2nd House your sexual language is about sensuality, sexuality, & seduction. You believe in making love an all encompassing experience and you will stop at nothing to make sure your partners have an all exclusive pass to your BO-DAY. IF it is earned. Because Taurus is naturally slow moving energy, you may be slow to open up. As I’ve studied astrology for years now…I’ve come to realize that Taurus energy is just as private and cautious and it’s opposite sign, Scorpio. If you have this placement, you feel the need to study your lovers and you wait and wait and wait and wait and wait before you make your move. But if you are able to wrap them in your warm embrace…you won’t want to let go and they won’t want you to either.

Like Leo, when it comes to your sexual language, you believe in putting on a show. But your show is subtle, quaint and slow burning. You will have the candles burning, the scented lotion and fresh out the shower smell, you will have the most luxurious sheets on the most comfortable mattress. You don’t believe in cutting corners when it comes to your comfort and whoever is lucky enough to wind up in your bed, simply gets to enjoy how you live your life. I could bet you have an impeccable taste in music and truly know how to set the tone when it comes to seduction. As stated before, you are able to create a world of pure pleasure for those you love and make them spell-bound to you, because chances are, they haven’t been able to match with a sexual partner who cares so much about the details of ALL 6 senses. (I’m including intuition because, y’know, I’m a tarot and an astrology girlie.) For example, I dated this guy with heavy taurus placements a few years ago. I very much remember and very much miss this awesome TV room that he made for himself. Instead of having a regular degular couch, he had a couch that was also a bed. It wasn’t a couch that converted into a bed….it was just a couch that had a bed in it…and massive 70 inch television mounted on the wall. When I TELL you, I wanted to marry that man because….UGH!!! I was so comfortable! I could melt into the floor when I was with him. And I have YET to be with anyone who has a room set up quite like that. The feeling has stayed with me long after we have been together. THAT is what I mean by the power of Mars in Taurus. It lingers when you’re done!

On the other side, you of all signs, can be extremely jealous and possessive over your sexual partners. You DO NOT LIKE TO SHARE. AT. ALL. The 2nd House is all about owning and possessions and you may take this mindset with you into your romantic relationships. To the right person and in a healthy way, this can be enduring and make your partner feel safe and secure in your presence. In turn, you also want to know that your partner is crazy about you and cares deeply about your well-being. Again, in a healthy dynamic, a little jealousy and possessivness isn’t bad. It can show that someone does have an interest in you and takes pride in the fact that they are able to claim you as their own. This is just something to be mindful of in this placement, because if underdeveloped, it can lead to issues of selfishness & strong resistance to allow your partner’s freedom. Of course this can bleed over into the bedroom as well. You don’t want to get so focused on your own comfort that you end up putting your partner into a routine that they no longer enjoy. Your favorite position may not be their favorite positive. It can feel like eating lobster every single day. Like, yeah, Lobster is great day 1, maybe even day 2, but by day 5….yuck. Depending on other placements in your chart, you may attract partners who are very much like you, in the sense they prefer routine, OR you may attract partners who are so wild and out of the box, it forces you out of your comfort zone. All I can do is say embrace whatever floats your boat.

There is no doubt that you are one of the most sexual, sensual and passionate lovers of the zodiac. Your innate knowledge of pleasure makes you an expert in the bedroom and you can be hard to beat. Although it may take you a while to warm up, either physically or emotionally, you eventually show your partners that it is absolutely worth the wait! Because you tend to be safe and secure in yourself (the 2nd house rules self esteem) you share that safety and extend your protection to those you love the most. Your sexual language is unforgettable. You know how to love someone head to toe! WOOOOO!!!

Mars in Aries or Mars in the 1st House

“Dollhouse, dressed up, perfect messed up, Torture me to sleep, paint the air I breathe. Fishbowl, chokehold, dirty water, I’m cold. Dirty as can be, have your way with me.” Dollhouse (with Lily Rose Depp) by The Weeknd

If you have Mars in Aries or Mars in the 1st House, your sexual language is intense & powerful. You have a way of pulling people into your orbit just by being your unapologetic self! The force is with you! Best believe! And people feel it. You get what you want and you want what you get and you have a way of luring in your prospective sexual partner by projecting your lust onto them– so much so they feel it when they walk by you. Much like your sister, the Mars ruled Scorpio, there is a carnal desire that surrounds you. It’s magnetic. It’s magnificent. And it’s very fleeting.

When it comes to your bedroom pleasures, you can be a pioneer of the “Wham! Bam! Thank you ma’am or…sir” (not as cute of a rhyme) mindset. You may have a habit of treating your lovers like conquest– wanting to overpower them and wrap them up in your passionate fantasies. You deeply enjoy power play in your sex life. Yes, you could easily be the dominant one in your relationships, BUT you could also seek refuge in being submissive to your partner. How? I know it seems contradictory. But chances are, with this placement (unless it’s in a water sign in your first house) you are more than likely the boss and the leader in your everyday life…so when it comes to sex, you may want to just “relax” and let your partner do all the hard work for once. If that’s the case, you may be a bit of a brat in the bedroom because you still like to challenge your partner for shizz & giggles, but you are certainly fun and definitely unforgettable.

Your sex language is raw and real. You don’t like to hold back your passion and you appreciate a partner who can match your enthusiasm in the bedroom. You love the runner chaser dynamic, and again, you can easily play both parts. You are strong and competitive and don’t like to lose the interest of your lovers, even though you can get bored pretty easily. You may prefer quickies over long drawn up love sessions, but that doesn’t mean you don’t like to indulge your sinuses from time to time– you’re just not one of the most lovey dovey of the zodiac and prefer loud, wild, hot, steamy sex opposed to soft caresses and whispers of sweet nothings. You may also be a person who uses sexy time to advance a certain agenda. You could use sex as a tool of manipulation to get what you want. That may seem extreme, but think about a stripper using her sensuality as a means to make money so she can pay her way through law school. THAT’S what I mean. Because you may not be so shy about your sex appeal, if used correctly, it can be your weapon of choice when it comes to getting what you want from someone.

Passion matters to you more than most. You would prefer a risky lover than a predictable one. You also may be a fan of the ole’ break up to make-up trope. Make-up sex is always better. And you don’t mind starting a fight in the streets, simply to uh…you know…end it….in the sheets…..if you catch my drift. You aren’t one for subtleties. You are probably one of the most straightforward and upfront people in the world and you may play shy, but once you allow a person to get to know you, you don’t hold anything back. Because you are a cardinal energy, you always have a childlike flair to you! You keep things interesting and youthful. You’re not afraid to cross boundaries and push the limits of yourself & your partner in the midst of a sexual act. You really may think that sex is something that can be “won”. You want to be the best. You want to be the one that lovers can’t get enough of. You don’t appreciate being compared to others and honestly hear partners talking about their past as if it was some sort of challenge. You definitely have a jealous and possessive streak, but like I always say, when this is a healed energy it can be enduring to the right partner. As long as it’s not obsessive and unhealthy, you can provide comfort to your lovers that you are there for them and only them. You expect loyalty in return, of course, but you don’t mind protecting and defending what you see as your own. Your love is real. Your love is honest. Your love is young and wild and free!

[nocturnalcharm]

Faking It (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

𐙚 prompt: charles forces you and logan to do a mission together in order to help you bond. 𐙚 cw: enemies to lovers, one bed trope, if this does well i’ll do a part 2 w smut ;) cussing, 𐙚 a/n:  thanks to everyone who's sent me req's! this wasnt a req but id already started it haha if youve sent a req ill try to get to it asap.... also so many ppl wanted to be added to a taglist but for the nsfw alphabet post i dont think it tagged like half the ppl?? so im sorry if u dont get tagged, im trying to fix it :)

18+ blog!! you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, do not proceed.

“Professor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“(Y/N), it’s not me you should be apologizing to. It’s your team. That’s who you both let down.” He eyes flick between you and Logan.

“I’ll go apologize to them now.” You turn to leave.

“You too Logan.” Charles says.

On this latest mission, you needed to sneak into a factory and take down all of the enemies— But you and Logan were arguing so loudly, you alerted all of the rivals, turning a few quick sneak attacks into full blown fights. No one was badly injured but you still felt horrible about it.

“This is all your fault.” You mumbled, just loud enough for Logan to hear.

“My fault? You’re kidding.” He huffs.

“Shut up.” You walk ahead of him, on the way to the common room to see your team.

Everyone was sitting there, talking amongst themselves. Once you and Logan entered, they all stopped their conversations and looked at you.

“Guys. I am so sorry about this mission.”

“I’m sorry, extremely sorry, and I apologize for my behavior.” Logan mocked your expression of regret.

“You are such a child, Logan! I’m trying to apologize!” You raised your voice.

“I am too!”

“Can you two just stop?” Hank stood up, silencing you both. “Your attitudes have been getting in the way of every mission. If you guys can’t get along then maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh..” You didn’t know how to respond. You couldn’t believe you let your dislike for Logan get in the way of your job, so much that they thought you shouldn’t be an X-Man anymore.

They all left the room, leaving just you and Logan to culminate in your thoughts.

“I think it’s pretty obvious we’re not going to get along any time soon.” He broke the silence.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, whatever you say.” He walked out, as you sat in the empty room.

The next day, Xavier called you and Logan into his office yet again. You were concerned, worried he might be kicking you off the team. But instead, he said he had a mission for you two.

“I need you to pose as a couple. You’ll be going to an upscale hotel in Manhattan. It’s a cover for a drug smuggling ring. You two will stay as guests in order to collect information. I need everyone that is there, guests and workers alike, to think you two are madly in love. We don’t know who could be involved, so we can’t have them think anything suspicious.”

“Professor, is that the best idea? We just blew the last mission because we couldn’t stop arguing.”

“If you two fail this mission, I will have no choice but to replace both of you. You are amazing at what you do, but your arguing affects everyone. Not just yourselves.”

“Okay. We won’t let you down.” Logan speaks up.

***

The trip to the hotel was long and frustrating. You two couldn’t agree on anything the entire time. You criticized his driving, he criticized what you put on the radio, and how loud it was. You called him an old man, which just resulted in the radio being turned off and continuing the last hour drive there in silence.

When you arrived, it was late afternoon. Logan, pretending to be your fiance, grabbed all the bags by himself and walked inside. The hotel was huge. It was upscale, classy. So fancy you were afraid to touch anything, in fear it might break.

“Hi! Checking in for Anderson.” He greeted the front desk clerk, giving his forged name. He dropped the bags on the floor and you wrapped yourself around his now-free arm, squeezing it.

“Hello, Mr. Anderson.” She smiled back, “Let’s see. You had the penthouse, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“We’re celebrating our engagement!” You beamed, holding out your hand, showing off your fake engagement ring.

“That’s lovely. Congratulations! We’ll have a bottle of champagne in your room for celebration.”

“Thank you so much!” You squeaked.

He finished the check-in process, then you headed to the top floor.

The penthouse was absolutely gorgeous. It was huge, the size of a decent apartment. Just like the lobby, you were afraid to break something.

“Wow.. This is amazing. Only time I’ll ever get to stay in a penthouse and it’s with you.” You said, as he shut the door.

“I was just thinking the same thing. Now, c’mon we gotta go to the pool. Get changed.” He handed you your bag.

You opened it, pulling out your bikini. It was the only one you had, admittedly from a few years ago. You didn’t have time anymore to relax by a pool or go swimming in the ocean, so this swimsuit had to do. It was a simple black string bikini.

You went inside the bathroom to change. Once you had your swimsuit on, you felt a little self conscious at the amount of skin showing, but figured it’d help with the whole ‘can’t keep your hands off your new fiance’ vibe you and Logan needed to exude for this mission.

You walked out of the bathroom, faking confidence you didn’t have. Logan had taken the opportunity to just change in the living space since he was alone. He was wearing black swim trunks. It was funny, it looked like you two had matched on purpose.

“Wow.” He said quietly, clearing his throat.

“What? You like what you see?” You joked at his clear uncomfortableness with seeing you in such little clothing.

“Whatever, let’s just go.” He spat, grabbing two towels, the key, and exiting the room.

The second you were out the door, you both had big smiles on your face. His arm was around you, holding your side as you headed to the pool.

It wasn’t too busy, just a few kids with their parents, and a bartender at the outdoor bar. You told him you wanted a drink, so that’s where you headed first.

“Hey, can I get two Mojitos?” Logan asked, handing him the room key “And can you just charge it to our room?”

“Of course,” He started working on the drinks immediately, while you two sat and people-watched. He finished the drinks, and gave you them and the room key back.

You said thank you as you walked off, hoping Logan would just follow. There was a small hot tub that was empty, so that’s where you went. You stepped in carefully, afraid of slipping, and sat down in the warm water.

“Really?” Logan whispered, a fake smile still adorned on his face.

“This is what couples do, Logan. And we’re a couple for this weekend. So sit down and act like you love me, sweetie.” Your grin was starting to hurt your cheeks.

He sat down across from you, and you mentally rolled your eyes. You got up, and repositioned yourself, sitting in his lap, “What part of ‘act like you love me’ are you not getting?” 

He was frozen for a moment, caught off guard but quickly acted like he was happy to have you there, to not draw suspicion. You both took sips of your drink, as you continued to nonchalantly looked around.

You two stayed at the pool for awhile, taking mental notes of the guests and employees you saw. Honestly, this hotel didn’t seem too strange. But Xavier said it was a front so you guessed that’s why it seemed so normal, for their cover.

Once your drinks were empty, and the sun had started to go down, you both decided to head back up to the room. He got out drying himself off before wrapping you up in your towel. He picked you up and carried you bridal-style to the penthouse.

“Logan!”

“What? Just acting like I love you.” He smirked.

Once inside the room, he set you down. “I’m gonna go shower.” You stated, not really knowing what to do. 

He just nodded, walking off to the kitchenette. You grabbed your bag and headed to the bathroom.

***

You mentally cursed yourself as you scrambled through your bag, searching for a pair of pajama shorts you thought you packed, but they were nowhere to be found. 

“This cannot be real.” You whispered. The only other clothes you brought were jean shorts, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sleep in those.

You pulled out your oversized sleepshirt, putting it on. The hem landed right above the middle of your thigh. It was a little shorter than the length of a nightgown, so you just hoped he wouldn’t notice. You slipped on a pair of panties, snatched up your things, and exited the bathroom.

You immediately bumped into Logan, who was standing right outside the door.

“What the fuck?” You raised your voice, annoyed. “Why are you right outside the door?”

“I was about to knock. You’ve been in there for over an hour.”

“It’s all yours!” You sassed.

You walked over to the small kitchen, and see he had already opened up the champagne. You had a glass as you sat on a barstool, writing down some notes about the people you’d observed earlier. Pouring yourself another glass, you headed over to the bed.

Just as you made yourself comfortable, Logan came out of the washroom, in just a towel. You stared at his wet torso for a moment, hypnotized.

“My eyes are up here.” He laughed.

You looked up, embarrassed.

“Forgot my clothes. Hey, wait, why are you in the bed?”

“…Because I’m the girl?”

“You're also the short one. I can’t fit on that couch.”

“Oh, c’mon. It’s a big bed. We can both fit just fine. Unless you’re nervous. Never slept with a girl before, Lo?”

He sighed, clearly not wanting to argue, before taking his clothes and escaping back to the bathroom. You silently celebrated your victory.

He came out a few moments later, turning off the lights, sliding under the blankets and getting comfortable. You both ended up facing the same direction. If he was any closer, he’d be the big spoon, but there was a few inches separating you.

You adjusted your body, and accidentally felt your ass rub against him. You went rigid from humiliation, before scooting away slightly, ignoring it since he didn’t say anything.

You tried to fall asleep, but it was difficult, for many reasons. One, you’re not used to having someone else in your bed. Two, he was breathing heavily. Three, you couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy he was.

Of course, you knew Logan was attractive, you’d thought that since the moment you first saw him. But today, probably because of the faux-gagement, the touching, the flirting, you saw him differently. He was still getting on your nerves, but the flames between you two… His body… It was unlike before.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You twiddled your feet, moving around your body nervously, before unintentionally grazing your ass against his crotch again.

“Y’know, if you keep rubbing your ass against my dick, I’m gonna do something about it.” His words sounded gruff in your ear, but they gave you butterflies.

“Maybe that’s what I want.” 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

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[reidrum]

you say ‘what a mind’ | s.r.

A/N: she’s back and with fluff! (?) exams were really putting me through the ringer but i missed posting so i fixed up this draft i had, i hope you enjoy :D ive been listening to sabrina 25/8 since she dropped so hopefully song inspired fics coming soon 🤞🏽

summary: you get really excited about something new you learned and spencer gets really excited about you

wc: a short n sweet 1k

cw: none, tooth rotting fluff

_______________________________________________

With Spencer's extensive knowledge of just about everything, you had assumed that there wasn’t much you contribute to his abundant learning.

You maybe weren’t three-PhD’s smart, but you were smart, averagely speaking. But you knew Spencer was smart, and truth be told it intimidated you. He never made you feel bad about not knowing something, ever. Anytime he gets to talk to you about anything his face lights up like the night sky.

There was, however, one time you had come home all excited to explain a concept from class that finally clicked for you. And the first person you wanted to tell was Spencer.

He watched you bound up to him with a spring in your step, bright eyed and wide cheeks as you told him, “I have to tell you about what I learned about today, it finally made sense to me. Like it felt like a real life light bulb final puzzle piece fitting type moment!”

He smiled warmly down at your eager face, “Alright angel, lay it on me.”

“Okay, I know it’s a little stupid it’s taken me this long to get it, but it’s—“

The call of your name sternly yet fondly falling from Spencer’s lips interrupts your self deprecating preamble, “Hey, we don’t do that, remember? We talked about this.”

Your rants almost always started with some self deprecating remarks, and he would always frown and try to interject and shut them down, to which you’d wave him off under the guise of, “If I stop, I’ll forget!” You were smart, but stubborn to a fault. He loved you for it, but it was hard for him to see you not understand the value you held, the value that your voice and your words and your opinions held. The value that he knew with all certainty you possessed.

A sheepish blush rises on your cheeks as you mumble, “Sorry.”

His fingers trickle closer to yours and wrap around them firmly, bringing you to sit on the couch next to him as he pulls your legs over to rest on his.

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” he says saccharinely, “We’re working on being nicer to ourselves right?”

You nod, he smiles softly back at you and continues, “Okay, tell me what you learned today.”

You start on your long explanation of the inner workings of the nervous system and its intricacies, explaining details and anecdotes that really showcase the inner workings of how your mind processes information.

Spencer can’t help but stare at you in deep fascination, complete with an awestruck smile and glimmering eyes.

He’s met hundreds of scientists, specialists, celebrities even, and listen to them talk about their research in extensive detail and with expansive knowledge. Hell, he’s had to do it himself with his three doctorates.

But as he sits in front of you, watching the person he’s most fond of on this planet watch you talk with so much speed, conviction, passion, with your hands move with purpose and excitement, he truly swears he has never been more in love with you than that moment.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask cautiously.

“You,” he moves closer, “Are so intelligent, did you know that?”

“Spencer, I’m not in the mood for jokes plea—“

“No, my love. You are brilliant,” he moves closer to be an inch away from you, placing his hands on your cheeks, “The way you process information is fascinating. When I watch you explain things to me I can see you organize it in your pretty head. It is actually mesmerizing watching you absorb knowledge the way you do. You’re like, a beautiful puzzle all undone, but by the forces of nature you’re able to put yourself together and bear the finished product to me, to anyone.”

Your eyes tear up, “Spence…what the fuck.”

He chuckles softly, “I mean it,” he holds you firmly, planting you in the roots of his belief, “What a mind you have, darling.”

It’s enough to make you tuck your head into his chest, obstructing his view from your imminent tearfall.

“You can’t just say things like that.” you mumble against the soft fabric of his shirt.

Spencer instinctively wraps his arm around your torso, letting the other hand take purchase in your hair, gently stroking it down, “Why not?” He speaks softly.

“Because…I might think you're like, in love with me or something.” You joke.

His laugh rumbles through his chest and into your rested head, “Would that be so bad?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s going to be another whole moon cycle before I have another a-ha moment like this again. I’ll have nothing to impress you with.”

Spencer smiles and sighs, squeezing you tighter against him, “You always impress me.”

You groan, “Ugh, you don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“You do know that you’re really smart, right?” you open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off, “You always underestimate yourself, but you’re really one of the smartest people I know. And I know a lot of smart people.”

A deep sigh leaves you, but he continues, “And you don’t have to believe me. I’ll believe it enough for the both of us. You and your brain are remarkable, so when you come to me with your a-ha moments thinking I’ll be impressed with your spark of knowledge, just know that I am impressed with you, but it’s more because I get to see you realize just how capable you are yourself.”

The calming motion of his fingers through your hair tether you back to this world, your insides fluttering about like butterflies in an open field. It was hard not to believe his words when Spencer was always so kind to you. It was always so easy for you to play it off like you didn’t deserve it.

But Spencer knew wholeheartedly that you did deserve it, that you were even entitled to it. And he’d spend the rest of his life reminding you. That, you knew for a fact.

“I love you,” you say softly, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me angel, I love you too.” He mumbles in your head, his hand trailing down your sides in comfort.

[flowersforjude]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐚 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader 

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | When Cregan Stark begins his search for a wife, some hidden feelings come to light.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 6,484(Idk what came over me okay!?)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Mature Content-Explicit Descriptions Of Sex | Friends to lovers, Longing and pining, Love confessions, Possessive!Cregan, Smut: Piv, Oral(fem receiving), Clit biting, Hair pulling, Multiple orgasms, Biting/bruising(VERY MILD), Wife/marriage kink, Size difference. 

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I did not anticipate Cregan Stark pulling me out of my writing slump. But everyone say thank you Cregan! For those of you waiting for it, Hea Mēre is still coming. I just wanted to post something since I haven’t put any new works out here lately. Hea Mēre is coming SOON, though, I promise.

masterlist

Word had spread that the Warden of the North was in need of a wife. And so the great hall of Winterfell was now a symphony of merry music and proud spoken promises. Nearly every great house in the north flocked to Winterfell’s gates one after the other. Some lords arrived with nearly their whole households in tow. Some only brought their daughters. 

Cregan, ever the loyal man, had welcomed them to his home as any good liege lord would. Demanding a feast be thrown in the honor of northern unity. 

The revels had been at their height for hours now, and you took in as much as you could handle. As the night wore on, though, you found a need for respite. The boisterous laughter and clambering of drunk men was a muffled sound to your ears now. Out here in the chilly corridors, only the howling wind could truly be heard. 

It had been close to a year since Cregan took the seat of his late father. Since then, the north has rallied behind him. Came to pledge their words of fealty and wish their lord prosperity. And now they came again to offer him their daughters, sisters, and nieces. You knew he would take a wife at some point—some point very soon. And because he was a northman through and through, he would marry a northern woman. One from a great house with a long history and ample influence. 

For some reason, all your preparation for this moment had done nothing to aid you when it actually came.

The wind swirled around you like a restless spirit, forcing you to wrap your arms around yourself to stave off the chill. You could just go back inside, but all the warmth in the world could not tempt you. Witnessing all the eligible ladies of the north look upon Cregan with hungry and hopeful eyes was an unnecessary cruelty you didn’t wish on yourself. It wasn’t as though you could fault them for it. He was Lord of Winterfell, and as such, he was obligated to take a wife. What woman wouldn’t want that to be them? 

You yourself had yearned for it for as long as you could recall. Practically growing up alongside him, youthful companionship had reformed as enrapturing affection. There was not a day where you did not cross paths with him, often purposely carving out time to spend together. You were always available to each other; living within the same keep had made it quite impossible to be apart. 

Your father was Master of Arms; being a second son from house Cerwyn, he was granted knighthood in his youth. The late Lord Rickon Stark had appointed him as Master of Arms a handful of years before you were born. 

Your father had trained Cregan as a boy. The memory of first meeting him was still clear as glass even after all these years. 

The snow was still cool against your cheeks as you sat atop a railing, observing your father working with the boys during one particular day. You had snuck away from your Septa some time ago, preferring the chilled air outside to the stuffy heat indoors. That, and your hands ached from all the needlework you’d been made to practice. 

Cregan had caught sight of you almost immediately. Smirking at your attempt to conceal yourself from searching eyes. You smiled back at him, pressing a small finger to your lips silently, asking him to keep your secret. 

And he did. He said nothing to your father during the training session. Pretending you weren’t there at all. It wasn’t until your father caught you himself that you were sent back inside with clear instructions to apologize to your Septa for running off. 

It was an act of fate that later that day you and Cregan crossed paths in one of the winding halls of Winterfell. In a second long bout of courage, you stopped him to say a proper thank you for not ratting you out. 

The rest was simply history. 

“I was wondering where you’d run off to.” The low rumble of a voice invaded your troubled thoughts. 

The sound of footsteps thudded against the old wood. You turned to see Cregan rounding the corner, his slate eyes resting on you. The flickering torchlight caught the contours of his face, and for a moment, the weight of his presence made your heart race.

“Why are you all the way out here?” He asked, his deep candace rolling over you like thunder. 

“I just needed some air.” You answered, hoping he’d deem it a suitable reply. “The festivities got a bit overwhelming.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent a thrill of familiar fondness down your spine. “Overwhelming is one way to put it. I can hardly hear myself think in there.” He stepped closer, the warmth of his body casting like a shield against the cold. “But I am glad I’ve found you.”

You nodded, not catching the implicating tone in his voice. You dropped your gaze to the frost-kissed ground. “I suppose everyone is eager to make an impression tonight. Especially the ladies.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, laced with a bitterness that you were not used to hearing from your own voice. 

He noted the sour tone in your words. He himself admitted to being caught offhand at the unexpected abundance of marriage proposals. When he had alluded to wanting to look for a wife, he hadn’t anticipated this. Truthfully, the only woman he would want to wed was standing beside him. In the years of closeness with you, you had unknowingly taken his heart right from him. He recognized the fact that he hadn’t owned his heart for some time now. He had given it to you long before he even realized it. 

If he was certain you would accept, he’d have asked your hand in marriage instead of entertaining half the northern population.

“Eager indeed.” He replied, his tone shifting to something more serious. “It is all rather…overwhelming.” He sighed, echoing your words from before. 

You disliked seeing him so burdened. In the months since he took the role of Warden, though, that oppressed look marred his handsome features far too frequently for your liking. 

“You need not rush into anything.” You consoled, wanting to take his strains and carry them yourself.

He grunted, resting his hands over the pommel of Ice. The great longsword hanging at his side. “Would you have me keep my people in suspense?”

“I would rather you keep them waiting than to risk your own happiness.” You said, your voice softer now, carrying the weight of your concern. Sometimes it felt foolish to worry over him so much, but you supposed that was a condition of loving someone.

“What do you think would make me happy?” The question wasn’t unexpected; he oftentimes sought out your advice just as you would with him. But to speak with him of his potential nuptials felt like a shard of ice was lodged in your chest. 

You met his eyes; gone from the silver shine was the frustration replaced with a sort of keenness to know your thoughts. Most would say his eyes were two wild winter storms, and they could be if he was so inclined. But you had always seen them as bright stars hanging high in the sky. Shining down with their silver light that pulled you in and stole your breath. 

“I would say marriage to someone who could honor and carry on the traditions of your family.” You replied, a peak of the true depths of your devotion seeping into your words. “A lady that would care for you, and not simply the title that came with you.” 

“Someone like you, perhaps?” Cregan suggested a teasing lilt in his voice, but there was no mistaking the tinge of sincerity. He stepped closer then, forcing you to twist your position to where your back was against the railing. His warmth clouded your senses for a moment, causing you to lose track of your thoughts. 

“You jest.” You retort, a nervous laugh bubbling from your lips. “This is serious, Cregan.” 

His expression shifted, a spark of intensity igniting in his eyes. “I am being serious.” He countered, an unusual tension crackling in the cold air. There was something new swimming in his eyes, firm but soft the longer he looked at you. “You’ve always been more to me than just a companion or a friend. You must know that.” 

A scoff sounded from you. “Must I?” You echoed incredulously, your heart pounding in your chest. The chilly air felt electric, humming with unspoken words and emotions that had been buried for too long. 

He pressed closer, his presence mudding your resolve. “Yes,” he insisted. “Every time I look at you, all I can think about is how much I crave you by my side above all else.” His voice was low and earnest, not a hint of deception to be found. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your lips parting to take in a shaky breath. “I am not a woman that could ever be considered as your wife.” The words stung as they left your lips, trembling on their descent. He was alluding to everything you had secretly hoped for, yet the reality of it felt like a dream you weren’t sure you could grasp. “I am the daughter of a second son. I hold no titles, no grand connections. And certainly-”

Cregan silenced you with a searing kiss. One that was all flames and fervor, but slow enough to feel every movement of his mouth molding over yours. A soft gasp slipped past you, and he drank it in, claiming it for himself. 

Your hands hung by your sides for a moment before your body caught up with your mind. But once his solid arms coiled themselves around your hips, something in you snapped in place finally. Hands went to his shoulders, gripping onto the thick fur of his cloak. He pulled you in, your back coming off the railing, pressing you to him so no space was between you. 

Your lips struggled to match his pace, but it was not for lack of trying. All these years of tampered emotions and repressed desires made everything blur together. The only tangible thing to be felt was Cregan. He held you with the utmost gentleness, his hands falling along your curves but never drifting too far or squeezing too tightly. 

The yearning threatened to spill over. Bubbling within the both of you and being tended higher and higher with every slide of your lips against each other. You knew better than anyone that he had a roughness about him. And you wanted to coax it out; you wanted him. 

His teeth nipped your bottom lip as he walked you backwards. Pressing you into a wooden pillar, he brought you flush against him. Though, through all the furs and layers of clothing, there was nothing to be felt. You could sense his hunger in the subtle low noises in the back of his throat and the way his touch grew feverish. 

When he left your mouth to trail his lips along your jaw and down your neck, you took the opportunity to reign in your self-control. When he hitched one of your legs around his hips, though, you could feel your composure slipping away. The line of propriety daring you to cross it as his fingers kneaded into the pliant flesh of your thigh. 

“Cregan.” You sighed as he kissed a line across your jaw. There were things you wanted to say. Things you needed to speak about. But your desire-addled mind couldn’t bring forth a single syllable. 

A loud roar of laughter sounded from the great hall, pulling you both back to the present. Cregan huffs into the crook of your neck, the hot puff of his breath sending goosebumps along your spine. 

He dropped your leg but kept his hold on your waist. “I will not take you for the first time in my halls where anyone could see.” Everything inside him screamed at him to continue, to hike up your skirts and make you his once and for all. But he would not have the first time muddied with the risk of prying eyes. He would have you, but only somewhere safe, warm, and private. 

“If this is what you want,” Cregan murmured. “I would have you in my chambers, though; if you wish to not continue, I will leave at once.”

A huff of laughter escaped you, eyes meeting his as your hands slid from his shoulders to his chest. “I have never wanted anything more than you for as long as I can recall.”

With your words solidifying what you both wanted, he pressed another quick kiss to your lips. Taking your hand in his, you made the all too familiar walk to his chambers. 

You had some time to think while trending through the halls. Your mind was made up, resolved, and set in stone, but nerves prickled at your skin. Not for the act itself really, but the knowledge it would be with Cregan. After all this time and all the wondering, it was finally happening. You hadn’t quite wrapped your head around it yet. 

This part of the keep was dead silent, far away enough from the great hall that the raucous of the gathering was a distant memory. The doors to his chambers were tall, heavy oak, crafted from large stocks of trees from the Wolfswood. As Cregan pushed them open, the warmth from inside his rooms wafted out to greet you. 

Passing through the threshold, you felt the shift of everything. Nothing would be the same after tonight. “What happens afterwards?” You question, words leaving your lips in a whisper as his makes an expedition across your jaw. You didn’t want to doubt him, but all of this felt like a dream moving so quickly you couldn’t discern if anything was real. 

“I will make you mine tonight.” He murmured, one arm going around your waist. “And you make me yours. Then we will be wed before the Weirwood tree.” 

“You would make me your wife?” You asked softly, watching as his face became puzzled. 

“Were my words not convincing enough?” A smile pulled on his lips, though he did not let it overtake his expression. He hummed a deep sound, lips falling here and there on your neck. 

His sugary tone thrilled you to your core. His hinting words and the press of his mouth made a surge of arousal swirl within you. “Perhaps you should just show me,” you urged. 

Not wasting another second, his arm around your waist hauled you to him. Your fingers gripping the fur of his cloak, pulling yourself as close as possible to him. Cregan’s mouth met yours frantically. His kiss was hungry, filled with a deep-seated yearning for you that he had tried to ignore. 

The heat of the room multiplied. Gone were the frozen winds from outside, a blazing inferno taking its place. That fire churned between you as he kissed you with the roughness you knew lay within him. Once again, you failed to keep up, but you were more than content to let him kiss you into a stupor. His teeth scraping the skin of your bottom lip as he worked on the clasp of your cloak. 

Letting the heavy garment fall to the floor at your feet, you shivered at the loss of its warmth. Wanting to level things out, your hands undid the fastening of his, a thrill shooting to you, noticing the eagerness in which he tossed it to the ground. 

“Cregan.” You whispered, trembling at the feeling of his hands at your back untying the laces of your dress. The material sagging around your shoulders. Grey stars met your eyes, asking you if he could continue. Nodding your consent, he slid the dress down, never letting his eyes wander as the garment pooled at your feet.

Your shift was the only thing separating your nakedness from his eyes. But you couldn’t help but feel the severe imbalance between you. As he made home in your neck again, your hands went to work on the restraints of his tunic. One by one, the clasps opened for you until you pushed the clothing from his shoulders. 

He huffed out a laugh into the skin of your neck that turned into a shudder when your fingers slid under his shirt. You let your hands feel along the corded muscle of his abdomen. Years of hard training formed his body into the mountain of a man that he was now. 

You moaned outright when he bit the skin below your ear. His hands mapping out the dips of your curves. Gripping here and there with his digits, unable to help himself when feeling the heat of your skin from beneath the thin shift. 

Growing desperate, you started raising his shirt up to say you wanted it off. He untangled himself from you just enough to aid you in lifting it over his head. It joined the rest of your clothing on the floor.

Seeing what was always hidden underneath those layers of thick garments had your head spinning. He was all solid muscle and pure strength. Powerful yes, but knowing that he would never use that power against you in a way to cause harm was exhilarating. 

Not being able to help yourself, you let your fingers lightly glide over the impressive map of his stomach. He indulges you for a few moments before your nails scrape along his skin, causing a growl to rumble through his chest. Snatching up your hands, he pulled you flush against him again. He devours your mouth with uncontrolled need. Lust was all but dripping from him, but the underlying affection would not be drowned out. Cregan was a man of few words more often than not, so he preferred to show you all that you meant to him. 

Hands taking hold of your hips, he maneuvered you to his bed. His eyes shining with tenderness as you let him lay you down on the mattress. The furs covering the sheets were soft beneath you, surrounding you in a comforting embrace. Cregan stood over you for a moment before going to his knees. Spreading your legs apart, he made home between them, his shoulders coming up under your knees. 

He wanted to taste every inch of you, trail his lips and tongue along every curve and sensitive patch of skin he could find. Hands coming up to the straps of your shift, he paused to see you already shaking your head. He grinned to himself as he removed the last bit of fabric hiding you from him. Off your shoulders to reveal your breasts, down your sides to uncover your stomach, and finally letting it fall away to bare your center to him. 

“Let me taste you.” He rumbled, his voice dropping deeper than you’d ever heard it. It’s timbre shooting a buzz of delight through you. The heat in your belly grows hotter, filling you with yearning that threatens to break you. 

You nodded, feeling the warmth trickle down to your core. “Yes, please.” Those two words were all he needed—your breathy answer coaxing an unquenchable thirst within him. And he intends to drink his fill. 

He kissed his way down your body. Guaranteeing you felt every kiss pressed to your skin and every scrap of his teeth. You were growing breathless already, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. Anticipation makes your heart thud wildly inside your chest.

His lips gave attention to every plane of your body. Scorching his path from your neck to your breasts, and then to your stomach to make his way to your thighs. 

A low grumble crawled up his throat when your fingers tangled themselves in his hair. The heavy pressure of his mouth slid closer up the inside of your thigh, nipping at the skin there before going over it with his tongue. He could all but smell your arousal now this close to your center. The hunger to dive right in was almost overwhelming. The broad expanse of his shoulders pushed your legs further apart. Settling them over his back, his hand gripped the flesh of your thighs. 

As the breath caught in your throat, your stomach swirled with delicious nerves. The warm slick gathered between your thighs was a glittering treasure Cregan took for himself. A surge of self-satisfaction rippled through him. 

He takes in the wiggling of your body on his bed and hears the shaky inhales of your breath. Your thighs were twitching in his hold as he sank his teeth into the soft skin once more. You were like silk, smooth under his touch. The difference of his calloused fingers against your velvet skin was pure excellence in his eyes. 

The first kiss he gave your slit knocked the breath from your lungs. When he licked a burning stripe up your core, your hearing grew fuzzy. His movements were careful and calculated to push you to the edge of complete insanity. 

His arms around your hips went to bring you closer, a groan clawing up his throat as he pursued the pleasure of your cunt. He opened you to him with his tongue, desperate for whatever you granted him. A whine parted your lips as your hands gripped at his hair, your hips chasing the feel of his mouth without you even realizing it. 

He was nothing if not formidable, even while he lapped at your wetness like a man starved. Resting between your legs, shoulders tensed with the vigor of his movements. He was solely focused on you, moaning into your center absently like he had never tasted something so sweet. He would spend the rest of his days with his face buried in your cunt if he could. 

The heated cord within your belly continuously wound tighter and tighter with every swipe of his tongue. His mouth was ravenous, kissing and sucking with urgency, like if he didn’t make you come on his mouth, he would die.

“Cregan.” You sighed, writhing within his hold, causing his arms to grow tighter around you, locking you in place. The feeling was complete euphoria but also the sweetest torture at the same time. You yanked on the dark stands of his hair, urging him closer as if he wasn’t already practically inside you. “Please, don’t stop.” You begged, glancing down to see his starry eyes stuck on you. 

He wasn’t about to let such a saccharine request go unanswered. But he also wasn’t going to let you squirm and wiggle about as you pleased. His belly was raging with hot fire, waiting for the chance to be released. His cock strained against his trousers, aching with the need to be inside of you. But he wanted to taste you spilling on his tongue first. He kept up with his heavy strokes against your center, drawing you closer and closer to your peak. 

You were like honey on his tongue, surgery and sweet, all for him to devour. Listening to the melody of your whines and moans quickly became his favorite music. It brought him pleasure almost as much as it did you to know the ruinous state he’s gotten you in. 

Your legs began to shake around his head, small tremors of ecstasy swimming through you. Cregan raked the path from your entrance to your clit with his tongue, circling the bundle of nerves a few times before taking it in his mouth. The soft gasps of his name that came from your lips as he sucked on your pearl were maddening. It had his fingers digging harder into the pliant flesh of your thighs, surely leaving bruises he would have to kiss once this was all over. 

He was known to all as a stoic and serious man, but when he flicked his silver-hued eyes at you, they were nothing if not a flurry of affection. The sight of you on his bed breathless and lost to the pleasure he was giving you was heart-stopping. He had always thought you to be the prettiest girl he’d ever known, but now he likened you to a goddess. You had bewitched him body and soul. 

His mouth still worked over your core. Switching between dipping his tongue into your entrance and wrapping his lips around your clit. Whenever he sucked the nerves in his mouth, he was rewarded with the prettiest sound to ever grace his ears. A high-pitched whine that slowly faded to a deep sigh. 

You wanted to close your legs around his head, lock him there for the foreseeable future. But every time you moved your legs, he pried them apart, keeping you open to him so he could lavish his affection upon your cunt. His nose nudged your pearl whenever he dipped further down. You didn’t know how much more you could take. The peak was right there within your grasp; you just needed something to push you the rest of the way. 

He was unrelenting, seemingly just as obsessed with bringing you apart with his mouth. A scream ripped past your lips as Cregan took your clit back in his mouth once more. His teeth bit down on the sensitive bundle of nerves, not hard enough to break skin but just enough to shoot a spike of pleasure pain down your spine. He drew his teeth away and soothed your pearl with his tongue.

“Cregan!” You sputtered, hips lurching forward to chase his mouth. You felt as though your whole body was on fire, that any moment now you would burst into flames. Your eyes screwed shut as stars exploded behind your eyelids. He dragged his teeth over your clit again, making your grip on his hair tighten even more. If you weren’t so out of it, you would have worried about pulling his hair out completely. “Do that again.” You pleaded with a trembling breath. 

A huff of mild amusement escaped him before he was wrapping his mouth around your pearl and biting. He pulled at it with his teeth only to release it and sooth it over with his tongue. He drew whimper after whimper, moan after moan out of you. All the while, your legs shook around him with the weight of your impending release. 

“Gods, I’m close!” A pleading moan tore past your lips, brain going hazy with the mounting pleasure. Your nails dug into his scalp as the cord grew taunt. The roughness didn’t discourage him, though. It merely made him all the more determined to push you over into oblivion. 

“Please.” You spoke out into the air. A few more moments of his ministrations: bite, pull, sooth, suck. The cord snapped. A sharp gasp sounded from you as you shook like you were back in the cold winds outside. Everything spilled over; goosebumps erupted over your flesh. The heated tidal wave of your release rushing along your body. The sheer power of it having your back arching from the bed. 

It felt as if your body was humming as your peak subsided slowly. Sinking back upon the furs, you untangled your fingers from Cregan’s hair. He was still gently lapping at your wetness as you reluctantly pushed him away. He lifted his head, eyes looking upon you with such reverence. 

He kissed his way up your thighs, making sure to pay extra attention to the bruises he’d left. His lips were soft and caring on your sensitive skin. As he made his way further upwards, he pressed his face into your stomach. “I love you.” He whispered so faintly into your skin you weren’t sure if he even realized he said it. 

“What?” You gasped, going up on your elbows to look at him. Face still buried in your middle, he murmured it again. This time raising his eyes to gauge your reaction. “You do?” You mumbled, becoming flustered all over again. 

He crawled over you, covering your body beneath his burly physique as he claimed your lips. Your hand went to his cheek, tasting yourself on his tongue. “I do,” he husked. You took a moment to look at him, his eyes shining with adoration. “You still doubt my affections?” 

You’re shaking your head instantly. “No,” you protest. “I simply didn’t expect you to say that.” You were grinning like a fool, mouth curved upwards in a beaming smile. He returned it, with one albeit smaller than yours, but it was still all him. You laughed into the kiss he gave you as he situated himself back between your legs. 

“Allow me to show you then.” He spoke in a hushed voice. All you had to do was nod, and he was shucking off his breeches, kicking them from the bed. 

You couldn’t see him, but you felt him big and hard against your thigh. Nerves swirled within you—not that he would ever hurt you intentionally, but that there would be no way around it hurting. You knew he would put your well-being above all else, though. 

The barely-there smile still rested upon his face. “You’re still smiling.” You point out completely besotted with this mountain of a man. 

“Hush woman.” He let out a humming noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. It was difficult to keep up his stone-like appearance in your presence. It always had been, but with your wide eyes looking up at him still hazy with pleasure, it was increasingly harder. 

Bodies aligned and chests pressed against each other, you leaned up your lips searching for him, wanting another kiss. The kiss was as sweet as honey, soft as silk, much like you. From deep within his throat, a low rumble of approval echoed, and his eyebrows furrowed together as he returned the kiss with fervor.

You went to wrap your arms around his shoulders and found you could barely touch your hands together at the nape of his neck. Still though, it didn’t stop you from racking your nails across his skin. Hoping it would spurn him on. His cock rocked against your thigh, tip hitting your core for a split second. 

“Patience, my girl.” He warned, rough palm soothing back your hair. “Slowly, I don’t want to hurt you.” He kissed a line across your collarbone, nose skimming along your skin. You felt him slide up along your thigh, the tip nudging at your entrance again. Just that little friction had shivers racing up and down your spine. 

He canted his hips forward, pushing just slightly into your cunt. He was as big as he seemed evidently; the sting spread further as he slid in slowly. Inch by inch, with every ridge and vein feeling like it was being imprinted inside you. Once he was half way seated, you couldn’t keep quiet any longer. A faint grunt of discomfort slipped past you. Your hand gripping the nape of his neck tightly. 

He paused, looking down at you. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“Keep going. I’m alright.” You promised, loosening your hold on him. He pressed a soothing kiss to your hairline before he pressed forward again. 

Having him inside you even halfway was something you would have to get used to. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant; the stretch and sting were fading already. Once he was fully inside, the feeling of him filling you was almost overwhelming in the best ways. Cregan gave you ample time to adjust, holding himself back from rutting into you. He never wished to harm you, even if your warm tightness was the most incredible thing he’d ever felt. 

You tested your limits by rolling your hips to meet his. A hiss left the both of you as his cock slid even deeper, hitting some part of you that had you seeing stars. “Move.” You urged, back arching to press against him. 

He drew out only to snap his hips forward, driving himself back in. Taking care to be as gentle as he could, he began a harsh but deep hitting pace. He was ardent in his lovemaking, cock thrusting into you, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. He was keeping good on his promise to show you just how much he loved you. 

You wrapped a leg around his hips, his hand instantly going to hold it in place. Fingers lightly running across your skin. Your other leg spread wider for him, giving him as much room as you could to accommodate his size. A melody of whines and gasps flew from you with every thrust. Your nails running down the rippling strength of his back. 

His face was hidden in your neck, lips assaulting your skin. Bruising kisses were placed wherever he could reach. Teeth joining to nip here and there, leaving marks that you would deal with later. He pounded into you with equal fervor and tenderness. Cregan was nothing if not devoted in all things, so each thrust was measured to ensure he seated himself fully inside you every time. 

With the whole of Winterfell in the great hall or asleep, you worried not about concealing the volume of your moans. Needy whines and whimpers left you, one after the other. A particularly harsh snap of his hips had you stuttering out his name. You felt like you were being split in two, but it was the most pleasurable thing you’d ever experienced. 

The friction of your bodies sliding together was addicting. Each glide of his cock along your innerwalls drove you closer and closer to another peak. Walls tightening around him, drawing a muffled curse, he spoke into your neck. Your hands went to his hair once again, bringing his mouth to yours. You kissed him as his cock kissed your womb. Your lips molded together as he dug his fingers into the flesh of your thigh. 

You nipped at his bottom lips as he had done to you, causing a growl to rumble up his throat. There was urgency about him now, with his release building and building buzzing at the base of his spine. 

He dropped the hold on your thigh, planting his weight on his forearms by your head. Using the leverage to rut inside you at a faster and deeper pace. Intensity danced between you as his cock drove into you, seated fully inside you, then pulling out only to plunge back in. 

There was an almost divine feeling to being inside of you. As if Cregan was made for you and you were made for him. He had to wed you, had to say the vows beneath the Weirwood tree, and make you his wife. His Lady of Winterfell. 

He groaned at the thought, snatching your lips between his own for another blazing kiss. Teeth knocking together and tongues sliding over each other—this was not a romantic kiss. It was full of base needs and wants. The drive to claim you as his and never give another man the chance to see you like this. You were his. 

“Cregan please.” You pleaded into his mouth, your breath mingling together. He didn’t relent; your whispered appeal only spurred him on. He was aching and pulsing inside you. Cock thrusting so deeply, he vaguely pictured you struggling to walk in the morning. The thought sent a smug ripple down his spine. Your thighs were trembling, and with this being your first time taking him, you very likely will be sore. 

“Do you have another in you?” He huffed out the question. His release was just within his reach, but he wanted to feel you gush around him first. Have the tightness of your walls gripping him like steel as he pushes into you for the last time before spilling his seed. 

“Mhm.” You hummed around your harmony of whimpers and gasps. You rolled your hips to meet his as if to further prove what you wanted. The friction doing delicious things to the both of you. 

You’d lost count of how many times he’d sunk into you. It was too many to keep up with. But the look that glimmered in his eyes told you it wouldn’t be much longer until another rush of euphoria greeted you. 

His cock battered into you, his pace becoming faster than before. His hands moved from beside your head to grip your hips. Fingers sliding under to hold the small of your back, he lifted you slightly off the bed. The new angle had him hitting that spot within you that had you writhing up to meet him. Your senses became cloudy with nothing but the feeling of him inside breaking through. 

“That’s it, my girl.” He husked out, feeling you shudder beneath him as your cunt clamped down on his length. He kept up his pace, racing after his own peak. Lowering you back down to rest on the furs again, he groaned heavy and hot into your neck as he spilled inside of you. The warmth exploded at the base of his spine and spread. Keeping his hips moving to help you both ride out your pleasure, he thrusted into you a few more times. 

You whimpered as he withdrew from you, but he was quick to soothe you with a slow kiss to your lips. You fingers threaded through his brown tresses holding him to you. The display was all care and affection, a stark contrast to the intense moment between you just seconds ago.

When he rolled off you, he didn’t go far, his large form laying out beside you and drawing you to his side. His strong arm slung around you, locking you to his side. 

An easy silence fell over you as you both regained your senses. The aftermath of your coupling filled to tender caresses of hands over heated skin. Soft presses of his lips upon your jaw, making your head relax into the pillow. 

You weren’t aware of how much time passed before a halting thought crossed your mind. “Should I not leave?” You asked. Cregan furrowed his brows at you as if you were speaking in riddles. “There will surely be whispers if I am seen in your chambers in the morning,” you clarified. 

“Nonsense,” he dismissed. His hold on you becomes tighter and a touch more protective. “You will be my wife soon enough. Whatever any of my people have to say about it, they will do well to make sure I do not hear of it.” 

Completely smitten with him as well as his response, you choose not to argue. Much preferring to settle back into his warmth and spend the night caged within his arms.

I think this is the longest fic I have ever wrote, but I'm in love with it.

﹙taglist﹚@madame-fear

[gogogodzilla]

Leave the Light On

mike schmidt x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, continuation of this post, panty sniffing, semi-public masturbation, sex tape, consensual somnophilia part 1 ✩ part 3 ✩ main masterlist ✩ read on ao3 ✩

As soon as he awoke, he knew something had happened. His thighs and groin were covered in the sticky remnants of cum and his briefs were skewed. You’d made good on your promise, and excitement hummed under his skin at the thought. 

He was more confident that you’d taken him up on the offer when he looked in the mirror and saw the hickies coating his neck and chest. His eyes widened and his cheeks flushed as he took in the marks. 

He slid on the jeans you had set neatly on the edge of his bed and opted for a hoodie that would cover most of the marks you’d left. He definitely didn’t need Abby asking how he got them. 

His ears perked up at the sound of you coming in through the front door accompanied by hurried footsteps. Abby was talking excitedly about something and you commented here or there. 

He’d entered the kitchen, and your eyes lit up at his appearance. You gave him a devilish grin as you sat at the kitchen table, listening to Abby as she talked. 

The rest of the evening was spent with lingering glances and fleeting touches. He wanted to ruin you as soon as the two of you were alone, but you kept him at arm's length. You led him into the kitchen and retrieved something off the counter.

You handed him a paper bag, “I made you lunch. Dinner, maybe?” He nodded and went to open the bag to inspect its contents. You grabbed his wrist. “Just wait until you get to work, okay?” 

“You’re asking me to be very patient tonight,” he pointed out, sliding a hand around your waist. 

You pecked his lips and pulled him closer, “It’s worth it. Promise.” 

Once it was time for him to leave, you held the door for him and walked him to his car. You had that grin that told him you were up to no good. 

“I hope you enjoy your lunch,” you mentioned as he reached the driver’s side door. 

His eyes flicked to the paper bag clutched in his hand and back to the grin that danced across your lips. Slowly, he started to put the pieces together, and excitement mixed with something else stirred in his belly. He gave you a quick peck on your cheek and yanked open the door to his car, suddenly eager to get to work. 

He kept an iron grip on the wheel for the entirety of his drive. The paper bag sat in the passenger seat, taunting him. He was glad he was the only one in the parking lot as he haphazardly whipped his car into a spot. 

His legs moved almost as quickly as his thoughts as he entered the pizzeria. His footsteps echoed throughout the hallway as he walked toward his office. A small part of him felt embarrassed that he was so excited to see whatever was in the bag.

He forced his breathing to steady as he entered his office. Mike didn’t pride himself on being a patient man, but he figured whatever was in that bag would definitely be worth the wait. He leisurely went through the motions of his nighttime routine, checking the security cameras and making sure all the animatronics were in their correct spots. He’d hoped they would leave him alone just long enough for him to open his gift. 

Finally, he settled into his rolling chair with the paper bag in his lap. He prayed he wasn’t getting his hopes up for a sandwich.  He gingerly opened it and peeked inside. Nestled neatly among the contents of the bag was a VHS tape. His heart rate quickened as he pulled it out and read the label on the front. ‘For Mike’ was scribbled in your neat scrawl and hearts were scattered along the label. 

His hands shook slightly as he ejected the training tape from the player and slid yours in. The TV came to life and it took him a moment to figure out what he was looking at. His eyes widened when he realized he was watching himself sleep. Midday light was shining through his window, and you were grinning as you stepped into the frame. 

You were wearing a pair of sweatpants and one of his hoodies; his cock jumped in his jeans from just that alone. Such a simple sign of ownership had his breath catching in his throat as he continued to watch. You made a show of stripping for him. You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your sweatpants and slowly tugged them down your legs. You’d taken your underwear off at the same time as your sweatpants, wasting no time in baring yourself to him. 

You had that same grin that he loved as you bent down to pick up something off the floor, giving the camera the perfect view of your ass. He felt like he was about to burst as you lifted his pants and, with a flourish, tucked your underwear into the front pocket. 

He frantically patted the front of his pants and reached inside each pocket. He released a sigh as his fingers wrapped around the lacy fabric of your panties. He pulled them out of his pocket and brought them to his nose, breathing in your scent. 

His cock pressed uncomfortably against his jeans as he watched you take your hoodie off, revealing that you wore nothing underneath it. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you as your fingers danced across your chest. He leaned back in his chair, your panties clutched in one hand while the other worked to free his cock from his jeans. 

His fingers were clumsy as he unbuttoned his jeans and yanked down his zipper. He slipped his hand past the waistband of his briefs and gasped as he finally slid a hand over his length. He watched as you caressed his thighs before moving to finally touch him. 

He tugged his briefs down and under his balls, just like you did on the tape. Your actions were gentle but precise as you stroked him. He matched your pace perfectly. Your eyebrows knitted together in concentration as you slid your hand over his aching cock. 

You pulled away, and Mike halted his own movements, a low whine escaping him. His cock jumped in his hand when you wrapped your plush lips around his cock. He swiped his thumb over the tip of his cock, matching the seductive way your tongue swirled around it.  Your position in front of the camera allowed him to see every minute detail of you bobbing your head around him, and he could already feel the familiar coil tightening in his abdomen. 

A strangled sigh escaped his lips as you drew back with a wet pop. You darted your tongue out to taste him across your lips. A shiver went up his spine at your actions. You were careful as you straddled him and drug your core against him. 

He moaned along with you as you lowered yourself onto his cock. He was slightly surprised he didn’t wake up with you above him whining like that. A part of him wished he did wake up, so he could’ve fucked you properly. 

He planted his feet and rutted his hips into his fist as he watched you create the marks he now donned. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled his small office, and every inch of his skin burned with desire. 

He took your panties and slid them across his cock, moaning as the lacy fabric drug against his flushed skin. The feeling mixed deliciously with the smoothness of his palm, and his back arched against the chair. His jaw went slack, each breath punctuated with a needy moan and a thrust of his hips. 

With a strangled cry, he was cumming, eyes glued to your form as you fell apart on his cock. The pretty little whines you were making were going to be seared into his mind for as long as he lived. The white strings of his release covered your panties with some dripping down his fist and across his knuckles. 

He used your panties to clean up the mess he made. His cheeks flushed as the lace smeared his release over his cock. He prayed you’d leave the light on for him.  

[neocrias]

kind gestures svt would make to their s/o without them realizing

warnings: descriptions; headcanons; gn (mostly) reader self insert;

pairings: svt x gn reader

gender/aus: super fluff

Scoups

Protecting you from getting hurt.

He's a protector… period. We all know that already. He's the leader of seventeen, the leader of carats, this man is used to taking control of the situation and it's almost instinctive for him. Cheol simply doesn't notice the way he puts his hand on the edge of the table so you don't hit your head when you get up. He doesn't notice the protective hand on your back, urging you into the first seats. He notices even less the way he wakes up in the middle of the night because he knows you're moving around in a strange and potentially dangerous position for your back. It's just natural.

Jeonghan

Brushing or drying your hair.

On those occasions when you've had a bad day, your head is throbbbing and all you want is to be looked after by your boyfriend, you can bet that Jeonghan will do it. He'll follow your hair care routine step by step to the letter. Jeonghan has such a light hand that you fall asleep whenever he's gently brushing your hair. When your entire post-bath routine is complete, he'll arrange your sleeping body on the bed, he'll lie down next to you and you'll sleep together until the next day.

Joshua

Stands behind you when you're wearing skirts or shorts to avoid any accidents.

If you need to climb stairs, he'll be right behind you. If you need to pick something up, he'll hold the end of your skirt between his fingers so that it doesn't ride up. If you drop something on the floor (and Shua can't get down faster than you), he'll take a few steps to the side to cover you. It doesn't matter if you're wearing protective shorts or not, Joshua doesn't want you to become the object of evil looks or comments.

Jun

Does never admit that he hates your musical taste.

You will turn on the speakers before cleaning the house or just for vibing around and Jun already know what's coming. He absolutely hates the loud songs you listen to, but he'll never actually say it. If he's really invested into pampering you, he'll even nod and say “wow, that one's good, babe”. He doesn't like the songs, but he loves seeing you dance to them happily. Eventually becomes attached to the music because it reminds him of you.

Hoshi

Put on or take off your shoes.

He will do this without hesitation. The minute you leave the house, Hoshi will take the shoes from your hands, kneel down in front of you and help you put them on. If it's a pair of sneakers, he'll make an extra effort to tie the laces. If they're heels (especially with straps) Hoshi will make a point of dragging his nails along the back of your calf, just because he thinks it's funny to see your leg fail. He's a prankster.

Wonwoo

Google the things you mention.

If Wonwoo doesn't know about something you like or something you've mentioned, he'll research it later. He wants to be a part of every part of your life and uses these little details to reaffirm his love for you. So if there's a new skincare routine that you're dying to try, Wonwoo will research everything about it so that he can accompany you when you buy it, or help you when you apply it, or nod when you explain the function and order of every. single. product. You were talking to him about some "primer" and "foundation" stuff that he's not aware of? He'll google what it is as soon as you finish.

Woozi

Solves your problems so you don't have to worry.

Woozi might do bureaucratic things for you. You know those grown-up things that nobody wants to do? Like, you need to call the bank? He's already got the phone in his hand. Do you need to make a doctor's appointment? He'll do it for you. Filing your taxes or making the grocery list? Don't worry about it.

Dokyeom

Carrying you.

Dok is a strong boy, like he has big arms. And he likes it when you look impressed by that, it's a surprise every time you remember that your adorable puppy boyfie is actually a HUGE man. So every time you're coming back from an event, or somewhere you've had to wear heels, Dok will lift you up bridal style and carry you to the car, then to the door of the house, or to the bedroom…

Mingyu

Cares about your food (what a surprise).

If you order something with strawberries, he'll order it too just to give you his strawberry, because even though he likes strawberries, you like strawberries more, so he doesn't mind going the rest of his life without eating strawberries. If you're eating while walking in the street and Mingyu sees that you're struggling to eat while holding a can of soda, he'll hold it out to you and keep offering it to you until you've finished eating. Mingyu just wants to see you well fed, because he's happy to see the little weeds you make when you eat something you really like.

Minghao

Discreet PDA when you're tired.

Minghao will discreetly intertwine his pinky in yours if he notices that you're starting to feel overwhelmed in a crowded environment, he'll be your main object of comfort. In fact, he'll do this even if you only really like physical touch, despite not being the biggest fan of pda. It's the perfect blend of affectionate and discreet.

Seungkwan

Takes high care of your health.

He is always the first one to ask you how your doctor appointment went out. He buys you vitamins and cooks you proper meals. Boo is just always reminding you of drinking water and stretching when you've been sitting in the same position for a while. He just can't stand the thought of you in pain or ill. He WILL come up with the "your body is a temple" talk, you can't escape it.

Vernon

Gives up some of his habits for you without you realizing it.

He's said to be mostly a disorganized person, but as soon as you start living together, he'll subtly change a few habits to make you comfortable - especially if he knows you like things tidy. So don't be surprised if he starts folding both of your clothes and making your bed in the morning for the next few weeks. He'll do these tiny little things. He probably wouldn't turn into Mr. Cleanest overnight, but he would do these little tasks for you.

Dino

Carrying your bags and opening doors.

Dino never lets you carry anything, or open doors or anything that requires using your hands. You don't have to because, after all, he's there to do all that. It doesn't matter if it's light, if it's heavy, if it's just your cell phone… he'll carry it for you. No argument there. And yes, I'm totally influenced by that video of his. If Dino sees you with anything in your hand, he'll rush to take it from you. If you need to call the elevator, he'll rush to do it before you even think about it.