⌗ ADORE YOU ﹕이희승 (TEASER)

Please Stay - OP81

Summary: Oscar knew she was struggling but he never imagined she'd try to leave him like this. She might be saved for now, but he's not willing to risk it again.

Warnings/themes: Suicide attempt, depression, guilt, medication (sedatives, anti-depressants etc)

Word count: 3.8k

No part 2 requests please

Something had felt off before the race, y/n didn't send her usual message wishing him good luck. She never misses a race and she definitely never misses sending him a text.

She's been pretty quiet all weekend, but he knows she's just not been talkative and while he wants to force her to be there so he can see her and check in on her. He doesn't want to make her more upset, and he knows when her moods are low she doesn't like being fusses over.

It wasn't an amazing race but he made top 5 which is good points. He's getting out the car moving through to get weighed then preparing to get himself straight to the media pen but Kim is there looking almost grey.

"That bad to not get a podium." Oscar jokes as he's handed his water bottle.

"We need to talk somewhere private." Kim states making Oscar frown but move with him since Kim doesn't play games or jokes like this so he knows it's something serious.

Oscar must be excused from media for now and that means it's something serious.

"Y/n's mum called. Y/n...is in hospital, she tried to..." The words tail off and Oscar knows what the sentence ends with.

He's already sweaty but a new cold sweat hits as he's winded by the information.

"She's alive. She's ok and she's getting the help she needs. Her mum just needed you to know from someone you trust." Kim rambles but his words meet dear ears as Oscar checks his phone texting y/n's mum that he'll be on a plane as soon as he's out of there and then he moves to shower knowing he really can't travel in this state but.

"I need a ticket on the next flight."

-

It had all taken too long. Too long to contact her mum back. Too long to get to the airport. Too long for the flight to get him there. Too long for the car to get to the hospital.

Even walking around the hospital it's like he's moving in slow motion and can't speed up.

Hospitals are the worst place if you're trying to improve someone's mood. At least that's what Oscar thinks as he walks through the hallways following y/n's mum's instructions to get to the right ward.

He doesn't even think twice as he locates y/n's room and finds y/n sleeping with her mum there, eyes looking pretty raw as she holds y/n's hands.

There's almost a moment of comfort. But sight of her wrists in slightly loose bindings to the bed tells him that she's not asleep willingly.

"Oscar." Y/m/n chokes out spotting the driver shifting away. "I'm sorry, I didn't know if calling you was right I just...I know you care about her and when I got the call-god, I just went into autopilot."

"I'm glad you did...is she ok?"

The older woman looks over at her daughter and sighs.

"She wasn't happy to see she made it. They sedated her for her own safety and the wrist restrains were so she wouldn't cause more harm to herself. I'm just...I'm so glad someone found her."

"Did they say what's going to happen?"

"Once she's stable enough, they want to send her to a place that can help."

"She won't like that."

"I know."

"I can stay here. You probably need some rest and just...time out of here." Oscar states already feeling the drag of the hospital taking his energy a little.

Her mum is definitely hesitant and he promises that he'll call or text as soon as there is anything that changes.

Then he sits and waits.

It was a few hours and y/n stirred in and out of her sleep but not enough to properly sleep. Oscar just waits in the silence, nurses coming to check on y/n and seeming to look at him in concern but he doesn't say anything.

Eventually she wakes up and she is still out of it a little as the sedatives wear off.

"Hey, baby." Oscar smiles lightly but she's already blinking away tears trying to move her hand only for it to be stopped my the restraints making her choke a sob. "Hey, it's ok. I can get them off you're ok."

"I'm sorry." Y/n cries shaking her head. "I'm sorry."

"No. You don't need to be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry about." Oscar assures her while y/n hiccups feeling the weight of her actions hit her but he's not going to let her do that to herself. "Are you feeling ok? Does anything hurt?"

"I'm fine." Y/n mutters shaking her head as Oscar finally gets the restraints from her wrists and she sits up, the speed of her actions making her head spin but she latches onto Oscar in a tight hug. "I just didn't want to do it anymore."

"I know. But we're all going to help you, baby. We're going to make it so much better." Oscar promises making her swallow but nod. "I'm not going anywhere and I don't want to lose you like that. We're all going to make sure you know how much you mean to people, ok?"

Y/n does get a chance to respond as the doctors enter with a nurse and suddenly everything is kicked into gear. Apparently Oscar's presence is calming her but the plan of action is unchanged. Y/n needs full time help and monitoring that the people in her life just can't provide for her right now.

Of course, y/n tries to fight it but a couple looks exchanged with Oscar and she silences herself again then eventually she sighs all the paperwork and agrees to be moved.

"It's 30 days. I'll come pick you up and I'll visit." Oscar promises cupping her face as more tears roll down her cheeks.

Really he wants to fight them, he wants to argue it's unnecessary and that she won't do it again because he will make sure of it. But he can't make those promises, he can't help her on his own and he's not equip to do so.

Love can't fix everything. It's not always enough.

-

Triple headers are rough on a good run. But Oscar flying back home every Monday to visit y/n and see how she's doing, his only comfort is that each visit, she seems to getting better.

She's not happy there but he can see it is doing her some good.

The world knows. Of course there's no secrets in the public eyes.

The media have danced around the topic but he knows they've spoken about worries that maybe distracting him off track. Not that it's done anything to effect his performance or results, in fact if anything he's been more determined to give a good result for y/n since he knows she's watching every session.

Lando, Zak and Andrea have known to keep away from the topic. Only Zak briefly checking in with the Aussie and just making sure y/n is ok since the team know her and they do care.

It's not nice to ever know that someone would attempt to take their own life but it's also much harder a hit when it's someone you know.

Oscar arrives straight from the airport looking around the communal area before he spots y/n. Reading one of the books he brought the last time he came last week.

He doesn't even hesitate moving to sit down next to her and capture her in a kiss without a second of exchange between hand as he pulls her into his lap. She melts into the action, completely softening at the feel of him.

"Enjoying your book?" Oscar asks finally breaking away from her lips.

He's missed y/n before but never like this. Every time he leaves, he's leaving part of his heart with her and he's taking part of hers with him.

"Yes. It's killing time. But I've read it like 4 times now." Y/n smiles while Oscar's smile turns slightly sympathetic. "I actually have good news though."

"What's that?" Oscar smiles taking the prospect of good news as something very very very good to hear.

"They said I'm ready to go if I want. It's just...a case of agreeing to the terms."

"What are the terms?"

"I stay on my meds, every other day appointments with my psychiatrist, they'll slowly get further apart so long as I need getting better...and if anything starts to feel bad again, then I tell them immediately." Y/n explains clearly uneasy at her conditions.

It's hard admitting that she needs medication to feel ok and it's even more hard knowing that Oscar has to deal with this because of her. But she doesn't want to lose him and she knows even if she did try to protect him by forcing him to leave her, by ending the relationship. He'd insist on being there as a friend and he wouldn't allow her to permanently push him away.

He may not seem it but the man is stubborn when he wants to be.

"That's amazing baby. Would you...be able to travel with all of that?" Oscar asks giving away that while she has options of her parents or friends who would step in to take care of her. He wants her with him.

"I can ask." Y/n nods lightly before feeling an ache at the idea of being with Oscar again, which in turn makes tears pool behind her eyes as her lip quivers. "I've really missed you."

"I've missed you too, baby. But I'd rather miss you for a little while than miss you for the rest of my life. Ok? And I'm gonna make sure we both live very long and very very happy lives. Together."

Y/n presses her forehead to Oscar's for a few moments as he mirrors her action. Having her close is a comfort to him the same way having him there is a comfort to her.

"Can I take you today?" Oscar asks making her shift back slightly since that wasn't something she'd asked or thought about. As much as she's happy to go along with it.

"I'd have to ask. I don't know if that was the plan." Y/n laughs lightly but really she wants out of there.

"Yeah, who can we ask? Is there someone around we can talk to?" Oscar asks looking around just wanting to get y/n out of there. To have y/n with him whenever he goes.

10 minutes later they're in the doctor's office and Oscar is making his case that he will guarantee that y/n is sticking to her conditions and taking her medication and he'll take care of her.

It's both a comfort and a horrible feeling that her boyfriend has to make those sorts of promises. Her mental struggle shouldn't affect him like that.

They both have to sign all sorts of papers and she can tell the doctor is hesitant to give her such a rushed release but after trusting the medication in Oscar's hands and every reassurance that she will be cared for. She's released a while 7 days earlier than initially planned when she was taken there.

-

Oscar had practically treated y/n's conditions as a military regime, same times every day for her medication, following instructions on if they need food and what she should swallow them with (it's always water). What to do if she has the side effects that can also be treated. Making sure she has the time and space needed to speak to her psychiatrist.

He's strict with her but she knows it's because he doesn't want her to do that again. He doesn't want to risk the threat of him losing her. All he wants is y/n for as long as he can have her and he'll do anything to keep her.

So far the world doesn't know y/n is there. But that's not going to last long and they both know it.

"Will you be ok?" Oscar asks while they lie in bed, putting off getting ready to just enjoy the bliss.

"I'm more concerned for you. Will you be ok leaving me when you actually have to work with me here?" Y/n asks with a smile before sighing when the alarms go off, ruining the moment as Oscar shoots to turn them off and sighs kissing her quickly before he gets out of the warmth of the bed. "You know if I'm a couple minutes late to have them. It doesn't do any harm."

"Doesn't do any harm to have them the same time every day either." Oscar smiles while handing her the pills and holding the glass of water as she throws them into her mouth then takes the glass swallowing them with a mouthful of water. "I love you, baby."

He always makes a point to remind her after she takes her medication.

"I love you too." Y/n smiles before accepting another kiss from the Aussie.

After finally getting up, y/n and Oscar shower, then get dressed and she does make a bit more effort than she has in the past wanting to at least look put together since she knows the world is aware of what she did. What she tried and failed at.

Anxiety squeezes her chest for a moment as she feels a wave of worry hit her but two hands come down giving a gentle squeeze to her shoulders and immediately the nerves disappear. Melting away under his touch as she feels the usual comfort of his touch.

"I'm ok." She states looking at him in the relationship while Oscar looks at her with concerned eyes.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm ready."

-

Oscar and y/n are both holding each other's hands in a crippling grip, though admittedly Oscar's hold is a little more crippling than y/n's since he generally has the better arm strength.

There had been an offer for a big welcome back from the team but Oscar didn't think making a bigger deal of her being there was going to help with anything or make her feel any better. Perhaps if she was coming back from something else, but her reason for not being there with Oscar isn't something she really wants to make a deal of.

McLaren has been the team who talks about mental health the most being involved with the Mind charity and Lando being quite the advocate due to his own struggles.

But Oscar knows few of them have been in his or y/n's position and he just doesn't want her to feel anything but normal being here, or as normal as he can help her to feel.

"Hey, Kim." Y/n smiles greeting the man with a one armed hug since Oscar has yet to release her hand.

Then Zak appears and he also gets the awkward one armed hug.

"It's good to have you back." Zak comments making her smile a little feeling a slight shine in her eyes as she nods. "We're all very happy to have you here again."

"It's nice to be back."

Oscar steps closer squeezing her hand before she clears her throat and sighing.

"Going to be a good weekend. Right? Oscar was telling me it looks like a good track for you guys."

"We're hoping so and Oscar has been on a very good run. Maybe we're get to see a win this weekend and I'm sure he's looking to keep you impressed." Zak chuckles before seeming to read Oscar's expression. "Let me know if you need anything. You're one of the family here."

"Thank you." Y/n nods then letting Oscar guide her to his room where he sighs and smiles at her. "Don't look so on edge. I'm ok. Really...their tears of surprise over how endearing and caring everyone is being."

"I don't want anyone to upset you. Tell me if someone does. Please."

"I will."

Oscar catches her in a kiss smiling as he presses his lips against her own.

"We'll grab something to eat yeah?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty hungry." Y/n nods with a grin.

-

The media may have tip-toed around the topic of y/n while she was gone and are going to continue to not address it on McLaren's instructions so they know it's completely off the cards to even ask about.

But that doesn't mean they aren't writing articles and making posts with photos of her by Oscar's side as she returns.

Even the broadcast makes sure to feature her at least once in every session from her spot at the back of the McLaren garage with Kim.

Sadly Oscar doesn't get much control over that.

But the weekend goes on, Oscar making sure if he's not there to have y/n take her meds then Kim does though he's slightly less forceful about it and y/n appreciates that. Obviously he's working on Oscar's request but also out of care for y/n because he knows her, he never wants to think about what she tried to do.

Going into the race y/n has to admit the team looks strong. Lando got pole but it's a coin toss as to who will win.

As usual they're told they're free to race so long as they keep it clean.

Y/n actually forgot about the type of anxiety that comes with watching Oscar race. But she doesn't feel quite so bad when she watches Oscar take the lead off the line and keep it going into the end of the first lap.

Lando stay in DRS for a few laps but he doesn't manage to pass and then Oscar gets out of DRS and he takes off leaving the Brit behind but they'd already both got a gap on the rest of the field so their small battle was completely fine.

Watching Oscar race clears everything from y/n's mind. Almost making her forget about the entire last month.

When he crosses the line at the end taking the win y/n feels the flurry of emotion that just makes her buzz with excitement. She's out at the barriers with the team waiting for Oscar to pull up and there's no doubt when he's out the car he's looking for y/n.

"You were amazing." Y/n smiles before he kisses her, it being the first time he's given more than a hug post race but this time. He needs a kiss. Hell if he could take her up as his team member from the team to stand on the podium then he'd take her.

"For some reason I only win when you're here. So remember I need you here." Oscar states earning a small nod.

He does move to celebrate with the rest of the team before he's interviewed admitting this was a very special win and a very important weekend for him. He doesn't say why exactly but everyone knows why so it doesn't really need to be said out loud.

Oscar smiles looking at y/n from the moment he steps out on the podium, a McLaren 1-2 with him taking the win. Y/n is there, he listen to the anthems before spraying the champagne and in silent promise to y/n, he'd decided he wouldn't be drinking while she couldn't and her medication says no alcohol so while he is soaked in it, he doesn't take the traditional drink after the spray and instead just passes it down to the team for them to get a drink.

There's something that feels healed when he sees y/n standing with his PR assistant and Kim, the trophy taken and he loops the medal over her before cupping her face actually pushing her backwards gently as he kisses her. He'd had flash backs to the moment of Kim telling him they needed to talk alone when y/n had tried to kill herself, every time he'd walked out after a race. But this time she's there. She's there and she's alive and she's ok.

She's going to be just fine and he's going to make sure of it.

Y/n has a long journey and he's not going to let her ever fall that low again, he'll catch her before rock bottom ever touches her again. He wants to make sure she always has a reason to live. Whether it's him or something else, but he never wants her to feel like she's got nothing keeping her here.

There's probably a dozen cameras on them, because Oscar isn't making a short matter of the kiss. Hell he'd love it to last for hours, maybes days or weeks. He could live in this moment on replay for the rest of his life and be very happy.

"Oscar, you have to go do your media and the press conference." Y/n laughs finally breaking away from him and he definitely feels a little butt hurt about it. "You were amazing, and we can celebrate later, however you like."

"Fine. But I'm making this all quick." Oscar declares earning a nod from the young woman. "Kim can you go make sure..."

"Yep."

Y/n should've guess Oscar would know she needs to take her meds and hadn't yet.

So they part with a final peck before y/n takes her meds and just waits for Oscar to finish up for the day. Even just lying down on his physio bed as she feels her meds doing their job, altering the chemistry of her brain and hazing out the parts that nobody wants to to be active and working.

"Baby?" Oscar chuckles seeing y/n just lying with her eyes closed and mind definitely somewhere else as he gently rubs her stomach. "You ok?"

"Just thinking...you just changing?"

"Yeah, need to get something clean for the debrief and the social media stuff they want from us." Oscar nods then smiling. "It won't be much longer. I promise."

"No. Take your time. It's fine." Y/n shrugs before settling back down and closing her eyes. "I'm pretty comfortable any way."

"I can see that." Oscar hums then placing a packet of sweets on her stomach and a bottle of water that somehow balances without falling off. "Eat and drink please."

"You know you got bossier."

"That's ok, I'll live." Oscar smiles before he leans down kissing her. "Eat, drink then you can sleep more before we go."

🤍give up heaven: sunghoon

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 10.6k

synopsis: when you run into your best friend's ex-boyfriend at your favorite coffee shop thinking it was just a coincidence until seeing him became a daily thing. You can't get him out of your head and start to feel guilty at the very thought of him and things take a turn when he starts making advances towards you.

genre: hockey player!hoon with small mentions of figure skater!hoon, ex-bestfriend bf!hoon, hoon's ex-girlfriend best friend, friends to lovers, slight smut.

warnings: swearing, implied sex, make-out session, fingering, jerking off, verbal fight between reader, the ex, and sunghoon, MINORS DNI. lmk if i've missed anything!

You tried to avert your eyes when you saw him walk into the coffee shop. Pulling the scarf around your neck up higher and turning your face in the opposite direction. 

His voice echoed throughout the small shop, ordering his regular drink. Why do you still remember how he liked his coffee?

You slowly glanced up, his back was facing towards you, his hand reaching for his wallet from the back pocket of his blue jeans. 

After paying, he stepped back from the counter. You quickly turned your head away again, praying he didn’t see you or would even notice you. 

“Y/N?” 

Well, shit.

There's no point in hiding now. You slowly lifted your head, seeing the soft smile on his face as he slightly leaned to the side to get a look at your face, “It really is you.” 

You awkwardly smile, “Yes, it’s me.” 

Get your shit together, Y/N, come on.

He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped short when his name was called, “Sunghoon! Your iced coffee is ready!” 

“Be right back,” his knuckles tapped on the table, his smile growing. 

You carefully watched as he got his coffee and made his way back to your table, pulling the chair across from you out and seating himself. 

“How have you been?” he asked excitedly, his long fingers wrapping around his coffee, taking a small sip, “It’s been what? A year?” 

You nodded, wrapping your fingers around your warm coffee, “I see you still drink iced coffee even during the winter, some things never change huh?” 

Sunghoon softly chuckled, his smile just growing brighter and wider, his natural fangs peeking from his lips, “Everyone knows iced coffee is superior,” he leaned his elbows onto the table, “Your hair is longer, it looks good. You look good.” 

You smiled, “Thank you, you look really good as well, Sunghoon.” 

Sunghoon gave you a soft smirk and flexed his arms, “Why thank you! Been working out a lot lately.” 

You rolled your eyes and took another sip of your coffee, “You really haven’t changed.” 

His laugh was enough to make you laugh as well, the corners of your lips curving upwards no matter how hard you tried to push it down. 

It felt like old times. 

Speaking about old times…

His smile finally faded, the happy expression he once had was also gone, his face relaxing into a kinda of sad softness. 

His voice trembled, “How is uhh…how is she?” his eyes darted to the corner of the table. 

Oh…he’s still in love with her.

Your lips thinned into a line, trying to figure out what information was appropriate to give out. 

“She’s really good.” it wasn’t a total lie. 

Sunghoon nodded, the corner of his lips barely curling, “That’s… um…that’s good then. I’m glad she’s doing well.” 

It broke your heart that he couldn’t even say your best friend's name. It must still hurt even after a year. 

Sunghoon dated your best friend for almost three years. You remember when the two of you first met him at your college's hockey game. 

He bumped into the two of you, spilling his soda all down your best friend's outfit. Oh, man was she pissed. It didn’t take Sunghoon long to convince her to let him make it up to her. 

After that, they were inseparable. 

Sunghoon was a part of the hockey team, but due to a leg injury, he had to sit out until he was completely healed. But that didn’t stop him from attending every hockey game to support his teammates. He even dragged your best friend along with him. Which eventually led you to tag along as well. 

The three of you became that trio that was inseparable. A package deal. If you saw one of us, the other two were sure to be right behind. 

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t. Their relationship got toxic. They fought more than normally and on hangout days, either your best friend was missing, or Sunghoon was missing. Nothing felt right and the air between your friend group grew thick. Hard to breathe. 

Sunghoon eventually stopped talking to you, and then they broke up. Your best friend stopped hanging around you and slowly stopped speaking to you as well. You figured it was due to the heartbreak, that she just needed her space. You didn’t think it would lead to your friendship slowly becoming nonexistent. 

You two weren’t exactly best friends anymore, but after she healed from the breakup, she came back around. It just wasn’t the same as before Sunghoon came into the picture. 

You two still barely talk, and barely see each other, but still kept that contact and hung out when you could. 

You never understood why she pushed you away, but the heart does crazy things when it’s hurting. 

And you haven’t seen Sunghoon since a couple of months before the breakup, until today. A little over a year later. 

“Well,” Sunghoon’s voice brought you out of your deep thoughts, “I have to get going, need to catch practice.” 

Your eyebrows raised, “You’re playing still?” 

Sunghoon’s doctor finally cleared him to get back on the ice after almost a year of being off it, but due to the team setup they had at that time, he wasn’t able to fully rejoin the team again until around the time of the breakup. He was able to practice and attend the games as a sub if needed, but it was enough for him to keep his mind busy for a little bit. 

You’ve secretly kept up with the scores of the hockey team, knowing Sunghoon was back on the team officially. But after a while you quit. Clearing Sunghoon from your life completely. 

Sunghoon nodded, “Hell yeah I’m still playing, who do you think I am?” he teased, standing up from the table, “But, I am actually not going to hockey practice.” 

The surprise must have shown on your face because Sunghoon was giggling like a child at your confusion, “I joined an ice skating team as a figure skater.” 

You sat up straighter in your chair, “Since when?!”

“Since…well.” He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, it was all you needed to know. 

Being a sub on the hockey team eventually wasn’t enough for Sunghoon to keep his brain busy after the breakup. Until he was officially able to play again, he needed another distraction. Come to find out he loved figure skating as much as hockey, deciding even after being fully back on the hockey team, he kept up with figure skating as well. 

You slowly nodded, “I am really glad you’re doing well for yourself, Sunghoon.” 

He softly nodded back, “Thank you, Y/N. I have to get going, the ice is calling my name.”

You waved at him as he walked to the entrance, him turning back around as his back touched the doors, “It was nice seeing you!” 

You agreed. 

—

Your best friend sighed as another customer walked into the smoothie shop, holding up her index finger towards you as she walked away and up to the register, taking the customer's order. 

You leaned against the counter, moving the seat back and forth with your hips like a child. 

“Okay,” she said, returning to you after the customer's smoothie was made, “What were you telling me?” 

“Just that the materials you missed in bio today weren't too hard. I took extra notes for you,” you pulled into your backpack taking out the pretty iced blue folder, “Here they are!” you pulled out the stack of notes you made for her, her taking them and holding them to her chest.

“Thank you SO MUCH YN!!!” she placed the papers in a drawer under the counter, “I could kiss you right now. What would I do without you?” 

Probably survive perfectly fine since you had no problem cutting me off after you and Sunghoon broke up. 

You shrugged with a smile, “Fail bio.” 

She laughed and nodded, “Yeah, probably. But I have you to help keep me in the loop!” 

You honestly hated how the two of you could go DAYS sometimes even WEEKS without talking or seeing each other yet she has no problem acting as if nothing ever happened. 

But she was all you had, so you played along with her. 

You dropped your backpack onto the floor, wondering if telling her the other thing was right or wrong. 

You decided to anyway. 

“I also saw Sunghoon the other day.” 

Her movements slowed and her smile faded, “Is that so?” 

You nodded, “We talked for a couple of minutes, but he had to go practice, so it was a short moment.” 

You could see the gears were turning in her brain, “Practice? Guess he was able to get back on the team after all. That’s good at least.” 

“He actually is figure skating now too, that’s where he was headed.” 

Your best friend’s eyes widened, “Wow, I did not see that one coming.” 

You agreed, “It was definitely not something I’d expected Park Sunghoon to do, but I guess it kinda suits him.” 

Your friend nodded, seeing how deep in thought she was. 

You wanted to ask her to speak her mind, but unfortunately, the two of you weren’t that close anymore. 

A couple more customers walked in, sending her back away from you. 

You stood from the seat, grabbing your things, giving her a smile and wave as you walked out. You only came to give her the notes she missed anyway. 

Usually, when she skips out of class she gets the notes from one of the boys she’s secretly messing around with. But every blue moon she asks you. 

You guessed it was the only way to keep in contact with you in some way. 

—

You quickly stepped into the coffee shop, brushing off the slight snow from your hair, ready to get a sip of your favorite coffee. 

The barista noticed you, giving you his famous thumbs-up, “Already on it YN!” 

You gave him a thumbs-up back. You were so happy you discovered this place, it became one of your comfort places to be. It’s quiet enough to do homework or read, the coffee is amazing and all the baristas know you and your order. What isn’t there to love?

“Fancy seeing you here again,” you whipped around, seeing Sunghoon sitting in your usual spot, a book in his hands and his iced coffee half empty on the table. 

Your brain spasmed, what was he doing here again?

You just nodded, “You’re in my spot.” 

Sunghoon shrugged, “I can move?” 

Well shit, now you feel bad. 

You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind sharing.” 

Sunghoon smiled, eyes flickering back down to his book. 

The barista called your name, turning your attention back to him, “Thank you, Taehyun.” 

His sharky smile warms your heart, “Always,” his eyes darted over to Sunghoon then back to you, “Do you know him?” 

You sighed, “Yes, he’s an old friend.” 

Taehyun nodded, his tongue sliding into his cheek, “He’s been here every day since the last time you were here.” 

You froze, narrowing your eyes, “Honestly?” 

Taehyun nodded again, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay and that he wasn’t some creep.” 

You smiled softly at him, “No need to worry. He’s harmless.” 

Taehyun gave you a half smile, then walked off to finish working. 

You sat down in front of Sunghoon, his eyes not leaving the page of his book. 

You cleared your throat, taking a sip of your coffee. 

Sunghoon glanced up for a second at your throat clearing, “Yes?” 

You cupped your hands around your coffee, “What?” 

Sunghoon sighed and closed his book, setting it on the table, “You only clear your throat like that when you have something to say.” 

Damn, does he remember the small details of you?

“You remember that?” 

Sunghoon chuckled, picking up his iced coffee, “YN, I’ve known you for almost, what? five years? You think I’d just forget everything?” 

Well, no…just didn’t think you’d care enough to remember. you didn’t date me after all. 

All you could do was shrug, “My barista told me you’ve been here every day,”

Sunghoon raised a brow as he sipped on his coffee, finishing it off, “Your barista?” 

“Not like that!” you snapped quietly, wishing you could jump over the table and tackle him, “I’m a regular here, Taehyun just happens to be the barista who always takes care of me.” 

Sunghoon mouthed out a “wow” and leaned back into the seat, “First name bases too?” 

“Sunghoon,” his name falling off your lips felt foreign, mostly since you were speaking to him, “Why are you here every day?” 

He thinned out his lips into a line, eyes looking down at his Converse, “Been looking for a good coffee shop to regular, and this one surprised me when I first came in here. You just so happened to be here the day I decided to try it.”

That sounds…completely true. This coffee shop is incredible. You don’t blame him for wanting to become a regular. It was all a coincidence. 

You sipped down your coffee, feeling the stare of his eyes, “Yes?” 

“So back to Taehyun being your barista,” 

You laughed, kicking your leg into his shin, “Stop!” 

Sunghoon’s fangs slipped out as he smiled. 

—

Sunghoon’s appearance in the coffee shop became more regular, just like he said. 

Taehyun knew his order by heart, just like yours, and would always have it ready the moment he saw Sunghoon walk in. 

You had to admit, it felt good having him back in your life. It felt like old times when you’d hang out when your best friend was too busy working. You three all used to be so close. 

Yet you didn’t have the heart to tell her you were even hanging out with Sunghoon again. It technically wasn’t even hanging out, you two just happened to sit, talk, and drink coffee together at your favorite coffee shop. 

Another week has flown by with Sunghoon making his appearance at the shop.

You laughed together over a book you both read, Sunghoon feeling Taehyun’s eyes on you. 

You stood up, “I’m heading to the bathroom,” 

Sunghoon nodded, his eyes darting to Taehyun, watching him as he watched you walk to the bathroom. A small sigh escaped Taehyun’s lips. 

Taehyun then made eye contact with him, and the look he was giving Sunghoon made him clench his fists. 

Your return to the table had Sunghoon relaxing, and Taehyun returning to work. 

Sunghoon couldn’t take his eyes off you. He felt so at home in your presence. His mind telling him to tell you the truth, that you deserved to know. But the moment you locked eyes with him and the corners of your lips curled into that precious smile, he couldn’t do it. 

“What’s up?” you asked, “You’re deep in thought?” 

“Ahh…” Sunghoon tried to collect his thoughts, then quickly smiled, settling on the topic change, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” you thought about it, “I just have class, why?” 

“Come to my hockey practice tomorrow night.” 

That invite took you by surprise, “Huh?” 

Sunghoon smiled even more, leaning forward on the table, “Come watch my practice tomorrow. Please?”

You tried to find an excuse to get out of it, but nothing came to mind. How could you just show up to your best friend’s ex-boyfriend’s hockey practice?

“The guys would love to see you, I bet.” Sunghoon mentioning his friends only hit you in the heart harder, “Come on, YN, just like old times.” 

Without a second thought, you agreed. Not knowing exactly why, but feeling as if it would be okay. It was just hockey practice. 

He jumped up from the table, “I have to get to figure skating practice, is your phone number still the same?”

You nodded, heart beating faster at hearing he still had your phone number. 

With a jump away from the table and a small skip, he said, “I’ll text you the details!” 

—

Sunghoon twirled his hockey stick in hand, eyes darting to each entrance of the stadium.

Heeseung skated past, quickly stopping in front of him, eyes also following each entrance, “Brother, what are you looking at?”

Sunghoon snaps his attention at Heeseung, his mouth open to speak, but no words coming out. 

“He’s waiting for YN,” Jay says as he also skates past, skating a circle around them. 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Dude.” 

Jay smirked, “Should’ve kept your mouth shut.” 

“Clearly, that’s the last time I tell you anything,” Sunghoon said, sliding his helmet over his head. 

Heeseung raised a brow, “Wait you’re speaking to YN again?” 

Sunghoon just nodded, “Yeah. We umm, ran into each other at a coffee shop.” 

“Yeah, “ran into each other”, we’ll call it that.” Jay teased, leaning forward on his hockey stick. 

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll kick your stick from you and laugh when you hit the ice,” Sunghoon said with a snarky smile. 

“Woah now!” Jay said, holding his hand up, “You’re a figure skater now, can’t be talking like that anymore.” 

Sunghoon skated forward, Jay also scooted backward sticking his tongue out. 

Heeseung seemed to be the only one who was concerned, “How did the three of you make up?” 

Sunghoon awkwardly chuckled, “You mean the two of us…”

Heeseung looked at his friend confused, “You and—“

“No,” Sunghoon quickly shook his head, “We aren’t talking.” 

Heeseung just nodded, finally putting the pieces together, “Sorry for assuming that you rekindled with both of them.” 

Sunghoon swung his hockey stick around again, “Just YN. And from what I’ve noticed, the two of them aren’t really friends anymore.”

It didn’t take long for Sunghoon to figure it out. The way it used to be, his ex would always talk about you, and you would always talk about his ex. The two of you were inseparable. A package deal. With one you got the other. And the fact that you haven’t once brought her up over the last week that he’s started talking to you again, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she also pushed you away after the breakup. 

Heeseung just nodded, “Do you blame them?” Sunghoon just looked at him, not knowing what to say, “YN doesn’t know, does she?” 

Sunghoon shook his head, “No, and she won’t.” 

“Hoon-“

“I am not ready to tell her,” Sunghoon snapped, “I finally got one of my closest friends back, I don’t want to cross that bridge.” 

Heeseung sighed and nodded, “Okay man, just don’t get butt hurt when it backfires at you.” 

Sunghoon knew this secret could backfire on him, he wasn’t stupid. But it was worth the risk. 

“I’m going to see if she texted me,” he said, “Just in case she said he couldn’t make it.” 

Heeseung watched as Sunghoon skated off towards his gym bag. 

Dropping his gloves to the ice and carefully stepping off the ice, he sat down on the bench, opened his gym bag, and pulled out his phone, quickly finding your messages and seeing you’ve read his last text. 

Sunghoon felt stupid getting his hopes up. What did he think inviting you would do? 

I just wanted her back in my life again. 

He tossed his phone back in the bag and stepped back onto the ice, pulling his gloves back onto his hands. 

I’m so fucking pathetic. 

Sunghoon adjusted his gloves, now waiting for practice to start. 

Jay whistled at him, causing a glare to shoot from his eyes.

Jay tilted his head up, “Look.” 

Sunghoon turned back around, seeing you walking in, your arms wrapped tightly around you. 

He couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face, immediately skating in your direction. 

“You made it!” he said, sliding his helmet from his head. 

You smiled back, nodding, “Sorry that I am a bit late, my class got out later.” 

You walked up to the wall Sunghoon was now leaning against, his helmet resting on top of it. 

“You showed up, and that’s all that matters,” Sunghoon couldn’t hide how happy it made him that you were here right now. 

You nodded again, smiling wide back at him, “It’s cold as balls in here though!” 

Sunghoon pointed over to his gym bag, “I have my hockey varsity jacket in my bag, wear it if you get too cold.” 

“I am definitely going to wear it,” you shivered, “I forgot how cold it gets in here.” 

The memory of the last time he saw you replayed in his mind, it was during a hockey game. His team was a couple of points away from winning. Sunghoon and his ex were too busy fighting off on the side of the bleachers, her stomping away not wanting to finish the conversation. His eyes wandered over to you, the sad look you gave him broke his heart even more. Your heart was also breaking due to watching your closest friends tear each other apart. All Sunghoon could do was shove his hands into his hoodie pocket and walk out of the stadium. 

He watched as you walked over to his things, your hands immediately reaching for the jacket and sliding it onto your body. 

Oh fuck I am a goner. 

Sunghoon loved the way you looked in his jacket. The way it loosely hangs against your body. How cute it made you look. His heart dropped onto the ice. 

Your body started warming up a bit more, sliding your hands into his jacket pockets. Your eyes traced the other players on the ice. Jay and Heeseung waving at you. You waved back. Gosh, you couldn’t remember the last time you saw either of them. 

You’ve seen them out and about around the college, but not so personally like this. It’s been way too long. 

Sunghoon skated back over to his friends and teammates. 

“It’s weird seeing her again,” Jay said, watching you sit down, eyes wandering around the stadium, “Mostly seeing her without her twin at her hip. She looks really good though,” 

Jay was lucky Sunghoon was in a better mood than earlier, or else he’d be wiping the ice with Jay’s face, “Can we not talk about my ex, please, and she does look good. Eyes off.” 

Jay wanted to make a smart remark, but with a quick look at Sunghoon and then you, he decided to leave the teasing off the ice, giving him a nod, “Yeah, sorry man.” 

Their coach finally started practice. 

It went by in a flash. You waited outside the stadium for Sunghoon, his jacket still wrapped around your body. 

“Well, what did you think of our practice?” Sunghoon said, sneaking up on you, and giving you a little jolt. 

“It was very interesting, you played well.” 

Sunghoon walked closer to you, his hands reaching up to fix the collar of his jacket, his cold fingers brushing against your skin, “My jacket looks really good on you.” 

Your heart sank. 

Is he…flirting???

“Oh, shoot!” you tried to play it off as if you forgot, wanting to find an excuse for the blush on your face to go away after his comment, reaching to take the jacket off, “Here, I forgot I was still wearing it.” 

Sunghoon grabbed your hands and shoved them back at your side, “YN, keep it.” 

“But—“ 

Sunghoon interrupted, “It’s okay! I promise! Just keep it for now, okay? I have another jacket I can wear.” 

You nodded, feeling your body getting hot from his hands still touching yours. 

Why are you getting so bothered??? You’ve known him for years. Why is every little thing he’s doing affecting you???

“Anyways,” he said, finally letting go of your hands, “We have a game this weekend, you’ll come right?” 

You wouldn’t mind going, it could be an excuse to get you out of your apartment for once and not just sit at the coffee shop either. 

“Yeah, I’ll come.”

Sunghoon smiled, his eyes darting to the ground to try and hide just how big he was smiling, “I’ll save you a ticket.” 

—

You walked into the shop, giving Taehyun a smile and wave. Giving you the normal thumbs up. 

You dropped your backpack to the floor at your normal table and slumped down into the seat with a sigh. 

“Rough day?” Sunghoon asked, his yellow highlighter moving across his textbook. 

You nodded, “I forgot to set my alarms last night, so I woke up late and got to class late. On top of that I had to take double the notes because…” you stopped yourself, not wanting to bring your best friend's name into the mix. 

Sunghoon stopped highlighting, he didn’t even have to hear her name to know what you were going to say, his eyes slowly rising to meet yours, “You’re still taking notes for her?” 

You just shrugged, “Maybe…” 

“YN,” he dropped his highlighter into the textbook, “You need to stop doing that.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Mostly because you knew he was right. She was just using you at this point. 

Taehyun interrupted your thoughts by setting your coffee down in front of you, “Tae! I could have gotten it from you.” 

His cute sharky smile came out, “Don’t worry about it, I don’t ever get to bring the coffee to you. Plus I needed to get away from behind the counter.” 

You smiled up at him, “Thank you.” 

Taehyun rested his hand on your shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze, “It’s no problem at all, YN.” 

Sunghoon clenched his fists under the table, eyes burning holes into his hand that was touching you. 

As Taehyun walked away, he locked eyes with Sunghoon as if to say “Your move now, buddy.” 

Oh, I’ll play your game, Taehyun. 

“He totally has a crush on you.” Sunghoon spat out. 

You softly giggled, “Who? Tae? No,” you giggled again, taking a sip of your coffee, “He’s just a good friend.” 

Sunghoon rubbed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, eyes darting back to Taehyun who was now back behind the counter, “I can see it in the way he looks at you.” 

You rolled your eyes. He sounds jealous. 

You glanced up at him, seeing how he kept his eyes on Taehyun. 

Oh, he’s…actually jealous??? No. It couldn’t be. He’s still in love with his ex.

You shook the thoughts from your head, deciding to change the subject, “Are you ready for the game tomorrow?” 

Sunghoon’s eyes made their way back to you, his face relaxing and a small smile formed, “Yes, you’re still coming…right?” 

You nodded, “I wouldn’t miss it,” you took another sip of your coffee, “Wasn’t able to see you play back then, so I’m excited to see you play now.” 

Hearing you say that warmed his heart. Knowing you’ll be in the crowd cheering for him and only him. He had to make sure he was on his ‘a game’ tomorrow. 

“Make sure to wear my jacket tomorrow,” Sunghoon gave you a wink, picking his highlighter back up and continuing where he left off. 

You giggled, “Why? What will your jacket do? Bring good luck?” 

Sunghoon chuckled, stretching the highlighter across the words on the textbook, “It has an S.H. and my last name on the back,” he glanced back up at you, “And you know, yeah, you wearing my jacket will bring good luck. You’ll be my good luck charm.” 

Sunghoon took notice of the slight blush on your cheeks, his smile growing more as he looked back to his textbook. 

God, she’s so cute. 

You tried to slow your heart rate. Why is he making you feel like this? 

“It’s getting kinda late,” Sunghoon’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, “Are you hungry? Want to grab a bite to eat? Then I can walk you to your apartment?”

You nodded. 

You weren’t sure what these butterflies in your stomach meant, but it made you feel guilty for even having them. 

—

It was game day and your nerves were all tied together in a knot. 

You took one last look at your outfit in your mirror, fingers twisting in the belt loops of your ripped skinny jeans, pulling them up further above your hips. 

Your college’s hockey team t-shirt had a small hole at the bottom of the shirt, which was to be expected. This was an old shirt and you haven’t worn it since the last game you attended…the night Sunghoon pushed you out of his life. 

Your black high-top vans looked like they’ve seen better days, but looked good with the outfit. 

Grabbing a hair tie from your vanity, you pulled your long hair back, wrapping the tie around it, just to pull it out right after.  

You tried different hairstyles, not liking a single one. 

Why do I even care how my hair looks? 

You settled for a ponytail, deciding it’s what matched the outfit better. 

The last final piece was Sunghoon’s jacket, pulling it over your shoulders. You turned around in the mirror, glancing back to see his initials on the back. 

“You’ll be my good luck charm.” 

You caught yourself smiling at the memory, bringing the hems of the jacket up to your nose, breathing in the smell. 

It still smelt like him, even after you’ve had it for the last couple of days. The familiar smell of blackberry and floral filled your senses. 

His scent brought you comfort, the knot of nerves unraveling and disappearing. 

While the nerves found their way out, other feelings crept their way in. 

Your heart raced faster, thinking about the smile on Sunghoon’s face he’d have when he saw you. 

The more thoughts of him that flooded your brain, the more guilty you felt. 

He’s your best friend’s ex…you can’t be thinking about and getting so giddy over him. 

You slapped your hands to your face, hoping it would be enough to kick those feelings out. 

Unfortunately, they didn’t. 

You sat down at your vanity, pulling open one of the drawers, revealing a photo booth picture strip of yourself, Sunghoon, and your best friend. 

You held the fragile paper in your hands, staring at each set of photos one by one. Eyes locking onto Sunghoon. 

You didn’t feel this way about him back then, so why now all of a sudden does he have your stomach tied in knots? 

His smile in the photos sent your heart racing. The way he was looking at your best friend, you couldn’t help but wish he looked at you like that. 

You quickly shoved the photo strip back into the drawer, slamming it shut. 

You stood from the chair, grabbed your phone and keys, and walked out of your room. 

By the time you showed up at the stadium, the opposing team and Sunghoon’s team lined up on each side of the rink doing their warmups. 

Your eyes searched for him, seeing the number 23 skating by quickly, him swinging the hockey stick, sending the puck flying into the goal. 

Even though it was just a practice shot, you clapped anyway. 

Sunghoon skated back into line, eyes wandering the crowd until he found you. Your smile sends butterflies in his stomach fluttering about. 

God, you look so good right now. The way your hair was pulled back, the way your thighs peeked out from the rips of your jeans, and how perfect his jacket looked on you. 

Sunghoon never let his ex wear that jacket, it was so special to him, so much that only he wanted to wear it. But it was so different with you. 

He gave you a wave, letting you know that he does indeed, know you’re here. 

The game finally started, and the butterflies did not calm down one bit. He had to do well in this game. He couldn’t disappoint you. 

Heeseung patted his back, “Calm down buddy, you’re our best player. Can’t have you tapping out on us.” 

Jay agreed, “This isn’t even the first game of the season, what’s got you so worked up all of a sudden?” 

“YN is here,” Niki, one of the only freshmen on the team, teased. 

Sunghoon shot the younger one a glare, “Brother, you don’t want to tease me right now.” 

Niki smirked, “Man, I know enough about your life and I barely have been on the team.” 

Jay slapped Sunghoon’s shoulder, “Just ignore the kid, he’s just a little silly.” 

Niki agreed, “Just a little bit.” 

Sunghoon waved his teammates off, “I am fine, my nerves have nothing to do with YN being here.” 

His friends looked at him with telling faces, they knew he was lying. Knew he was full of shit. But deciding to let it go. 

The game went on, each of the teams scoring left and right. 

You sat on the edge of your seat, hands clasped together at your chest. There were five minutes left on the clock, your team was only a point ahead. 

Your eyes followed Sunghoon on the ice, you could tell by his body language he was stressed. The way he stretched his arms out over his hockey stick behind his neck was enough to tell how absent-minded he was in this moment, the only thing he could focus on was getting one last point. Swinging his stick back down onto the ice, slightly bending over, ready for anything. 

Jay passed the puck to Niki, pushing the puck across the rink, Sunghoon positioned himself, screaming for Niki to pass the puck towards him.  

Niki passed it quickly to him. Sunghoon grabbed the puck, pushing his feet and legs as quickly as he could against the ice, the only thing on his mind was to keep the puck against the stick.

As he neared the goal, the goalie prepared himself for Sunghoon to make a shot. 

Sweat dripped down the side of his face, hands gripping tighter on the stick as he lifted it from the ice and puck. 

You stood to your feet, hands hovering over your chest, gripping at the fabric of your shirt. 

Sunghoon swung the stick using all the force possible and hit the puck, watching as the black disc flew across the ice. 

The world seemed to go in slow motion for Sunghoon, his eyes wide as the anticipation of waiting for the puck to reach the goalie, it sliding gracefully between the goalie's legs, the guy barely missing to stop it. 

Sunghoon pivoted, stopping his motion on the ice. His eyes locked onto the puck, confirming it hit the net. 

He turned his body towards his teammates, the world around him going back to normal speed. The crowd cheered, and his teammates surrounded him, slapping their hands against his chest, shoulders, and back. The clock hit its final second, the buzzer sounding. The game was over. We won. 

We won..!!

Sunghoon started screaming and cheering with his teammates, hands slapping them as they continued to slap him. 

You rushed down to the wall, the upper half of your body leaning over it, cupping your hands to your mouth, “Sunghoon!!!” 

He didn’t hear you over the screams of his mates and fans. But it felt as if he knew you were waiting for him. 

His eyes found you and started pushing past his teammates, sliding his helmet off and handing it and his stick off to Heeseung. 

Using what was left of his leg strength, he pushed himself towards you quickly. 

He stretched his arms up in the air, shouting, “WE DID IT!!” 

You couldn’t stop your smile from falling, not when Sunghoon looked as happy as he did at that moment. His fangs were on full display from how wide he was smiling. 

His body crashed against the wall, his gloved hands wrapping around your waist, connecting his torso to yours. 

His wet sweaty hair tickled your cheek as he pulled you into a hug. The first hug you’ve received from him since…well the breakup. 

You patted his back, leaning your head against his, “You played so well! I am so proud of you!” 

You’ve never gotten to tell him how exactly proud of him you were. For all the years you’ve known him, he’s always given his one hundred percent, but because of the past circumstances, you weren’t able to voice how proud you were of him, your best friend wouldn’t have allowed it. 

Hearing you tell him how well he did was enough to risk everything. It did something so deep to his heart that he couldn’t hide it anymore. 

It’s now or never Park Sunghoon, just do it. 

“I told you. I told you that you were my good luck charm,” he whispered in your ear, brushing his cheek against yours as he moved his head up. Brushing his nose against yours softly before moving in, pressing his lips against yours quickly. 

So fast that you didn’t have time to process it as his hands left your waist and he was skating backward away from you. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes stayed locked with yours. 

Your fingertips touched your lips, your ears blocking out all sound as the rest of your senses focused on the man in front of you. 

He kissed you…Oh my god, he kissed you!!! 

Sunghoon gave you a wink and said “Meet me by my car!” then turned back around, skating to his teammates, all of them huddling together. 

—

He pressed you up against his front door, using your body to completely shut it, his fingers flipping the lock as his tongue invaded your mouth, your brain going fuzzy. 

You met him at his car after the game and convinced you to have dinner with him and the team. 

You sat beside him in the booth at this fancy diner, his arm was wrapped around your shoulder, his fingers softly rubbing against your arm. Once the food arrived at the table, his arm went from being behind you to his hand resting on your thigh, his fingers sliding between the rips of your jeans, squeezing the plush skin. 

His touch was driving you crazy, and with your new emotions towards him, it made his contact with your skin make you hot and bothered. 

Sunghoon couldn’t keep his hands off you, and you liked it. Liked the attention he was giving you. 

Liked it so much that you didn’t even think twice when he drove right past the street of your apartment building and pulled into his apartment building. 

He held both your hands tightly, his smile so bright as he guided you up the stairs to his apartment. Soft laughs leaving his lips at just the thought of being with you. 

He was dying to kiss you again. Like properly kiss you. 

He wanted to kiss you so bad that the moment you were inside his apartment, his hands and body were pressed against yours, using his weight to push you against his door. Lips connecting to yours as if he were running out of oxygen and your lips were the sole source of air. 

His hands moved from your hips, sliding up your torso, fingers grazing against your breasts and up to your neck, hands cupping your jaw. 

You kissed him back forcefully, pushing your tongue between his lips, rubbing the muscle against his own, mixing your saliva. 

You tasted so sweet to him. He couldn’t get enough. 

Sunghoon went to pull away, wanting to attach his lips to your neck, but you weren’t ready for his lips to leave yours. 

You caught his bottom lip between your teeth, biting a bit harder than you expected. 

Sunghoon hissed out in pleasure, rolling his hips against yours, his clothed hard length pressing at your heat. 

You released his lip, his hands taking yours and lifting them above your head, pinning you against the door, his lips attaching themself to your neck, “Keep acting up baby and I just might have to punish you.” 

His words sent chills down your spine as he left open mouth kisses on your neck. Your imagination running wild at what these punishments would be, but being too afraid to test his limits. 

Sunghoon loved hearing the soft moans escaping your pretty little mouth. It was music to his ears. 

He placed his leg right between yours, using it to spread them further apart, giving him more access to press his cock against you. 

You were shaking, wanting to completely feel him against you, skin to skin. 

“Hoonie,” you whispered in his ear, “Please,” 

Sunghoon reached down, cupping the back of your thighs and lifting you up, wrapping your legs around him. His hands sliding to cup your ass, lips finding yours again. 

“Say less princess,” he mumbled against your lips as he carried you to his bedroom. 

He laid you down gently on his bed, his right hand stayed on your thigh, squeezing it tightly to keep it wrapped around him as his left hand flew to his shirt, fingers working their magic at the buttons. 

You became impatient, sending your hands to help undress him. 

You slid the fabric off his shoulders and down his arms, your fingers feeling every muscle as they traced down his skin and off his body. 

Your eyes took a moment to appreciate his body. You already knew he worked out, but good lord was his toned, buff body beautiful. 

Sunghoon kissed you again, his hands sliding his jacket off your body then finding their way under your shirt and up and over your head. 

He worked with the button of your jeans as you worked with his. 

He slid his jeans and underwear down together, leaving him completely bare to you.

His fingers looped between your jeans and panties, lifting your hips up as he pulled them off your body. 

“Fuck, YN,” he moaned out, hands snaking underneath you to unclasp your bra, your breasts falling to their natural place once the material was on the floor. His eyes looked your bare body up and down, before laying his body on top of yours, “You’re so beautiful.” 

Your fingers tangled in his hair when he kissed you again, your tongues dancing together in perfect rhythm, his hand sliding down your body and stopping at your thigh to pull it back over his waist. 

Sunghoon was completely turned on just by the skin-to-skin contact, by just feeling your pretty legs wrapped around him. 

He rolled his hips, rubbing his dick against your clit, his hand fumbling at his nightstand drawer for his box of condoms. 

You woke up that next morning with the sun shining through his bedroom window. 

Sunghoon had his head on your chest still fast asleep. 

His arm was wrapped around your waist, the bedsheets were tangled up between yours and his legs. His leg hung out from the sheets and they hung at his hips, his bare back exposed. 

Your heart raced at the site in front of you. 

Did this actually happen?? I am not dreaming?

Your hand touched his bicep, fingers softly moving up and down his arm. 

Sunghoon moved his head up, tucking it in your neck, arm tightening around you. He was still fast asleep. 

Guilt washed over you once again. You just had sex with your best friend's ex-boyfriend. She would kill you both if she knew what happened last night. 

Did you regret it? Absolutely not. The sex was perfect. Sunghoon is perfect. But that still didn’t stop the thoughts that it shouldn’t have happened. 

Would you do it again? Regardless of these thoughts? Also yes. 

Your relationship with Sunghoon was different now. You had deep feelings for him. And the fact that he kept inviting you over, inviting you to his practices and games, asking to see you after classes, and randomly showing up at your front door, proved enough to you that it wasn’t about the sex that night, that his feelings also ran deep for you too. 

Your coffee shop days were more intimate, instead of sitting across from each other, you’d sit beside each other. Hands locking together as you’d drink your coffees. 

He would be waiting outside your apartment door every single morning to drive you to class. 

You would cheer him on from the bleachers at every practice, and have dinner with him afterwards. 

The sex got more intense the more comfortable you both got. You saw a whole new side of Sunghoon in the bedroom. A side you never thought you’d ever see or even thought about seeing until recently. 

He explored every inch of your body, his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. Shoving his fingers in your mouth as he pounded into you from behind. Bruises were left on your hips from how his fingers would grip your skin. 

You got more bold too. From being his little submissive princess to a dominant queen. The way you’d jerk your hand up and down his cock sending his head flying back, body shaking from your touch as you straddled him. 

Sunghoon became a part of your daily life, just like he was all that time ago. 

You showed up to every game wearing his jacket, being that good luck charm you knew you were to him. Everything felt right.

—

Sunghoon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you down onto your couch with him, “Babe, cuddle me! I am touch starved!” 

You rolled your eyes at him, trying to wiggle your way out of his grip, “We just had sex, yet you’re still touch-starved?” 

“Obviously!” he nuzzled his face at the nape of your neck, hands gripping the hem of your shirt, “Let’s have sex again.” 

“Hoonie,” you giggled at the feeling of his lips kissing your neck, “You have practice in thirty minutes, you need to get ready soon.” 

Sunghoon groaned against your neck, but he knew you were right. 

Sunghoon went to propose skipping practice tonight but got distracted by your phone ringing, eyes darting over to it, being the nosey guy that he is, and seeing…his ex’s name on the caller ID. 

His smile faded, why would she be calling you?

You sighed at seeing your best friend's name on your phone, finger-hitting the decline. 

Calling her your best friend seemed pointless now. Right before things kicked off between you and Sunghoon, she found another boy toy to mess around with, completely ignoring you. You’ve also tried many times to hang out with her, to go by and see her at her job, to invite her over to do homework, to try and just hang with her when Sunghoon was busy, yet all she did was ignore you. So the fact she’s hitting you up now only means she needs something from you. And to say you were exhausted from it would be an understatement. 

Maybe it was karma for keeping your relationship with Sunghoon a secret from her. But you also knew you couldn’t tell her. At least not right now. 

You felt bad declining the call, deciding to shoot her a quick text saying you were busy in the shower and couldn’t answer the call just for her to reply saying it was fine, but was wanting the notes from class today and then sent a smiley face :) 

Sunghoon shook his head, “Please don’t.” 

You set your phone down, not responding to her, “Don’t what?” you knew the answer, but tried to play dumb anyways. 

“YN, stop playing this game with her, she’s using you.” 

You knew it was true, but hearing it come from his mouth didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. 

Sunghoon bit his lips in a way to keep himself calm. He hated that she was doing this to you. He saw firsthand how badly the breakup affected you too. You lost both of your best friends because of it. But the shitty part was you weren’t supposed to lose her, but you did anyway. She was supposed to stay by your side but didn’t. 

She abandoned you. Even after she promised him she wouldn’t. 

The secrets he wishes he could tell you in hopes of you cutting her off for good, but he couldn’t break that trust with her, even if she deserved it. 

The only thing he could do was try and convince you in other ways. 

“Baby,” he whispered, “Look at me.” 

You did, shifting yourself in his lap to face him. 

He tucked your hair behind your ears, “You deserve better than that. I know you love and care for her, and that she’s your best friend, but this friendship is toxic. All it is doing is hurting you.” 

You looked away from his chocolate eyes and to the floor, “I know.” 

Sunghoon pulled your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look back at him, “I don’t want you to hurt anymore, not just because of her, but because of me too. We both did some damage to you and I have to live with that. I am so fucking lucky you let me come back in your life. And well, I am not saying to completely cut her out of your life,” even though that is what he’s wanting, “but don’t do things like this for her anymore.” 

You nodded. He was right. The only reason you kept doing things for her no matter what they were was to keep her in your life. You kept holding onto a rope that was torn a long time ago. 

“Promise me,” he asked, holding up his pinky finger, “Please.” 

You wrapped your pinky tightly with his, sealing the promise. 

—

It was the final game of the season, if the boys win this game they move on to the championship. 

Sunghoon stood with you by the wall, his hands trembling in his gloves. 

He was nervous, scared even, it was written all over his face. 

“Sunghoon,” you saying his name always sounded so beautiful to his ears. He looks over to you, giving a nervous smile, “It’ll be okay. You’re one of the best damn players on this team. The championship is calling your team's name!” 

You could only hope your words were reaching him, helping make him feel better. 

Which it did. His hand stopped trembling just from your smile. You were his good luck charm after all. 

He slid his hand from his glove, cupping the side of your face, “I am the luckiest man alive to have you.” 

You leaned into his hand, his thumb rubbing against your skin. 

His couch blew the whistle for warm-ups to start. 

“Gimme a good luck kiss princess,” he said pulling you closer to him, “It’ll give me strength.” 

You giggled against his lips and pouted as he skated away, giving him a thumbs up. 

Little did you know, your “best friend” was sitting in the bleachers, watching the entire thing. 

The game went in a flash, Sunghoon once again scoring the winning goal. 

You jumped from your seat and pressed against the wall, arms stretched out and waiting for Sunghoon to embrace himself into you, his lips crashing against yours in celebration of his win. 

You stood at the end of the bleachers, eyes staring off down the hallway that led to the locker rooms, heart racing at wanting to see Sunghoon again, to be able to give him a proper hug for his win. 

“OMG! You came to the game too?!” 

Your heart sank at her voice, your friend connecting her shoulder to yours as she stood beside you. 

Your body tensed, “Y-Yeah, it was their last game so I came to support them.” 

“Hmmm,” she hummed, her hands flying to Sunghoon’s jacket, “Isn’t this Hoon’s?” She forced you around, seeing his name printed on the back. 

She knows she’s got to know.

She hummed again, “Why do you have his jacket, YN?” 

You shrugged, leaning back against the bleacher, “I was cold and he offered it to me I guess.” 

She crossed her arms, “He never let me borrow it, weird.” 

“I was freezing,” you tried to play it off, “You know how cold I can get sometimes.” 

She nodded, “That’s true,” her eyes darted down the hallway, “Since when did you and Hoon start hanging out again?” 

She definitely knows. 

You knew it was a matter of time before she found out, but you didn’t think it would be like this. 

You opened your mouth to speak, only for her face to light up with excitement and her hands clapping. 

The boys finally were leaving the locker room, “Here come our winners!” she said. 

Sunghoon was with Jay, the two of them doing their handshake and walking in separate directions, Sunghoon’s smile fading after looking in your direction. 

“OH EM GEE!!!” she squealed, grabbing your hand and rushing you both to meet Sunghoon halfway, “You are such a star Hoonie!” 

She wrapped her arms around Sunghoon’s neck, but he was quick to pull her off of him, “What are you doing here?” 

You were surprised how calm he was. 

“Am I not allowed to come and support you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. 

“You lost that right when we broke up.” he scoffed, “Why are you actually here?” 

She pouted, pulling you to her side, “I missed you guys, wanted us to rekindle and be a trio again.” 

Sunghoon could smell the bullshit radiating out of her mouth. 

Does this bitch think I am stupid?

“Rekindle?” he chuckled, “Rekindle what? Exactly?” oh he was pissed now, “Explain yourself. Now.” 

She let go of your arm, taking a step closer to him, “I miss you, Hoon.” She reached to touch his face, but he caught her arm with his hand, shoving it away from him. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

You didn’t know what to do or what to say, this fight didn’t involve you, it was something they had to settle. 

“Hoon,” she begged, “I want you back, please.” 

Sunghoon took a step back away from her, “Cut the bullshit.” 

She rolled her eyes, “What bullshit?!”

“I am in a relationship,” he spat out, “I am happy.” 

A laugh escaped her mouth, a laugh you’ve never heard her do before, “I know, I am not stupid,” she took a step back, wrapping her arms around you, “You’re fucking our sweet YN.” 

Sunghoon’s grip on his duffle bag tightened and his jaw locked. What the fuck was she trying to pull here?

She smiled, knowing she got you both where she wanted you to be, “The fact that you’re both quiet speaks volumes, lemme tell ya.” 

“What the fuck do you want?” he said through his locked jaw. 

“I want to know why,” she pulled a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I want to know why you both betrayed me like this. Why my ex-boyfriend decided it was okay to fuck my best friend, and why my best friend decided it was okay to fuck my ex.” 

Oh, she’s going there? Game on.

Sunghoon chuckled, “Best friend? Best friends don't abandon each other!”

“That’s rich coming from you,” she retorted.

“You abandoned her!!” he snapped. 

“So did you!!” she snapped back, “You walked away just as much as I did!” 

“I walked away because I cared about you! I cared about your feelings! You promised you’d stay by her side, not leave her to fight alone and use her for your own personal gain, that’s not a friendship!” 

“Oh, here we go,” she laughed, “It’s always about YN.” 

You wanted to speak up, to ask them what that meant, but before you could, Sunghoon was reaching for you. 

He’s heard enough. He’s HAD enough. He couldn’t let this conversation continue, not when she might spill everything. 

He pulled you to his side, pushing you in the direction towards the exit door, “YN, baby, let’s go.” 

“How long did you think you could hide? Hmm?” 

Both you and Sunghoon stopped walking. 

“I’ve known for a while now,” you turned and faced her, waiting for her to finish, “You think I wouldn’t notice? Wouldn't notice either of your cars at each other's apartments?” 

Sunghoon laughed, “So you’re stalking us now? That’s so fucking low.” 

“How could I not? Not after I saw the two of you leaving that diner downtown a while ago,” 

She’s known since the beginning.

“I thought maybe, at first, you two were just hanging out again. I minded my business. But then I thought, hmm, I should surprise visit YN. And I bet you could imagine my surprise when I pulled up to her apartment and saw your car parked there and her riding your dick on her couch.” your face flushed, embarrassed, “Maybe next time make sure your blinds are closed before fucking in the living room.” 

Sunghoon sighed, pulling you closer to him. He felt like shit because of all this happening to you. 

“This doesn’t excuse your shitty stalking behavior,” Sunghoon said. 

She shrugged, “I only caught you by coincidence at first, the second time surprised me too. The rest I had to ask around campus to find out.” 

Sunghoon was getting more pissed by the second, “YN doesn’t deserve this!!” 

“You’re so right!” she clapped her hands, “She does deserve better friends, I know. We were so shitty to her. But you know what she also deserves? The truth.” 

The…truth?

Sunghoon shook his head, “No, let’s go,” he tried pushing you toward the exit again, he wasn’t ready for you to hear what she was about to say. 

You forced Sunghoon off you, taking a few steps back towards her, “What truth do I deserve to know?” 

Mostly since Sunghoon seemed so set on me leaving just now. 

Your friend smirked, “The truth about the reason why we broke up in the first place.” 

Sunghoon snapped her name, “Keep your fucking mouth shut!” 

You look back at him, “What is so goddamn secretive?” 

Sunghoon sighed, his eyes dropping to the floor. 

You looked back at her, “Well??” 

“The reason we broke up was because of you.” she crossed her arms over her chest, eyes darting at Sunghoon. 

“Because of me?” You couldn’t wrap your head around why, “W-what did I do?” 

“You didn’t do anything, YN,” Sunghoon finally said. 

“Then…why…” 

“Because he’s in love with you,” you stood there frozen, “He confessed to me a few months before we broke up on how deeply in love with you he was.” she said snarky, “That he caught feelings for you early on into our relationship, but kept it hidden all those years until he couldn’t. The guilt ate him up. Plus I caught him practically eye fucking you at one of the last parties we all attended together.” 

You looked back at Sunghoon, his eyes glossed over. He’s been in love with you the entire time you’ve known him? 

“It’s truly sad, isn’t it?” your friend continued, “The night we fought, was me making him promise to never come near you again. Guess it worked for a while.” 

“Why would you promise that!” You yelled at him, “Why would you even agree to that?!” 

“Because I still cared about her!” Sunghoon shook his head, “I wanted to respect her wishes, I wanted to respect you! You had no feelings towards me whatsoever, and after the last couple shitty months of my relationship with her, I wanted you to heal and find peace with losing me, had I known she would also walk away from you, I would have never let you go.” 

“Why did you stay with her as long as you did if you wanted me?” It was a shitty question to ask, but you had to know. 

“Because I was already a shitty person for falling in love with my girlfriend’s best friend. I didn’t want to hurt either of you. So I kept my feelings hidden until they eventually overflowed to the point I couldn’t contain it.” 

With tears in your eyes, you stomped over to him, fists hitting his chest, “Why would you leave me then?! I needed you!” you cried it all out, releasing the frustration, and he just took it, “Do you know how lonely I was when you left? How terrible I felt watching you walk away that night? I lost part of my soul.” 

Sunghoon pulled you to him, “Baby I know and I am so fucking sorry I did that to you.” 

You cried into his chest, fingers gripping his shirt. Too many emotions were fighting you at all once. You were the sole reason your best friends broke up, how could you not feel like shit?

You pushed yourself off him, turning back towards your friend, “What is your excuse for leaving me?” 

Her facial expression tightened, “How could I have stayed? Every time I looked at you all I could remember was the fact that my boyfriend wanted you, not me.” 

Fair enough. But that was also such a shotty excuse. 

“Guess our friendship didn’t mean shit to you,” you scoffed, “A boy meant more to you than I did. Meant more than our lifetime of friendship.” 

She had nothing to say to that, just thinned her lips in a line, looking away. 

“I’ve heard enough,” you softly said, “Take me home, please Sunghoon.” 

He nodded, extending out his hand for you to take it, and you did. The two of you walking away.

“Enjoy my seconds, YN.” 

Oh, she did not.

Sunghoon beat you to running his mouth, “At least YN pleases me. You should see the mess she makes of me since you want to stalk us so bad.” 

You bit the insides of your cheeks to keep from laughing, was their sex life that bad?

Her face turned red you could practically see the smoke coming out of her ears, “Go to hell Sunghoon! It’s where you belong!” 

He chuckled, “Gladly, I’d give up every piece of heaven for YN.” 

She rolled her eyes, it was always about you. It’s always been you for him. 

“Oh and by the way,” Sunghoon added, “I know you cheated on me multiple times with Mark from calculus, way before I confessed my feelings for YN. So us breaking up wasn’t just because of her. Suck a dick.” 

Sunghoon wrapped an arm around you, a smirk on his face as you both listened to her yelling more nonsense. 

—

He drove you home and walked you into your apartment. 

“I really am sorry, YN.” Sunghoon wrapped you into his arms, “I never wanted to hurt you.” 

You cupped his face, thumbs wiping the tears that fell, “Don’t ever apologize, okay? You were caught in a situation.” 

“It’s no excuse,” he took your hands in his, “I love you, I always have. I shouldn’t have walked away.” 

You just nodded, standing on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his nose, “I love you, Park Sunghoon. You’re with me now, and that’s all that matters.”

It was true. He was so lucky to have you. To finally have you after waiting for you for so long. 

Thank god he decided to try that coffee shop out. 

“Was sex with her really that bad?” you asked, a giggle escaping. 

He laughed too, “Yeah, never came once.” 

“I guess that means I win in that department too since I make such a mess outta you,” 

Sunghoon bit his lip, sliding his hands to squeeze your waist, “Keep talking like that and I’ll ruin you.” 

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips then escaped his arms, running towards your bedroom, “Can’t ruin me if I make a mess of you first.” 

Sunghoon chased after you, his heart pounding at the happiness on your face. 

God, he really was the luckiest man alive.

Im so inlove with hwang sejun oml.

ONE OF THE GIRLS

📄 ◜ if mila and the boys never confessed their feelings to each other earlier.

ʬʬʬ. 2023 ( AU ) pairing. poly!ot7엔하 x (f)oc!member (ft. male!oc) req. enha seeing mila with someone who isn’t them cw. sexual themes (non-explicit), alcohol, unhealthy coping mechanisms, miscommunication/misunderstandings

BACK to LIBRARY ?! wc. 9.3k notes. i'm sorry for the rushed ending but it was difficult to end it in a way that wasn't yknow sad and it was getting too long TT [ extra. bonus scene for hwang sejun found here ]

MILA WAS SEVENTEEN WHEN SHE FIRST FELL IN LOVE. She was too young to know what it was, too inexperienced to do anything about it, but if there was anything she was certain of, it was that the warmth that filled her chest and the fluttering of her heart when she so much as looked at them could never be anything less than pure longing.

She was twenty when she finally realised she already knew what love was. And that was a problem. Because, you see, falling in love was normal; falling in love with seven men at the same time, however, was anything but.

Why do you do this to yourself? She thought miserably as she opened yet another compilation full of analysis on the interactions between her and her members – or rather, between her and the boys, specifically.

She recognised the clip playing on her phone. It was during an EN-O’Clock episode and featured the group laughing and having fun together as they played games arranged by the directors. It would seem like a harmless and wholesome moment shared by the group, if it weren’t for the fact that upon slowing it down and zooming in, one would be able to spot the exact moment where Heeseung raised his hand to pat the top of her head – only for his smile to suddenly dropped as he retreated, covering up his momentary slip-up by reaching to fix the hair of Riki who stood on Mila’s other side.

Then there was the painfully awkward moment during a livestream, where Mila was in the middle of Jake and Jay, laughing at something that Sunoo said. Jake was reading comments – trying to, anyway – when he suddenly froze, as if caught in the trance.

He stared at his phone in silence, missing the question that Kiara had asked the members. It was at that moment when Mila turned to look at him, silently questioning his distracted state, her leg brushing against his in the process. But the moment she did so, Jake flinched, as if caught doing something he shouldn’t have. He immediately shut his phone off, before moving his legs closer together so that their thighs were no longer touching.

It hurt. It hurt seeing just how hesitant they were around her, how cautious they were to avoid anything that could be read as intimate. Even more so when it got to the point where fans were taking notice of how distant they were compared to when they showered her with attention and affection during the early days of their career.

Mila shut her phone down, slamming it down next to her empty glass. “I’ll have one more,” she called out to the bartender across the bar, watching as he filled her glass to the top. In the dim lighting of the private bar, hidden away from the public eye, Mila closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting the burn of the alcohol as it trickled down her throat. 

She hated vodka, but it was the only thing strong enough to force down the bitterness of her lingering regrets. Mila slammed the empty glass back down onto the bench. I should have never said anything.

“You had something to tell me?”

Kiara had pulled Mila aside to their shared bedroom, a look of concern on the older woman’s face as she took in the fidgety gaze of Mila who stood before her. She only ever fiddled with her sleeves like that when she was nervous. By now, Kiara could read her like a book — and that made Mila feel both seen and exposed.

Mila swallowed nervously. She knew she could tell Kiara anything, and that the older female would never hold it against her. She played a role that Mila’s own mother had sometimes failed to do as she was growing up — the role of the confidant and counsel. Mila knew she could trust her with anything.

So why was she hesitating now?

Mila bit her lip. “I realised lately that I’ve been feeling… well I kind of have romantic feelings. But the thing is… “Well, my feelings aren’t really conventional. I’m scared that they’re going to make the others feel…”

Uncomfortable. Bothered. Disgusted.

“Well, okay, that’s fine. We can talk through it. You said that you like someone?” Kiara made a gesture with her hands. “That’s fine. I know that you don’t have much experience in this stuff, but that’s why I tell you I’m here if you need an ear. So what’s wrong?”

Mila took in a deep breath. “Well that’s just the thing— it’s not a ‘someone… it’s ‘someones,’ as in plural.” 

Kiara was stunned into silence, her lips parting into a soundless gasp.

Mila lowered her head. “I like— Actually… ‘love’ might be the better word for it; I somehow fell in love. And I know it’s… weird— but I can’t help it. No matter what I do, whenever I try and focus on just one of them at a time, it’s like the others find a way to make themselves known.”

“All of them?”

It didn’t take long for Kiara to guess who had stolen Mila’s heart. For three years she had noticed a dynamic growing between Mila and the boys that differed from that between the seven of them and Kiara. But she never could have expected this outcome. (And yet, at the same time, it all made sense.)

Mila nodded. “Eung… I love them all…”

Kiara opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the sound of something by the door that sounded like something being knocked over and hitting the floor. The two women exchanged glances at each other, before the elder hurriedly rushed to the door. Kiara threw it open. There, standing on the other side, were the men in question… all seven of them.

And judging by the looks on their faces, they had heard everything.

“Not a good night tonight?”

Mila raised her head from the cool surface of the bar, eyes lifting towards a familiar face. His handsome features were done justice by the sensual lighting of the bar, the shadows casted in such a way that his sharp contours of his face became all the more prominent. The sultry smile on his lips would have had the knees of any woman buckling under their weight. His silk black shirt was unbuttoned to give a sneak peek of his toned chest, tantalising like the honey which the colour of his skin resembled.

Mila sighed as she straightened in her seat. She moved her handbag from the chair next to her, wordlessly allowing the man to take a seat on it. “Was it that obvious?”

He chuckled, shaking his head in fond exasperation. He hummed deeply. Long and slender fingers all too familiar to Mila reached out to her, brushing strands from her face. She felt the cool touch of silver rings around his fingers as his hand cupped her cheek, raising her head to look him in the eye.

“You can’t hide anything in those pretty eyes of yours, doll,” he replied. He smirked as his thumb brushed against her lip. “I know you better than anyone here.”

And wasn’t that the truth?

It was difficult to believe that there could be someone out there who knew so much about her within the span of two months. Among her own group members, she struggled to open up to them about basic feelings until a year after their debut — even those such as Sunghoon, Heeseung and Jay, who she knew years before I-Land. Normally, she was a lot more guarded around strangers.

But Hwang Sejun was no ordinary stranger.

Mila didn’t mean to seek him out, to cross the line with him. But the night they met was the same night Mila had her heart broken — and just like now, she was looking for a way to forget. That was why she didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away when his lips came down to hers in a teasing brush of a kiss.

Mila lowered her head from where she sat on the couch, surrounded by her group members. 

“Is it true?” Jay whispered almost inaudibly as he sat on a chair at the kitchen table, watching the young woman with an unreadable look in his eyes. “What you said to Noona not long ago… Did you really mean it?”

Mila nodded. Heeseung sighed as he clasped his hands together, the dim lighting of the living room casting a show over his troubled expression.

And why wouldn’t he be? Mila didn’t know what he was thinking, but if the girl she had practically treated as a younger sister all these years took every act of kindness to be something more than platonic and even go as far as to profess her love for them, her world would tilt off axis too. Not to mention the fact that his six other members—friends—were on the list, too.

It was stupid of Mila to hope that there may be a chance for her to get a happy ending, with not one, but seven men. Maybe, a dark part of her whispered, maybe those ‘haters’ of hers were right after all. She could see the label plastering itself across her forehead: ‘Whore.’ In capital red letters.

“This isn’t something that will change our dynamic, will it?” their leader asked, after a painfully long silence. “It’s too sudden… I think we need to take a break to think for ourselves before we move forward with anything.”

It was the logical thing to do. Mila agreed. So did the others. But it felt like she was struggling more than they would—because, really, she cared more for them than they ever would. And as she found herself vsitting alone in the Hybe building, refusing to step foot before any of her members out of sheer embarrassment, that was when he found her.

The first time Mila met him, Sejun had crouched down in front of her, tilting his head at her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. 

“Not a good night tonight?”

Mila could feel the way Sejun’s eyes trailed the column of her throat, felt the way his long fingers brushed against the skin as if wanting to wrap them around her throat like he had done however many nights ago. Mila looked up at him, eyes glassy and lips parted. 

“What are you going to do about it?” she asked quietly, leaning towards him.

Sejun let out a breathy chuckle. “I’ll make it better.”

And he would. He always did.

Sejun was no good for her. He went through women almost as fast as he smoked cigarettes; he partied hard, and fucked even harder. He couldn’t be vulnerable, couldn’t be gentle, couldn’t love Mila the way wanted to be loved… He was exactly the type of man she was always warned to stay away from.

But he was here. And even if it wasn’t any coincidence that he was always here when she wanted to be held, she fell into his arms anyway.

Sejun moved his hand to the back of her neck, pressing his lips against her hairline in a soft kiss. “Come on, princess,” he mumbled against her skin, and Mila tried not to think of the fact that Sunghoon used to call her the exact same thing. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Mila didn’t protest, following the older man as he led her by the wrist.

(As the saying went: if you want to get over someone, get under someone else.)

“Won’t your members be worried if you’re out this late?” Sejun tilted his head as he sat down next to the crying girl. “It’s not exactly safe for a pretty girl like you to be alone. There could be bad men around who will want to take advantage of you.”

Mila sniffled, hugging her knees closer to her chest. She looked like a corner animal, hiding away from a prowling tiger, eyes looking warily at the man beside her. She knew of him—how could she not? He was the man every woman wanted to be with, and every man wanted to be. But she had only encountered him once before. She was walking around with Heeseung in the Hybe building when they bumped into Sejun, the older man greeting Heeseung familiarly. 

‘Ah, Heeseung-ah, long time no see!’ he said with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘Yah… Look at you, all grown up. Last time I saw you, was…. What? Before I-Land? You’ve gotten tall!’

Heeseung bowed to him and forced a smile. ‘Thank you, sunbae. It’s nice to see you,’

‘Aye, what’s with that tone? You should just call me hyung, like you used to.’ Sejun chuckled and clapped the younger man on the shoulder, eyes glinting with amusement when the younger eyed the hand with an unreadable look. But then Sejun’s eyes drifted over to Mila, who hid behind Heeseung, fingers grasping at his sleeve, and wide doe eyes peering over his shoulders curiously. ‘Oh– this must be your dongsaeng, right? Mila? I hear a lot about you.’ He leaned down to Mila’s height and smiled. ‘You’re even cuter in real life… like a bunny.’

Heeseung suddenly stiffened up, before stepping in front of Mila protectively, a stony look on his face. ‘Sorry, sunbae, but we have somewhere to be. Hope you have a good day.’ Heeseung gave a half-hearted nod of his head before quickly ushering Mila way with an arm around her shoulder. When they were out of earshot, he leaned down to whisper into her ear, ‘Be careful of him,’ he had told her. ‘If he comes up to you when you’re alone, let me or the others know, okay?’

Mila looked over her shoulder towards the actor one more time, to see him watching them leave, a sly smile on his face, his hands in the pockets of his pants. He shot her a wink, and Mila hastily looked away. As the good dongsaeng she was, eager to please, she had nodded obediently, not even questioning Heeseung’s warnings. It was just him being protective, she concluded. And she didn’t have any plans of disobeying him in the past.

But… he wasn’t here right now, was he? And she didn’t think she wanted to call him after what happened earlier tonight.

“What about you?” Mila asked. “Are you one of those bad men you mentioned?”

Sejun let out a hearty laugh, not offended in the slightest from Mila’s accusation. “Is that what your ‘Heeseungie-oppa’ told you?”

Mila almost shook her head, almost admitted that, no, he hadn’t told her anything of the sort—hadn’t even mentioned him ever since they first bumped into each other. But she didn’t get the chance before Sejun was leaning down so his face was only a few centimetres away from hers. A wolfish smile crossed his face.

“That’s right. So you should be careful, little bunny. Or else, I might gobble you up.’

Sejun playfully gnashed his teeth in a biting motion, causing Mila to blink at him dumbfoundedly. Seeing her expression, he laughed. And all of a sudden, Mila wasn’t so sad anymore. She was curious, instead. She wanted to know more about this man who she had been told to stay away from.

There was no need to fear playing with fire when she was already burnt.

Ignoring his feelings was the hardest thing that Sunoo could ever be asked to do. He was an idol, playing a part was what they did. But it was difficult to keep up the act when he had to watch the woman he loved grow further and further away.

“You look nice.”

Sunoo snapped out of his thoughts to see Riki standing against the doorframe to the bathroom, his arms across his chest. As he walked closer, he realised why. The younger male was watching as Mila applied makeup in the mirror, wearing her favourite black and white dress from Dior with a pearl choker. She smiled at Riki through the reflection, a soft thank you escaping her glossy lips. 

“What’s the occasion?” Riki tilted his head, long locks falling over his forehead before he pushed them back. “Are you going out?”

Mila hummed. “Just to see a friend.”

“He’s right. You look pretty.” Mila smiled. Sunoo looked her up and down, foxy eyes gleaming with interest. “But you usually don’t go anywhere fancy with the girls…”

Mila and her friends were the type to enjoy cute cafes and shopping dates at the mall, just anything that gave them a sense of normalcy. They were too carefree to be interested in anything to do with high society or flaunting wealth, yet Mila stood here looking ready to walk the red carpet.

“It’s a different friend,” Mila replied. “We’re meeting at the company and then going to dinner at a new Italian restaurant.”

“Oh.” Sunoo nodded. “Do we know them?”

Mila cleared her throat. “Um, well, kind of? You know of them, but you haven’t met…”

Sunoo and Riki nodded in understanding. So it was another idol, then? Shrugging his shoulders, Riki leaned off from the doorframe, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “Are you done yet? I wanted to go for a walk, so I’ll drop you off along the way.”

“Ooh, I’ll come too!” Sunoo said. “I need to go by the convenience store anyway.”

Mila blinked. “You don’t have to.’

Sunoo frowned. It wasn’t like Mila said that she didn’t want them to go with her, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia. He remembered when they first debuted, and the three of them had formed a bond stronger than steel. They were the golden trio, the three msuketeers; the sun, stars, and moon…

That was why it was so easy to nice that the three of them had drifted apart. They used to watch and mock popular dramas together and hide under the blankets of Mila’s bed while hiding snacks that they brought without the manager’s permission. But now it was like a wall was between them, one that Sunoo and Riki couldn’t climb, because Mila had refused to even give them a ladder.

And what was worse was that Sunoo couldn’t even complain about it. Because he was part of the reason it happened.

Jay paced in the living room, where the seven male members had gathered following the events of Mila’s unwilling confession. They sat there in silence, unable to say anything after they had rejected her, and she left the dorms in need of space. 

“So are we just going to ignore what happened?” Riki asked. “Mila just admitted that she liked all of us. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

Heeseung sighed. “Riki-yah, not now please.”

“Then when?” Sunoo crossed his arms over his chest. “Isn’t now the perfect time?”

Sunoo couldn’t remember the first time he realised his feelings for Mila. It just felt so natural, that it didn’t even strike him as a surprise. And somehow, the same feeling applied when he learnt that his other members felt the same way towards her.

It felt like Mila was the only one who didn’t realise the true extent of their feelings for her. The way they would do anything and everything in the world if he asked, not because she was their precious co-member, or because they felt obligated by duty to coddle her since she was the youngest female  of the group, but because they loved her wholeheartedly and wanted nothing more than to the the ones to cherish and protect her.

But the love that they had for each other was strong as well. They were friends, who had survived through the highs and lows of I-land together and continue to grow closer after they debuted. They weren’t the type to fall into competition or conflict with each other if they knew it would hurt the other, whether it was for Mila or anyone else.

They were willing to put aside all their feelings for the sake of the group. They were willing to hold their own remorse if the day ever came where Mila would develop feelings for one of them. But they never would have expected this outcome.

“It was too sudden,” Jungwon said grimly. “We never planned this, and it wouldn’t be good to jump into something without being sure.”

“What would we even do?” Sunghoon asked. “Even though she feels the same way, what happens next? We can’t all date her.”

Jake licked his lips in thought. “Can’t we? It’s not like it’s not a new thing. If we’re okay with it, it can’t be considered cheating. So why not give it a shot?”

“You mean a polyamorous relationship?” Jay took a seat next to Sunghoon, who bit the inside of his cheek at the thought. “No shame or whatever, I know it’s something that exists…. But there’s seven of us. And I know some of us aren’t really the type to ‘share.’”

Jay didn’t mention it, but he himself was included. He knew Sunghoon and Jungwon were as well. They were too jealous, too possessive to even entertain the thought. Even now, fans would pick up all the instances where the three of them would grow tense whenever one of their own members got too close and comfortable with Mila—much less any male idol that wasn’t part of the group.

If that was how they were now, they couldn’t even imagine how they would make Jake’s suggestion work. 

“No,” Heeseung refused strongly. He would do anything just to be able to call Mila his. But the risk involved with this was too right. “If we decide after getting together that it’s not going to work, we’d just hurt Mila by giving her hopes and crushing them again. We can’t.”

Sunoo laughed humorlessly. “I’m not sure if you noticed, hyung, but she is already hurt as it is.”

Heeseung froze, his posture rigid.

The room was silent.

There was nothing they wanted more than to be able for in out of here and comfort her, because after what happened tonight, they had already broken a promise that they had made to the closer thing she had to an older brother in her life— her older cousin, who they met once when he flew over from China as soon as the borders opened. The one who had been the only strong male figure in her life after her parents divorced and her grandfather passed away.

‘I’ve seen how you look at her,’ he had said. ‘And to be honest, I don’t know what to feel about it… But I can tell you really care about her. So I’m trusting her to you. I won’t give you the shovel talk or anything, because she’s old enough to make her own decisions. Just, whatever happens… Don’t make her cry.’

“This is for the best,” Heeseung said, clenching his fist. “This way, no one gets hurt worse than they already are.”

Heeseung was wrong, Riki thought as he stood in the company lobby with Sunoo and Mila. Because after finding out the reason Mila had been so reluctant to let him and Sunoo accompany her, there was nothing that hurt more than this.

They were three steps into the lobby of the company, before Mila was turning to them with a smile. “Well, there is my stop. You guys can head off now and do what you need to do. My friend should be here soon.”

Riki frowned. “We should at least wait with you until they’re here.”

“It’s not good to be alone, even if it’s in the company building,” Sunoo agreed. “There’s still weird people who can get in here and go after you when you don’t expect it.”

Mila opened her mouth to protest. But before she could, someone else cut in before her. “They’re right, you know.”

Mila froze at the voice. Riki and Sunoo looked confused at the new arrival, but bowed in respect for their senior. “Hello, sunbaenim.”

Riki recognised his face from a few dramas that he had watched with Mila and Sunoo, but this was the first time seeing him in real life.

Hwang Sejun laughed, putting his hands into the pockets of his pants, his Bulgari watch flashing under the light of the lobby. “No need to be formal. Any friend of Mila’s is a friend of mine.” 

Riki and Sunoo turned to Mila, the latter mouthing to her in disbelief. ‘You friend is Hwang Sejun?’

“It’s finally nice to meet you,” Sejun said with a charming grin. “Mila’s told me all about you.”

Mila frowned, nudging Sejun in the ribs. The things she told him about her members were all in drunk rambles, where she spilled her heart to the older man about her hopeless feelings. To his credit, he hadn’t shamed her in the slightest, instead comforting her by mentioning he too had been in a similar position once. (She doubted it was the same type of ‘love’ Mila felt, but she gave him the benefit of the doubt—just as she always did, for the sole fact that he was willing to help her in the only way he knew how.)

“Did she?” Sunoo asked, narrowing his eyes as Sejun’s hand found its way onto Mila’s waist. “She never mentioned anything about you, though.”

“Aww, didn’t you mention me to your members, doll? But we have such a special relationship.”

Mila swatted the man’s hand as he attempted to pinch her cheek. “Don’t say that. They’ll misunderstand.”

Riki bit the inside of his cheek, a pit forming in his gut at the tone and the nickname that Sejun used. He kept his glare on the older male, subconsciously standing to his full height. The two of them were eye to eye. But while Riki was tense, Sejun was relaxed, not the slightest bit intimidated by the younger male. 

“What relationship?” Riki asked.

Sejun laughed. “I think Mila should be the one to tell you. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Sunoo took a sharp breath at the endearment, and Mila instantly panicked.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s just joking around. We’re just friends, right, oppa?” Mila forced a smile as she looked at her members. Riki and Sunoo weren’t ready to finish the conversation, but Mila seemed like she wanted nothing more than to end it. So she was grabbing Sejun’s arm in hers (her members’ eyes flickered to the way she held it, like she would usually—or rather, used to—hold theirs) before dragging him away. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Wait,” Riki tried to go after the two, but was held back by Sunoo.

“Don’t,” Sunoo said. But his eyes narrowed as he watched Mila drag the man away, not missing the way he quickly leant down to kiss her on the cheek when they turned the corner.

Right, Riki thought, as he watched them with clenched fists.

He wasn’t her boyfriend, and he wasn’t even her senior. He was just another friend to her, who had no right to feel jealous—because he had a chance and missed it.

Mila froze at the door of the dorms, her hand lingering on the door knob. What did she even say? She didn’t think she could be any more humiliated tonight, but coming back to the dorms after rushing out in tears was the second most embarrassing token that could have happened.

She could only hope that the others weren’t still awake yet. But that hope immediately dwindled as soon  as the door opened, revealing Heeseung on the other side.

Mila should have known he would wait up for her. But she wished he hadn’t, because it only reminded her of why he loved him so much.

“You’re back?” Heeseung said, his voice fragile.

Mila simply hung her head and brushed past the older man as he held the door open, not wanting to let him see the tear streaks on her face. She clenched her fists, pulling on her sleeve as she shuffled awkwardly into the silent dorms.

“Everyone else is asleep,” Heeseung said.

“Okay.” Mila sniffled. “I’ll head to bed now.”

“Wait.”

Mila froze at the sound of Heeseung’s voice.

“About tonight…” Heeseung took a step forward, but then stopped, as if he were scared of getting too close. At that moment, all Mila could think about was if she just ruined her friendship with her members because she couldn’t keep her feelings to herself.

Heeseung clenched his hand into his fist when Mila turned to face him. All he wanted to do was to work up to her and bring her to his chest. To tell her how much he loved her, to let her know he wanted nothing more than to be hers. But he couldn’t.

“Sorry,” Mila whispered, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that—” Heesejng had to physically hold himself back from running to her, to tell her that hearing her feelings for him made him the happiest man alive. “It’s just… we can’t love you the way you deserve.”

They weren’t prepared to face the challenges of loving her together.

Mila nodded. “I understand. And I—I really am sorry… I—” Mila let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry. I’ll just go to bed now. Good night.”

Heeseung felt his heart shatter as Mila turned and walked away from him, shutting herself in her room. The sound of Kiara’s voice was barely heard from the room, and Heeseung was grateful that she was there to comfort Mila when he couldn’t.

In the other rooms, where the five remaining members were still awake, wide awake as they listened to Mila's muffled sobs through the silence of their once vibrant home.

Sunoo sniffled, unable to sleep when his other half was hurting. 

“It shouldn’t have to be this way,” he said.

But what else could they do? 

“You’re late.”

Mila almost jumped out of her skin when she walked into the Enhypen dorms at four o’clock in the morning, to see one Park Jongseong sitting on the couch, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes red from what Mila would assume was lack of sleep. She paused in the middle of taking off her shoes, looking like a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Mila should have expected that this would happen. Jay was always the first one to wake up in the morning aside from Kiara; and it was just her rotten luck that he got up earlier than usual. Or maybe, not a coincidence at all. (She briefly  wondered if Sunoo and Riki had reported her meeting with Sejun, after all, and he had been waiting for her to get home from her outing, like the overprotective member he was.)

There was a moment of silence where the two of them continued to stare at each other, a silent question lingering in the air. Where were you?

“I was out with a friend.”

“Until two in the morning?” Jay asked tensely.

Mila pursed her lips. There really was no way she could explain this in a way that would calm the older man’s temper. He was one of the most patient with Mila, and rarely ever raised his voice at her. So people would be surprised to hear that he was second to Kiara when it came to scolding her, like he was now.

(She tried to push down the feeling in her gut that always appeared whenever he was upset with her, because she wanted nothing more than to be the reason he smiled instead.)

“Do you have any idea how worried we were when we saw that you weren’t here?” he continued. “And that you weren’t answering your calls?”

Shit. Mila hadn’t even thought to check her phone, since she had gotten used to being gone unnoticed. She reached for it, opening it to see a number of missed calls from several familiar contacts. And it was then when she realised what Jay said. She furrowed her brows. We?

At that moment, Jungwon walked out of the bathroom, causing Mila to hold her breath. He was wearing his hood over his head and didn’t say anything as he walked towards where she and Jay were. But the look on his face spoke volumes. “I was the one who woke up Jay-hyung,” he said, biting the inside of his cheeks. “I woke up in the middle of the night to get a drink and noticed your light was still on inside your room. So I went to see if you were okay… but then I noticed you weren’t there.”

Mila bit her lip. She had always been so careful, but one mistake was all it took to get caught. “That’s right. Okay. I left without saying anything, and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you and got you worried. But I just wanted to get out of the dorms for a while.”

“And you couldn’t do that during the day?” Jungwon asked.

“Kiara-unnie goes out during the night as well,” Mila replied. “I don’t see why this is different.”

“Kiara-noona is different because at least we know she’s with people who will take care of her if anything happens. But we don’t know where you were, or who you were with.” Mila opened her mouth to speak, but Jay cut her off. “And don’t use one of your friends as an excuse. We called them too. None of them knew where you were either.”

“Well… I have plenty of friends you don’t know about.” Mila straightened her stance. “And I trust him, so there is no reason for you to worry. Thanks for looking out for me, really, but I’m a grown woman, I don’t need you to do that anymore.”

Jay and Jungwon had flinched slightly, as if those words in particular struck a chord within them. And maybe it did, because Mila had meant to say, ‘I don’t need your overprotectiveness,’ it was dangerously close to sounding like, ‘I don’t need you.’

And she didn’t at the time how much that hurt for them to hear.

Jay stood from his seat as Mila tried to walk away, posture stiff.  “Wait—‘him?’”

Mila almost cursed for having accidentally let that slip, only to rebuke her own thoughts. Why did it matter, if she were with a man or a woman, or how long they spent out together?

“That’s right.”

“You can’t just say that and expect us to be okay,” Jay muttered quietly.

“And why not? What’s it to you, if I was with a man, a friend, or a lover?“

There was a sharp inhale from Jay at the last word. A small part of Mila hoped that he would tell her that she didn’t need to find someone else to fill the void left by him and the others. That he was more than happy to take his rightful place in her heart, and allow her to enter his. And she didn’t know, but he felt the same way.

Because I love you, he wanted to say. And I could love you just as much as he could and more.

But he didn’t say a word. He simply clenched his fists, his shoulders tense.

“That’s right. It doesn’t matter. It shouldn't matter. Because we’re friends, and nothing more.”

Mila wasn’t going to stay as the girl with the one sided love—she refused to. She wasn’t going to put everything on hold for a slight chance that the ones she loved might be able to love her back. If this was what it took to move on, then that was what she would do.

Mila started to walk away, but a hand on her wrist stopped her leaving.

She looked up at the owner. “Yang Jungwon—”

“Was it Hwang Sejun?”

Mila felt all the air in her lungs rush out at the sound of Jungwon’s voice. His dark eyes bore into her, and she suddenly was reminded of the fact that he was no longer the young lovesick puppy that would follow her around when they were trainees.

She looked at Jay, and didn’t see any traces of confusion. So Riki and Sunoo told the others about earlier today, after all. 

“Right. Sunoo and Ni-Ki told Jungwon, and he told me. But the others still don’t know,” Jay said. “We thought we’d ask you first, to see if it was true.”

“Can he treat you better than we can?” Jungwon asked, snapping Mila out of her thoughts with the weight of his question.

Mila’s throat tightened. No, she wanted to say. No man on Earth could ever treat me better than you do. And no matter who came after me, I would still choose you. But she didn’t want to lay her heart bare to anyone again; she didn’t want to get hurt.

So she lied.

“Yes.” A flash of emotion reflected in Jungwon’s eyes. His fingers loosened their grasp, and Mila shook his hand off. “He can. So next time I’m gone, don’t worry about me. He’ll be able to take care of me just fine if anything happens.” She forced a smile. “And you can forget about what happened with my feelings. I know it put you in a difficult position…. So I promise to get rid of them.”

She didn’t stay to see their reaction, no matter how curious she was. In the end, she knew it was better this way: if they thought she had moved on, maybe they wouldn’t avoid her any more. Maybe, they could all go back to normal.

“Wait, Mila.”

Jay rushed after Mila as she walked towards the door of the dorms with the intention to leave. But something held him back. An invisible string tugging him backwards.

When Mila opened the door, Sejun was standing on the other side, holding up a familiar bag.

Mila froze. Jay and Jungwon were silent. Sejun looked between the three of them, before raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, sorry,” he said. “Did I interrupt something?”

There was once a time when Mila felt like there was no other place she could call home, except wherever it was her members were. But she would be blind not to notice that the home she had been building from the last few years wasn’t crumbling down.

When did she first start to feel so out of place in the one place she thought she truly belonged?

“Good job on today’s filming!” 

After bowing to the staff and giving her appreciation for their hard work, Mila found herself standing on the sidelines as she watched her male members interact with the woman in the midst—someone who wasn’t her or Kiara.

They were in the middle of shooting the concept trailer for their new comeback, and rather than using one of the female members as an actress for Sooha, the company hired someone else instead. She was a petty model under the company label, the same age as Mila. And perhaps that was why it stung so much when she watched them fawn over her like they used to do to her.

“Do you need help?” Sunghoon asked.

He held a hand out to the actress as she needed to stand from the snowy blanket that she sunk into when she fell over. The girl smiled charmingly, taking his hand like a princess would do to her prince. It left a bitter taste in Mila’s mouth. Because she recalled when she used to be called their princess, instead.

The actress suddenly slipped, causing the others to act fast. They all held out their hand on reflex to stop her from hurting herself, with Jake’s leaning on her back to help her stabilise her balance.

“Woah,” he laughed, “be careful.”

Mila couldn’t remember the last time they were so carefree around her. It felt like they were constantly drawing a line—one so thick they couldn’t even smile at her before they stepped back.

But there she was, watching them laugh with another girl without a care in the world.

“Come on,” Kiara said, breaking her out of her thoughts. “The director wants us.”

Mila frowned. It took her too long to rip her eyes from the sight, but even when she did, she could still see their wide smiles like they were tattooed in her head—smiles no longer aimed towards her.

“What do you usually do when you’re sad?” Mila asked Sejun that night. “Or when something really shitfy happens to you at work?”

Sejun hummed thoughtfully. “I drink… or I fuck. One or the other—sometimes even both.”

Mila scoffed. But even so, she found herself looking at the older man with a glint of curiosity. “Does it work?”

Sejun shrugged. “Sometimes.”

Mila asked again. “Would it work for me?”

Jake hated waking up early in the morning. But if there was one thing he hated more, it was the sight of the stranger standing in the middle of the living room—a man who he had never met before, but who Mila was very familiar with.

“Who are you?” he asked.

Mila looked at him, and he felt his heart squeeze when she bit her lip and looked away, tugging at the stranger’s sleeve. It was just another reminder that he was no longer someone she looked to when she wanted to smile. A reminder that they no longer had those ‘friendly’ dates where he would take her out to dinner, and she would peck him on the cheek as thanks.

“He was just leaving.” Mila pulled on the man’s sleeve again. “Thanks for dropping off my bag. You can go now.”

Jake narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Why would he have her bag?

“Why so quick to make me leave? I haven’t even introduced myself yet.” The man smiled, and Jake had to admit he was good-looking—which was yet another reason why he felt a prick of envy, and a tiny bit of insecurity. “I’m Hwang Sejun, nice to meet you.”

The man held out a hand to shake Jake’s. For a second, he felt that this ‘Sejun’ looked incredibly familiar. And that was when it hit—he was an actor in one of the dramas Mila had shown him a preview of, back before they got into this weird state of limbo.

Jake took his hand. “I’m Jake.”

Sejun smirked. “I know.”

Mila’s eyes flickered to Sejun and sighed. “Really, now’s not a good time. It’s way too early, and I want to get some sleep.”

“Right.” Sejun smiled at Mila charmingly. “I kept you up pretty late last night, didn’t I?”

Jake’s hand subconsciously tightened around Sejun’s hand. What was that supposed to mean? 

It wasn’t that Jake was innocent or naive. He had his fair share of girlfriends and kisses, and a few nights where he woke up hot and bothered. He also knew of the reputation that Sejun had. And it bothered him more than it should—-especially when he wasn’t even her boyfriend.

“Thanks for dropping off our Mila’s things, but it’s not a good time for us.” Jay sounded very calm, unlike what he was probably feeling inside. “Do you mind dropping by at another time?”

Or not at all, went unsaid.

“Ah, sorry. I just thought I should meet you guys first.” Sejun smirked at the way Jungwon bit the inside of his cheek. He pried his hand from Jake’s tightening grip, before shaking his hand nonchalantly. He faced Jungwon. “You’re the leader, right? Ah… but I should probably introduce myself to your oldest first. Where’s Heeseung?”

Mila glared, and Jake felt a tiny bit of satisfaction. “Heeseungie-oppa is asleep. Don’t bother him.”

Sejun didn’t get to speak when a new voice entered the conversation. 

“Why do you want to know?” Sunghoon walked into the living room, arms crossed over his chest as he sized up the new face in their dorms. “And what are you doing inside our home?”

Riki and Sunoo—likely having heard the commotion—followed closely after Sunghoon. Jake noticed a light of recognition, and wondered if they knew what the relationships between Mila and Sejun was.

To his credit, Sejun didn’t seem at all intimidated by the five men around him. “Well, I figured I should get along with you guys, considering my relationship with ‘your’  Mila.”

‘Your Mila.’ It sounded like a taunt, and from the cocky tilt of his lips, Sejun definitely meant it as one. Jake would admit that it got to him, too, because it wasn’t true. Mila wasn’t his—wasn’t any of theirs—and neither were they hers.

And nothing scared him more than the fact that he could lose her forever.

The room was tense. Sunghoon squared his shoulders as he glared at the older. “What do you mean by that?” His eyes then fell on Mila, who looked like she would rather be anywhere but here.

“What's he to you?”

Mila looked annoyed, her usually gentle features fixed in a scowl. “None of your business.”

Sunghoon obviously didn’t like her answer, considering the way he tensed his jaw, fist clenching and unclenching in his nervous tick. But Mila couldn’t care less.

Who was he—who were they—to demand who Sejun was to her? Who were they to seem so affronted by the fact that she could possibly be in a relationship with another man? They made it clear already that they didn’t intend to return her feelings, and that even a friendship with her was hard to maintain with the way they avoided all contact with her like she had the plague.

Mila was getting sick of all this male ego and testosterone. Sejun didn’t help her with his smug expression and his arm over her shoulder.

“Ah,” he said. “Well, it looks like you have something to sort out between you… So I’m just going to go ahead and leave.” He smiled down at Mila. “See you later, okay, princess?”

Sunghoon glared as Sejun leaned down to peck her cheek. Mila rolled her eyes, shrugging off his arm from her shoulder. It was just like him to try and rile up the others for his own entertainment. And she would have given him a firm rebuke if it weren’t for the fact that she was upset with them too.

“We won’t see you out,” Sunoo said.

Sejun laughed. “Thought so.”

Mila didn’t wait for the door to shut before she was already marching to her room, ignoring the way Sunghoon followed hot on her heels until he slipped between her and the door, barring her entry.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Mila asked with a shaky voice.

Sunghoon could go on and on about what was wrong with him. It drove him crazy every day that he wasn’t able to hold her the way he wanted to, that he couldn’t wake up to his face as she lay in his arms; or that he wasn’t able to kiss her until both their lips were swollen, that he wasn’t able to whisper ‘I love you’s into her ears before they fell asleep at night…

The thought that someone else might be able to do those things–to shower her with affection and attention–was enough to send him over the brink of sanity. Loving her seemed to be the only thing that was right; but he still managed to mess that up because he couldn’t stand the fact that he wasn’t the only one in her heart.

He couldn’t say that, though. He couldn’t express everything he felt so simply. So all he could manage to say was, “Do you love him?”

Mila had enough. God, she hated that she was so emotional. But this was just too unfair.

It was fine that they didn’t love her; it was fine that they couldn’t accept her feelings for them. But why did they have to act so jealous? It frustrated her. Because it made her heart hope that there was a chance that they could feel the same way for her that she did.

But that couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. Or they wouldn’t be here to begin with.

“You– seriously what is wrong with all of you…?” Mila took in a deep breath, before turning to the rest of the men, who were still in the living room. She let go. “No, I don’t love him. And no, he’s not my boyfriend.” Relief crossed their faces, but she wasn’t done with them yet. “He’s just someone I’ve been sleeping with whenever I feel alone or miserable, because I couldn’t get over my stupid feelings for you!”

Mila heard a small gasp, but she didn’t know who it was from. Her eyes were too blurry with tears to see.

“Do you have any idea how crappy it feels? All I want to do is forget about my feelings so that we can all go back to how we were—but all you do is give me mixed signals that mess with my head!”

Mila swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Why are you acting like it hurts all of a sudden if I’m with someone else? You have no idea what it’s like to love someone who doesn’t even look your way. You have no idea what I feel whenever you ignore me, but smile at other girls like everything is okay. And—and I’m sick of chasing after you like some lovesick idiot because I can’t move on because—”

Mila never got to finish what she was saying, because the next thing she knew, she was being spun around, and Sunghoon’s hands found their way onto her cheeks, before pressing his lips firmly against hers. Her eyes widened at the feeling of his desperate kiss, her ability to breathe complete stolen from her. But a swarm of butterflies erupted in her stomach, flying their way into the chambers of her chest, where they settled among her widely racing heart.

Her legs grew weak, and she almost fell to her knees as Sunghoon pulled back, his dark eyes gazing into hers. 

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” Sunghoon replied.

“But you—” Mila swallowed. “You don’t… I thought you didn’t…”

The dorm was quiet. And for a second, it felt like no one had the words to say. But right then, all of a sudden, they heard the voice of the eldest coming from down the hallway. Mila looked at Heeseung, whose eyes held a mixture of longing and regret as he walked up to Mila.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “This was my fault.” He looked at the others. “I said we shouldn’t get too close to you, because we didn’t want you to get hurt… and because we didn’t even know what to do with our own feelings.”

Mila shook her head, clearly still dazed from the kiss. “No. That’s not… I don’t need you to apologise. I just—I just needed to vent.” She wiped her cheeks and sniffled, stepping away from Sunghoon. “I don’t– I’m going to my room. I don’t know what’s happening, or why you’re telling me this all of a sudden, so...”

“No.” Sunoo stepped forward. “Don’t go yet. Just… hear us out for a second.”

Mila looked reluctant, so Heeseung continued. “The thing is, we do love you. More than you know. But it wasn’t until you confessed that we were actually realising that there was a chance that we could actually be with you.”

Mila let out a shaky breath. “That can’t be…”

“It’s true.” Jungwon was the one to speak. “We actually talked about it when you left the room that night… We were trying to decide what to do—because all of us liked you for a while now, but none of us expected that you would like all seven of us back.”

Mila couldn’t believe what she was hearing right now. She had gone for so long wondering what it would take to get them to love her in return, or for her to fall out of love with them. She had gone so long wallowing in her own self-pity and doubt, that she didn’t even know the extent of what was happening within the hearts of the others.

She assumed she had rightfully been rejected because they had seen her more of a sister than a lover, or because they were disturbed by the fact that she could love more than one person at a time. It didn’t occur to her that there might be something more behind it.

Her throat felt dry, and she couldn’t find words to say.

“We agreed that we would all lay off and let you choose,” Jay said. “But then we found out how you felt, and then we all disagreed about what to do next. So…”

“So I said that we would just lay off entirely, so that no one would get hurt.” Heeseung looked down at Mila’s wide eyes. “But it hurt–a lot. It hurt because we finally knew that we had a chance… and we decided not to take it.”

“So why now?” Mila asked breathily. “Why not tell me this earlier?”

“That was partially my fault,” Jay said.

“And mine.” Mila turned around to face Sunghoon, whose face had softened considerably—with that same look in his eyes he would always have around her, before everything went up in flames.

“We had a chance to save all of us the trouble, and to just court you together–as a group.”

Mila let in a sharp breath at the thought, an annoying flutter of both hope and wonder filling her chest. Was that even possible? She had thought about it, had dreamt of it many times… But it was different hearing it said aloud.

“But some of us were a bit selfish and didn’t want to go through with it. Until we realised that it would be better to do that, than to see you with someone else.” 

Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s really selfish, we know.”

Mila shook her head. “I know about being selfish… but you guys never were. Before… what happened, there wasn’t anything you didn’t do to make me happy, and I–I got jealous even at the thought of you doing the same to someone else.”

Mila didn’t see the way their eyes softened when she admitted it, because they would know all about the sort of longing and pining that came from seeing the person they loved drift further from them. 

“You’re not selfish,” she whispered. “I was—am the selfish one. Because I could never just love one of you… It was always all or nothing for me. And I don’t blame you for not feeling comfortable with the idea, because you deserve someone who will treat you like you’re the only one for them, just like you deserve.”

“Don’t say that.” Riki frowned, reaching up to wipe the stray tear that ran down her cheek.

“Please tell me that this is not a dream.” Mila’s eyes shone as they looked up at his. “I don’t want to wake up if it is.”

The boys laughed.

“It’s not a dream, byeol-ah.” Sunoo squeezed her hand beside her. “We’re telling you the truth. We really do love you. And we’re sorry for not saying it sooner.”

“But if you’d let us,” Jungwon continued, “we really want to try and make it work.”

There was a look of understanding between the seven of them, and Mila didn’t know if there was even a second left for her to doubt. But there were so many things she would have to handle: her relationship with Sejun, the idea of having seven boyfriends, the reaction from others… And she was unsure of how she would deal with them when the time came—if she agreed to what they were asking.

All she knew was that she wanted to be theirs. Maybe, just maybe, they could make it work.

TAGLIST @em1ejiee @menichoi @dracoslovergirl @rosas-in-the-garden @blossominghunnie @lovelypham @cornenhapovs @nee-issaire @jwnstars

LN4 + MERCEDES DRIVER!READER — the rivalry between you and lando is no secret. hell—there’s an entire drive to survive episode dedicated to exploring and exploiting that animosity that exists between the two of you. pointed remarks on the radio during races, snide comments during media interviews. “where do you think you lost the podium?” one of those grating journalists would ask. adrenaline high. sweat on your back. mercedes cap on your head. your hands would grip the railing, feeling members of your pr team eyeing you carefully. “gosh, i don’t know, maybe when lando tried to ram me into a wall at turn 6?” media interviews are promptly cut short after that. clip compilations of the two of you. camera lenses that seem to sharpen whenever you walk near each other. you’re representing mercedes and picking fights like this is unprofessional. you’ve had it drilled into your head by one too many people. you get it. formula one is not just about racing—it’s about public image. and so, the next time an interviewer tries to get you to make a comment about lando, you take them in stride. no unprofessional behavior, no rude reply, no swears aimed at the mclaren driver. because you’re professional. you can handle it. even if it makes you wanna tear your eyes out. and, well, if you must find a silver lining to it, you happen to enjoy just how much it seems to be throwing off lando. puzzled looks. furrowed brows. taking a moment too long to answer a question after you. and if any fans point out that you seem to grin at just how utterly thrown off lando looks… well, then they’re surely reading too much into it.

“how to make max verstappen no glue no activator”

— toto wolff probably

The Sweetest Thing - Teaser

All your life you’ve been your sisters’ punching bag. Never good enough. Never fully accepted. When your mother makes one of them choose you as her maid of honor you reluctantly agree. Semi-vacationing in Tuscany with your ‘beloved’ family, you meet two handsome strangers one night and let them do whatever they want with you. Too bad you didn’t ask for their names first.

Pairing: Heeseung x F!Reader x Sunghoon 

Genre: Strangers to ???, Porn with Plot

Warnings: CHEATING!!! reader is hooking up with her sisters’ fiancés, sisters are horrible and suck, mentions of past verbal abuse, reader is somewhat a pervert (she defo is), heeseung & sunghoon definitely are perverts, heeseung & sunghoon are mean, they have nothing good to say about their fiancés, alcohol consumption, adult content MDNI! smut warnings will be in actual fic

Word Count: 5.7k (so far)

Release Date: August 7th

Taglist: @skzenhalove, @haelahoops, @deobitifull, @shiningnono, @jakeswifez, @slut4hee, you can be added by replying to this post or sending me an ask <3 there must be an age indicator in your blog since this is a nsfw fic! 

Something about the Italian sky seems different. Maybe it’s because you’re not close to a big city, but the stars shine brighter than you’ve ever seen them. It feels like a movie; the stars and moon so visible with no cloud in sight, the small street of Arezzo you’re currently sitting in - a small restaurant with a small menu but a nice older man that speaks decent English. A glass of wine standing on the small table beside you and the first bit of peace you’ve felt in days. 

It’s when you take your next sip of wine you see them. 

Two men straight out of a magazine walking towards one of the free tables next to yours and sitting down. There is nothing you can do but stare. Both of them have dark hair, one of them a bit shorter than the other. They are dressed elegantly, designer shoes and pants, blazers hanging over their chairs. Even if you wanted to - you could not possibly say which one was more attractive. 

What a nice way to end a horrible day, you think. Smiling, you finish your glass and immediately order the next, not entirely used to drinking so much, but not caring since you are miles away from home and no one here knows you anyway. The waiter nods and then proceeds to go over to the newcomers. The one with the slightly lighter hair and the mole on his nose orders in perfect Italian, with just enough of an accent for you to know they aren’t from here. Your choice of table appears to be perfect for watching them, listening to them converse in a language you understand. 

And it all stays innocent like this - they talk about their flight and about friends - until suddenly the conversation sways.

“I honestly- fuck, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this, you know?” The one with shorter hair says and his friend sighs, taking his wine glass and finishing it in one go. Impressive. There was at least half left in yours. 

“I don’t know what to tell you. We committed and now we’re fucked.”

“Just that we aren’t getting actually fucked.”

They look at each other before they laugh, shaking their heads. Meanwhile, your ears perk up. 

“Fuck, I really don’t know the last time she let me hit it, Hoon. I think I’m going crazy.”

“Yeah, same here. Like, yeah, we fucked once the day before her flight. But literally only missionary and she didn’t suck me off.”

“Again? Dude, is she ever even putting her mouth on it?” 

“Nope. Ever since we got engaged she’s like this fucking prude. Is yours like that too?”

“Yeah. I got her flowers and her favorite chocolates and she still wouldn’t even jack me off, like fuck, if it’s gonna be like this forever I can just go cut my dick off.”

Jesus. These two seem to be in very happy relationships. Makes you almost feel better to not be in one. Even if your mother would beg to differ. She’s been desperate for you to find a match for ages. For whatever reason, really, considering her two golden girls were about to get married to rich and handsome heirs. 

“Just one good blowjob, man, that’s all I want, really. I miss getting some good fucking head.”

The way short hair looks at mole - with so much understanding and pity, you can’t help but chuckle. Chuckle loud enough for them to take notice. 

Their gazes burn on your face before you even see them. But when you do your smile dies and instead makes room for horror. They heard you laugh at them. Even worse, they know you’ve been listening. Shit. 

Thankfully, you are three glasses of delicious white wine in and the fourth one is almost empty. Which means you aren’t the sweet little wallflower you’d usually be. Scary, how alcohol can change people.

“Oh, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped.” You apologize, placing your hand over your heart. 

“Agreed.” Short hair says, his eyebrow raised. Now, with both of their eyes on you, it seems like they are even more attractive. Perfect faces with pretty eyes and soft looking hair. Handsome men in unhappy relationships that fail to give them what they need. It’s almost comical how the switch in your head turns over, how the persona you normally never let anyone see until you’re in a secluded space comes out and gives you the courage to speak your next words.

“I just couldn’t believe my ears,” you let your finger glide over the rim of your glass, eyes on the two men with your tongue slipping out to lick over your bottom lip, “how anyone would be opposed to having sex with you.” 

Oh.

Sunghoon and Heeseung’s ears perk up just like yours did earlier. Eyes widen slightly as they understand the innuendo in your words. 

They think about the same thing - the last time they took a girl together. Probably during senior year in college. Back then, they used to do that regularly. Having almost the identical type in women. Instead of having to let her choose, she’d get them both. 

But it’s been years since then. They are in committed relationships now, about to get married. And still - neither of them can deny that you fall right into their usual prey, or well, the prey they’d chosen back in college before their parents had picked out their wives for them. 

It’s the way you look at them, the way your eyes say so much more than your words. It is also the way both of them feel like they are 22 again with nothing but getting their dick wet on their minds. One thing about Heeseung and Sunghoon - they always worked perfectly in a pair. Back in college and now, too. They can almost read each other’s minds at this point, only a short exchange of looks needed to know neither of them gave a single fuck about anything right now.

“Want to sit down with us?” Sunghoon asks and points at the free chair opposite them. You smile. 

“It’d be my pleasure.”

header credit @wongyuseokie <3

till forever falls apart 𑁍ࠬܓ jake sim

pairing: widower!jake x fem!reader

genre: LOTS of angst like a lot, childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort/no comfort, some fluff here and there, coming of age, bittersweet ending.

word count: 8k words (or more..)

synopsis: jake came unto your life when you needed it the most. you didn’t expect it but he did and it all did happen on that one specific bench behind the beach you both grew up on, that one summer night. jake just had no idea you would slip through his fingers the way you did. and not that fast either.

warnings: character death, grief & loss, jake is a widower and has a daughter, unknown illness, mature language & cursing, low self worth, depression, mental break downs, fighting, marriage, mentions of seizures, hospitality, medication, just a lot of sad shit i’m so sorry in advanced.

a/n: here it is. mind you i wrote this with a heavy heart and a lot of thoughts in mind ( ; ω ; ) but either way i hope you all like this as much as i liked writing it. this is not proofread by the way, i apologize.

Jake’s feet were practically dragging. Everyone would probably have noticed that but in that moment, his biggest wish would probably be to erase everyone’s existence. He’s been living in his own shadow for felt like years. The only one he’s been vividly making eye contact with was his daughter and the florist he’s been going to for the past few months. Yet it felt for much longer. After all he was counting the days. With a heavy heart that was once filled to the brim with happiness and all the things he’s ever wanted.

The florist, a lady in her late fifties, always welcomed Jake with open arms and it was gestures like that, that made him feel smaller than ever. He wanted to return it, he really did but all he could do, was request the bouquet of flower he was in search for, with an even heavier heart. And if the words weren’t enough, he would point to that one specific section where they were kept. It usually didn’t take long since he memorized it.

Your favorite ones.

Peonies.

His mom called him before he left to buy those flowers. He was surprised with how different she sounded compared to him, or maybe it was because he was starting to forget how everyone sounded, especially those the closest to him. After all he was completely wrapped up in his own arms that felt far too empty and cold to the touch that he couldn’t help but let it happen. With his phone pressed to his ear, he let his mom do the talking while he was busy staring at nothing. More like the place where you used to sleep beside him and him basking in the comfort of your soft snores. You felt so close, so warm. You provided the warm that was missing and now he had to bask unto nothing but coldness. A lit up candle couldn’t even mend the wounds together. He had no idea how long he stayed on the phone with his mom for but at some point he could hear her sniffle and being in the state he was, he couldn’t ask her what was wrong. He was barely doing better himself.

And the call ended with him saying nothing and her saying it wasn’t his fault. The exact same thing she said the last time he saw her those many months ago.

He was debating whether to go check in on his daughter, knowing she would question the state he was. It wad the witty and her ability to be attentive and Jake knew she got that from you. He saw you right through her.

These were one of the days where he was far too deep unto the dark corners of his mindset where he didn’t bother with himself and how hard he was on himself. Jake almost breathed a sigh in relief when he saw his daughter still passed out in her bed, white sheets pulled up to her chin and tightly wrapped around her, the cloud lamp that you gifted to her on her fourth birthday, perfectly dimmed and casting a mellow glow over the roundness of her cheeks. Down on the floor, was Layla sleeping, with her resting on her front paws. The dog he got when he was ten, the one you raised with him.

This was one of the moments where Jake allowed himself to smile, a small smile without feeling bad for doing so.

Jake shook his head when he heard a voice briefly pull him out of his thoughts. His visions cleared and he saw the florist give him a sympathetic smile, probably sensing something, the grey hair framing her face in a way that matched her soft yet gentle features.

“Are you okay, young man?”

Jake was a bit taken aback but settled for a nod before eyeing the bouquet that the lady has managed to wrap up with obvious care.

It was like she saw right through him.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone.” She sadly smiled.

“These flowers,” She gestured to the Peonies, “They are for someone.. someone special, aren’t they?”

Gulping, Jake averted his eyes but still nodded.

“She was my everything,” He slowly forced out and he saw the lady perk up, “My childhood sweetheart, my best friend, my wife. And the mother to our daughter.”

“She was also basically everything I wasn’t yet she still made sure to remind me that she would love me no matter what. Her grip on my hand was tight until it wasn’t but even so, I knew she wouldn’t let go no matter what,” Jake swallowed back his urge to cry, but talking about her tugged at the strings holding him together. And he felt like the lady sensed that before she settled a old wrinkly hand on his shoulder.

The tears were already rolling down by then. Tears he’s been holding in all those months ever since.

“She sounded lovely,” Patting his shoulder, she continued, “I know she would’ve been proud of you especially for still being here, somewhere on the ground where she can look at you from afar,”

“I miss her, ma’am.” Looking up with bloodshot eyes, the lady offered another sympathetic smile, before handling him a tissue.

“I know, child.” She nodded, “I’m not saying you will overcome this grief soon or frankly ever. But you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. When you think about her, please do not always think about the negatives that comes along with it, think about the fact that out of everyone, you were the one she chose. Think about how she chose to love you even with all your flaws and how none of those things would ever change the way she saw you.”

Jake remembered the day. Clear and bright under the moonlight. He was eleven, fairly tall for his height with black strands that always fell over his eyes with how the wind always loved to mess with it. Everyone said that he had that soft look yet gentle demeanor look from his mom, he’s heard it so much to the point where he started believing them. After all his mom was a phenomenal woman.

Ever since dad walked out on both of them, mom has tried her hardest to raise him by herself despite her being young still. She was still in her youth and it was a sad sight to not see her do all the things people her age did. Travel the world, figure out themselves and planning their future without anyone standing in their way of doing so. Jake’s biggest fear was being in her way specifically, being a burden but the warmth from her embrace managed to tell him everything he needed to know. And so he tried his best to help her despite not knowing half of the things he did but he didn’t want his mom to cry anymore. He didn’t want her to downgrade herself and blame herself for things that were out of her control. He wanted her to go to bed with a gentle mindset and now all of the things that used to eat her up.

His mom went to sleep early that night and Jake promised himself that he would prep himself his own dinner and cut up some fruit for his mom since he knew she loved those, and then take out the trash.

Opening the gates, he dragged the plastic bag behind him before dumping it in the big green trash container. The summer nights were getting warmer and times like this reminded Jake off how much he loved it. Giving a toothy grin, he whipped his two hands on the front of his shorts before turning back to head inside, but not before casting a look over his shoulder.

There he saw someone. A few feet away from him.

At first, Jake had no idea what they were doing before walking closer. They were just. Sitting on the bench, in front of the beach. How odd.

“If you’re gonna stare, can you at least be less.. obvious with it?” The person asked, almost nonchalantly.

It was a girl.

Jake didn’t respond, fear of embarrassing himself further so he settled for walking closer to her before taking a seat beside her. So this was what she was doing, just looking at the waves. This late at night?

The young boy scratched behind his head with a small chuckle, “Sorry.. I didn’t think you would notice me,”

She casted him a side eye look before rolling her eyes.

“You’re not exactly quiet.”

And then she turned to stare back at the beach’s many waves. The stars glimmering in reflection with the water. It was beautiful, he couldn’t deny that.

He never bothered looking at where she was looking. But instead he decided to take her in. She was dressed in a white nightgown with a scruff at the end and at the ends of the sleeves, her hair wasn’t tied up or anything but fell behind her shoulders due to the wind, pointy nose, eyelashes casting a dim shadow on her the top of her cheeks which were a bit flushed due to the not too chilly breeze.

Jake might’ve been young but he wasn’t young enough to not know was beauty was when he saw it. And this might have been the prettiest girl he’s ever laid his eyes on. She might’ve been as beautiful as his mom.

“You really have a staring problem,” She told him, amusement evident in her voice.

“What!” Jake shook his head before scooting away from her, “What is that even supposed to mean!”

“Hmmm…” The still unknown girl tapped her chin lightly.

“It means you stare too much. My mom says that stuff will have you go blind.”

So this was how she wanted to play.

“Well, she’s wrong!”

He knew he hit a sensitive spot when the girl before him gaped lightly at what he said before huffing. He felt the panic dwell in and he was about to apologize before he heard her burst unto a fit of laughter.

“You should have seen the look on your face!”

Jake knew that day, that her laughter, that sound was his favorite melody of all time.

⋆

If anyone asked what you thought of Jake, the first thing that immediately came to your mind was — an oddball.

It didn’t add more to it when you both lived in the same neighborhood. Only two houses away from each other. To add more to it, your mom and his mom knew each other since they used to go to the same highschool together. They both suffered from the loss of their husbands, with yours dying before you were even born, which meant you had no idea who he was. So you lived off your mom’s words about him, the picture frames around the house and the photobooks your mom kept in a small box in the basement.

It was like your moms’ relationship drew you closer to Jake and now that you took a closer look at him, he wasn’t so bad and he wasn’t as irritating as the other boys in your class. The ones who said girls had cooties and girl disease. In fact, you took a hold of how Jake wanted or more so, looked forward to spending time with you any chance he got. He also came by a lot especially after school asking for you. You were pretty sure your mom held some kind of favoritism towards him because she never wasted a breath when it came to the boy with the brightest eyes you’ve ever seen. And before you knew it, you warmed up to him. It didn’t take long but it wasn’t fast either. You were a girl with a lot of things on your mind and frankly, you were just perfectly fine in your own world and peace. But Jake managed to add something to that. You had no idea what or how, but he did.

“Y/N look!”

You looked up from how absentmindedly you were coloring in a butterfly, when you saw Jake running towards you..

With a dog? On a leash?

You sat up with a slight gasp at the sight out of the creature and before you knew it, the dog hopped on you leaving gentle but happy licks all over your face.

“Layla, no!” Jake yelled sternly.

Holding up your arms, you tried blocking them away with a loud laugh before you settled for petting her. Not before pushing her away tho.

“Oh my,” The boy before you sighed in distress, a hand coming up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “I’m so sorry about that Y/N. She’s still a puppy, so she’s full of energy,”

“Don’t apologize,” You shake your head before allowing Layla to take up the space on your lap for some more scritches.

“But I’m kinda mad, why didn’t you tell me you had a dog!”

“Umm…” Jake giggled sheepishly, “I actually just got her a few days ago. I was gonna tell you eventually..”

You gasped in mock offense before picking up a coloring pencil to throw at him.

“Hey!”

“You could’ve still have told me!”

“I was going to!”

Your bickering stopped by Layla jumping off your lap and running around the both of you in circles, indicating she wanted to play and have some energy spent. As if she hasn’t done that already.

“We we’re actually planning on going to the beach,”

Jake saw the way your eyes lit up and he couldn’t help the quick stutter his heart did. What was this feeling?

“Really? Can I join?”

“That was the plan, silly,”

Dusting off your lap from Layla’s jump earlier, you were about to stand up before two hands grabbed yours. Gently, they pulled you up to your feet and then gently let go. Almost as if knowing what was going on, Layla looked back and forth between the two young humans in front of her, before she barked to gather their attention.

“Oh! Uh, she’s getting impatient, we should go,” Jake quickly mumbled out before picking up his dog’s leash off the where he dropped it in the grass.

“Wait!” You looked back at your house before looking back at your friend.

And by then, Jake already knew what was stirring up your hesitation. He smiled at you reassuringly.

“I already told your mom. She said dinner will be done by the time you’re home.”

You could finally let out the breath you’ve been holding.

“Plus your mom loves me,” Jake quipped teasingly.

The young boy laughed at your eye roll and before you both knew it, you were both running, along with Layla down to the beach, with the dog before the both of you barking profusely with a hint of excitement. The whole afternoon was just you and Jake by each other’s side, with his dog running back and forth in the water. She even shook all of her water from her fur at both of you at some point to the point where you both were on the sand rolling around, both of your laughters mixing together that mingled in the sky above off you. It added more to the memories and you both knew you would be thinking about that day till the day you both grew old and wrinkly.

You knew that day, that you wouldn’t wanna spend days like these with anybody but with Jake.

⋆

Years went by, things blossomed and so did your bond with Jake.

It went from meeting him to that one random night on the beach, to you finding out you lived just barely away from each other, to you starting classes together properly after your mom’s job paid her enough for that to happened. You remember the sheer happiness when she told you that and how much that meant to younger you. You weren’t isolated by any means, in fact, your mom encouraged you to check the world for yourself. But you would rather have things done at your pace, so that’s what you did. Luckily she understood and you were beyond thankful.

You also noticed changes about Jake. At some point you and him were the same height, but ever since highschool hit, he’s grown like a head, almost two heads taller than you. He’s grown his fringes out, even at some point dyed it through the school years to the point where you had no idea how many times he did it. You remember one time dyeing it for him tho and that shit was a complete disaster and you wouldn’t have blamed him if he wanted to bald that way. You were still attached to the hip pretty much.

But something that has been coming back to biting you, was that you had no idea where you and Jake’s relationship were interlinked at. You were both seniors in highschool now and things were rocky. God forbid your younger self thought that growing older would result in you being able to talk about your feelings and emotions better, but no. You realized that wasn’t the case. There was definitely something holding you back. You just didn’t wanna come to terms with what it was. Running a hand through your head, you plopped down your bed, arms and legs spread out.

“Y/N?” You suddenly heard someone knock on your door before a head peeked in.

“Did you remember to take your medication?” She asked before stepping foot unto your room.

“Mom.. we already talked about this,”

“You can’t just keep pushing me away,” She insisted

You huffed before sitting, “Can’t we talk about this later please? I have to study for an upcoming exam. I promise I’ll take them later,”

“Y/N—“

“—Mom please..” You looked away from her, voice wavering, “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

You heard her sigh, before footsteps and the sound of your door being closed.

Reaching out for your phone on your bedside, your first instinct was to text Jake. But you knew the sound of his voice was exactly what you needed right now. More than anything. Hovering your thumb over his Caller ID, you slowly started debating if this really was a good idea. Now that you think about it, you and Jake haven’t really talked much due to busy schedules, and you’ve also noticed him confiding comfort in a group of friends you’ve never talked to before, while you had a group of friends of your own.

You missed him. And it was eating you up from the inside.

“Fuck it,” You whispered before dialing his number.

The ringing was not a fit match for how quick your heart was beating, it was practically beating out of your chest and you didn’t like it. Not one bit. But you couldn’t deny in how much need you were of his voice. It was almost embarrassing.

He still had no idea.

“Y/N?”

You smiled. After all this time, his voice was still your favorite tune.

“Hi Jake..”

“Y/N? Hey. Is everything okay?”

“Why do you always assume that something’s wrong?” You giggled and even tho you couldn’t see his face, you knew his face was definitely scrunched up in his one infamous frowns.

“Well, I’m sorry for caring I guess,”

“No you’re not,”

“You’re right, I’m not.”

The same old Jake.

“I miss you, y’know?” He finally spoke up, “I feel like I barely see you anymore.”

“I’m still here, Jake. Life has just.. been busy you know—“

“—Y/N, no,”

You heard some shuffling on the other side of the line, before a dejected sigh.

“It’s because I barely see you anymore. Even your friends are worried about you. You’re still at school, I know you are because I know you wouldn’t miss any of your classes no matter how busy or tired you are but you always disappear so quickly after..”

“Like is there something you aren’t telling me?”

You wanted to tell him.

You wanted to tell him so badly but you couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the look on his face when you did. He would be crushed and you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself for that.

“Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine. Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Y/N—“

“No y’know what? I actually called you because I needed you and now you throw this on me—You and my mom are exactly the same. You both say the same shit and it’s pissing me off,” Not wasting a second thought, you hung up before throwing your phone on your bed, silent tears rolling down your face.

You went to sit on the bench by the beach the same day, after you heard your mom went to bed. Pulling up your knees closer to yourself, you were silently beating yourself up for not wearing something warmer. Though, you were eyeing your jacket, more or so Jake’s jacket that was hanging around your chair but decided not to take it at last minute.

Wrapping your arms around your knees, you took a look up at the night sky. The moon was seeking it’s place behind some dark clouds, the stars were doing their own things, the wind was getting colder. It was as if everything was going by slower? Or faster? You were not sure anymore but you knew it’s been an push and pull trick ever since that day.

Would it be too early to give up now?

“I knew I would find you here.”

“You can’t keep running away from us, from me, Y/N. I won’t let that happen,”

You turned your head, tears slowly starting to brim your eyes again. You didn’t want him to see you this way. Then there is a sudden pressure on your shoulders and by now you knew Jake has wrapped your upper body up in his jacket, with him now in his white sweatshirt and black plaid pajamas pants. He wasn’t expecting any response from you, in fact, he was just happy to be in your presence and not you running away nor pushing him away.

“I won’t force you to say anything,” He slowly sits down, the space beside you always available for him. There hasn’t been a day where it hasn’t been.

“But.. I hope you know you can talk—“

“I don’t have a lot of time, Jake,”

The first pen drop.

When you didn’t receive any response, you turned your head and hoped for the worst. Jake was still staring forward, towards the waves and how more far away they suddenly sounded.

“I only have two years left.”

That made him turn his head to look at you. The look in his eyes made your heart drop. In all these many years you’ve known Jake, you have never seen him look like this, so empty, so hollow of thoughts, so broken and if you weren’t such a mess yourself, you would have tried to pick up pieces back together. But what was it worth if you couldn’t even pick up your own? Staying alive at this point felt like a chore, a walk even down to the beach sometimes took all the air out of your lungs if you didn’t take your medications.

You managed to catch the tear you saw roll down his cheek with the soft pad of your thump. He gripped your wrist in his hand when he felt it about to retreat and held it up to his cheek, fearing you would disappear faster if he didn’t. Your warmth was all he needed now. Jake hated asking for too much but he wanted to be selfish for once, right now.

“I’m sorry,” You shook your head, feeling the tears roll again, “I should’ve told you. But this was what I was fearing for. Seeing your reaction, seeing the look on your face especially after—“

Feeling a warm gentle hand cupping your cheek, you felt your words get caught in your throat when you took in the way he looked at you now. There was still sadness lingering but you really couldn’t put a finger on what the rest was. But that didn’t really occur your mind. You just needed him to say something.

“Jake, please say something..” You begged, voice cracking, “Yell at me, scream at me, anything!”

You failed to see the way he moved closer.

“Especially for the way I’ve been treating you. That’s the least I deserve,” Pushing at his chest, you couldn’t help but let more tears roll, the place on your lap a sea of your own sorrows by that point

“Why are you looking at me like that, Jake please—“

Your hands faltered their pushing on his chest when you felt something soft yet wet on your lips. Closing your eyes which were still filled with tears, you pushed yourself closer and basked in the gentle kiss that belonged to him.

It was always him.

You knew it by now, you knew it ever since your first encounter on that one night at the beach, at the exact same place where you were at now.

⋆

A lot has changed, with how low your energy has gotten, you couldn’t bring yourself to attend to classes psychically anymore. And by what your personal doctor has said, any stress can trigger the most especially in the state you’re in right now and nobody, especially your mother wouldn’t ever wanna take that risk. So you settled for going to school but at home instead, in the walls of your room. Your routine has gotten progressively more straightforward than what it usually was. You were drained and the eye bags under your would tell anyone a story that you, yourself wouldn’t be able to, lips chapped and peeling. You could barely recognize the sight of yourself anymore.

Jake was walking around with a heavy heart. You were finally his but at what cost? These past weeks has just been him lingering by your side more and more each day to the point he might practically live at your place now. Frankly, he wasn’t doing better himself. He was beating himself up for making everything seem like your fault when nothing was ever your fault to begin it. The world was just too cruel to make space for someone as precious and as delicate as you, the world never deserved you. Jake can’t count the amount of times he’s managed to utter those words to you, while trailing his browns over your features, with your hands interlocked under the sea of stars and crescent moon. And he memorized your reaction to his words each time. You were really the most endearing piece of art to him.

He knew you were trying. You even told him you were so he wouldn’t worry too much, you would fe your ribs construct whenever you saw the way he was trying so hard to keep himself from breaking down when he felt the warmth from your hands, from your body slowly leave your body day by then. All that warmth that you usually provided, was all gone. All the warmth he would confide in whether it was after a stressful day after of classes, work or the insignificant days where he got unto an argument with his mother. He was seeking for your warmth everywhere he went.

Yet Jake held unto the last amount of warmth you had left. That was all he could do.

“Jake,” He heard his mother’s voice speak up before he felt her shake his shoulders, obviously trying to wake him from his afternoon nap.

“I’m up, I’m up,” Groaning he sat up and was met with his mom’s frantic pacing.

He gave her a confused look.

“Mom—?”

“It’s Y/N,” She breathed out, “Her mom just called from the at the hospital..”

“Apparently she had a seizure,”

That was then Jake felt his whole world collapse.

This couldn’t be..

“B-But how.. I.. She was okay when I saw her last day..” He felt his breath getting stuck along with his world. This couldn’t be. His mom didn’t say anything but instead pulled him unto his arms and that was where Jake allowed himself to break down fully. Without any care in the world. You were getting further and further away each day and he had no idea how to cope with it. He was angry, frustrated, why was he letting this happen? Why couldn’t he have done more? For you?

You deserved everything, but this.

⋆

“I will miss seeing the stars,”

Even with a light hoarse lilt to your voice, it still sounded soft and gentle in Jake’s ears. Like it always has. You were wearing a soft smile when looking at the stars from the hospital window, that never seemed to falter when you turned to look at him.

“I know you will, my love.”

Your smile faltered when you noticed that he was in deep in thoughts. He always we’re but this time it wasn’t out of sheer sadness and distress but more like.. he was bashful?

“Is something bothering you, my Jake?”

He didn’t respond but from the corner of your eyes, you saw him pull out a small black velvet box. You gasped.

“I know we’re still young and all but..” He says carefully, “But you’re probably the only person I’ve ever felt this sure with. This secure with and I honestly couldn’t have asked for someone better,”

Slowly opening the box, there was it. A ring. A silver ring littered with small diamonds on the sides, with the biggest one being shaped in a crystallized star. You looked up and you realized Jake hasn’t looked away from you once, trying his best to read your reaction and body language, making sure he hasn’t been overstepping anything.

“I know you hate asking for much, just like I do but..”

“Jake I..” You shake your head, eyes wide, “It’s beautiful..”

Taking out the ring from the box, he gently took your hand before slipping the ring on before bringing it up to seal it with a kiss to your knuckles.

“You don’t have to say anything.. I know that—“

“My Jake, of course I wanna marry you..”

⋆

Jake woke up startled to the someone knocking on his front door. Automatically he reached beside him but was met with nothing but the cold sheets.

Heaving another deep sigh from his chest, he slipped on slippers before walking downstairs, careful not to wake up his daughter. He was met with Layla who was pressing her snout against the door, curious herself, tail slightly wagging before letting out a small bark at the sight of her owner

“Hey girl,” He cooed with a scratch to the canine’s head, “Be quiet now, wouldn’t wanna wake anyone up would we?”

Honestly, Jake had no idea what he was expecting when opening the door but..

“Mrs. Y/N?”

“Hi son..” She muttered, “I hope you’re doing okay. Look, I-I don’t have much time but this morning I came across this while cleaning up in Y/N’s room and found this,”

The woman gave a careful smile and that was then he noticed a small envelope in her hand.

“I was about to open it but I think it was meant for you,”

Carefully taking the letter, he examined it before turning it around where he noticed something written in messy yet distinguished writing.

‘For him <3’

⋆

‘Dear you,

I don’t know what this letter will be when you receive it but I hope it lands safely in your hands.

Life hasn’t been easy and to be honest, I never expected it to be. You and I both know that. But what I do know is that you’ve made my life easier. I don’t know if that has do with the solace from your words or the stars from your eyes. But in me somewhere, I knew you changed my life for the better. I can’t think of a person who’s made me laugh and smile as much as you have, I think that itself alone is impossible if you ask me.

I hope you aren’t too hard on yourself. And if you are, a reminder that I never wanted you to be and neither does your mother and our daughter. I may not be here when you read this so please think about them when life gets hard and when you can feel yourself shift the blame on yourself for all the things that was never your fault to begin with. I didn’t ask for how my life turned out, neither did you. None of us did. Life just has some dwelling sometimes and at some point, they like to take it out on one of us.

It’s not fair. I know.

But I hope you can look up at the stars and see me.

I will always be here with you.

Your, Y/N L/N.’

taglist: @karinasbaby @nishions @hittoki @superbbananananana @mimizen127 @jjunie-0 @ghostiiess

2024 © fariest, do not copy, modify or post my work to other sites

blank canvas — park sunghoon.

↪ one - run your hands over me.

↪ mlist.

— when black and white sorrows loom on your life park sunghoon - a man with a cruel heart and destructive hands manages to color your days with splashes of rainbow. at least at first.

wc: 17k

'They say there are two types of people in this world. The type to have big dreams, ambition. Ego so high up enough to touch the clouds but they lack potential. They think of themselves higher than they actually are. Then there's the second type of people. The ones with potential to rule the world. Get anything they can but they lack the desire, the drive–'

You feel a tap on your shoulder purloining your attention away from the broadcast reverberating through your ears, you take one of your earbuds out. Facing the person who just touched you. It’s an old lady, with thinning gray and a freight of years upon years accumulating in the wrinkles gracing her face.

“Oh my!” she speaks with as much enthusiasm as age in her face “you’re absolutely beautiful sweetheart!” adulation flow from between her lips as easy as the droplets of rain falling from the sky, it has your cheeks marring in red with embarrassment.

“Thank you.” you reply, tone laced with transparent diffidence, enough for her palm to cup your cheek in mystifying warmth. It’s in the heat radiating off her hand, in contrast with the freezing weather.

Adoration colors her gaze as if you were truly the most appealing looking person she had to pleasure to witness in a while, and you could only duck your head in bashfulness. Burying it in the heat of your scarf as she coos over you.

"Ah!" The old lady speaks up, eyes widening as she brings her palm to her lips as if she just remembered what she came here to say in the first place "I think you missed the last bus already." A frown climbs its way up over features, taking over the redness adorning your cheeks and the tip of your nose as you check your phone for the time.

4:35 pm

31st December

"It's not even 6 yet." You mutter. More to yourself but she catches it "I guess they're cutting them short because of the rain." You make a sound of comprehension. Eyes fliting to the graying skies, it has been raining heavily for the last two hours and you have been so immersed in your broadcast, you only realize now that you’ve been waiting at the bus ride for close to thirty minutes. The old lady leaves you with a smile sent your way, doused in affability akin to the truant sun. As you put your earbuds back on, you suck in a deep breath.

Inculcating yourself for what’s about to come, using your bag as leverage to shield yourself from the rain, you hold it above your head as you start running out of the bus stop.

'– But you know? There is a third type of people. That is hidden. Vaguely, we know of them. We know they exist but we're hardly aware of them. Even though they're the most destructive. Those type of people that take everything they want in sight, it doesn’t matter if they worked hard for it. If they had potential, if they thought lowly or highly of themselves. They consume everything they get their hands on. Even humans–'

You huff with overflowing exasperation, turning off the dumb podcast and shoving your phone in your pocket. Your attempts at being productive and listening to something that could feed your soul have failed miserably by now. More so it doesn't seem like you'll be able to get to work in this kind of weather. You blame it on the fact that you don’t own a tv - Or truthfully you own one. It's an old rusty thing that you stole from your grandma's house before moving. It barely works so how were you supposed to know such cruel weather was waiting to unfold?

Or at least those are the excuses you feed your brain as you stumble in the closest building that comes to view, droplets of water trickle down the side of your face as you look around. Turns out bags does little to zero coverage from rain.

With another look around, you realize you had walked into an old museum, with the rain remaining unforgiving with the way it pours you decide to take a stroll around the neglected building. Barely hanging on by the few devoted people who probably deemed this place cozy enough to call it comfort. pausing for no longer than a minute on some of the gold and silver artifacts probably turned in by struggling artists. There’s a layer of dust collecting on some of the pieces, albeit your lack of understanding for art - the closest you’ve been to art was when in elementary school, drawing with crayons and showing it to your parents. Seeking praises, you never actually got- the sight of abandonment sheathing this place throws you into commiseration for it.

You would have believed this museum was forsaken if not for the employee chewing his gum in the corner and scrolling through his phone mindlessly.

You amble your way through a couple of paintings, pausing by a few to scour through your brain for your own elucidation that is probably nowhere near what it means. You linger by one that seems to seize your fascination for longer than the preceding ones.

Your eyes flicked across it, it was a painting of a woman’s naked body that’s facing away, with deeper and lighter hues of flesh, her face was ablaze with shades of flames. For a quaint reason it stirs a sense of disturbance within you. holding your gaze captive in an unsettling matter yet you can’t pinpoint why.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" An audible gasp slips past your lips, snapping you out of a daze and has you jolting in surprise.

Your eyes shift, flitting to whoever spoke to you and in mere moments you’re rendered mute. Every single word flees your mind leaving it blank. As you behold the embodiment of the snow on a human’s skin, the darkness of the night in his hair every single piece of art in this building dims in comparison.

You marvel at a beauty that feels so implausible to belong to a mortal.

“I wouldn’t know.” You clear your throat.

The stranger – clad in everything black from head to toe with faultlessly styled hair only tilts his head at you, something parallel to curiosity flourishes in his eyes, taking a few steps to close the distance between you two.

“How come?” His voice is low, like the feeling of a cool breeze dawdling past you amidst summer. His words dripping with softness, akin to the scent invading your space. Something heady and sweet yet you can’t seem to put your finger on what does he exactly smell like.

“I don’t understand art enough to appraisal it.” You reply, your eyes shifting back to the painting.

“Who says you need to understand art to form an opinion on it?” He asks and you swallow around nothing, eyes fleeting to his- they’re almost as dark as his hair- for a second only to find him already staring at you. The right side of your face burns with his intensity.

“I just think it’s a little ridiculous for someone ignorant like me to say anything about someone’s hard work.”

“But we all view things differently, no? We all have our different version of the world. It doesn’t take away from anyone’s hard work.” He responds and surely it is more than enough for you to consider his words, finding candour in them. You eye the painting meticulously.

“I think it’s sad.” You say after a while, slicing into the thick silence and from the corner of your eye, you see him turning to face the piece of art as well.

“Why do you think so?”

“It almost as if your thoughts are too overbearing to the point where they take over you. and then before you realize it you lost sight of yourself.”

An eerie silence fills the space between you, it stretches long enough to have you growing unnerved. You wonder if your thoughts are comical to voice. Maybe you just embarrassed yourself in front of the prettiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Stealing a glance at him only to find his gaze already set on you yet again, the same sense of disturbance crawls over you once again, your heart starts beating rapidly.

“That’s interesting.”

“You don’t think it’s stupid?” You breathe out and his brows raise slightly upwards in what seems to be astonishment, it is the first display of emotions he unveils.

“Your words? Not at all.”

“Even though you found it beautiful and yet I can’t seem to find the same beauty in it?”

There’s a pause in the space between you two, his eyes prance over your features, and you fall into the same confusing haze as to why your heart starts picking up speed, as if tranced you cannot seem to look away from him. Your cheeks glow pink under the deliberation of his stare.

“We all have different versions of the world. It’s only fair we find beauty in contradictory aspects.”

You fail to find words to push out, stumbling into another silence. You find enough blame to place on the way he makes you feel, somehow you don’t feel the apprehensiveness that usually comes upon meeting strangers for the first time, instead it feels like finally stumbling upon a piece of paper you have lost track of a long time ago.

It’s uncanny, you and his harrowing glances that cut through you as if he knows the contents of your mind, as if he sees you.

“Do you think you’re beautiful?” he asks and you almost scoff at how ludicrous his question is, looking at him only to realize the seriousness clinging to his features. Pushing you further into confusion.

“I’m not sure what I think.” You say, softly. and his lips tilt upwards with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“How peculiar.” You don’t get to ask him what he means before he’s speaking again “You’re prettier than any of the paintings hanged on these walls.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart beats as if a hundred birds are trapped inside and they’re dying to be set free. Woven with unfathomable desolation.

You have always lacked resilience, a few words of adulation are more than enough to have you melting, there’s ample room in your heart to take claim over the sweet words, for your eyes to soften.

Yet you deem yourself demented with groundless thoughts provoked by him.

Your encounter with the man lingers in your head yet more than anything his eyes stay with you the longest.

They looked so empty.

"Good evening sweetheart." the sweet tone of none other than Yang Taeyeon rings in your ears and through the small store with familiarity, forcing a smile upon your face that was inundated with fatigue mere moments ago.

 A mother with two children who has been coming to this small store ever since you could remember. A week doesn't pass without her stopping by. Sometimes to buy bandages for her acholic husband who loves getting into fights. Other times she's buying necessities with the little money she could keep from her three jobs. Her life is another sorrowful story that’s twined into the streets of this neighborhood.

"Hello, how are you doing today?" you ask, tone gentle and polite as you help her empty her basket.

"I'm good darling. How have you been? You're looking a little pale." She responds, eyes etched with worry as they rack over your face.

Worry. It’s an emotion you’re so accustomed to getting by now. However, with her It's more than just petty wrapped with worry. She’s the third person to have told you today and your smile only ceases to flatter for a moment.

Truth is sleep hasn’t found home in you for a couple of days now. It’s a proclaimed miracle If you manage to get three hours of sleep that isn’t disturbed by unsettling nightmares. You’d like to blame that damned painting. It only started after your visit to that shitty museum.

You start scanning her things from canned beans to random bags of chips that are probably for her kids, you try to make it quick guessing she's probably rushing somewhere after this. It's how she always is.

"Yes, I've been very we–" you’re cut off by her worn out hand circling your wrist stopping your movement and when you look at her, questioning. She wears a deeper distressed expression.

"Oh my. You have grown so weak. Have you been eating, at all?" This time your smile crumbles, and you don’t react fast enough to keep it.

"I am very healthy don't worry. Exams season just ended so perhaps that's why." You reply with practiced excuses flying your mouth, you hope it’s big enough of a barrier for her not to notice the trembling of your lips.

Freeing your hand gently from her grip and resuming your work, you hope she doesn’t notice the pitiable fragility of a human that still coats you, your words are always colored in loneliness and an imbecilic need for someone to ask, to care. You miss the way her eyes linger on you in exactly that.

"You can have this." She tells you after you helped her put all her groceries into bags. Extending her hand out to you with a homemade sandwich in it. A warm smile sent your way is enough to have you vacillating.

Wondering how she manages to stay as warm as summer despite the number of betrayals she has been through, pain cladding every atom of her being and yet she manages to still be so kind. Alongside your perplexity, an odious feeling of envy blooms within you.

How lucky her children are. To have such a warm-hearted mother.

"I'm fine," you wave your hand dismissively "Please do not worry yourself-" you don’t even get to finish before Taeyeon is shoving the sandwich into your palms. Refusing to take no as answer.

"Thank you for everything, sweetheart." With another warm smile, she packs her four bags of groceries and leaves.

Perhaps you’ve had a rough week, the walls of your apartment have added a magnitude weight to your already dreadful despondency, as you stare down at the sandwich in your hands an uncanny urge clamber over you. To get out of here. To quit this stupid job, quit school. You were never lucky, but if you could get away, somewhere far away or maybe not even that far.

Maybe you could stop by the sea and cry your eyes out for a while. Spill your agony to the waves and abandon all your burdens into the unknown.

And maybe then just then you could be reborn as a different person. Was it a foolish yearning to have? To be someone else, someone who’s not this being seared with indelible scars?

Your questions, as always, stay unanswered as you pack the sandwich away and continue going through the dreadful hours of your shift.

It's when the clocks hit 10:30 pm that your stomach starts rumbling in hunger. A light humming noise fills the store as you plopped your sandwich into the microwave. Your fingers drumming against the counter as you look out the glass. Your eyes dance across the empty streets. It’s usually super slow at this time of the night, the store empty of customers and darkness fills the neighborhood. Streetlights flickering on and off, remaining brushed aside, not worthy enough to be fixed.

On

Off

On

Off

On.

A figure materializes on the sidewalk, as if they emerged from utter nothingness or magically brought forth from darkness, blending in with the night clad in black from head to toe. The drumming of your hand pauses, you can barely see anything from the distance, yet a daunting emotion slithers down your spine, evoking a shiver from you as if the person is looking straight at you.

You wait, brows furrowing together as unspecified anxiety manifests within you, working at a small convince store in one of the most impoverished neighborhoods in the city have made you tolerant of such disquiet. So, waiting for danger to unravel is more of a habit now. It’s only natural that you linger with unwavering gaze on the figure, with hope for them to do anything and help deny the looming thoughts that they're looking at you.

Beep Beep Beep!

Your body jolts in surprise, hand shooting to your heart in panic to calm the increasing speed, you turn to face the microwave.

 'I'm imagining things' you keep repeating to yourself.

The sandwich is still semi cold, so you start the microwave again giving it another ten more seconds.

The figure across the street has not moved an inch when you turn to face them once again. Telling yourself you’re being paranoid. That the enervation of the week is probably catching up to you, alongside your cruel nightmares, it’s added fuel to your anxiety. So, you try to ignore it, trying your best to act normally. Chewing on your sandwich once it’s done, forcing your eyes to focus on the screen small tv hung up in the corner, trying to find your interest in the news despite your mind protesting.

in a somber irony the news are talking about two gruesome crimes that the police believe are linked together, with anarchic deliberation you manage to catch a couple of things that are being said, something about dismembering body parts. With a swallow you turn the tv off with too much of a force.

Instinctively your eyes travel back to the sidewalk, the light flickers on to life and the figure is still there. A chill has the hairs on your arms arising, somehow the panic in you is amplified sending your fingers into a tremble. Your eyes flit to the clock hang on the wall for a second, it’s five more minutes until your shift ends and this person won’t move.

You grow agitated, chewing on your nails as you look back at the figure. And you watch, from a distance as they slowly raise their hand, your heart hammers against your chest, crippling anxiety taking over you when the person holds their palm up and then, they wave. Tilting their head to the side.

“What the fuck?” you mutter, legs shaking with actual fear at the realization that you were not imagining things. They were looking at you all along and now they’re fucking waving at you.

Oh my god they’re waving at you.

Amidst your raising perturbation, you grasp that you need to do something. You don’t feel safe and calling the police is the first option that comes to mind but what would you even say? There’s a weird person waving at me from across the street? And knowing the time that they would take to come to such a disreputable neighborhood? You’d be dead by then.

Maybe you should call someone. One of your friends? Someone can come and pick you up. But what if they take too long? The what ifs are almost endless as they come to your mind like crashing waves. You’re fully panicked now, chewing on your nails ferociously.

You look back at the figure, gaze hardened into a glare despite your petrified state. In your mind it might be enough to scare them away. A big truck passes by, beeping its horn and blocking your vision from the sidewalk. You wait for it to pass, as soon as the street comes back in view it's empty. The figure is nowhere to be seen. It's like they disappeared with the truck or with the wind. You blink multiple times, as if your mind had started playing tricks on you and yet the streets remains empty.

What the fuck

With shaky legs you grab the bat the store owner had placed for you -just in case things got rough one day- he had told you.

You walk out of the store, crossing the street with a jog, right to where the person was standing. The streetlight flickers for a split second on and off. Only enough for you to notice the small pool of liquid on the ground but it's too dark to tell exactly what it is. You squat down, placing the bat next to your feet. With furrowed brows your curiosity drives you to touch it with your finger. Bringing it to your nose, you grimace at the strong smell of metal.

A whirlwind of images flashes in your mind at an agonizingly familiar scent.

The light flickers back on and your eyes widen. Your stomach starts turning and turning in nausea, you feel the sandwich you just had come up. Bringing your palm right upon your mouth with a wrinkled nose, you attempt to push the feeling away. But your body shakes violently and you’re about to throw up.

It was blood.

You are panting, tears cling to your eyelashes in plaintive attempts to keep pieces of you together. As if you’re gonna end up falling apart if just one slips. You’re leaning your head against the wall, the cold bathroom floor makes your body shake, or perhaps it's because you just threw up violently not even two minutes ago. Your stomach aches in horrible pain, throat dry.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and trying to simmer down your shaking. before reaching in your pocket for your phone. Scrolling through your contacts you stop at the name you were looking for. Immediately pressing the call button, you wait.

"yn?" His voice comes like waves of comfort washing over your body. For a mere moment, you’re okay. Breath’s steadier, they flow through your body easier now.

 "Jaeyun," your voice is groggy, a giveaway of your distress that you cannot be witnessed with. Clearing your throat, you attempt to speak again "Can you p-please pick me up? I just finished work-"

you hear shuffling on other line, the sound of sheets being tossed like he's getting out of bed and culpability stirs within you. Knowing he was probably sleeping, and your call had woken him up.

"Are you okay?" He asks, voice heavy with sleep and you suck a deep breath in. contemplating on how to exactly answer him. Jaeyun was one of the few people you never seem to hide from. The truth spills from your mouth involuntarily.

"I'm okay," you attempt to reassure him "B-but please can you pick me up?" you ask, tone low with heedless reluctance.

You hear more shuffling on the other line, the sound of Jaeyun getting dressed and your heart is cradled with warmth at his unyielding care. With no questions directed at the obvious shakiness in your voice.

“I’m on the way yn, alright?” your tears come back faster than you anticipated, it has you biting on your quivering lower lip “alright? Need to hear you say it yn.” he asks again, and you nod your head ceaselessly.

“Okay.”

As soon as Jaeyun hangs up, you pull your knees to your chest and bury your head in them. Your shoulders hang heavy, as if the freight of the world’s anguishes deliquesces upon your flesh, encumbers them. Your stomach is constricting with pain and the same sickening nausea is building again. You can still smell the blood in your nose, as if you’re drenched in maroon.

The scent always sends you back to the same place, a reoccurring purgatory, where you’re sitting with your head in your knees just like right now. You’re covered in bruises and blood and the very same irritable nausea is evident there too. You’re too feeble, covered in mistakes and the indignation of your parents. Their arguing is a dull noise in the background, tear streaks are an eternal trace upon your cheeks.

You’re reprimanding yourself because you need to patch yourself up, you need to grow up. stop being such a spoiled kid. Just like how your mother always told you. And you try to listen. To obey, you try so hard to be good, you want to be good.

But the smell of metal is unbearable. As if it’s seared on your being, as if it’s a layer of your skin and no matter how many times you wash up, it’s burned into you.

You feel the cut on your knee bleeding, the liquid trickling down your leg.

Blue

Violet

Red

It’s all an interchangeable loop that you cannot seem to break free from, a curse that has been set on you the day you took your first breath in. torment runs through your veins and you’re nothing but a slave with an open chest. Accepting your fate is the only way. It’s in the way it all makes itself known to you, the option of running away, breaking free slips further away with your multiplying tears. It’s in the violent shudders wracking your body as you empty your stomach for the second time.

You sit on the floor of your parents’ dirty old bathroom floor, crying with crippling affliction and bleeding out with declaration of their callousness.

Nothing has seemed to change. Life always finds a way to cackle sardonically at you. You’re an adult now. Nowhere near your parents so how come you keep feeling like you never stepped foot outside that bathroom? How come every waking moment is haunted by the ghosts of your past. They’re vicious, with claws around your throat. The poison had long seeped in.

You cannot escape.

"Yn!" With that familiar voice you’re snapped back to your reality.

You look at the floor beneath you. And it’s dirty- disgusting really but it’s not your parents’ bathroom floor. There are no loud voices or shouting and yelling. There's just the sound of the sink running and It's just you.

You’re not hurt. You’re not a kid.

You make an attempt to stand up. Your body is still feeling a little weak and sluggish. Using the wall to support your weight, you take small steps towards the sink and close the running water. You hear footsteps growing closer and closer. But at this moment in time, you are not panicked. Instead, relief washes over you when the door opens and it's Jaeyun.

With eyes colored in concern he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

“yn,” he breathes out and you hug him back.

"I'm okay, Jae." You assure despite how your words flow out weak and choppy. Jaeyun squeezes you in his arms tighter.

Almost like you’ve been lost for years, and you’re finally found. You feel the same in a way.

When he pulls back his palms cradle your face gently, eyes darting over your figure in a rapid search for visible wounds and when he doesn’t find any, his brows furrow in confusion. You wonder what kind of panic you caused him.

"What happened?” he asks.

"Nothing." You answer, averting your eyes. afraid they will betray your wounds, display that your scars remain on your soul rather than your body.

Jaeyun doesn’t pressure you or ask you for anything further. With a tender smile he nods, because he always knows.

He helps you out the bathroom, hand on your waist in all too similar sentiment. And as he helps you collect your stuff, even closes the store for you, you find yourself being lulled into a comfort that only radiates from him. A too striking familiar of a scene as he helps you into his car, helping you put your seatbelt on with gentle touches, tender glances at your face.

It's all too sweet, a too striking familiar scene of what you guys once had. When you were his and he belonged to you. The world had stilled for a short while. The loop of agony paused, tricking you into a joy that was never meant to last. Because everything that ever belonged to you was only meant to fall apart, you were never foreordained to be a survivor.

You collapse each time, left behind to pick up the fragments of you. Always abandoned.

The drive to your apartment is silent, albeit Jaeyun glances being thrown at you occasionally, you keep yours stuck on the window. Watching as the world passes you by.

"We're here." he declares, coming to a stop in front of your apartment complex. You let out a breath.

"Thank you." you reply, looking at him with a forced practiced smile.

His eyebrows furrow and your smile only stretches wider, futile tries to hide.

"Are you sure you’re okay?" He asks with concern laced in his voice that you turn a blind eye to. You’re starting to feel choked up with the storm of emotions you went through tonight and right now you want nothing but to go inside your apartment, maybe have a good cry then sleep it all away.

"Yes."

You watch with confusion as he turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt, inching closer to you. Inadvertently you lean back, your back hits the door and when his hand finds your thigh, he squeezes, your body trembles with a slight jump.

“Sorry.” He mummers awkwardly, taking his hand off.

"It's okay. I'm just shaking because it's probably cold outside." You say softly. And his eyes find yours with evident brittle emotions swimming in them.

"yn." He calls for you like he used to. With a voice as sweet as honey and deeper than oceans. You’re taken aback to when there was a sparkle between you, before he burned you with it.

Your eyes fall shut and this time his hand finds your cheek with a caress, you let him. Your heart doesn’t skip beats the same way it used to, in an ironic way it’s only a reminder of the ashes left between you two. You feel his breath hit your face, and when you open your eyes, he’s so close, your melancholy is tempting you to give in.

"What are you doing?" you whisper, shaking your head. He ignores you, his other hand sneaking to your waist and you attempt to back away even more in the cramped space.

"We can't do this Jaeyun." You stop him with a hand to his chest, his heartbeat reverberates against your palm.

"Why not? I still want you." His confidence makes you waver. The ache in your chest tells you it will only ever be soothed by the touch of his lips, yet you find yourself unable to give in, avoiding his gaze as your eyes fall upon your lap. An unwieldy silence swirls in the air yet again. He takes it as sign to back off, his hands leaving your body alongside his warmth.

"Why did you call me?" He asks after a while "Why did you call me out of all the people you know?" You know exactly which answer he's looking for and if you were somewhere else. Somewhere where you felt like you could belong to him. Like he could heal all the wounds you believed he would maybe you would have been able to give it to him.

"Because you're the only one who knows about my panic attacks."

He lets out a sound of disbelief, his face crumbling with disillusionment. And when he falls back in his seat with nothing to say, you unbuckle your seat and get out of the car.

"Thank you and goodnight." you say closing the door hoping he had heard you and the wind did not steal your words.

12:45am                                                                                                               7th of January

your phone stared back at you in full brightness. In contrast with the dim lights flashing across your features. Purple, dark green and blue.

There's a light buzz in your system, evoked by the few glasses of alcohol you had been sipping on throughout the night. A thin layer of sweat covers your forehead despite how cold it is outside. The remaining liquor in your cup is tempting you.

Sunoo’s head is on your shoulder, adding unwanted weight to your body "He’s not eben hat hot, ight?" his words slur together, meshing into somewhat a coherent sentence that he whines out. You follow his gaze that of course lands on none other than Minji, her body swaying to the music with some guy that you recognize from one of your classes. Her arms circle his neck, a huge smile on her face the darker her eyes get with overflowing lust.

Even from this distance you could see it all. Sunoo clings to you further, leg thrown over your lap, almost engulfing your body entirely. His breath reeks of cheap vodka when another whine escapes him.

"yn, 'm hotter yea?"

You hastily drink the very little liquor left in your cup.

"You're so much hotter babe." Sunoo hums happily at your answer, closing his eyes as he nuzzles his face into your neck.

You could only exhale loudly, starting to feel a little choked up with this proximity. You’re not drunk enough to be dealing with this cat and mouse game Sunoo and Minji like to play. you haven’t been present enough mentally this semester to see it all unfold. you just know that somewhere between the first and the second week Heeseung had found you during lunch, mouth agape as he whispered in disbelief;

"Did you know Sunoo and Minji fucked?"

All hell broke loose since that day. Sunoo who's hopelessly in love and Minji who won't commit or be tied down by anyone. It's a classic tale really, a chess game that you had participated in before. It isn't hard to tell who's gonna win, there's no competition here. You just wish Sunoo would realize that too.

"You okay?" Heeseung all but yells at you, loud enough to hear him over the roaring music as he plops down on the couch next to you. His hand brushes your fringe out your face and away from your sweaty forehead.

"Uh huh," Heeseung isn't looking at you though, eyes glued to the awkward girl standing by the stairs. Fidgeting with the red cup between her hands, looking around in what seem to be anxiety. She looks innocent, a lost look in her eyes that gives away the fact that she's a freshman.

She's Heeseung's favorite type of preys.

"Good, good." He says absentmindedly, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes rake over the girl's body. His hand travels from your hair to the back of your neck, squeezing. 

You roll your eyes, already knowing what’s about to come, witnessed the words tumble out his lips repeatedly.

"I'm gonna go get some ass, yn" He decides loudly. Taking what's left from Sunno’s drink and chugs it down. He then gets up, rolling his shoulders and with confident strides makes his way to the girl. You watch as Heeseung puts on his usual charming smile, all warm and inviting. A blush dark enough to be seen by you on the girl's cheek as they start chatting.

You grow a little miffed. Feeling like you’ve been ditched by all your friends and left to deal with a very drunk Sunoo. This was definitely not what you had in mind when you agreed to come to this party. You untangle yourself from Sunoo with force, the older all but whines refusing to let go.

“I’m just gonna go get a drink,” you tell him and he only whines in response, not a word was probably registered.

You stumble, feet almost interlocking but you manage to stand straight. Your own blushed cheeks are evidence of your tipsiness. Not drunkenness. You’re not there yet. You feel like you’re swimming through a sea of people as you push between them, your knit white sweater gets stuck in someone's bracelet. A string of apologies spills from your mouth. It’s the only few mishaps that manage to unfold before your night passes by with you drowning yourself in liquor.

It's only a few hours later that feels closer to years have passed by. You find yourself in one of the few open rundown 7/11 with Heeseung and a sobered-up Sunoo slurping spicy noodles. Your mind a little less cloudless, limbs aching as you stand up.

“I’m gonna get some air.” You tell your friends, stretching your arms above your head. Sunoo only makes a noise of acknowledgement with his mouth full.

“Don’t walk too far.” Heeseung tells you, eyes lingering on the back of your head as you wave your hand at him.

The frigid air hits you square in the face as you pull your jacket around you tighter, wrapping your arms around yourself in search of warmth. the cheap fabric fails to provide such. 

Keeping Heeseung’s words in mind, you don’t walk too far from the store, finding a bench close by that you settle upon with a sigh. Closing your eyes and breathing in fresh air. Your head grows a tad clearer. A comforting buzz settles in your being instead and despite the dull ache in your body, you feel okay.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?” your eyes fall open, flitting to the source of the voice. It’s a middle-aged man so clearly high off his mind. A familiar sight in these streets.

You ignore him, too used to such situations.

“Didn’t your parents tell you it’s rude to ignore people?” When he speaks this time you glare at him, a scowl taking place upon your face.

“Fuck off old man.” You spit, tone imbued with indignation despite the tremble manifesting in your clenched fingers, nails digging into the insides of your palms.

“Watch your mouth bitch.” The man all but grunts, taking a step towards you, you brace yourself to run, your muscles growing rigid. Your palms are growing sweaty.

Just as the man takes another step towards you, you feel a presence behind you, the man’s eyes darting elsewhere.

“She told you to fuck off. Are you fucking deaf?” the voice is overfamiliar. Velvety smooth as it rings in your ears, evoking beats from your heart this time not out of perturbation. It’s something closer to exhilaration.

The man grumbles, a frown on his aged-up face as he glares at you then turns around and walks the other way. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your shoulders going lax as you turn your head, a familiar face of a stranger comes into view.

White as snow, dark as night and that same dizzying scent. heady and sweet.

It’s the same face that has haunted your mind longer than you’d ever admit, taking space you weren’t aware you’re willing to give. His eyes are hardened into a glare, glued to the back of the man’s head until he’s far enough to not be seen that they flit to you.

Just like the first time you saw him he’s clad in everything black, yet this time instead of formal attire it’s a hoodie and black jeans. Clear glasses on his face yet he remains prettier than any magnificent piece of art you had the pleasure to witness.

The way his gaze palliates instantly has your chest tightening, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as a wind passes you by, somehow drowning you deeper into his intoxicating aroma.

“Are you okay?” His tone is so much softer, tender compared to the way he spoke mere seconds ago.

“Y-Yes. Thank you.” your words come out ignominiously scattered, tinted by your clear nerves that you cover up with a flimsy excuse, alcohol.

“You shouldn’t be alone this late at night. It’s dangerous, pretty girl.” He reprimands genially and your face burns, at the endearment, at his tone and more than anything at the tilt of his lip. A charming smile taking place onto his face, in contrary to how he was willing to shoot the man with his eyes not even minutes ago.

“I’m not alone. I’m waiting for my friends.” You lie, for unidentified incentives that you don’t even want to think about. It’s all deemed worthy when he tilts his head at you with a hum. A glint in his eyes and you’re overtaken by peculiar emotions. Rushing through you all the same as your last meeting.

“Shall I wait with you then?” he says, walking till he’s next to you, and you try hard not to stare at him, but it is reckoned unfeasible when he is so implausibly gorgeous.

You will enough strength to not to think about the way his necklace dangles when he leans down to take a seat next to you. Try hard not to imagine the same way his necklace would dangle over you if he was on top of you.

A space you hate remains between you two and you berate yourself, no amount of tipsiness should allow you to be this way.

“Don’t you remember me?” you ask. His eyes prance over your features in what seems to be attempts to recall where he had seen you before. You wither just a bit in disappointment, a strange hope in you dwindles ever so slightly.

Was it too ambitious of you to hope to take space in his mind as well?

“Ah! We met at the museum. Didn’t we?” his brows rise in recognition.

“We did.” You nod, chuckling nervously as you push strands of your hair behind your ears. You miss the way his eyes darken at your apparent shyness.

Above you the sky darkens just the same, collecting gray clouds as if to match his soul.

“It would be absolutely mad of me not to remember such a pretty face.” The words tumble out his lips so deftly, yet they remain brimming with intensity, and they manage to tinge your cheeks a darker shade of pink, a deplorable exhibit of your heartstrings being played with so effortlessly.

"Do you always flirt with people like this?" you ask, a playful smile tilting your lips upwards.

"I'm glad my attempts at flirting are being acknowledged," he replies, the same playfulness dances around his face and when his eyes dip to your lips for a moment before they’re flitting back to your eyes, it is enough to have your breath hitching.

There's a moment of silence that falls over you, it isn't necessarily awkward, yet the tension encloses itself around your neck, embraces you with a threat of bad decisions. At this moment, they don’t look bad enough.

The short silence is interrupted when you shiver, the cold remains cruel against your cheap clothing.

“Are you cold?” he asks, seeming to notice it all.

“A bit.” You admit, burying your hands in- between your thighs in search of warmth. He eyes your action carefully, and then he moves to take off his hoodie, left only in his turtleneck.

Extending it to you.

“Oh you don’t have to-“you attempt to refuse, shaking your head but he doesn’t let you finish, throwing the fabric onto your lap.

“Wear it.” Perhaps it’s the way his tone is so authoritative it has you crumbling quickly, not fighting back as you put it on, his scent engulfs you and your body rises in temperature instantaneously

“Are you perhaps afraid to look at me?" he asks when you keep your eyes on your tangled fingers, his tone is taunting, an underline of mockery prevails there.

A challenge presents itself to you and you swallow it up, head snapping to look at him with faux confidence clambering over your being. He smirks, somehow managing to remain doused in otherworldly beauty and something akin to victory ceases his eyes.

You wonder how it is possible to have such absurd desires like wishing you’re a mere emotion fortunate enough to flow within him. You must be going insane with loneliness.

"Why would I be?" your eyebrow raises, a plaintive venture to take the lead in whatever dance you’re having.

Something manages to coexist in the middle of all the loneliness meshing with your bones. A feeling akin to curiosity, excitement. A feeling that seems dangerous, a fire that will surely inundate you the longer you stay here.

Eyes midnight black, half lidded, stare back at you. Refusing to back down.

“Your eyes are prettier when they’re looking at me.” your confidence leaves, shattered as soon as it comes, the tips of your ears turning red and the flattery waters your heart so facilely. Your heart hammers against your chest, as if begging to be let out and you almost want to do just that.

At the realization that you lost so quickly you wish to throw up your heart, welcoming your defeat with open arms.

“If you’re gonna keep flirting with me, at least tell me your name.” You mumble, loud enough for your words not to be stolen by the wind and he chuckles.

“Are you interested in me?”

“Stop please.” You whine, bringing your palms to your cheeks. You’re so hot you could melt right on this seat.

“I’m only teasing, darling.”

“Well stop teasing me.” his eyes grow fond at the pout taking place on your face, you seem to be unaware of how utterly adorable you are.

“How about this,” he turns his body towards you, arms crossed on his chest, and you try your hardest not to stare” I have a little game for you if you manage to solve it then I’ll tell you, my name.” he suggests and you contemplate on what to say, yet you find yourself nodding.

“Give me your arm.” He whispers, inching closer to you and you do as he says, embarrassingly fast as if you were desperate to please, desperate for a glimpse of a smile from a stranger as you extend your arm towards him.

His touch is delicate as his fingers inch the sleeves of your (his) hoodie upwards, it has goosebumps erupting on your skin, setting your body ablaze and your breaths grow labored when his eyes catch yours, pulling you into him with a vigorous force

“I’m gonna write something on your arm and you have to guess it, simple yeah?” his voice is low as if he’s afraid to break whatever hue the both of you have fallen into and your lips separate with a familiar softness “okay.” You whisper back, the quirk of his lips, ever so slightly has a whimper bubbling at the back of your throat.

His nimble fingers feel cold against your skin, keeping his eyes fixated on your face as his fingers irritatingly, deliberately trace syllables upon your arm.

“Can you tell me what I just wrote?” You blink at him, realizing you have paid no attention whatsoever, instead all you did was stare at him, wandering in your own thoughts that are evoked by him.

“Sorry,” you clear your throat, attempting to pull yourself together “do it again.” You tell him and his lips twitch upwards in a way that slightly piques you. his fingers start tracing letters upon the skin of your arms again and this time, you pay your utmost attention to every move, every brush of his fingers.

“I can?” you answer when he pauses with a question in his gaze.

“Yes, good.” He resumes moving his fingers.

“I can, see?”

“Mhm.” You furrow your brows, seeming to have lost track and he’s lenient enough to do it again.

Your mouth shaping around the words fleeing to your mind, his stare stays affixed on your lips. A foreboding glint manifests in his stare, till yours widen, overtaken by brief triumph.

“I can see you! That’s what you wrote. I can see you.” you exclaim, excitedly. A gleam enough to blind anyone with your smile that has him chuckling and shaking his head.

“Hold on, I’m not done yet.”

“Oh,” you settle down with pink cheeks, embarrassed.

As his fingers move against your skin anew, akin to strokes of a paintbrush inundated with iciness, a benevolence lingers at the tips of his fingers. It’s competent at eliciting a shiver to run down your spine, your heart pulsating.

I

Can

See

Your

Just as he’s tracing what you assume to be the last word on your arm, the sky blights your little bubble, breaking through it with force as droplets of water hit your face. You look up at the sky as it starts to rain and his stays on your face.

As if feeling his stare slowly you find him, and then just like the first time you saw him he captures you in place. A hue of vulnerability and a sense of endearment colors his gaze. Just like the dewdrops of rain it grazes the surface of your heart prominently.

Inchmeal, he pulls the hood of the garment over your head, sheltering you from the rain and you hold your breath, waiting, anticipating for something as ardent as the feelings splashing across his face.

“Yn!” you hear Heeseung’s voice call for you from behind “Come on! Let’s go home.”

In a mere second, his eyes dart behind you before they’re back on you, he smiles, irreconcilable with how grim the sky looks above you.

Heady and sweet.

“Go.” He tells you, voice low and perhaps it was the tilt of his lips that has you obligating with a silent nod.

Your friends are not sober enough to ask you who you were with, and you colored with shades of red, attraction.

It is a veil against the questions that should be alarming like why a man with a such an expensive watch around his wrist lurking around this side of the city.

With a hand on your hip, eyes filled with flames of irritation you glare at an unconscious Heeseung sprawled on your couch. With a snore loud enough for you to grow deaf. Evidence of last night’s chaos lies on the ground. Empty bags of chips and empty beer cans.

You had awakened with a slight ache forming in the temples of your head, a myriad of visions conquering your mind, mainly of your mystifying encounter with the handsome stranger.

With a shake of your head, you take a seat on the small coffee table that's facing your worn-out couch. Your eyes stilling on your friend's peaceful sleeping face, too peaceful. delivering a hard jab to his side, the latter barely feels it, only groaning in response. You huff, reaching for his cheek and pinching, hard. And that seems to do the job because Heeseung’s eyes shoot open, slapping your hand away with enormous potency.

"Ow! what the hell?" He whines, rubbing his now reddening cheek.

"Had to wake you up somehow." You say with a shrug, getting up and walking to your kitchen, another overly dramatic whine of his has you rolling your eyes.

"You're fucked in the head, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah" you sip on your water, Heeseung shuffles from behind you, yawning as he leans his head on your shoulder, his body almost engulfing yours with his weight, arms wrapping around your waist in search for warmth, the morning weather remains frigid, sweeping in through the thin walls of your apartment.

“You’re heavy Hee and your breath stinks.” You sigh and he hums, making no effort to move away.

“Last night was interesting.” He says into your neck.

“Was it?”

“Who was that guy you were with?” your hand stills around the glass, had not expected such question.

“You saw us?” you retort, tilting your head to look at him.

“I did.” His arm loosens from around your waist to dawdle past you to brew some coffee, in search for some needed energy “so who was he? Mr. glasses?” he leans his elbow on the counter, facing you with a scrutinizing gaze.

You busy your fingers with toying with the plate of grapes in front of you, an awkward avoidance drapes over you.

“Just some guy.” You shrug.

“Didn’t take you as the type to chill in the middle of the night with just some guy.”

“I don’t know him Heeseung. We met once at some museum, and I just randomly saw him again last night.”

He keeps quiet, pursuing his lips. Seemingly not awake enough to register anything that meaningful. At his speech impediment, you take your glass with you, and settle upon your couch with a sigh, relaxing into the cushions. Heeseung follows you shortly after, his own cup of coffee in his hands.

“Jaeyun has been blowing up my phone.” He starts, sitting way too closely next to you.

“So?”

“He said you guys almost kissed in his car the other night.”

"I don't even understand why he's telling you all this shit." You mummer with an exhale, running your hands through your hair warily.

"He's just venting you know he has no one." You know he’s right, but it doesn’t lessen how hard the strings of irritation are pulling at you.

"Stop telling me about it then."

"Okay someone's in a bitch mood." Heeseung grumbles, hands up in surrender.

His eyes shift to your face, seeming to notice the bags under your eyes, the fatigue pasting itself to you almost invariably these days, wordlessly he pulls you into him, arms around your shoulders and you go easily, his touches, as gentle and warm as ever.

“I hope you’re being careful, angel.”

You keep quiet, eyes zeroed in on his cup of coffee.

You are walking home from work.

The sun has set too early, and the streets are sinisterly empty. The lights flicker;

 on

off

on

off

you’re feeling cold, you can barely feel the tips of your fingers and It's oddly windy, you’re clad in nothing, but a tank top and your mind is hazy. You can’t seem to recall where your jacket is. Did you leave it at home, or did you end up leaving it at the store? You wield yourself to remember yet nothing.

You pass by a clock that's arbitrarily tossed upon the cracked ground of the street, for an unspecified reason you go and pick it up. It’s pointing at 11, slowly turning to 12 and before you could blink the clock wire starts moving inhumanly fast, turning and you grow dizzy. Throwing it back on the ground as you bring your palm to your temples with a groan.

The clock disappears as soon as it touches the pavement.

I need to go home.

Your head is now pounding, legs wobbly as you stumble on the sidewalk. Your vison blurry and your chest tightens with insignificant trepidation.

I need to go home

I need to go home

I need to go home

You hear footsteps behind you and your chest tightens even more, breathing grows to be a harder task and you’re panting, terror nestles its way into you uninvited and hastily. You don’t need to look behind you to feel alarmed, instead your weak legs attempt to pick up speed, a futile way to flee from whatever danger lingering behind. abruptly pain spreads across the bottom of your feet as if you’re running on endless needles, it’s unbearable and you’re struggling to breathe, panting loudly yet no air seems to make its way into your throat. As if steel is lodged in the middle.

The footsteps grow closer and closer to you, agonizingly taunting, you can’t move when you feel a presence behind you, feel their breath hit the back of your neck and with one swift move, you feel a hand circle your wrist, its grip unrelenting and your body grows frail, unable to fight back.

You look down at the hand holding onto you and all you see is red blood. Dripping everywhere, down your wrist staining you. Your mouth opens with a scream but it’s silent, no sound can be heard.

With a frightened expression and widened gaze, you look up at the guy, with an unrecognizable face, he’s doused in blackness. It flings your soul into a substantial pool of horrific panic. You try to break free, your fingers twisting but to no avail. His grip is too strong, your own body too weak to fight back. You try to scream again, yelling to be let go and yet just the same it’s silent.

Your free hand touches your face only to realize your mouth has been sewn shut.

Suddenly the sky above you color with grey clouds and it starts to rain drops of crimson.

The scent of metallic invades your nostrils, you taste it on your tongue and your known nausea builds alarmingly swiftly. You only register your tears spilling out your eyes when the guy tackles you to the ground. His body is akin to a block of metal on top of you.

He starts to cackle at you, you can feel your heart beating its way out of your chest, loud and painful. You’re terrified, covered in blood and incapable of catching your breath.

There’s a knife in his hand, as his laughter gets louder and louder ringing in your ears, the blade cuts through your chest. He craves out your heart and you lie there, watching as he brings it to his mouth with a smile so wide and chews on it.

You can’t move, you can’t speak, you have no one to help you.

You wake up with a gasp, eyes lined with tears and shaking with tremors of terror running through your limbs. You look around and your panic subsides with an exhale, realizing you’re on your bed, in your room.

A wave of relief washes over you, like splashed cold water. It was just a bad dream. A really bad dream. Unwittingly your palm sprawls over your chest, right where your heart is and another exhale escapes you, it’s beating and it’s still here.

You’re okay, everything is okay.

Checking your phone, you scroll the seemingly monotonous messages from your friends. You had finished classes early and decided to go back home and nap before your planned study session with them. Your body has been feeling weak these few past days. Ever since your encounter with the pretty stranger, surely staying under the rain that late at night wasn’t the smartest decision. Despite it being short-lived it was more than enough for your frail body to fall apart with a sore throat and a runny nose. A flu lurks around the corner, and you know it’s coming.

Your eyes flit to the now washed hoodie you hung on the door of your closet, a constant reminder that whatever you felt was real. A hope etched onto the fabric for another chance, to see him.

You get ready in a haze, mind a little numb and limbs dragging with a dire ache. Heeseung ends up picking you up and he keeps rambling the whole ride about a new video game he needs to buy. You keep quiet, looking out the window, although your nap you still feel weary, head buzzing with recollection of the nightmare you had. You had an inkling that it was about the figure you saw outside your work a couple of weeks ago.

Although you’re accustomed to being surrounded by fret you never knew yourself to be this paranoid. You can't decide if you’re being way too anxious about such a minuscule matter, or you aren’t giving it enough magnitude.

You meet Sunoo and Minji outside the library, a small and cute one just around the corner from a cafe that you used to work at. Although it’s closed now.

The owner – who was a kind old man – had decided to close it after three years because he couldn't handle the terrible loss of his son and moved back to his hometown. You never knew the exact details of the incident.

The tension swirling in the air is hefty enough for you to feel it, somehow adding heaviness to your shoulders as your eyes dart between the two. Unresolved conversation hangs between them and it’s evident enough in the way there’s a frown plastered on Minji’s face. An avoidance in Sunoo’s gaze.

"Should we go for karaoke after?" Heeseung suggests as soon as you step foot inside, with an arm around your shoulder he brings you closer to him. It’s a salient striving to lighten the mood.

It earns him a glare from Minji who seems to have little to zero tolerance loitering in her.

“We have no time for bullshit. We came here to finish this stupid project.” She huffs and Heeseung holds his hands up in surrender.

“Damn okay. Chill.” He mummers and you chuckle, adjusting the falling strap of your tote bag.

On the contrary, Sunoo’s expression turns sour, his brows knitting together and his words fall like bombs that have been on edge, waiting to find a chance to be let loose “He obviously meant when we’re finished with our work.” He grumbles, voice laced with evident venom, Heeseung agrees with a nod.

"And you seriously think we're gonna have time to do anything? The due date is literally tomorrow." Minji retorts with an equal amount of venom tinting her tone.

You sigh at the glare the librarian throws your group, noticing the disturbance your discussion has caused across the stillness of the place “Can you guys cut it out and start actually doing your work?” the three of them look at you in union, nothing is said back at you and with a pleased nod you take a seat at one of the nearest tables. Your friends follow silently, unpacking their stuff, immersed in their work.

"yn," Heeseung calls. Brushing his shoulder against yours. His eyes are wide in a plea and a pout on his lips.

"What?" you ask with imitated disgust.

"Can you help me with this?" his pout intensifies as he points at the part he's confused about, batting his lashes at you and you bite back a smile as you lean over, bangs falling over your eyes and inattentive to the way Heeseung’s expression melts into an unfamiliar tenderness, gaze serious.

The question was related to personality psychology. You and he had decided to enroll in the course together. Thinking it would be easier if you had someone with you. It slipped your mind that one; Heeseung is an idiot at everything except for math and two; your attention span has been all over the place lately. Dozing off in almost every class.

"Sorry you're gonna need to help yourself because I don't understand it either." You say, patting his shoulder.

Heeseung looks away promptly leaving you with no answer and despite your perplexity at his behavior you don’t dwell on it. Putting your earbuds in and taking out your own notes to start studying.

A couple of hours have passed, Minji and Sunoo are much more mitigated, the air flows lighter and you can’t help the smile that disperses across your face at the sight of them working closely together. You stretch your arm above your head with an exhale, feeling your back muscles relax.

Leaning your chin on the palm of your hand, you look out the window. catching sight of the rain outside. Taking out your earbuds, the sound of raindrops hitting the window reverberates throughout the tranquil silence disseminating the place. It stirs a welcomed alleviation within you. Days of overworking yourself alongside the lack of sleep catches up to you, fatigue sears itself onto your being and you lie your head on the table. Eyes pasted on the dewdrops trailing down the window leisurely.

Minji's and Sunoo hushed conversation starts to feel like white noise. You fall into a distance lullaby and right at this mere moment you feel like you could relax for the first time in a while. A feeling so foreign you’re almost too afraid to settle in.

As your eyes grow heavier with sleep, you notice a familiar figure pass by in front of the window. Impossible to forfeit, amongst the crowd and the countless umbrellas there’s just no way for you to miss him. Not when he’s been haunting your mind for stretching hours. Not when your head hits the pillow and the only plaguing your thoughts are the words he traced upon your skin, as if tattooed by flames you cannot seem to relinquish.

You shoot up from your chair, your tiredness long obliterated as your eyes frantically follow him. The conversation of your friends dies down, their focus shifting on you with concern etched onto their features

"Are you okay?" Sunoo asks, his eyes shifting to where you’re looking.

"Yn?" Heeseung calls out to you.

But you’re impotent. Your attention stolen and you’re incapable of registering a word that’s being said to you.

"Sorry guys, I’ll be right back." You speak in a hurry, shoving your phone deep into your pocket and quickly storming out of the library. The rain is unforgiving as it dawns on your being, drenching you and earning you a few disdainful looks from the people passing by.

You don’t recognize yourself, you’re not usually like this. And you try to grasp meaning of your behavior, yet you’re empty handed, filled with a baffling urge for a glimpse of this man who’s nothing but a stranger to you. Perhaps it was the wind of grotesque emotions flinging through the air every time you two spoke, his few words have stuck in your mind like a record that won’t stop playing and no matter how many times you listen, you’re still scuffling to find elucidation.

Perhaps you were just edging yourself into deliration.

"What am I doing." You mumble to yourself as you’re about to go inside, you notice him at the end of the crossroad.

You stand still for three full seconds.

On the first one your brain chastises you, stridently yelling at you why do you care over and over again.

On the second one you shift onto rationality telling yourself to go back inside the library and continue the life you’re so used to. Where no weird guys you’re fascinated with exist and you act like a different version of yourself.

On the third one you start sprinting because the man takes a right turn, and you need to catch up. Water splashes under your feet as you gather whatever robustness is left in your body.

You don’t give room for yourself to abide on any raising questions in your head, like what would you possibly say to him if you caught up to him? You have no idea how you could explain this peculiar urge to see him again? Was this behavior odd enough for you to be deemed a stalker?

The space between you two grows smaller, your shorter legs remain lacking for you to fully catch up when he takes a turn to his right, you follow right after with a panting chest. Your feet come to a stop as the sight of an empty alleyway comes into view. Your brain racing with confusion that clampers over your face just the same. You attempt to look further yet only bags of trash greet you. The wetness of the rain mixing in with it makes the scent horrendous.

"Are you following me?" You jolt in surprise; a discernible gasp tumbles out your lips.

You swivel around, coming face to face with your desired target who stays as breathtaking as ever. Shrouded in black formalwear and hair styled to perfection, his glasses hang at the tip of his nose, His hand holding onto an umbrella while the other is buried in his pocket.

He’s a striking image of an ardent artist’s majestic creation, diabolically ethereal, nothing less. You in contrast, a ball of predicament, hair wet and a heaving chest.

"I wasn't." You answer shortly, an idiotic attempt to grasp control over the situation.

If the raise of his brow is anything to go by, he doesn’t buy it and you cannot blame him.

"Oh really?" he muses, taking a few steps towards you, a smirk curling at the end of his lips and you hold your breath in guilt.

He tilts his umbrella to you, harboring you from the rain.

He looks down at you, eyes dark and it is enough to set your cheeks ablaze, a blush mortifyingly potent enough to travel all the way to your ears. Your heart skips beat almost appallingly, loud enough you grow fearful he might be able to hear it. It sends you into enough panic to forget about how uncomfortable your clothes feel, sticking to your body.

“You shouldn’t be out without an umbrella when it’s raining this hard.” He reprimands, tone gentle.

“I know.” Sweat beads start cumulating at your forehead, albeit the frigid weather, your body growing hot.

“Where are you heading? I’ll take you.” he asks, tilting his head at you, a smile just as tender as the one that colors his voice, and you shake your head at him in disregard.

“Or would you like to admit now that you were following me?”

“I-I wasn’t following you!” you sputter, nowhere near convincing.

“I’m only teasing, darling.” He chuckles, a sound so strangely compelling, an urge crawls over you, so foolish like saving the sound between the palms of your hands alongside his sweet endearment.

“Aren’t you scared, to be here with me alone?” he deliberately asks, voice lowered.

“y-you don’t seem dangerous. Besides you saved me from that old man last time so.” You trail off, bunglingly and he hums, gauging the way you almost curl into yourself with precious diffidence.

Your eyes darts to his momentarily, holding you captive with manacles coaxed with deviant cravings, it tastes like candied impulses you wish to give into, it feels like addictive fire upon your skin ignited by his gaze.

Your body is overwhelmingly hot so that exhaling grows to be a harder task.

"We seem to always meet when it's raining." You whisper, traversing through the silence.

"I guess so." He hums, keeping his eyes on you “were you keeping track of our meetings?” He follows with a question, you dare with collected vigor not to look away despite the way your cheek burns so profoundly it feels excruciating.

“It’s hard not to.” You admit.

“How come?”

You chew on your lower lip, brain turning to putty, just like melting ice cubes under the vehemence of his stare. You aren’t feeling well, gravely trying to come up with a tolerable fib to spill. Yet the wheels in your head feel like they have turned rusty, unable to turn quick enough. The blink of your eye takes longer to unfold.

“they’re fascinating to say the least.”  You settle with the truth.

“Mm. are they or do you find me fascinating?”

“Do you always ask random strangers this many questions?” you huff out, you’re growing dizzy, your knees unsteady.

“Do you always follow strangers into alleyways?”

“No.” you answer, airily.

He takes a few steps towards you, closing the already very small distance separating you. Tentatively he brings his hand up to your face, with the back of his fingers he caresses your forehead so delicately, your eyelids fall shut, missing the way his eyebrow shoot up in surprise.

“You’re very warm. Are you alright?” his words fall upon your ears laboriously, like they echo within your being, and it takes longer than necessary for you to find meaning in them.

“’m okay.” You murmur, absentmindedly stumbling forward and resting your forehead against his shoulder, his body aids in providing comfort you didn’t realize you needed.

“I don’t think so darling. Are you friends near?” he asks, and you shake your head, his arm wrapping around your shoulders vigilantly. It spreads a pleasant buzz throughout your body,

You’re so tired you want to go to sleep.

“I’m gonna take you to my house. Okay? We need to take care of you, it seems you’re running a fever.” you think you answer, or maybe you nod your head. You aren’t very sure.

All you know is that you felt indisputable comfort in a sustained amount of time.

When you awake, you’re met with a foreign ceiling. It’s painted with spatters of colors atop one another. Dominated by three shades black, white and red. They expand into bigger arbitrarily sketches you’re not sentient enough to understand just yet. It’s very well done, inherently distinctive that you can tell it’s painted by the hands of whoever is residing here.

You sit up with a groan, twined with the throb of your forming headache. Pressing your thumbs into your temples, it is not even close pressure for the pain to subside. Blinking, your eyes take a swift look around the room you’re in. The space larger than your entire apartment.

You don’t get to linger in how much money this man has before you hear the door clicking open.

"Oh, you're awake?" He asks, Looking fresh out of the shower, with slightly damp hair and barefaced.

His black clothes are now replaced with a white button-up dress shirt and black formal pants. You slightly raise your eyebrows at the choice of clothes. His hair leaves droplets of water on his shirt leaving some spots transparent.

"Did I pass out?" you ask, voice just a tad groggy, your eyes following him as he turns his back to you, fetching something from the coffee table that you didn’t even notice.

Just how big is this room?

“No. you just fell asleep.” He answers, turning to face you with a cigarette dangling from his lips, unlit while a lighter curls between the fingers of his other hand. The twitch of his lips is enough evidence of how comical he finds this to be.

“Oh.” You trail off, face burning.

As he walks to you, the intensity in his gaze remains as suffocating as flower petals blooming in the middle of your throat, you don’t allow yourself to breath as his slender fingers graze your forehead, your fists curling onto the sheets.

“Your fever has gone down. Thankfully.” He says, voice muffled by the stick between his lips.

His black hair drips water on your bare thighs causing you to shiver. It's cold. At the realization you look down at your lap, noting you’re not wearing any pants, clad in an unfamiliar sweatshirt.

“D-did you change my clothes?” you stammer, your cheeks falling into a darker shade.

“I couldn’t put you to bed with soaked clothes. Could I?”

“Well y-yeah.”

“I’m just teasing, darling.” He starts, his eyes skimming across your blushing face with relish “My maid changed your clothes for you. I’m a gentleman after all I wouldn’t undress you without your consent.”

“Gosh this is so fucking embarrassing. I’m sorry.” You whine, covering your face with your palms in hopes to somehow dissipate into air, or let this be another stupid nightmare of yours.

“Which is, the fact that you fell asleep on me or that you talked in your sleep about how handsome you think my face is?”

“Oh my god!” you exclaim, horrified at the information, you curl into yourself further. The way he chuckles so lightheartedly doesn’t make it any less humiliating.

"Would you like some food?" he asks, his finger brushing across your arm causing goosebumps to arise.

“No.” you groan “I wanna go home or maybe throw myself out the window.”

“Now you’re hurting me.” you peak at him through your fingers, expecting a teasing smirk to be displaying yet you’re met with an odd solemnity.

"I made some soup for you-" He pauses to light his cigarette, taking a deep inhale and puffing out the smoke. You watch with unalloyed attention as he throws the lighter on the table next to the bed mindlessly.

There’s an anomalous elegancy that coats his every move, enough to have you enchanted.

"So, you should really have some." He finishes, dark eyes finding yours with unfaltering assertiveness that has you silently nodding.

You cannot give voice to your emotions, not when he’s an embodiment of everything beauty gets the pleasure to breathe into. It’s an unyielding attraction, one that you cannot seem to scrimmage against, ideally you bare your neck, waiting to feel his teeth on your throat.

At your approval, he sends you a gentle smile, like a soothing wave of comfort descending upon your body that has been drowning in exhaustion. It’s ill-fitted, compared to his dusky room, or the cigarette slotted between his lips.

“I’ll go get it for you.” he tells you and you give him another nod,

With his absence, you fetch the opportunity with vigor, taking it upon yourself to snoop around. You start by examining the lighter he threw on the bedside table, the shiny exterior had managed to capture your attention. Brushing your fingers over the leather case, it’s not hard to tell even such a small item is expensive.

You notice an initial is engraved at the bottom, trailing the two letters with the tip of your index finger 'PSH'.

Putting the lighter back on the dresser, you stand up feeling slightly better, your legs gathering more strength compared to earlier. You turn your attention to the countless papers sprawled on the floor, collected in a pile as if they hold no importance anymore. Picking a few up, you go through them with inquisitive eyes. They all seem like first drafts of sketches, clearly unfinished. Few with a face etched onto them, void of any clear features, another is just a pair of eyes. While a different one is just an outline of a body, for some odd reason they all feel familiar. Like you have seen them somewhere or like you should know who they belong to.

It has an unsettling feeling nestling its way into you, the same one you felt back at the museum. Drifting your eyes to the corner of the page, the autograph there catches your eyes.

"Park Sunghoon." you read out loud. You check the other papers and surely every single one of them is signed with the same name. you don’t get to dwell on the discovery before you hear the door clicking open once again.

Placing the papers back in their original place, you face the door. He steals a glance at you, your gaze locking for a mere second before he’s walking over to the small coffee table, sitting in the middle of his room paired with a sofa that looks more expensive than anything you’ve ever owned.

"Come here." He tells you, setting the tray he was holding down, and you follow quietly. Sitting down next to him with a good, measured gap between you.

He eyes you but doesn’t comment on it.

"Help yourself." He says pointing to the bowl of soup with a tilt of his head, his fingers curling around one of the cups that seem to be holding coffee.

You only nod, scooting closer to the table as the delicious smell invades your nostrils, evoking your hunger to raise and the realization that you haven’t eaten anything all day.

“Good?” he asks after you take a sip, eyes fond.

“Really good. Thank you.” you answer with a smile, diving in for some more.

"Have some green tea." Sunghoon suggests and you nod. Setting the bowl down on the tray. You reach for the cup. Your eyes immediately dart to the label of the tea, and you recognize it as one of the more expensive brands. They don't even sell it where you work.

Amidst your sip, you look at him only to find him already watching you. Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, his eyes follow your every move with a slackened expression. With tinted cheeks you avert your attention to the huge window next to you, taking note that the rain has stopped completely. Although it's still cloudy outside.

You should head home soon before it starts raining again.

"So why were you following me?" Sunghoon asks, slicing into the congested tension. You don’t expect it, resulting in you choking on a sip, your face turning red in color as you fall into a fit of coughs.

Sunghoon’s emotions grow into amusement as if you weren’t on the verge of death.

"I wasn't following you." you state, clearing your throat.

“What were you doing then?"

“I was at the library with my friends,” you start, eyes lolling everywhere and he only hums, patience seeming unlimited “I saw you passing by, and I wanted to tell you that I figured out what you wrote on my arm that night.”

"So, you went out into the rain without an umbrella?” he puffs out a chuckle and you’re starting to feel a tad bit annoyed. Like you’re a source of entertainment to him.

“It was stupid. I’m so dumb for doing that I get it.” You huff, overwhelmed with discomfiture.

“It made me happy.”

“What?”

“Knowing I wasn’t the only one still thinking about you.”

“You think about me?” you ask, eyes flitting to his, they stay unwavering.

“I do.” There’s no way for you to prove it, but you know it’s the truth he speaks, woven with that same unfeigned smile.

Your silence stretches, as you ponder upon all the contingencies staring back at you. You can’t find anything worrisome and perhaps that’s why it worries you, you cannot be worthy of anything this gentle.

“You told me you figured out what I wrote on your arm?” he asks, pulling you out of your thoughts and you brighten with excitement, inching closer to him unwittingly, he leans into it. His arms stretching behind you.

“I did!”

“Mhm, go on. Tell me.”

“I can see your fears.” You answer, eyes dancing between his with overflowing delirium. Evoking a smile from him.

Your chest warms at the sight.

“Close enough.” He tells you and it’s enough for your excitement to melt right off you, replaced with a pout and a knot between your brows.

“I got it wrong?”

“It’s a T, not an F.”

“I can see your tears?” you ask, tilting your head in a too endearing of a manner.

“Yeah.” he answers softly.

“Does it have any special meaning behind it?” He shrugs at your question, leaving it unanswered as he stands up wordlessly, walking to his bedside table, he leans down to open a drawer and fetch something you can’t see.

You let your eyes wander, trailing over his slim figure, keeping yourself in check is almost deemed unobtainable. Not when you fall breathless as you’re pushed into the same space as him. He’s stunningly virtuoso as he’s surrounded by pieces of his own art, scattered around the floor, hung around the walls of his bedroom. Like it took decades to sculpt this man. Not a single flaw to be seen.

"Are you gonna tell me your name?" you ask when he turns to face you, a sketchbook between his hands and you’ve managed to stitch yourself woefully just in time.

“Although you got it wrong,” he sits himself back on the sofa right next to you, charm imbued into his grin “it’s Sunghoon. Park Sunghoon.” The name rolls off his tongue so fluidly, far from how it sounded in your head when you read it. The fact that you already knew is a hushed secret within the walls of your brain.

“What’s yours?” He opens his sketchbook, skimming through ones you don’t get enough time to steal glances at.

“yn,” you answer.

“Pretty name.” He doesn’t give enough time for his words to penetrate your mind, instead they hang over you like their own cloud replenishing with their own shades of emotions.

He inches closer to you, tilting your chin towards him with his thumb and index finger. You’re so taken back you don’t even get to inhale, cheeks glowing pink and body going rigid. His eyes skimming over your features, scrutinizing you as if you’re one of his paintings.

"W-what?" You stutter out.

His fingers loosen, abandoning the warmth of your skin, your fingers itch with a foolish urge, one like stopping him. An imprudent entreaty climbs up your throat, one like telling him you miss his touch the moment it’s gone.

“You have freckles.” he says, settling into an empty page and picking up a pencil that had been lying randomly on the table.

“They’re very faint. Nobody ever notices them.” You reply, dumbfounded.

“I can see them very clearly.” There’s a deeper meaning underlying his words, one that you cannot seem to comprehend "you’re bewitching. It has me questioning if you’re real." He continues, unceremoniously.

You find fiendish in his kind words, it’s as if your heart isn't swelling up in your chest. Inflating so beyond your control it feels like it might explode any minute. You exhort yourself not to be swooned so effortlessly. You shouldn't be taken away by so little yet flattering words like a weak branch swayed away by a fleeting wind.

You tell yourself you have been here before, you cannot stumble into the same mistakes over and over again, even if it grows harder by the minutes. The cravings of your heart screams grow louder when he looks at you, his hand pausing for a mere minute as if he’s taken back just the same. The softening of your gaze, an exposure of all your hidden fragility.

"I feel the same way about you," your words escape you without much thought, unconcealed.

You stare at each other for what almost feels like a decennary. Years of people dying, souls being reborn. And you’re still here, as if frozen in time and whatever colors the air between you two is enough to pump life into you for that long. It’s counted minutes, fewer seconds for you hold your breath and longer for you to blink.

Sunghoon doesn't reply, only hums as he goes back to drawing. Skilled fingers moving across the paper.

But you feel it, in the darkening of his eyes. The sharpening of his gaze. The tightening of his hold on the pencil. It's all so subdued but evident. A shift in the space between you, the tension amplifying, tethered with feverish intensity. You catch yourself breathing in deeper gulps of air. Wrapping an arm around your body, you look around. A failed attempt to calm your nerves.

"Are you uncomfortable?" Sunghoon asks, scrutinizing your movement.

"A little." You admit and he tsks, in what seems to be disapprobation, it has your arms tightening around yourself. An urge to please arises.

"You can ask me anything you want, if that will help." He suggests.

"Do you always draw strangers out of the blue?" you tease, striving for the air between you to be lighter.

It earns you a chuckle from him, a shake of his head that has you entranced. You never knew there were this many shapes of beauty and you did not know they could all exist in one person, in the tone of his voice, in the fluttering of his lashes, the sharpness of his jaw and even in between the strands of his hair.

"Only the pretty ones." He jokes back and you blush with a scuttling gaze, denying your heart.

"How old are you?" you inquire, attempting to start normal conversation.

"How old do you think I am?" He asks. Looking at you sideways with a tilt of his eyebrow that has you melting like butter. Squirming in your seat.

“Aren’t you supposed to be answering my questions?”

"I'm 28." He answers and you cannot hide the surprise taking place upon your face, not when he didn’t look a day over the age of 23.

“You’re young, aren’t you?” He asks, at your silence.

“I’m not that young.” Your tone comes out defensive, it has his lip twitching upwards in merriment “I turned 21 last month.” You continue and he only hums back.

You feel it again, the abrupt stopping of time for you, yet the ticking of the clock on the wall echoes resoundingly throughout the room. It is not enough to drown your heartbeat ringing in your ears. Not enough to conceal the allure swimming in his eyes when they dance between your eyes and then down at your lips.

You find yourself inching closer, you’re indistinguishable being pulled in by your heartstrings, with flames surging between you two, intertwined with lethal attraction and obscure intensity. The idea of burning alive does not sound all that bad right now. The space in the middle of you closes by inches, his breath reeking of cigarettes and coffee, the smell of his shampoo are all distinguishable.

He doesn’t move, like he’s waiting for you to make the first move, and you’re kneeling into it, with eyes turning hazy and labored breaths.

As your lips are about to touch, a striking sound cuts through, the ringing of a phone catches you both off guard. You wait for Sunghoon to get up, but he remains still, not moving a muscle, the twitch of his brows are the only giveaway of his annoyance.

"It's yours." He whispers, you’re confused for a minute but as the haze of enticement evaporates, you recognize the ringtone of your phone, spot it buzzing on the bed.

“Oh.” You stand up awkwardly, with stiffness in your bones you dawdle past him to grab your phone.

There are endless notifications of messages from Minji and Sunoo, a couple of missed calls from Heeseung. You cuss at yourself, had totally forgotten there are people waiting for you outside of whatever bubble you have stumbled into with Sunghoon. Who stays on the sofa with his back to you, seeming too busy admiring his own sketch of you.

You sway on your feet, with swaying thoughts, questions as foolish as the tint of red upon your cheeks. Is he admiring it because it’s you or is it an egotistical cherish?

Disappointment builds inside you at the thought.

"I should head home." You say, pocketing your phone.

"My driver will take you back." he replies, turning to look at you from the couch and you avert your eyes. Focusing on ripped up sketch on the ground.

It's disheartening to think about how something he probably cherishes so deeply is torn to shreds.

"There's no need. You have done more than enough."

"You're still tired. He'll take you." There’s an edge to his tone that kills the possibility of a clinch. It is not unkind in any way, in fact it’s implicitly sweet.

“I’m sorry and thank you for everything.”

“No need for apologizes, darling.”

You linger by the door, an evident nervousness coating the way your fingers are entangling and with the same meaninglessly endless tolerance inked into him, he waits for you just as well.

“I’m sorry for stealing your clothes again.” You say, an impish smile tilting your lips upwards as you point at the pair of sweats covering your legs.

The same one disperses across his lips, as he tips his head back at you, his arms crossing upon his chest and almost shamelessly his eyes trail over your body, loitering by your chest, it ignites a blazing fire right down to your core. Ardour -as cunning as you know it to be- coaxes it all. A master of temptation and the both of you toy with it religiously.

“They look better on you anyways.”

You are disentitled to silence, his words messing up the atoms of your being there’s no way for you to think straight. So you don’t ask how can you give them back, and instead you’re out of his space with a racing heart, wrapped in a deluge of his scent and an unendurable moisture between your legs. Your cheeks marring red with disgrace.

colored with shades of a duskier red, your attraction deepens, coexists with drops of lust.

The different atmosphere between your apartment and the place you were in kills your spirit. You were never really a thriver for luxury. You didn't grow up rich or poor. You had very basic living circumstances. In every aspect.

Although your living conditions were much better than now.

Is what you think as you greet the old lady that's dragging her drunken son into her apartment. Her face flushes with embarrassment every time. Even though you never comment on it nor mention it the next day. This happens every Sunday. Sometimes the timing is different, either it's too early in the night or far too late. But it's always Sunday and you always manage to witness it every time.

You unlocked the door to your small place and darkness welcomes you, killing your spirit a little more. Twist the knife in.

"Look who decided to finally show up." You almost jump ten feet into the air, eyes widening in shock at the sight of Heeseung sitting, crossed arms on your couch.

Like a fucking creep.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" you genuinely wonder, settling down upon the steps to take off your shoes. They have been feeling uncomfortable the whole ride, an itch you wish to scratch away. You hear Heeseung’s footsteps behind you.

"Where the hell were you? I was so worried you just disappeared."

"Okay dad." You roll your eyes, untying your shoelaces.

"I'm serious yn, that was fucked up. You just walked out without telling us anything."

He's right. And you know he’s right, an apology hangs at the tip of your tongue but in the same moment you reach into your shoe to feel a rough crumpled up piece of paper. With furrowed brows, you pull it out. Heeseung’s scolding continues yet your focus is displaced, you peel it open and everything around you feels like it stops moving for a second. The wheels in your brain coming to a halt at the digits staring back at you. 10 to be exact with PSH signed at the corner.

He gave you, his number.

Something in you blooms, like splashes of color on a blank canvas, manifesting to life with a smile against your will.

"Yn." Heeseung calls, and you shake yourself out of your thoughts, shoving the piece of paper into the pockets of your sweatpants.

"Yeah?"

"You okay? You have been off lately." His hands are on your shoulder, squeezing.

“I’m okay.” You assure, standing up to face him with a smile. This time it’s not enough to subdue the concern lingering in his eyes.

“What happened today?”

You knew the question was coming, and you knew hiding the truth from Heeseung is something you never succeed in, but you still feel yourself growing slightly nervous perhaps due to the irrational actions that you, yourself are embarrassed of.

Taking out the piece of paper from the confines of your pocket, you hand it to him. He raises his eyebrow in confusion but takes it from you, nonetheless. His eyes dart rapidly between the paper and you

"I'm confused?"

"Mr. glasses." recognition fills his expression as he looks at the paper once more.

"PSH? That's him?" You nod "His number?" you nod once again.

"I was at his apartment earlier- well more like penthouse but yeah." you explain, playing with your fingers.

"Right." He says slowly, evidently still befuddled with the amount of information you’re daunting on him out of nowhere, you cannot find blame to fling at him not when you also cannot fathom what's going on with you recently.

"It's why I disappeared earlier - which I'm so sorry about. that was shitty of me. I just saw him and I-i-" you trail off, failing to find proper delineation to your actions.

"Hey." He ceases your rambling, “It’s okay. I'm not upset with you." He assures and you nod silently, yet with a glance at him it was apparent that he still has words in his mouth, if his pursed lips and twitch of brows anything to go by.

“Just say it.”

"You want fun Hee or logical Hee?"

“Oh god there's two." You wince and his pursed lips turn into a forced smile, one that he wears whenever he finds nothing to say at your usual discomfiture.

"Logic. Go on." You signal with your hand for him to speak, with defeat dousing your face.

"Okay." his eyes lock with yours seeming to be collecting his words "I can see you're enamored with this guy-"

"I'm not."

"You're into him-"

"No." you interrupt him once again and he tilts his head at you with that same look.

"you're not into him?” he asks, with a deadpan expression.

"I'm not that either." You mumble with a pout.

"Okay. whatever." he pulls you closer to him, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ears with benign touches, you grow weak at the nice gesture.

"I just don't think it's a good time for you to be involved with anyone romantically." You keep quiet "You and Jae ended a couple months ago. Your dad passed away recently. You're grieving-"

"I'm not sad about Jaeyun." You tsk, his gaze softens, clouded with disquiet.

"You're grieving your dad, yn."

You always envied Heeseung. You never told him that. But you did ever since you were kids running around his backyard and he’d cry if he fell, complain if he’s hurt. You envied how he knew exactly how he felt. How he was never confused. He knew how to figure out his emotions, knew how to wear them proudly and what labels to stamp on them. Scratch that, he knew what to call yours.

Grief? you? you never know what you’re feeling. All you know is either black or white. Sometimes it's too dark. Your vision cannot see past your feet and other times it's the lightest white a human could ever experience, it’s blinding. Yet your black lasts months upon months. While your white usually feels like evanescent heaven, floating by with a blink, not enough for you to settle in, for your hands to clutch into anything.

Your blacks remain prevailing with counterfeit whites.

You chew on the inside of your cheek; your chest grows overwhelmed with the whirlwinds of emotions unraveling inside of you. you tell yourself you don’t want to shed tears – that you have no reason for agony to descend upon your cheeks. Yet pain spills into the cracks of your heart with familiarity, running down the same interchangeable patterns with a searing ache.

Your tears are persistent, filling your eyes with ineluctable force it makes you angry, feeding into your confusion. You can’t tell if you’re angry or sad anymore. You disentangle yourself from Heeseung’s embrace, turning your back to him as you melt upon the stairs of your doorway. Despicable tears fall from your eyes, silently colored with agony.

Heeseung wraps his arms around you once again, stubborn in being your comfort “I’m sorry.” He whispers, running his hands through your hair with tenderness that only flings you further into vexation.

“I can never forgive him.” Your words spill like an explosion of choked sobs, one that’s invoked by his hands traveling to your back with soothing swipes “It’s okay.” He tells and you could only shake your head with a heaving chest “now he's gone, and he never even apologized!" He pulls you further into his chest, a silly wish to take your pain for his "He's gone and it's so unfair because I have to deal with this."

"It's okay."

"I can never forgive him now." Your body is shaking violently with tormented weeping, a kind of heartbreak that cannot be caused by anything other than a parent.

"I wanted to." Your eyes flit to his and he can only nod at you with faith, his own eyes sparkling with unshed water "now I can't."

As you bury your face into his chest, his hold only grows tighter around you, with cravings to pacify your storms. You don’t know how much time passes by with you curled into his arms. It’s only when your sobs have died down, your breathing has settled and your tears have dried that he speaks;

"Angel?" he calls, carefully and you hum back an answer,

"What happened?" He asks, "You never told me what he did." Your mind goes blank, not finding enough words to explain. A strange numbness replaces the ache in your chest.

“Do you wanna make hot chocolate and watch shameless?” you ask, tipping your head back to look at him.

“Of course.” He smiles, standing up and offering his hand to you, a warmth envelope your body as you take it.

As Heeseung makes it to the kitchen before you, you linger by the stairs, eyes glued to the piece of paper that had ended up on the floor, picking it up, you brush your fingers over the initials.

"Come on! I'm not making yours!" Heeseung yells from the kitchen.

"Coming." You reply, tearing the paper into two and throwing it in the trash bin.  

Your blacks remain prevailing with counterfeit whites.

cherry pits - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. dad!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. Your alarmingly empty bank account forces you to find a last-minute summer job so that you can afford a trip with your friends. The extremely handsome customer that comes into the store just happens to be a young single dad who's renovating the old house next to yours. The tension that settles between the two of you as you start helping him fix up his house soon becomes unbearable, but it's all one-sided anyway, right?

(Spoiler: wrong.)

genre. DILF AUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!, neighbors au, s2l, summer au, slight age gap (reader is 21 and hoon 26), reader is so down bad over sunghoon its actually crazy but also extremely relatable cause this is sunghoon we're talking about, fluff and smut, sex gets freakyyy ngl

word count. 12.9k

a/n. hey sisters had no time to write anything this week so i am coming back (everybody boos) with a repost yayyy!!! i actually love this story idkw i just find it fun so i hope you guys will enjoy rereading / reading it !!!! as always let me know ur thoughts.. even if they're just incomprehensible screaming (bad or good).. im happy w anything ok bye!!!

You’ve always wondered about the ratio of cherry to pit. Such a big pit for so little flesh, isn’t it? Yet that’s never stopped you from biting into the small fruit, eating what you could and spitting out the unwanted part. You actually rather enjoy this whole process. Bite, eat, spit. You could repeat this with huge bowls of cherries at a time until they upset your stomach and you had to stop for your own good.

Bite, eat, spit is exactly what you’re doing when, with a trembling finger, you finally brave to open your banking app and check your balance. It’s the beginning of summer, and after two semesters of intense studying and too-much-coffee drinking, you think you deserve three long months of doing nothing but hanging out in your childhood bedroom and eating the food your parents buy and make. You’re especially looking forward to the vacation in Mexico you have planned with your friends at the end of August.

One look at your bank account and your dreams of white beaches and seas so blue you couldn’t tell them apart from the sky shatter around you, the sad, low numbers on the screen sneering at you mockingly. You were sure you had saved enough money from part-time jobs and generous relatives, but now you regret all of those night-outs and lazy takeaways. If you had cut down on those, maybe you wouldn’t have to go through the hassle of finding a summer job at the last minute, which you would definitely have to do if you wanted to eat something on that dear beach of yours and not just starve to death under the glaring sun.

That was it - tomorrow, you’d go and get a job. Today, however, you’d enjoy your last day of respite and eat some more cherries, or maybe make some jam and a pie so your parents wouldn’t chide you for eating them all, and then go pick some more from the three trees in your backyard. You’d sit outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun while you read or, if you couldn’t be asked, while you listened to the bustle of the old and worn-down house next door being renovated. You’re surprised someone had the courage to buy it and give it a new life, but you assume that’s the kind of courage that comes with having time and money. 

Yesterday night, you’d heard a little girl playing outside until her mom called her in saying it was time to go, so you made up a story of your neighbors being newlyweds that had decided they’d had enough of the city and wanted to raise their daughter in a calmer town far from busy streets and loud honks. You could bring them some cherries, maybe in jam or pie form, as a housewarming gift.

Unfortunately, the day passed and you were too busy doing nothing to actually get around to baking, so you decided to do nothing some more and then go to bed, needing rest before your big job hunt.

You’d gravely overestimated the amount of job opportunities in your small hometown, only receiving apologetic looks from the store owners as they tell you they don’t need any help, or worse, already have someone. Damn those 16-year-olds who only get summer jobs so they can blow their whole pay in a couple weeks before school starts again. You, on the other hand, need that money for important things, like sipping on a cocktail at a bar with a seaview.

The local hardware store next to the train station is your saving grace. It looks quite small from the outside, but once you step inside, rows of lamps and mirrors in all shapes and sizes along with all kinds of household needs welcome you, followed by a section for gardening and pet caretaking. The basement is where all the paints and brushes were, as well as the more technical (technical to you, at least) products, like bolts and tools or kitchen and bathroom appliances.

A lot of people undertake renovations in their homes during their free time in the summer, so it’s important for the store to have their experts helping out customers in their dedicated aisles rather than working behind the till and restocking the shelves, which is what you will be doing for the next two months. The pay is slightly above minimum wage and with twenty-one hours of work a week, you’ll earn more than enough to enjoy your vacation. You start tomorrow.

Your co-workers are happy to welcome a new face into their team. They’re nice even if they have the tendency to drone on about different types of tools and the importance of choosing the right brush for the surface you’re painting, which you don’t particularly care about, but you think you might as well learn as much as you can during your time here; it might always come in handy later.

As you expected, it isn’t the most stimulating job ever, but you aren’t bored out of your mind either. You make small talk with customers as they explain their purchases, some more defensively than others, even if you didn’t ask. You make sure to restock the shelves correctly and sometimes ask for help when you feel your arms giving out after hours of carrying heavy stuff. When no one’s in, you like to rearrange the cute bathroom decorations so that they make a little rainbow of toothbrush and soap holders.

You were daydreaming about what you would do with your friends in Mexico and all the cherries you could eat there when a man so handsome you thought he was a part of your dream walks in. He doesn’t notice (or maybe he just ignores it, you’re not sure) your gawking and smiles at you, saying “hello” before turning his attention to the map which details where everything is stored at the entrance of the shop. You manage a small “h-hello” back that probably doesn’t even reach his ears, and you curse yourself for doing a poor job of greeting a customer just because said customer looks like he’s been pushed from the heavens above onto this unworthy earth by the other angels who were jealous of his beauty. 

You stay put behind the counter the whole time he’s there to avoid the potential embarrassment of running into him in a random aisle and making a fool of yourself. There isn’t much to do anyway, so you rearrange the organic protein bars and chewing-gum at the counter and count all the money in the cash register to distract yourself. He doesn’t spend a very long time browsing and after twenty minutes, you see him approach with a cart full of the biggest cans of paint the store offers. It’s mostly white paint, but there are some browns and grays, and one of pink as well.

You thank God for those twenty minutes because they allowed you to get a hold of yourself so that you didn’t gape at him like a dead fish instead of scanning his articles, which is what you are very professionally and expertly doing. “That’s a lot of paint,” you comment lightheartedly, partly just to prove to yourself that you can also speak in front of this man.

“I know,” he chuckles, and it seems unfair that his voice should be just as attractive as his face. “The previous owners of the house I just bought had terrible taste in wallpaper and wall colors, so I have to repaint basically the whole house. Everything has to go, really. The floors, the furniture, the lights.”

“Sounds like you’re going to have a busy summer. That’ll be $132.76, please.”

“I’ll pay by card,” he says as he brings his wallet out from his back pocket and inserts his card into the reader, which allows you to look freely at his tanned arms and the veins that protrude here and there. He can’t be older than thirty, so there’s probably not that much of an age difference between the two of you, but damn does he look more mature in the sexiest way possible than all of the male college students you’re used to seeing on a daily basis. If anything, he reminds you of the hot young Linguistics professor your whole department likes to drool over. 

The beep of the payment being accepted snaps you out of your daze. “And yeah, it’ll sure be a busy summer. I’ll need a lot of stuff from here, so you might have to get used to seeing me around,” he says with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this walking Greek god of a man is actually flirting with you, but the glint in his eyes tells you it wasn’t just an off-hand comment.

“I could get used to that,” you surprise yourself by replying confidently, your smile mirroring his as pretty dimples appear on each side of his face.

You hand him the receipt and notice his eyes flickering down to your name tag before trapping yours in his gaze once again. You don’t think you ever want to look away. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he says and walks out with his cart and his tons of paint before you can say anything, lest ask his name, except for “see you.”

You take a deep breath in and another out when he’s out of sight, trying to calm your racing heart. You can’t wait to rave to the girls’ group chat about this, but one of your coworkers calls you for help and you have to put the handsome stranger to the back of your mind for a while.

—

That weekend, your parents ask you to do something about the cherries slowly starting to spoil in the fridge, so you put on your headphones and listen to an audiobook for entertainment, then get to pitting. It feels wrong to listen to The Kiss Quotient and its many smut scenes when your parents are coming and going out of the room, but what they don’t know won’t kill them; you just try to keep your reactions to a minimum during the extra spicy scenes.

Pitting cherries is an arduous task that always takes longer than you think it will, but you never complain about it. You’ve found the perfect technique of cutting them in half around the pit, turning the small fruit without squeezing it, extracting the stone and making sure it doesn’t get confused and end up in the bowl with the pitted cherries, all without tiring your wrists after ten minutes. A surprise pit in a cherry pie can add to the charm of a homemade dessert, but you’d rather not have to spit out five of them while trying to eat one slice.

You prepare a crumbly dough to make two classic American-style pies and fill four jars with cherry jam that you cook while the doughs rest. It’s almost offensive how small the cherries become as they cook, the amount that fills those four jars having filled eight before, but you decide there’s no reason to take it personally since the cherries don’t do it on purpose, and put the jars away to cool down. You roll out the first rested dough and despair for a bit when it keeps on falling apart, but it just makes it more satisfying once you have it perfectly thinly rolled out and covering the tin. The second one is a bit nicer to you and you only have to try rolling it out twice. 

Two hours later, as the sun finally starts to relent and a cooler breeze flows through the air, the pies are all baked, cooled and ready to be eaten. You leave one for you and your parents to enjoy later, then head over to the next house to greet your new neighbors with the other pie. You knock and wait for a good thirty seconds before getting any sort of response, making you think no one’s in.

“Y/N?” a semi-familiar voice calls out, and your head whips in its direction. If this were a cartoon or a 2012 teen show, you’d probably drop the pie tin, but thankfully, your hands aren’t that sweaty, and the shock of the man from the other day at the store being your neighbor isn’t that great, because of course, of course he’s your neighbor. You’re Y/N, after all; the almighty gods above would never let you have a boring, uneventful summer. Of course the hot new man in town is your neighbor.

“Oh! Hi! Guess we’re neighbors. Ha,” you say with a clumsy smile, holding the tin over your forearm as your other hand shields your eyes from the sunlight so you can look at him without squinting your eyes.

“Neighbors?” he repeats as he joins you on the front porch, taking off his gloves dirtied by the mud and using the back of his hand to wipe off some sweat from his forehead. The sweat makes his hair stick to his face and there are small beads of it falling from his hairline down onto his white t-shirt. You detect the slightest of stubbles on his chin and upper lip, probably from not having shaved for just a day or two. He’s even tanner than when you saw him a few days ago, and his thick eyebrows form a straight line as he frowns in what you guess is tiredness and perhaps confusion from seeing you in regular clothes and holding a pie tin on his porch. For a second, you’re scared he might think you’re some kind of stalker, but you nod and tilt your head towards your house. 

“Yep. That one just over there behind you.”

He turns his upper body to take a look at your house and nods slowly as he turns back around, gaze finding yours again like the other day at the store. You have no idea who this man is - hell, you don’t even know his name - but good lord are you attracted to him, especially when he gives you that unreadable smile that shows off his dimples. 

“Huh. What a coincidence,” he says, and that could mean anything in the world, but you hope he means it in a good way. “I’m Sunghoon, by the way.” he adds, extending his hand for you to take, which you do, and the simple action of shaking his hand without eye contact ever breaking is enough to send shivers down your spine. Hopefully, this goes unnoticed by this Sunghoon.

A walking wet dream. That’s what this man is. He’s walked right out of your deepest Wattpad-induced fantasies and into the house next door. Probably doesn’t help that you’d been listening to literary porn just fifteen minutes prior. 

“Is that pie?” he asks as he releases your hand.

“It is, cherry pie I made myself with cherries from our backyard. A housewarming gift, if you will. Here,” you reply, offering him the tin.

He takes it from your hands, the tips of his fingers slightly grazing yours, on purpose or not, you’re not sure. He lifts some of the aluminum covering the pie and peeks underneath, then hums appreciatively. “Thanks, it looks really good. I’ve been living off of ready-meals and casseroles from the neighbors, so this’ll be really nice.”

“Well we’ve got tons of cherries, so feel free to ask whenever you want some,” you offer, and he nods. A small silence settles between the two of you and you’re about to excuse yourself so it doesn’t get awkward when he invites you in, asking if you’d like to have a piece with him.

“If you want to, I mean. I was gonna take a break anyway,” he says somewhat coyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. You’re surprised to see him being anything else other than confident and self-assured, but it only makes him look cuter in your eyes.

“Sure,” you accept with a smile, letting him lead you inside the house.

“Sorry, it smells like paint all over the house. That’s why I was outside, doing some gardening while I aired the house out,” he explains. “Let me just get some plates and a knife out. And something for us to drink. Do you want to drink something? I’ve got water, or some iced tea or lemonade. The grandma across the street made some for me,” he says all at once, and you suppress a giggle at his sudden nervous behavior.

“Sunghoon?”

“Yeah?” he responds almost immediately, turning to you just as you both reach the kitchen.

“Just water is fine.”

A shy smile makes his dimples appear once again as he nods. “Okay, sounds good.” You help him carry everything to the back porch and set down the glasses and a jug of water on a table with two chairs around it.

“The porches are the only parts I won’t have to fix up too much, for some reason.”

“You’re going to redo the whole house yourself?” you ask, surprised, as you pour two glasses of water and he serves you a slice of cherry pie (“there might be some stray cherry pits, so be careful,” you warn as he sets a slice on his plate).

“A lot of it, yeah, but I’ve also got some people to help out. My dad’s a carpenter so I know my way around these things, but I also know it’s better and faster to have more than one man on the job, so some guys he works with come a couple times a week.”

“Yeah, with the state this house is in, you’d need more than a summer if you did everything yourself,” you comment, and he chuckles, agreeing. “My friends and I used to make stories about how this place is haunted, you know,” you say jokingly.

“Please don’t jinx my house from the get-go,” he says, making you laugh.

“Sorry, sorry. It’ll be nice seeing it all fixed-up, actually.”

“Have you lived here long?” he asks, looking at you thoughtfully as he takes another bite of the pie. “This is really good, by the way.”

“Thanks. And yeah, my whole life. I go away when semester starts but come back for the holidays and the summer.”

“So you're a student?”

“Yeah, just at the state university a few hours away. Not too far away that it’s a hassle traveling back, but not too close that I go home every weekend. What about you, what do you do?”

You wait for his answer while he swallows his mouthful and take another bite yourself. “I teach,” he starts as he dabs the corners of his lips with a napkin. “Fifth graders, on the other side of town. I used to live in a small apartment near the school I work at but it’s nicer, having more space. I saved enough money to buy this house and fix it up, so here I am now,” he says, gesturing to the house and the garden with his arms. 

You notice his use of the first person pronoun when he talks about where he used to live and his house now, which makes you wonder if it’s just him, even though you were sure you heard a woman and a young girl’s voices the other day. Surely, if he wasn’t single, he wouldn’t have invited you in or given you flirtatious looks, right? Or were you reading totally wrong into this and he was just an exceptionally friendly person?

You put these questions to the side and continue chatting with Sunghoon, letting the subject of his marital status come up on its own during your conversation. And indeed, you get your answer when he tells you about the different parts of the house he plans on having, one of them being a bedroom for his daughter.

“Oh, so you have a daughter? How old is she?” you ask as you take a sip of water, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Considering his age, you expect that his child will be one, two years old max, so his answer makes you almost choke on your drink.

“She’s turning eight this summer.”

“Eight?” you repeat as you set your glass down, looking at him wide-eyed. So much for nonchalance. “But you’re so-”

“Young? Yeah, I know,” he interrupts with a knowing smile, probably used to this kind of reaction. “I’m 26,” he adds, then watches as you do the simple math in your head. When you turn to him with a surprised look, he answers your question before you’ve even asked it. “Yep, I had her when I was 18.”

“Wow,” is all you can say. “Can I ask what happened?”

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing extraordinary or anything. I was in my last year of high school, and I got my girlfriend at the time pregnant. We’d only been dating four months but her parents wouldn’t let her get an abortion. They’re really religious. They took care of our baby, with the help of my parents, while I went to community college and she retook senior year since she had to drop out halfway through the year. No, we’re not together anymore, if you’re wondering,” he says, catching you off guard, as if he’d read your thoughts. 

He chuckles before sighing and continues. “If none of this had happened, we’d probably have broken up before going off to college and proceeded to forget about each other. We started out living with her parents, then got that small apartment I told you about when she found a job. We’re not on bad terms by any means, but we’ve just not been in love since Chaeryeong turned 2, probably. We’ve been more roommates than a couple for the past six years. And you know, we kept on living together for Chaer mainly, but she’s found a new boyfriend and I wanted to have my own place. Which has led me here.”

You nod slowly, letting the whole story sink in. “You’re both handling this situation really maturely, it sounds like. I’ve heard of so many teenage parents fighting all the time and not taking care of their kids properly.”

“She’s already got a weird parental situation, it’s the least we can do for her to behave like adults, you know.”

“Right, of course,” you say, nodding again. Your hot new neighbor was actually a DILF, you realized a bit inappropriately, perhaps. Cherry on top.

He tells you a bit more about his daughter and you keep talking until your dad calls you, asking you why you’re not home at dinner time, and you only notice then how long you’ve been sitting there with Sunghoon, just talking. You tell him you feel bad for taking up so much of his time but he shakes your apologies off.

“It was my pleasure, really. And thanks again for the pie, I think Chaer will love it.”

He walks you to the front door and calls out your name after you’ve waved goodbye and started walking. You didn’t know you had been expecting him to do anything until you heard the hopeful tone in your own voice. “Yeah?”

“You any good with kids?” he asks, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms and a smirk that makes your heart flutter.

Although you’ve only got one older brother, you have younger cousins as well as older ones that have babies of their own, so you’re not a complete stranger to kids, but more importantly, you like them. They have the world to learn, but they say surprisingly smart things and have really cute faces.

“I’d say that I am, yeah,” you reply, a smile growing on your face, mirroring his expression.

“Good,” he says, and pauses a second for good measure. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later, Sunghoon,” you say as you turn back and head to your house, letting him enjoy the view of you walking away. 

On the short way home, you realize that you completely have the hots for your neighbor, although you probably knew that before. Is it twisted that you like him more now that you know he’s got a kid? Probably a little bit, but you’re not going to fight it. He’s single, after all. And not even thirty. A five-year gap isn’t unheard of. 

Your parents ask you where you’ve been as you set the table and get ready for dinner. “Just over at our new neighbor’s house to give him some pie and say hi,” you say as you toss the salad in its bowl, spreading the dressing evenly. 

“Ooh, the neighbor,” your mother echoes knowingly, wiggling her eyebrows, and steals a leaf of lettuce when it falls from the bowl because of your vigorous tossing. “We should have him over at some point, welcome him into the neighborhood. I’ve seen him a bit, you know. Out painting on his front porch or when he was in his garden the same time as me. He’s a very attractive young man,” she says, lowering her voice so your dad doesn’t hear even though he’s outside grilling the meat. “Do you know how old he is? Looks a bit young for a homeowner to me, but who knows what young people are up to these days.

“He’s twenty-six, and he’s saved a lot of money. Plus, I don’t think that house was very expensive. From what he’s told me, the renovations will basically cost as much as the house itself. He’s also got a kid.”

“Aw, must be a cute baby,” she says as your father walks in, carrying a tray of steaming barbecued steaks and potatoes.

“She’s eight,” you say bluntly, causing them both to look at you with wide eyes.

“Oh, right, then. Happens,” your mother says, bringing her glass of water to her lips and taking a sip from it. “Is he still with the mother?”

“They broke up a while ago, but they’re on good terms,” you say, and your mom nods slowly at the information.

“So, he’s single, huh?” she says, trying to hide her smile, earning herself a groan from your dad and a chuckle from you. 

“C’mon, mom!”

“What? You can’t deny that he’s attractive, and he’s single. Plus, you two must get along well if you spent a couple hours talking. Sure, he’s got a kid, but you love those, don’t you?”

“Mom, you of all people would know kids aren’t pets. Dating someone with an eight-year-old isn’t the same as dating someone with a cat.

“No one’s asking you to be that girl’s mom,” she says, dishing out some meat for the three of you. “I’d go get that man, if I were you.”

Your dad shakes his head and you eat your food as you listen to them bickering with a smile. You think about what your mother said - should you go and get Sunghoon? Your heart says yes, but your brain is a bit more reluctant. Another part of your body, lower down there, is screaming ‘yes’ at you.

He does live right by, after all.

That night, you FaceTime your roommate and best friend from college and bring her up to date about ‘the hot man from the store the other day.’ She paints her toenails but listens intently as she always does when you talk about boys, humming and chuckling here and there.

“God, Y/N, I didn’t know you had daddy issues, of all things.”

You gasp fake-dramatically. “Excuse me, I do not! I was attracted to him before I knew he was a dad, I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let me know when you guys actually hook up, I’m curious whether older men are actually better,” she says, making you scoff.

“I hope he is. I’m very much tired of those boys that don’t know where the clit is and use too much tongue.”

“You know, when I complain to my mom about guys, she always tells me to wait it out a few years. She says they get more mature and, well, she didn’t say that outright, but she very heavily implied that the sex is much, much better. Kinda gross hearing it from her, but it’s good information.”

You hum. “Well, he’s not that much older… But let’s hope that it still makes a difference,” you say, and then move on to another topic. 

—

One thing that eating cherries has taught you is that if you want to enjoy eating the sweet flesh, you’ll need to deal with the pit as well. Ever the grand philosopher, you realized soon enough that this was applicable to real life and not just your favorite fruit. Wanna get a good grade on your test? Gotta study for it. Wanna go on holiday to Mexico? Gotta find a summer job and earn money.

Wanna make your way to Sunghoon’s bed? Gotta seduce him.

Over the following days, you stand behind the counter at the hardware store, elbow perched on the hard surface, head resting on your palm and vision fuzzy as you daydream about your next encounter with Sunghoon. More often than not, a customer will clear their throat to awkwardly let you know of their presence and you’ll have to exchange your imagined dialogue with Sunghoon for a quick apology and some pleasantries; more often than not, a coworker will call out your name for some help just as you get to the juicy part of your reverie. In those moments, you always feel like you’ve been caught red-handed watching softcore porn, even if no one knows the last thing about what goes on in your head, nor do they care. 

Much like the first time he walked into the store, when he does again on a Thursday morning, you think your daydreams have just gone too far and you’re now hallucinating. But, lo and behold, this is the true Park Sunghoon in the flesh, and he smiles and waves at you as he strides in before disappearing behind one of the many aisles.

You spend the next fifteen minutes going over witty conversation starters that will surely make him fall for you, only for you to stutter out a “h-hi, Sunghoon,” when he finally reaches the counter.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he jokes, and you laugh a bit too hard for a comment that isn’t that funny.

“How are the renovations going?” you ask as you scan his articles - some more paint and brushes, lots of tile glue, a bunch of nails and two different sizes of turnscrews. He frowns in concentration at the snacks next to the counter until he caves in and gets a chocolate protein bar that’s more sugar than protein. 

“Pretty okay,” he starts. “I’m in a bit of a rush, cause Chaer is already coming in two weeks and I need to have finished at least the interior by that time. My dad’s friends helped me get the roof done, so that’s good, but now they’re all busy with other sites so it's just me. Right now I’m redoing the tiles in the bathrooms. You need so much damn glue,” he says with a chuckle.

You think for a second, then timidly offer, “I could help out, you know. If you needed me to.” 

He looks at you with raised eyebrows, halfway through getting his card out of his wallet. “Really?”

“I mean, I don’t have much experience with this kinda stuff, but I’ve picked up a few things here and there from working here. If it saves you time, I could do the easy things. This job isn’t particularly physically demanding so I’ve still got energy at the end of the day. That’s $78.96, please.”

A small smile appears on his face as he inserts his card into the reader. He punches in his code and then returns your gaze. “That could be nice, actually.”

And that’s how you find yourself over at Sunghoon’s house in denim shorts and your dad’s old t-shirts almost everyday for the next two weeks, helping him fix up the old two-storey home. He measures out the perfect length for wood planks or marble tiles that you assist him in fastening to the floors of different rooms and he fixes holes in walls that you paint over afterwards. Sometimes on your breaks, you share a bowl of cherries that you brought from your garden. (One morning, you tried to make cherry juice out of them, but when after almost two hours of pitting the liquid barely filled a glass, you decided that it was too much effort and that you’d keep on just eating them and baking the occasional pie.) You asked him to tell you what each of the rooms upstairs would be and you realized that the window of his room faced yours directly. The blinds were down as they had always been, so you hadn’t known what the room would be.

“I’ve been sleeping on the couch since I haven’t gotten around to fixing up this room yet. Guess I should get to it, though,” he says, giving you a look that blurs the meaning of his words so that you’re not sure what he’s implying, which happens a bit too often with Sunghoon.

And you’d think that spending the better part of two weeks with the current man of your dreams would be amazing, right? 

Wrong. It’s unbearable.

Maybe that’s exaggerating it - it’s mostly fun, and sometimes unbearable. Usually, you’re an avid fan of sexual tension, especially with attractive men like Sunghoon. Lingering gazes, eye contacts when there shouldn’t be any, remarks with a deeper meaning that they let on, barely-there touches on the back of your hand or on your waist that manage to take your breath away. These are all very fine things that keep your heart bouncing and a blush on your cheeks, but they are supposed to amount to something more in the end. Maybe you’re impatient, but after two weeks of sending sex through your eyes to Sunghoon, you get the feeling that he doesn’t reciprocate your desire. One afternoon, you’d made sure to go and sunbathe in your bikini at the exact moment he was doing some work outside, and even then, he merely gave your body a one-over and disappeared a few minutes later inside his house. When he came back about ten minutes later, he could still barely look at you.

At the same time, there’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he stands close behind you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest against your back, big, rough hands enveloping yours as he demonstrates how to cut a plank of wood with the machine. There’s no way the way he smirks when the action turns you into a stammering mess is innocent, either.

Yet nothing happens. The tension is thick enough to be cut with a knife, but maybe Sunghoon hasn’t bought cutlery yet. The air is already heavy from the heat and the relentlessness of the sun, but this thing between you and him makes it almost suffocating, in somehow the best yet worst way possible. You’re this close to simply throwing your naked body at him, and it doesn’t help that you see his flexing, working muscles and beads of sweat on his hairline everyday. On the days he wears shorts, which is most days, all you can think of is getting off on his thick thighs, of his hands holding you tightly by the waist, of the way he’d look at you, eyes clouded over, of the words he’d whisper in your-

Your phone buzzes, interrupting you in your horny downward spiral. It’s your dear mother telling you to come home for dinner. As you pick up your phone, a second buzz. Ask Sunghoon if he wants to eat with us. 

You find him in his bedroom, adding the last touches to the walls. “I think I’ll be able to sleep here starting tomorrow night. I just need to go buy a bed,” he says when he sees your figure standing in the doorway.

“We can go together if you want,” you blurt before you can stop yourself. Hoping it’ll make you seem less weird, you add, “I’ve got really good taste in furniture.”

“Is that so?” he questions, turning to you with a smile. “I’d appreciate the second pair of eyes, actually. There’s a lot of things I need to get.”

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna comment on it, but I think you’ll end up needing more than a couch, a plastic dining table and two chairs,” you tease, making him roll his eyes lightheartedly. “We can go to that huge second-hand store they have just outside of town. You’ll be surprised how good - and cheap - the furniture is there.”

“Sounds good,” he nods, and checks his watch. “Are you going home?”

“I am. My mom’s invited you over for dinner, if you’d like,” you say, tilting your head at him.

He raises his eyebrows in delighted surprise. “I’d love to. Just need to shower first.”

“That’s fine. I’ll go home, just come over whenever you’re ready.” You exchange quick see you laters and you head home, taking a shower yourself and making sure to use your best-smelling body lotion.

Sunghoon arrives half an hour later with a bouquet of roses in his hands and an award-winning smile on his face. You let him in and he greets your parents, offering your mother the bouquet. “Sorry I took so much time getting here, I wanted to pick these out as a thank you.”

You can tell your mother is pleased to the heavens as she waves him off, leading him inside your house. “That’s awfully nice of you, Mr Park-”

“Call me Sunghoon, please,” he says with a warm smile.

“Right, Sunghoon. And no worries, you’re just on time. Please, sit.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh, no, you’re working all day fixing up that house, just sit and relax. We’re very happy to have you over, aren’t we?” your mother says, sending a very obvious smile your way, which makes you furrow your eyebrows and shake your head lightly at her, silently telling her to shut up. Sunghoon chuckles at the exchange but says nothing and you want to bury yourself and your mother ten feet underground.

Sunghoon sits across from you at the dinner table, which allows you to stare unabashedly at him as he works his charm on your parents. He’s the neighbor, so technically, he’s not a boyfriend you brought home to meet them, but still, you can’t help but compare him to those few boys that you did bring home. None of them were a disaster, but none of them went as smoothly as this, either. There were always some awkward silences and dry chuckles with your past boyfriends, but Sunghoon clearly knows how to make parents happy. Maybe because he lived with his ex’s parents for so long, or maybe because he’s a parent himself. Either way, it only adds to your desire to take all of his clothes and let him rail you into next week. Too bad he clearly doesn’t feel the same way, you remind yourself with an audible sigh, which makes him look curiously at you, but you brush it off with a smile.

You watch as he accepts a beer, compliments the food and the house, talks football with your dad, accepts another beer, and shares teaching anecdotes with your mom, who herself is an elementary school teacher. You jump in every now and then when you have something witty to add or someone asks your opinion on something, but most of the time, you sit back and enjoy, happy that everything is going well. 

You bring out your infamous cherry pie that you’d baked the previous day along with some vanilla ice cream for dessert, and smile when Sunghoon tells you how much he’d been waiting to have some of it again, trying not to blush as his gaze stays focused on yours for a second too long. Thankfully, your parents don’t notice, too busy cutting themselves a slice. 

He stays for another hour or so, until the sun has set and the streetlamps and the moonlight are the only things keeping the world visible. Your mom forces him to accept tupperwares full of leftovers from the night and makes him promise to come back with his daughter. Sneakily, she tells you to help him carry the tupperwares home even though he’s more than able to do it himself, then hugs him goodbye, hurrying you out of the door.

Sunghoon hasn’t yet changed the lightbulbs to more efficient ones, so his kitchen bathes in the faint glow of the overhead lighting as you put away the leftovers in his fridge. He stands a bit to your right close behind you, closer than needed to simply hand you the tupperwares he was holding. When everything is stored, you turn around, but you’re trapped between his body and his arm that holds the fridge door open. With his free hand, he takes you by the waist and pulls you gently towards him. “Careful,” he says so quietly, it’s almost a whisper, and closes the fridge door behind you. 

He’s never been this forward with you, and even though you’ve fantasized many times about this exact moment, now that it’s really happening, you don’t know what to do except to search for an explanation in his eyes. His eyes that are looking right into yours and are a bit clouded over, from the alcohol or the proximity between the two of you or both, you don’t know, but that also have the twinkle of a smile in them. 

His lips are close enough to kiss, you think, and as if on cue, his gaze drifts down to your slightly parted lips. “You’re very pretty, Y/N,” he says, before sealing your lips with his own. You respond immediately to his kiss - you’ve thought too much about it to stand there and do nothing - but it’s all so slow and so soft that you’re not sure if it’s actually happening, so dreamlike it all feels.

You’re called back to reality when his other hand finds your waist, your own hands coming up to his shoulders before one of them snakes its way to the nape of his neck, tugging lightly at his hair. This seems to change something in Sunghoon, who all of a sudden tightens his hold on your waist, his arms wrapping around it to bring you closer to him. His kiss gets faster and deeper too, and, to your surprise but not your distaste, a bit desperate. You’re happy if you have on him half of the power he has on you. You taste sweet vanilla ice cream and tangy beer on his tongue, and it’s not at all unpleasant. It makes you want to eat cherries together so you can then taste them in his kiss. 

A lustful sigh escapes your lips and then the warmth disappears all at once. Sunghoon looks at you like you just woke him up from a deep slumber and takes a step back away from you. You call out for him worriedly and the sound of his name seems to make him think he did something terribly wrong.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I don’t know what came over me. We shouldn’t do this, it’s not- I shouldn’t have done that,” he sighs, looking defeatedly at the ground.

“Why?” you ask quietly, almost inaudible.

“You should go home,” he snaps, then closes his eyes as if in pain, cringing at his harsh tone. “I’m sorry. I think you should go home, it’s getting late,” he repeats, softer this time, but the words still sting.

“O-okay,” you say to the floor, already feeling tears well up in your eyes. You feel like you just got rejected by your high school crush, and the humiliation makes you want to crawl into a hole and die. 

Sunghoon sighs again. “I’ll let you know tomorrow about the furniture shopping, yeah? Chaeryeong is coming in the morning so we can go with her.”

“O-okay,” you repeat, surprised he still wants to do that with you. “Good night, Sunghoon,” you say without looking at him and scurry out of his house.

“Good night, Y/N,” Sunghoon answers to the emptiness after you’ve left, touching his lips with the tips of his fingers and feeling the ghost of your kiss there.

—

Truth be told, you haven’t always loved cherries. Because of a heinous lie your older brother had made you believe when you were just six years old, you hadn’t eaten cherries for two summers in a row. It was the summer your parents had finally allowed you to eat cherries as they came from the trees in your backyard - beforehand, they’d been too scared that you’d choke on the pit or swallow it unknowingly, and had always prepared purées or other forms that cherries can take for you to eat, so to be finally handed the small fruit and told “go ahead, try it,” felt like an honor. 

A simple “don’t forget to spit out the pit” from your mother had sufficed for you to be careful, and yet, your brother had thought a fear tactic would be more effective. “If you swallow it, a tree will grow inside your belly and make you puke out cherries,” he’d lied when it was just the two of you at the outdoor table. 

“Really?” you asked him in disbelief, horror written all over your face as you looked at the seemingly harmless yet deadly fruit in your hand. You’d already eaten two and were in the middle of eating a third; your brother nodding ‘yes’ in response was all it took for you to spit out the cherry furiously and immediately start sobbing, afraid you’d swallowed one even though all three pits were right there on the table, a guarantee that no unwanted flora would grow inside of you. 

Your mother rushed outside at the sound of your wailing and quickly put two and two together when she saw your brother laughing uncontrollably while you hid your face in your hands, desolately imagining your future as a walking cherry tree. She held you tight in her arms as she told your brother off and reassured you that he was just playing a stupid prank on you. Still, the simple thought of swallowing a pit had terrified you and you were unable to eat cherries for the remainder of the summer and the one after that.

This is the story you tell Chaeryeong and her dad as the three of you sit outside together, making them laugh - although, a few minutes later, when Sunghoon is gone to the bathroom away, Chaer leans over the table and whispers, “It’s not true, is it?” so you reassure her that you’ve eaten cherries your whole life and have never had one single root take life in your tummy. 

It’s been a bit over a week after you shared that kiss in his kitchen, and the awkward atmosphere is just starting to fade. You’re glad he didn’t ignore you after that night, even if pretending nothing happened when both of you are very aware that something did happen is only the slightly better alternative. It’s a refreshing change from boys that sleep with you and then act like you don’t exist, for sure.

The kiss hasn’t done anything to burst the tension; if anything, it’s made it even more electric. You catch him looking at your lips more than once and you wonder why he still acts the same way as before when he’s made it very clear he didn’t think kissing you was a good idea. Catching him shirtless one night in his bedroom doesn’t help, and neither does him catching you staring at him - you’d quickly shut the curtains, but it was too late, and he’d seen you ogling his toned chest and abs.

At least, the fact that Chaeryeong is here forces a bubbly atmosphere upon you, and you hope you’re not crazy when you notice him fondly looking at the both of you interacting. Chaer is an outgoing little girl and seems to have liked you as soon as you complimented the toy puppy in her hand, saying you used to have the same and it was your favorite.

The day you went food shopping was practically hell to get through. One evening, you were holding onto Sunghoon for dear life, finally kissing him, and the next afternoon, you were browsing through the endless aisles of your local IKEA, holding his daughter’s hand and pretending like you hadn’t kissed her daddy.

When it got to the bedroom part of the store, you and Chaer decided to try all the mattresses and find the most comfortable one. You usually were never one for seating and laying on random beds in stores, but there was a kid with you, so you were sure it’d be fine. When you found the one you liked most, you looked up at Sunghoon from your position and said, “This one’s pretty good, Sunghoon.” His immediately reddening cheeks told you everything you needed to know and you quickly sat up, clearing your throat. He tested the mattress by pushing his palm against it and muttered a “yeah, it’s pretty good” before scribbling down the number of the mattress onto the small sheet of paper customers use to remember which products they wanted.

Of course, now that Chaer is with him and most of the work in the house is done, save for some minor things that Sunghoon can finish up on his own, you spend a lot less time together. You hate that you miss him so much. You miss the way he makes you feel, like your whole body is on fire with just one look or one touch, the way his stupid jokes make you laugh or how endeared he looks when he talks about his daughter. Seeing him with her only adds to your stupid crush - he’s doting, protective and caring, makes sure she has everything to be happy and manages to treat her at once like the kid that she is but also like a human that has opinions and feelings. He’s a really good dad, and that does nothing whatsoever to stop your DILF fantasies, although now, it’s really Sunghoon that you want, and the fact that he’s a dad isn’t a dealbreaker, it just makes him that much better.

You hate that you miss him, and yet being with him is somehow worse, because you can’t do any of the things you want to do. You fall asleep one two many nights dreaming about his lips and how nice it’d be to feel them again - on your lips, on your neck, everywhere. You want to feel him everywhere, and this longing lust is starting to drive you crazy. You’d never wanted anyone this much.

He invites you over for dinner one night, and the look he gives you when he opens the door sends a shiver right down your spine. “Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi, Sunghoon.”

He leads you into the kitchen with a hand on your waist, even though you’ve been in his house many times before and need no assistance getting there. A small, horny voice at the back of your head tells you that tonight may be the night, but you quickly shut it down, not wanting to get your hopes up all on your own.

Sunghoon serves you a glass of red wine, and you ask him what the occasion is. “Just to celebrate the house being almost done,” he answers with a smile.

Dinner would have gone as usual if Sunghoon wasn’t practically staring you down the whole time, eyes full of something you can’t quite put your finger on and that drives you crazy. His gaze lingers on you every time you speak, and he punctuates the syllables of your name like he’s trying to get a feel for them on his tongue.

Your heart is pounding in your chest when the clock strikes nine p.m. and it’s time for Chaeryeong to go to bed - you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle being alone with Sunghoon, and you might have to make a run for it, Cinderella-style. 

Chaer goes to the bathroom to wash up and change into her pajamas, and when she comes back, she asks - no, demands - that you’re the one who tucks her in, and who are you to say no to the cutest little girl on Earth? She holds you by the pinky as she drags you up the stairs to her room then buries herself in her covers, tapping on the bed next to her body for you to sit there. “Okay, now we can talk without Dad around,” she says all business-like.

She tells you about the boys at her school and the birthday party she went to last week and the latest drama with her friends. The both of you are too busy chatting and giggling to hear footsteps coming up the stairs and stopping at her door, hiding behind the wall. After ten minutes, she yawns loudly and says, “Can you call Dad? I think he’ll be sad if he doesn’t wish me good night.”

“Of course,” you reply and kiss her on the forehead, wishing her a good night yourself. You’re only half-surprised to find Sunghoon at the doorway, waiting for his cue.

“Wait up for me, yeah? I’ll just be a minute,” he says, that smile still on his lips, that smile that keeps you hoping.

“Okay,” you whisper, and head downstairs, nervously taking a sip from your wine glass as you wait for him on the living room couch.

He is indeed back in a very short time, too short a time for your nerves to settle, so when he sits down close to you on the couch, body turned towards yours, you can feel your heart in your throat. He traces the rim of his glass with the tip of his pointer finger and you both watch the slow movement for a bit, a heavy silence hanging over both of your heads. You wait for him to talk because you’re too scared of what you might say if you start the conversation.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he starts shakily, “about um, our kiss, the other day-”

“Oh, we don’t need to talk about that,” you quickly interrupt, waving your hand in dismissal at him. “You made it clear you didn’t like it-”

“No, that’s the thing-”

“And that you thought it was a bad idea-”

“No, just listen-”

“So let’s just forget about it, and-”

“Y/N,” Sunghoon says in a stern voice, raising his tone just enough to make you stop in your rambling.

“Yeah?” you look up at him, eyes wide open. Expecting, as always.

“I haven’t once stopped thinking about that kiss,” he says, sounding out-of-breath. “I handled it awfully, and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t like it, because, God, I liked it. A lot,” he chuckles. “Maybe even too much.”

There they are, the words you’ve been dying to hear. Yet all you can say is a stupid “Oh.”

“I just… I was tipsy, and Chaeryeong was coming the next morning, and I panicked. I didn’t know what to do for the rest of the week, and you didn’t say anything, so I didn’t, either. But I can’t pretend like it isn’t there.”

“Like what isn’t there?” you echo, voice almost low as a whisper.

“You know… this,” he replies, voice as low as yours. Slowly, one of his hands comes up to trace your jawline. You release a shaky breath as you set your wine glass on the coffee table and rest your hand on his knee.

“Are you sure about this? ‘Cause if you tell me that you want me… then I’ll be all yours, Sunghoon,” you murmur, hands slowly sliding up his thigh. He takes you by the wrist and puts your hand right on top of his already growing erection, letting you know exactly how he feels about you.

“God, can’t you see what you do to me? I want you so bad, Y/N,” he almost growls, and with that, his lips are on yours, trapping you into a kiss far hungrier and more ferocious than the previous kiss, your mutual intentions finally laid out in front of you for you both to see.

Sunghoon wastes no time as he grabs you by the waist and brings you to his lap, sitting you on top of his crotch so that you can feel his hardening cock against your core. The kiss turns desperate in mere seconds, and you’re relieved to see that Sunghoon seems to have been waiting for this as long and with as much ardor as you have. Your hands are fisting his hair, tugging almost harshly, while his hands roam the expanse of your back until they settle on your ass, grabbing at it to press you closer to him. You can’t stop yourself from moaning into his mouth when his erection rubs over your core in just the right way, and he takes that opportunity to add tongue to the kiss, deepening it.

You start to grind yourself against him, which he helps you do by slightly rutting his hips into yours and bringing your ass closer at every movement. Quickly, you fall into a rhythm so perfect and that feels so good, you think you might explode right then and there. Forget riding his thigh, this is infinitely better.

Needing to catch your breath, you pull away from the kiss, but your lips find his jaw immediately and you start pressing wet, needy kisses there and down his neck, sucking in some spots so that light bruises appear. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so nice,” he breathes, eyes shut closed. His scent drives you crazy, and his small praise makes you double down on your actions, almost biting the soft skin of his neck.

As you continue kissing him there, occasionally returning to his lips for more, his hands roam your thighs and then up your back, snaking themselves under your t-shirt and finding the clasp of your bra, quickly doing away with it. He pulls away just so he can help you out of your top and takes your bra off of you, hands caressing your sides as he admires your half-naked body in all its glory. You take his hands and bring them to your chest, resting your hands on top of his as you continue grinding onto him and let him play with your boobs. “You’re so fucking hot,” he practically moans, making you chuckle. You reach for the hem of his t-shirt, because it’s only fair that you get to see him too, and you bite back a moan when he uses the absence of your hands on his to pinch your nipples lightly, then takes one in his mouth, catching you off-guard. You forget all about your plan of undressing him as his tongue flicks at the perked bud, your hands finding his hair again as you moan unabashedly. 

“S-Sunghoon,” you breathe, the combined feelings of his now fully hard cock pressing against your clothed but soaking cunt and of his warm mouth around your nipples really getting to your head and making you see stars, so that all you can say is his name. “Please,” you beg, you’re not sure what for. Mercy, perhaps. Or release.

“Please what, baby?” he asks, and the nickname goes straight to your core.

“I don’t- just, please, Sunghoon, please,” you say incoherently, making him chuckle.

“Okay,” he says as if he can read your mind, and you think he actually does when he lays you down on the couch, fingers finding the zipper of your shorts. He unbuttons them and slides them down your legs along with your soaked panties. He makes sure they’re fully off of your body before running his palms up both of your legs, from your ankles to your hips.

“Don’t tease, please,” you plead, too desperate for him to take his time.

“As you wish, princess,” he smirks, and brings a finger to your folds, sliding it down to gather some slick before pushing it inside your hole. Your back arches as an instant response to his touch and you let out a small whine, already craving for more. “Fuck, so wet, and all for me, yeah?” he questions, his eyes not once leaving your glistening pussy.

“Yes,” you breathe out, mind too fuzzy to produce a longer sentence.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos, and adds another finger, pushing all three of his knuckles in and massaging your sweet spot as soon as he finds it. When he’s found a rhythm for his motions, he finally looks up at you and curses himself for not having watched your face earlier. Head tilted back in pleasure, mouth agape as your breathing gets more and more irregular and eyebrows scrunched together, you look like the definition of sex, and it takes everything in Sunghoon to not start touching himself.

He forces himself to look away from you only to focus back on your pussy and notices your swollen clit that is begging for attention. He licks it tentatively, and when your back arches at the feeling of his tongue on you, he dives in completely, licking a stripe up your folds before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking at it like he did with your nipples earlier. The pace at which his fingers are pumping out of you quickens and you’re pulling so hard at his hair, you think you might rip some strands off. You feel yourself getting close, and you’re reminded of all those frustrating encounters with college boys where they stopped right before you came, so you can’t stop yourself as you desperately chant “oh my God please don’t stop please don’t stop,” not even noticing the way you’re holding his head down against your clit and bucking your hips into his face.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck - this is probably the first one you’ve received from someone other than your own hand or your vibrator in the past year and a half. It takes your breath away, and you’re left gasping for air for a good thirty seconds, your mind reeling from the intensity of such pleasure. When you calm down, you lift your head to look at Sunghoon who’s already watching you with a grin on his face, your slick coating his chin and mouth.

You plop your head back down with a groan when realization hits you. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Sunghoon commands, hands rubbing your still-trembling thighs. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he marvels, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Really?”

“Really.”

After another couple of seconds, you sit up on the couch and send Sunghoon a mischievous look. My turn, you think, and if his smile is any indicator then he seems to have understood. “Let me thank you,” you say, gesturing at him to sit up himself as you lower yourself to your knees on the couch in front of him.

You look up at him from between his thighs then unclasp his belt and undo his jeans. He lets out a shaky breath and says, “You don’t need to do this, you know-”

“Don’t be a gentleman, Sunghoon. I want to do this and I know you want it too. It’s pretty obvious,” you tease as you run your hand over his erection, watching in delight as his eyebrows furrow and his eyes close. “Now help me get these off of you.” He nods and raises his hips so you can take his jeans and underwear off, imitating his actions from before as you take your time to get them over his ankles and caressing his legs until they reach his crotch, watching as he takes his t-shirt off as well so that you can finally see him entirely. You’d caught glimpse of him shirtless before as he worked in his garden, but the sight still manages to take your breath away. Taut muscles and sun-tanned skin, laid bare right before you. This is what they mean by sculpted like a Greek god, you think.

You haven’t done anything, yet his head is already laid back against the top of the couch, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulps in expectation and chest rising visibly at every intake of breath. You must’ve saved a thousand souls in your previous life to be deserving of such an image.

You spit in your palm before taking him, starting out by slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, then rubbing small circles against his tip, the small moan-like sighs that leave his lips letting you know you’re doing a good job. You gather some saliva in your mouth and spit on his length to add some lubricant and smirk when he lets out a low fuck. You bring your head closer and lick his balls, taking one at a time in your mouth and sucking very gently, making the volume of his moans increase. “Just like- fuck, just like that, Y/N.”

You then lick a long stripe up his cock and swirl your tongue around his tip when you reach it, humming at the taste of precum there. Sunghoon gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it doesn’t get in your way, and finally looks down at you, blown away by the beautiful sight of your flushed cheeks and your mouth around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper and unconsciously bucks his hips into your throat, making you gag around him. He loves that feeling but doesn’t want to hurt you so he grabs your face and makes you look up at him, lust and worry written all over his face as he apologizes, but you quickly stop him. “It’s okay, I like it. You can do it again,” you say, and smile before wrapping your lips around him once more.

“Fuck, are you sure?” he asks and you hum, sending vibrations all over his body.

“God, o-okay,” he says, in disbelief that you’re okay with him practically fucking your throat and even liking it. And you do like it - you love letting him use your mouth to get off, just like you had earlier with him. He must have amazing core strength because he’s able to buck his hips into your mouth rapidly as he holds your head tight in his hands. The way you keep coming back for more every time he lets you breathe is enough to drive him crazy, but after a couple minutes, he stops you from taking him in your mouth again.

“I can’t- I don’t wanna cum like this,” he breathes, looking just as fucked-out as you do.

“Where, then?” you ask, kissing him all over his thighs as he trails his fingers through your hair. “Inside?”

He groans at the offer but shakes his head, eyes shut as if trying to calm himself down. “I haven’t got any condoms.”

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, still pressing kisses on his warm skin. You’re far too desperate to feel him inside you to let a lack of condom stop you, especially when you don’t even need one.

He lets out an umpteenth shaky breath and makes you look up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Sunghoon,” you say, looking him dead in the eyes, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” You’re relieved when he smiles and nods, bending down to trap your lips in a heated kiss for good measure. Something about being in this position, kneeling in front of his spread thighs and having to look up at him, turns you on even more.

“Okay, then,” he says, still smiling as he pulls away, holding you gently by the chin. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last long, and I want to feel you cum around me. So, tell me, what’s your favorite position, princess?”

The question takes you aback but you answer it anyway, looking at the ground. “Reverse cowgirl…” you admit shyly, a small smile spreading on your lips.

“Reverse cowgirl, huh?” Sunghoon repeats, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking. “Come here, then,” he says, and helps you up, making you turn around so your back faces him and seats you down on top of him, keeping your hips raised. He takes his cock inside his hands, pumps it a few more times before guiding it to your entrance, pressing kisses to your shoulders and nape to make you relax. 

You moan at the simple feeling of his tip teasing your entrance and Sunghoon whispers “I know, baby” against your skin. “Sit down for me,” he commands gently, and you oblige, lowering your hips slowly to feel all of him stretching you out, the both of you moaning in synchronization when he bottoms out.

Sunghoon wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you onto him so that your back rests against his chest and you can let your head hang back next to his. “Let me do all the work, yeah?” he murmurs into your ear, and you hum in response. He doesn’t move for a bit, roaming his large hands all over your body until he feels your walls relax around him. One of his hands finds your breasts, playing with each nipple in turn, while the other finds your clit. It’s all so much but so good that you’re already a moaning mess before he’s even started moving. “Ready?” he asks, but you’re too far gone to answer.

His pace starts out slow, but you’re impatient and whine as you try to move your hips against his to go faster, which makes him tut. “I told you I’d do the work, didn’t I?” he asks, pinching one of your nipples in reprimand. “So be good for me and stay still, Y/N. I promise I’ll make you feel good.” You whine again but stop moving, heeding his words.

“Perfect,” he whispers and kisses your neck before picking up the pace, shushing you when your moans get too loud.

“I’m sorry, just feels too good,” you manage to let out.

“I know, but you need to stay quiet, baby,” he says, yet gets rougher with his thrusts, which does not help in the slightest. His hand that was on your breasts comes up to cover your mouth, but he quickly decides to make you suck on two of his fingers instead, muffling your moans a bit.

His fingers on your clit haven’t relented this whole time and after just a few minutes, you feel that familiar knot tying itself again in your stomach and you know you’re mere moments away from it coming undone. Judging by his rapid but clumsy thrusts, Sunghoon must be close too. He pounds into you like you’ve been wanting him to ever since you first set eyes on him as he entered the hardware store, hitting your g-spot over and over again. Tears roll down your cheeks and you whimper around his fingers, biting down on them as your second orgasm hits you.

You’re practically sobbing as he helps you ride out your high, his movements sending your body into pleasant overstimulation until he reaches his high too, the feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around him pushing him over the edge. Ropes of his semen paint your walls white, and there’s enough of it for him to become a father of two. You whine as he pulls away, and feel his cum slipping out of you and onto the couch underneath you. Before you can catch your breath, he asks, “Baby, can I do something very dirty?” and you nod without thinking much. This man could do anything he wanted to you, and you’d thank him for it.

He settles you back down onto the couch, kneels on the floor, head level with your core, and sticks his tongue inside your hole, making you yelp in surprise and overstimulation. You don’t understand what he’s doing until he comes back up and makes you open your mouth with his thumb, then spits inside it, telling you to swallow. You do as he says and taste his cum, laughing in disbelief at what he just did - and at how much you liked it. “Fuck,” you giggle.

“Was that too much?” 

“God, no,” you say, and he smiles. You open your arms, gesturing for him to get back on the couch. He rests his head between your breasts, the both of you sighing in contentment as he rubs small circles on your belly and you graze your fingers through his hair. He’s so silent that you think he’s fallen asleep, but he speaks up after a while, voice soft and calm like you’ve never heard before.

“We should go get cleaned up…” he says, and you hum in agreement, “...but it’s so nice here,” he finishes, making you giggle.

“If we get cleaned up quickly now, we can cuddle in bed right afterwards,” you argue.

“You’re right. Infallible logic. You’re so smart, you know that, Y/N?” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Of course I know that,” you joke. “Let’s go,” you say, kissing the top of his head.

You take a shower together, cleaning each other and leaving kisses here and there, or touching in places you shouldn’t touch and that maybe lead to more, right there in the shower. Now that you’ve had a taste, you’re insatiable, and you warn Sunghoon that the both of you are in for a very long night, to which he answers that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once you do fall asleep, (which isn’t until two rounds later, and you’re surprised either of you have this much energy), however, you’re holding each other tightly, the fan on high so that you don’t feel all sticky, being so close to each other. Even if you wake up here and there because he shuffled or he snored too loudly, it’s one of the best sleeps you’ve ever had.

—

You wake up the next morning by small giggles and snorts that come from none other than Park Chaeryeong herself, who’s buried herself between you and her dad, shaking her body to wake the two of you. You’re glad that you listened to Sunghoon when he told you to put on a t-shirt of his as well as some underwear so neither you or Chaer would have a fright when she came and woke you up as she liked to do every morning. “You had a sleepover!” she exclaims excitedly when she sees you’ve finally opened your eyes, looking at her with a sleepy expression and a smile.

“We did!” you reply, trying to keep the same level of excitement.

“We did,” Sunghoon repeats, taking his daughter in her arms to hug her tightly and blows a raspberry in her neck to make her laugh.

“You didn’t invite me!” she shrieks when her dad’s left her alone.

“Sorry, sweetheart. It was just me and Y/N.”

“No fun,” she pouts, laying on her back and crossing over arms before turning back to her dad. “So, is Y/N my new mom?” she whispers even though you’re right there. You gasp at her question, making wide eyes at Sunghoon who just snorts, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely asking or if she’s an eight-year-old with an advanced sense of irony.

“Of course not. Is Heeseung your new dad?” he asks, mentioning his ex’s new boyfriend. Chaer shakes her head.

“No. He’s Mommy’s boyfriend.”

“Exactly, and Y/N is Daddy’s girlfriend. Isn’t she?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you, smirking.

“She is,” you reply, and Chaer turns back to you, giggling. She snuggles close to you, wrapping an arm around your middle, and you’re taken aback by the sheer cuteness of it all. You look at Sunghoon with a fake pained expression, and he smiles endearingly at the two of you before sighing and joining you in your hug. He rests his arms around you and his daughter, kissing the top of your heads in turn. 

“My girls,” he mutters in your hair, and you smile peacefully.

There’s a lot of things you have to talk about with Sunghoon. You know your parents - especially your mom - will be okay with the two of you together, but will his parents be? And once semester starts again, what will happen? You’ll have to go back to campus and he’ll have to stay here - will a three-hour drive be a dealbreaker, or will you make it work?

The thing is, there’s no point in thinking about all of this at this moment. You’ve got the whole summer to figure things out. For now, you’ll eat cherries and spit out the pits, and everything will be perfect.

this is a one shot, there will not be a part two!

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts (ask to be removed/added!)

© asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Fetish III

🩶 Summary: *Read Part I first* Alternate ending to Fetish I, where Sunghoon and his pregnant girlfriend may or may not work things out.

🩶 A/N: *sigh* I was not gonna write this. Even though a LOT of people kept asking and wanted to know what would happen after the baby was born. I just wasn't inspired ig 🤷🏾‍♀️. But @srae-22 gave me ✨️ideas✨️, and I didn't even want the ideas, but she made me have them anyway🙄. So we can all thank her for this. Without further ado, please lmk what you think of "Fetish III"...or "Fetish 1.5...?" Idk.

🩶 Warnings: NSFW, smut, pregnancy, angst, an insane amount of crying, daddy!Sunghoon, dilf!sunghoon,petnames ie;doll, baby, pretty etc, pussydrunkhoon!,breeding k!nk, switch!sunghoon, switch!reader, smacking?, dirty talk, oral (f. receiving),degradation k!nk, humiliation k!nk, dacryphilia, squirting

🩶 Word Count: North of 8.5k

Sunghoon's tired, red eyes met the florescent green numbers on his clock for seemingly the millionth time tonight.

3:56 AM

He turned to gaze out of his frosted glass window, watching tiny flakes of snow accumulate on the pane. Sleep was a luxury. A luxury that he couldn't afford, apparently. Not with the way the guilt and pain were eating away at him. It was easier to deal with during the day. When he could keep himself busy and occupied working and hanging out with his friends. But over time, Sunghoon had come to loathe the nights. When he'd be left alone in his quiet, empty room with what-ifs running rampant through his brain.

I miss my baby...

The thought felt foreign in his brain. How could he miss someone that he had never even been given the chance to meet? Nevertheless, there was a hole in his heart and a void in his life that only his baby could fill.

My baby.

He still couldn't really believe it. Somewhere out there was a tiny piece of him, only about a month old if his math was correct. The only tidbit of information that he'd been given was her date of birth and her name.

Her. My little girl.

He choked on a sob at the thought, eyes welling with regret and shame as he thought back to that night.

"Then go."

He knew she wouldn't. Couldn't. Calling her bluff seemed like a smart idea at first. After all, they both knew how desperate she was for him. He didn't think he could lose, but as she stood up and began gathering her clothes, his hands began to shake. Could it be that he had finally pushed her just a bit too far?

"It's late, darling." She frustratedly tugged her sweatpants on, hopping on one foot as she jammed her socks on as well. "And raining. You're terrible at driving in the rain." Why was it so hard for him to ask her to stay?

"Like you care," She scoffed to herself.

She decided to forgo the bra, yanking his her hoodie over her head and storming out the room without as much as a goodbye. She was doing everything in her power to convince herself that this was it. That she didn't need him anymore. He tugged on his briefs and followed behind at a lazy pace, resting his forearms over the railing as he watched her from the top of the staircase.

He watched as she yanked his door open, heart pounding, as he anticipated her next move. She stood, seemingly frozen for what felt like an eternity. A depraved smile spread across his face as she slowly shut the door, unable to even cross the threshold. Her head thudded softly against the door as her frame shook from quiet sobs.

Just as he was preparing to descend the stairs, she lifted her head, wiped her tears, and opened the door once more. He paused in his tracks, waiting. Watching. And without sparing him another glance, she left. He stood in awe for a few second until his brain switched back on. Barefoot and mostly naked, he ran out into the rain after her, calling out for her to stop. But she didn't stop, in fact she didn't slow down at all, easing her car out of his driveway and out of his life.

Sunghoon shuddered at the painful memory. What had he expected? He treated her like shit. Of course she'd want better for her...for their daughter. She had been a month and a half pregnant then, and determined to do her utmost to protect her baby from any and everything. Including her own father.

The second month of her pregnancy, Sunghoon tried to give her space. He had downloaded an app on his phone that told him information about the different stages his baby was going through as she grew in her mommy's tummy. At two months pregnant, his baby was about an inch long according to the app. He could hardly read another word of it because of the way he'd tear up everytime he even opened the app. But he refused to lose hope.

The third month of her pregnancy, Sunghoon felt like he was suffering through withdrawal. He had never gone this long without talking to her, without sleeping with her, without holding her. Call him selfish, but Sunghoon was missing her wet heat more and more everyday, to the point where he could hardly focus on his work. The app said his baby was the size of a plum. After reading that, Sunghoon had developed a strong aversion to eating plums as much as he liked them.

The fourth month of her pregnancy Sunghoon was desperate. He called her every. Single. Day. Morning, noon, and night. Left voice messages, texts, emails, DM's, everything. She ignored them all. He had found out the hard way that she had the locks changed in her apartment when he attempted to see her and his key no longer triggered the gear. The app said his baby was now the size of an avocado, with working ears and eyes.

The fifth month of her pregnancy, Sunghoon was lonely. The app told him that his baby was now roughly the size of a banana and that the gender could be revealed. He left her voicemails begging her to please, please just let him know whether she'd be having his son or daughter. A stranger texted back to let him know that he had the wrong number. That she had changed her number. To get further away from him.

In the sixth month of her pregnancy, Sunghoon wanted to prove that he could help raise the baby. The app said the baby was the size of an ear of corn now. Despite knowing that she officially wanted nothing else to do with him, he showered her in expensive gifts for the baby. Designer clothes that were way too pricy and flashy for an infant who'd surely not care about the brand name. Cribs that were custom-made and hand crafted of African mahogany. Mobiles that played lullaby versions of his songs. Every single gift was wordlessly sent back to him in the mail, with no return address in sight. While it did piss him off, he didn't let it deter him. Instead, he set up the spare bedroom as a nursery, determined that his baby would get to use all of the things he had bought.

The seventh month of her pregnancy, Sunghoon cried every single day. The app said his baby was the size of an eggplant and now had the ability to dream. He wished desperately that he hadn't been so cruel. That he had treated her with the love and respect she deserved from the beginning because now he was suffering for it, and he couldn't remember anything ever hurting this bad.

The eight month of her pregnancy struck Sughoon with a longing so deep he could feel it in the core of his bones. The app told him that his baby was the size of a squash and was definitely kicking by now. He wanted to feel those kicks, the tiny flutters of little feet thumping against his palm as he massaged mommy's tummy and aided in her nesting. He wanted to spend hours putting together complicated and intricate baby furniture while baby and mommy sat in a rocking chair watching him contently. He wanted to hold mommy close and listen to her cute little pregnant snoring whilst she got as much rest as possible while she still could.

The nineth month of her pregnancy, Sunghoon lost so much weight. He couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep. He could hardly breathe in anticipation of the birth of his first child. He sat by his phone constantly, waiting to hear it ring. He couldn't even run to the bathroom or grab a drink from the kitchen without bringing his phone along with him. His friends were so good to him, crashing at his place and keeping him as distracted at they possibly could. The app told him his baby could probably recognize voices and certain songs.

At thirty nine weeks, she birthed his baby. It was four-fifteen in the morning when he received a single text from an unknown number.

Kimora Raè Park

12/23/23

8 lbs 7 oz

Right below the text message was a picture. The love of his life cradling a chubby pink bundle, with a head full of thick dark locks. Two tiny balled up fist with ten little fingers (Sunghoon counted). And a little mole on her face, resting prettily beneath her left eye. Just like his.

The cry that escaped his lungs must have been what woke his friends. They came bursting through his room, bleary-eyed and confused, only to find him hunched over his phone and shaking with sobs. By the time they had gently pried the phone from his grip, they had already put two and two together.

"Did she have the baby!? Is everything alright!?"

He could hardly pull himself together enough to nod.

"S-she had th-the baby." He stuttered shakily.

"Well? What'd she have, hyung? A boy or girl? Did she send pictures?" Niki inquired impatiently.

"A g-girl. You guys, I have a da-daughter!" He cried, feeling such a confusingly mixed set of emotions. They crowded around his phone to see the photo, each of them cooing about how beautiful she was.

"Her n-name...." Sunghoon paused to gather himself. "Her name is Kimora Raè Park. She gave her my family name." His voice cracked as he couldn't hold back his tears from flowing again.

"She did? That's great! Maybe now that she's had the baby, she'll be more open to talking to you?"

That turned out to be wishful thinking at best. Because a month and a half later, Sunghoon was laying in his bed, watching the snowflakes grace his window, still longing to meet his daughter. He listened to the faint sounds of the guys gaming echoing through his house. Even with his best friends practically moving in with him, he still felt so alone. Sunghoon was so sick of crying and feeling helpless. He decided right then and there that he was going to go and meet his daughter, and he wouldn't be returning home until he did so.

He threw his covers back, his pale feet tiptoeing at the feeling of cold hardwoods floors. He ignored it, trudging down the stairs and into the kitchen to grab his keys. The jingling alerted Jake and Jay, momentarily stopping their bickering as they turned their attention to Sunghoon.

They watched as Sunghoon stomped his feet into the closest pair of sneakers and quickly snagged the nearest hoodie he could find.

"Uhhhh...where ya goin', buddy?" Sunghoon hardly even looked in Jake's direction as he answered.

"I'm going to see my baby girl."

"What?! It's like four in the morning, though? Wait, she said you could come over!?"

"Nope." Sunghoon swung the front door closed behind him, taking big strides to his car.

He hardly remembered the ride to her apartment, but he was so excited that he didn't even care. He stood outside her door for the first time in months, feeling queasy, and nauseated and terrified. He knocked thrice, firm but not too loud as it was still quite early.

"Coming!" He heard her muffled tinkerbell voice on the other side, the sound filling his ears and making him feel like his thirst for her had been quenched just a little. He could tell she wasn't expecting him, her wide eyes taking in his frame before she tried to shut the door in his face. He caught it instinctively, peering down into her soul as he held it open.

"Hi." He mumbled sheepishly.

"What are you doing here?! Do you know what time it is?!"

"It's time for me to see my baby."

"Sunghoon. What the fuck? You can't just show up at my door at four-thirty in the morning and demand to see the baby. You need to-"

"It's been a month and a half since she was born! It's way past time I get to see her. You didn't let me come to any appointments, let me see any ultrasound pictures, you didn't even tell me if we were having a boy or girl! I know... I know how you feel about me. About my dependability. But..." The sight of his tired eyes welling was painful for her to see.

"But she's my baby too." His voice cracked. "And it's not fair for you to keep me from being a part of her life. I'm begging you. To put aside the way you feel about me... and let me see my baby." He could see her debating internally.

"I've a-already missed so much. Please." He begged.

Before she could reply, he heard a tiny cry from somewhere in her apartment. He gasped aloud at the sound, his eyes meeting hers again.

"I-is, is that...?" She nodded wordlessly, looking torn between slamming the door in his face and letting him in. Sunghoon was ready to get on his knees and beg at this point. She sighed deeply, shaking her head to herself.

"Come in."

Just two little words. But they had already changed Sunghoon's entire life.

He stepped in, removing his shoes and hoodie at the door.

"Go and wash your hands."

He quickly did as told, hoping she didn't notice how badly his hands were shaking. He sat anxiously on her couch, watching as she disappeared into a small room. He listened to her coo and hum to the baby, the air evaporating from his lungs as she returned with a small, pink bundle. She sat beside him on the couch, turning the baby to face him. Sunghoon could only see her pretty little face for about five seconds before he was once again crumbling in a heap of tears. He hung his head low, hands covering his face, embarrassed at the low sobs erupting from his chest. He was surprised at the feeling of her fingers stroking soothingly through his hair.

"Shhh. It's ok," She whispered. "It's okay, Hoon." He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and did his best to stop crying so he could see his baby.

She was perfect.

He could see himself in many of her tiny features, little ears that looked like his, eyes that were shaped like his, and her tiny mole. And he could also see so much of her mommy, her lips, and cute button nose. She was the perfect blend of the two of them.

Sunghoon had never believed in love at first sight until now.

He could have sat there staring at her for the rest of his life. Watching the way her little fists twitched in her sleep. He reached out to run a finger over her chubby cheek, melting at how soft she felt. The gesture caused her to stir awake, big almond eyes settling on him. She stared at him. And he stared back feeling like he was in a trance almost.

"I've been dreaming of this moment since the night you left me." He let slip. She didn't say anything in return, watching as he gently unwound her tiny fist to wrap around his pinky finger.

"She's so pretty." He whispered, more to himself than to her.

"We... we call her Kimmy. That's her nickname." It suited her somehow. His Kimmy.

"Kimmy," He repeated, his eyes never once leaving her face. "And you gave her my last name?" He hoped she'd just ignore the wavering in his tone.

"Of course I did. You're her daddy." His eyes shot up to look at her in awe.

"You have....you have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you." She tried to shrug it off, but now her eyes were starting to tear up too.

"Do you want to hold her?"

"Can I?" She placed the baby in his arms, showing him how to support her neck comfortably. She couldn't put into words the way she felt looking at the sight before her. She could see Sunghoon falling in love.

"Here. Keep an eye on her while I run to the bathroom." He nodded absent-mindedly, fixing the pink monogrammed hat on Kimmy's head.

Before he could say anything, she was practically running out of the room to lock herself in the bathroom. She turned the tap on and covered her mouth to muffle the sob that escaped her. Guilty. That's how she felt. The image of a lovestruck Sunghoon cradling his baby for the first time would be burned in her brain forever. The look in his eye, the soft touch he held her with, told her everything. He'd be a good daddy. She had let her hurt feelings push him away and keep him from seeing a piece of him that was just as much his as it was hers. She had treated him so unfairly, so cruel, just as he had done to her. But worse. Because not only was she keeping him from seeing his baby, but she was keeping her baby from having her daddy. She did her best to gather herself, making sure she looked presentable before returning to her living room. She stood in the doorway, watching as Sunghoon quietly murmured to the baby. He was cradling her against his chest, bringing her chubby hand to his lips to kiss. She felt almost like she was intruding as she listened.

"Hi, my pretty baby. Hi, beautiful. I'm your Daddy, and I love you so, so much. I'm so sorry I'm just now meeting you. I promise you, I've thought of you every single day, every hour, every minute since the second your mommy told me about you. Daddy's going to do his very best to take care of you, okay? I'll never, ever leave you again. No matter what. Daddy loves you, baby." He didn't even notice she was watching him until he heard her quietly clear her throat.

"Can I take her hat off?" She nodded, watching as he removed her little hat, fingers stroking over her silky curls.

"She's perfect." He murmured. "Absolutely perfect. How could she have come from us, from me?" She snapped a picture of them whilst he was distracted, smiling at the sight she hadn't even permitted herself to imagine for the past year. He watched his baby's face scrunch for a second before she started to cry.

"She's probably hungry." Sunghoon hated to hand her back the baby. He expected her to go and feed the baby in the nursery, but was completely caught off guard by her tugging the front of her tank top down and feeding her right in front of him.

"Nothing you haven't seen before." She stated. But the sight in front of him, of her nursing his baby certainly was a sight he had never seen. Nevertheless, he was grateful she felt comfortable enough to do so in front of him. He watched intently, listening to his baby's content suckling as she ate. She didn't feed for very long, growing full in a matter of minutes.

"Do you want to burp her?" Sunghoon felt like he was in a dream. He held her up to his shoulder, gently patting her back until he heard a tiny burp. Followed by warmth running down his back.

"Oops. She threw up." He felt her gently wipe his back with a cloth. "I still have some of your t-shirts if you want to change."

"You do?" He asked. She hummed in confirmation.

"I wore your t-shirts my entire pregnancy. They were like a safety blanket for me. My hormones were all over the place. I cried for three months straight when they stopped smelling like you." She admitted sheepishly. Sunghoon could feel his heart doing parkour in his chest.

"Oh. R-really?"

"Yes. I missed you so much. You were the only pregnancy craving that I denied myself." She figured she might as well spill.

"I missed you too. Every day since you left, I've missed you. I'm sorry I was such an ass-" His eyes darted down to his now sleeping daughter. "Such a jerk to you. I don't know what was wrong with me. Why I treated you the way that I did. I'm sure it's difficult to believe, but I really did... I do love you. And I promise I've matured so much this past year."

"I can see that, Hoon."

"Then maybe we can give this another shot? To be a family?"

"Let's just start with you being a part of our lives. I don't want to rush into a relationship right now. My hormones are still totally out of whack, and I really just want to focus on being a mom for now. I'm not saying no. Just... maybe not yet." He was both disappointed and delighted at her answer.

"Ok."

For the next few months, Sunghoon proved himself to be more than reliable. As the baby grew older, they grew closer. It was impossible for her to deny their mutual attraction, their magnetism. Sunghoon had indeed matured. Gone was the immature boy that strung her along for his own selfish game. Replacing him was a man, who took his job off taking care of both her and his baby seriously. Since reentering her life, Sunghoon had made it clear that he planned to take care of both her and the baby physically, financial, and emotionally. He hadn't allowed her to pay for as much as a single diaper since that day he showed up on her doorstep.

Sunghoon was happy to say that he now got to see his baby on an almost daily basis. He was present for every doctor's appointment, listening attentively to every words the pediatrician said and soothing his crying baby after a round of shots. He was willing to change even the gnarliest diapers, not even flinching when it got messy. And he was great at bath time, maybe even better than Mommy was, gently washing and detangling her mess of curls. And he hadn't complained about any of it even once. Whether or not Sunghoon realized it, she (and everyone else for that matter) could clearly see that Sunghoon was born to be a dad. He never stopped telling her how grateful he was to her for making him a daddy. She honestly felt so much relief. Although she was only alone for about a month, taking care of a baby all alone had been hard. With Sunghoon, things were so much easier.

In fact, all of the boys had stepped up and integrated themselves into Kimmy's life in some way. Heeseung and Jungwon could often be found singing to or feeding her. Jay liked to buy her outfits that he thought were cute, and Sunoo had taken to dressing her up and styling her curls in cute but messy pigtails and buns. Jake and Niki were obsessed with her soothing baby scent and could often be seen either cuddling (sniffing) her in their arms or passed out on the couch with her. She was eternally grateful and proud of the village of people helping raise her daughter.

"Sunghoon, where's the bottle warmer?" She asked as she passed him the fussy five month old.

"I think we left it back at your apartment." This part, however, was frustrating. Because of the constant back and forth between his place and hers, she was constantly forgetting things.

"You know..." He started, and she already knew where this was going.

"Don't start, Sunghoon."

"If you'd just move in with me, then all of Kimmy's stuff would be in one place." She huffed irritably.

"Come onnnnn. It's been what, four months since you said we could be a part of each other's lives. And they've been the best four months of my entire life. There's only two things that could make my life any better right now. And one of them is if you and Kimmy finally move in with me."

"And the other?" She asked dryly.

"If you'd marry me. But I don't think you're quite ready for that conversation yet." He was making her heart palpitate, and judging by the grin on his face, he was enjoying it.

"Shut up." She covered her face in embarrassment.

"No," He laughed. "You know I love you, Mommy. I just want to be with you and Kimmy." Sunghoon had taken a liking to calling her either Mama or Mommy and having her call him Daddy. It made him feel like they were a real family. And he also found it to be hot as FUCK, but he didn't think she needed to know that.

"I love you too, Daddy." It had been over a year since he had heard her utter such words. She looked away shyly, startling at the feeling of him gently gripping her chin and turning her head to kiss her. The feel, the taste, of her lips against his was nothing short of bliss.

A dull ache resonated in the pit of his stomach, his dick becoming increasingly stiff in his pants.

"Say it again." He whispered against her lips.

"I love you, Daddy." This time, he could feel his dick twitching in response. It had been so long since she had felt his touch, his kiss, his big dick bullying its way into her guts. The thought was making her head feel foggy.

"I think it's time for Kimmy to have a nap. So that Mommy and Daddy can have some alone time, hmm?" She nodded back, watching as he rocked the baby gently.

"Go to sleep, Kimora Raè. Daddy's been waiting a loooong time for this." She heard him mutter.

Sunghoon's heart ached at the sight of her long, thick lashes fluttering shut over her chocolate colored eyes. He stood, bouncing her gently as he walked to the nursery, hoping with everything in him that she'd stay asleep for at least an hour or two. He laid her down in her crib, cracking the door to her nursery before returning to his spot on the couch.

"Come here, Mommy." She was straddling his lap before he could even finish his sentence.

"Daddy's missed you so much." He groaned at the feeling of her weight settling atop the steel rod in his sweatpants.

"I've missed you too. I was so lonely without you, Sunghoon." The way she was peering into his eyes was making him feel hot and nervous, like it was their first time all over again.

"I was too. So lonely....And finding someone else to fill that void wasn't even an option. I hoped that you'd eventually forgive me so that we could be together again." His voice became airy at the feeling of her lips caressing his jaw. His head rolled back, resting against the couch as she covered his neck and jaw in kisses.

"Of course replacing me wasn't an option. We go through our ups and downs, but at the end of the day... we belong together." She buried her fingers in his hair before planting a deep kiss on his lips. He could feel her desperation in the kiss, her longing for him, her love.

He finally felt whole again.

His arms snaked around her waist, holding her close and fiddling with hem of the t-shirt she had stolen from his closet this morning. He didn't ask, simply tugging the garment up and over her head, pleasantly surprised to see that she was braless underneath and she didn't fight him on it. He could, however, feel her beginning to shrink back a bit, her arms wrapping protectively around her breasts and stomach. She was kind of panicking internally at the thought of him seeing the extra bit of weight around her stomach. The faint stretch marks that pregnancy had left on her skin.

"What's wrong?" He mumbled against her lips.

"I- nothing. It's just.... it's been so long since we've done this. And I don't know, my body has changed a bit since having Kimmy and I'm nervous that you might not find me as attract-"

"Cut that shit out. I'm more attracted to you right now than I've ever been. And any changes that your body has gone through to give me my perfect baby, I love. I promise." He unwrapped her hands from around herseld, replacing them with his own and gripping her in a tight hug.

"In fact," She felt him grip two handfuls of her ass, giving a rough squeeze. "I really like the tiger stripes." He winked, and it gave her the confidence boost she needed.

And Sunghoon wasn't lying. She had always been sexy to him, but seeing the way her pretty body had changed was making his briefs feel entirely too tight for the erection straining within them. The way her breast had grown, swollen and heavy from nursing his baby. Her hips, just a bit fuller than he remembered, making her hourglass shape seem even more defined. The cutest bit of pudge around her tummy, perfect for him to grip while stuffing her stomach full of his dick. And the stretch marks, something Sunghoon had always been secretly aroused by, decorating her skin faintly was enough to drive him wild. All of these changes to her body were his doing because he had gotten her pregnant. He felt a bead of precum oozing out of him at the thought.

Sunghoon approved of these changes, to say the least.

"You're too fucking pretty. So sexy. I dunno, baby. Might not last too long this first time." He grunted, fiddling with the waistband of her lacy boyshorts as she peppered his jawline in kisses.

"It's ok. I won't last very long, either."

"You never do." He smirked.

"Shut up."

"It's the truth. You always cum so fucking fast for me. Because I know exactly how to touch you, don't I? And eat you....fuck you.... which do you want to feel first, Mama?"

"Eat me, Daddy?"

He kissed her sensually, and she felt like she was being seduced by him for the first time all over again. He left a trail of passionate kisses down her neck, taking his time to lick and suck hickeys into every sensitive spot that he could remember she had. She shivered at the feeling of his rough hands groping her tits, his kisses trailing across her heaving chest, a gasp escaping her at the feeling of his sharp canines nipping at her.

"Sunghoon! You have to be g-gentle. I'm nursing so they're so sensitive." She moaned as his nips turned to gentle kisses, his groping into sweet carresses.

"Sorry, Mama. Got a bit too excited. I'll be gentler." He tugged his own shirt off and picked her up easily, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to his bedroom. He layed her down onto his silk sheets, mentally applauding himself for tidying up earlier in the week. He flicked the light on, groaning aloud as he palmed his thick erection in arousal. He jumped right back in where he left off, unable to stop himself from leaving wet trails of his saliva in the valley between her breast as he slowly made his descent down her abdomen. He stopped to press kisses to her tummy, imagining to himself how pretty she must have looked when she was pregnant.

"Daddy," She breathed anxiously. "You're making me feel nervous. Can we t-turn the light back out?"

"Why? I want to see you, baby. I already told you. I- fuck..." He swore at the wet patch soaking through her panties. "...I don't care what you say, I love how fucking pretty your body is." He left wet kisses all over her stomach as he toyed with her panties.

"Shit. Look how wet you are for me. What a good fucking girl, you are." He grinned wolfishly.

All self conscious thoughts left her head as he leaned in and kissed the wet spot, a clear string of her arousal sticking to his lips. He made a show of licking her juices from his lips before his slender fingers were curving into the waistband of her panties. His mouth watered as her thighs spread wide open for him, practically serving him her dripping cunt on a silver platter.

"I've been fantasizing... dreaming about this pussy for so fucking long, baby. Please. Don't ever make me wait this long to have you ever again."

"I won't, Daddy." She moaned impatiently.

"Good."

Sunghoon had to mentally compose himself. He wanted to ravage her, to push her knees into her chest and fucking eat. Without giving her time to think or breathe or move. But he also wanted to savor the moment. He had worked hard to get back into her good graces and now he was finally receiving his reward.

He settled for placing gentle, teasing kisses all over her smooth mound grinning as she got wetter and wetter until her entire little cunt was a sloppy wet mess. His hair was wild from her shaky fingers tugging at it, plump pink lips glossy from her arousal.

"Sunghoon? Please, Daddy?" She whimpered.

"What is it, Mama? Tell Daddy what you want."

"No more teasing." She whined, watching him rub his sticky lips together.

"Shhh. We've got to be quiet, babylove." She nodded, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Your juicy cunt feels so good against my lips. So wet and slippery. I can feel your little clit throbbing for me, Mama. Want me to kiss it?" Her entire body jerked in sensitivity to his lips grazing her quivering bud ever so gently after teasing her for so long.

"Suck on it?" As soon as he suckled against her bud, his hand shot up to cover the cries he knew would pour out from her mouth. Her warm, thick thighs muffled the sound of her moaning and thrashing against his sheets, her cunt spasming in orgasmic waves. He couldn't help but moan around her bud, watching as the added vibration made her eyes roll back into her head. He could feel her juices dripping down his chin and neck, anticipation filling his veins as the scent of her arousal wafted up his nose. She lay shaking in pleasure as Sunghoon pulled off of her clit with a pop.

"I told you you wouldn't last long." The sight of his dripping face pulled into a smug yet innocent smile made her stomach flutter.

"Fuck.....you." She giggled breathlessly.

"It's not your fault, Mama. I'm an animal when it comes to eating this pretty pussy. You didn't stand a chance." She laced her fingers with his, pulling him until he was hovering over her. She kissed him shamelessly, enjoying the taste of her cunt on his tongue.

He shivered as her cold hands lovingly caressed his sides, trailing down to tug at the drawstring holding his sweatpants up. He let her pull the knot loose, fingers pushing both his sweats and briefs down until she couldn't reach any further. He took over, discarding the clothes haphazardly and settling back between her legs. A desperate groan escaped his throat as his cock settled in between her folds, his hips thrusting instinctively. He ground his length against her slit slowly, face buried in her neck as he grunted in pleasure.

"Fuuuuck, yessssss," He hissed.

"We'll see who's having trouble lasting." She grinned evilly at the sight of his eyes going unfocused and glassy, his jaw going slack as he pushed his twitching tip into her core.

Sunghoon was already pussy drunk. He moaned like an absolute slut as she took every inch of him into her warm, wet pussy. His mind seemed to only have tunnel vision, his sight slightly blurring at the edges as his hips settled against hers. She felt an awesome sense of power at the sheen of sweat now coating his body, the shivers wracking his larger frame.

He only made it worse better for himself when he took her legs and brought them to rest over his shoulders. He rested there inside of her for a moment, before giving a tiny experimental thrust. His head immediately rolled back onto his shoulders and his hips seemed to take over entirely on their own, a fast sloppy pace igniting a burning pleasure in his stomach.

Seeing how sensitive and pussy drunk he was was making her so horny, her walls clenching around his thrusting cock as she moaned.

"Fuck." He groaned. "You've gotta stop clenching around me like that, Doll, or I'm gonna cum so fucking fast."

"I can't help it. I love when you get all desperate and pussy drunk." She teased.

"I'm not p-pussy drunk, ooooh." He moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head, drooling a bit as she clenched even harder around him.

"You're not, Daddy?"

Sunghoon was so gone he couldn't even answer her.

"Good! Fuck! So good. Pussy is so fucking good." She wasn't sure if he was talking to her or not, but the way he was whining was making her cream in excitement all over his length. His gaze lazily trailed down her body, stopping to rest between her legs, enchanted by the sight of his hard dick pistoning in and out of her tight kitty.

And with the way he was balling her up, she was almost worried about him seeing the little rolls of her stomach until she felt him take a firm hold of said rolls and use them as leverage to fuck into her even harder. Sunghoon, on the other hand, had never felt such a strong physical reaction to her body. He loved the extra bit of weight on her. He was fucking her with stars and hearts in his eyes, still in disbelief at how all of these changes in her body came from taking his dick.

"Shiiiiiit. So fucking good, Mama. Love you so fucking much." The thick, frosty glaze encapsulating his dick was making him salivate.

"So fucking wet for me. Tight little pussy is creaming my dick so good." He mumbled to himself. She tugged at his hair until his eyes met hers, biting her lip at the faraway look in his dark irises.

"Mhmm, dick feels soooo good. Love you too, Daddy." His breathing deepened, body going tense.

"Oh f-fuck! Oh fuck! Not gonna last, b-baby. Need to fucking cum." He whimpered.

"Already? My pathetic, pussy drunk baby." She felt his dick harshly twitch within her as he grew more and more sensitive.

"P-promise I'll take care of you. But I need... I...fuck! Please? I need....Mama?" He struggled, stumbling over his sentence as his brain fogged over.

And shit, he might've been embarrassed if it didn't feel so fucking good.

"What a waste of perfectly good dick."

His balls tightened in anticipation, knowing what was going to happen next. She was going to degrade and humiliate him, and it was going to send him flying headfirst into an orgasm that'd surely leave him breathless and exhausted.

"Whats the point of having such a perfect cock if you can't even last ten minutes without cumming like the touch starved whore you are, Sunghoon?"

"Fuck."

"Pathetic. Open your mouth." He opened wide, moaning desperately as she spit into his mouth.

"Now swallow it like a good boy." Sunghoon was starting to get lightheaded, his eyes once again fluttering shut in bliss as she roughly wrapped her fingers around his neck.

"Look at you. Such a pretty slut for me, Sunghoon. Aren't you?"

"Mmmm." He keened.

"Say it."

"I'm- I......." He trailed off. Sunghoon's neck whipped to the side, every hair on his body standing at attention from her smacking him. She gripped his jaw roughly.

"I don't care how close you are to cumming, or how good my pussy fucking feels. If I ask you a question, you answer me. Don't make me ask again."

"I'm a p-pretty slut for y-you." He mewled as the heat burning in the pit of his stomach reached new and unexplored temperatures.

"Yes, you are. Now cum for me, my pretty slut."

Sunghoon felt that heat spread to every orifice in his body, his toes curling, body going rigid as he tiptoed dangerously close to cumming. He dared to let his eyes drop once more between her legs, the visual of their fucking shoving him over the edge. His eyes rolled, seeing stars, as he tried to suppress the wail that slipped past his throat. He could feel his dick lurch angrily within her, aggresively spewing his leak against her cervix. Sunghoon found that the pleasure was so intense that he could no longer continue his harsh thrusts, so sensitive that all he could do was ride out his high buried deep inside of her. He whimpered and whined into her ear, moaning, begging, swearing as he filled the empty space in her womb with more of his nut than she had the capacity to hold. It dripped out around him onto his expensive silk sheets as he shivered through his aftershocks. He collapsed weakly on top of her, gasping as she wiggled her legs down off of his shoulders to rest against his mattress once again. He gripped her roughly to stop her wiggling, rolling his eyes as it made her giggle.

"You ok, Hoonie?"

"Fuck you." Her giggle turned into a full on laugh as he repeated her response from earlier.

"Drives me fucking wild when you degrade me like that. Shit. That felt so fucking good. I literally haven't had a real orgasm since the last time we were together. Unless you count the occasional wet dream." He panted, face buried in her shoulders.

"Really? You haven't even touched yourself?"

"I wanted to at first, but I'd never end up finishing because it never felt as good as when you touched me. Eventually, I just stopped trying." He snuggled into her embrace comfortably.

"Did you touch yourself, Mama?"

"Just about everyday."

"What?!" He gasped, sitting up so he could look at her in shock.

"My pregnancy hormones were insane. I craved your dick like a fiend the whole nine months."

"I might actually cry. I can't believe I missed out on that." He pouted.

"If it makes you feel any better..." He felt an instantaneous twitch in his dick as she kissed a sensitive spot on his neck. "...I don't think that particular craving will ever be fully satisfied. I think I'll always crave you. Always."

"Yeah?" She didn't miss the way his tone had dropped a few octaves.

"Yeah. I love you, Hoon."

"I love you more, babydoll." He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in what was supposed to be a chaste kiss. But the way she was rolling her hips into his reminded him that he still had unfinished business to take care of. So he kept kissing her, his tongue slowly tangling with hers until he started to harden again within her heat.

"Are you hard again already?" She mumbled.

"It's been like a year and a half since we last had sex. I'm pent up." He grunted, melting at the feeling of her lips turning up in a smile against his.

She didn't say anything else, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him tight as he began to move. He pinned her sweaty frame to the bed with deep, slow thrusts, the sound of juicy wet slaps filling his bedroom. He gripped her legs, pushing her knees into her chest in a mating press. He could tell she liked it by the way she tightened and fluttered around his length, a long drawn out moan escaping her.

"Feel good, Mama?" She nodded quickly, squeaking as he landed a sharp smack to her ass.

"I don't care how close you are to cumming or how good my dick feels. If I ask you a question, you fucking answer me." He teased.

"You're such a fu-fucking asshole." She'd never get tired of that cocky smirk on his face as he leaned over her on his fists. With him leaning over her now, his angle changed and he was now rutting directly into her g-spot causing her to see stars.

"Daddy! Fuck! Just like that, keep fucking me just like that, Daddy, yes!" Her pleasure filled squeals were like an aphrodisiac to Sunghoon. He picked up his pace, slamming into her spot repeatedly, feeling it swell in preparation for orgasm.

"Close, so close!" Her voice cracked as she attempted to close her legs, nearly hyperventilating as he started to suck hickeys into her neck.

"Baby?" Sunghoon groaned.

"Yes! Fuck, yes, Daddy?"

"Let's get married." He grinned into the crook of her neck, feeling the cusp of her orgasm approaching.

"Sunghooooon." She moaned, back arching, pleading to be closer to him as the thought of being his wife made her gush.

"Yeah? You like the thought of that, huh, Princess? Want me to buy you a ring, make you my pretty little wife, hmm? Maybe even give our baby a little sibling-" A startled moan cut him off as her pussy began to strangle his dick.

"Oh? Does that turn you on? You want me to breed you? Put another one of my babies in your tummy?"

"Yes! Please!" She squealed.

"Fuck, I want it to, Mama. Wanna plant my seed in this fertile little pussy and make a baby. Will you let me, doll? Let me get you pregnant again?"

She was unable to answer him as her orgasm washed over her like a wave. Sunghoon felt a wet, warm stream splash against his groin as she squirted. He kept fucking into her, bringing his thumb down to rub slow, firm circles onto her swollen, quivering clit, an arrogant laugh bubbling up from within him as she squirted again for him.

"Who's pathetic now?" He asked landing a quick smack to her still streaming cunt.

"Your dick hungry little pussy is squirting at the thought of taking my cum, but I'm pathetic? And you're still cumming, baby. I can feel your nasty little cunt squeezing around me again. I bet you want to feel me cum inside you again, slut. Like the good little cum dump you are."

He was manipulating her body to keep cumming for him. Again and again until he was satisfied. The idea of being at his mercy, of him having total control over her made her cum a fourth time, tears streaming down her face as she convulsed in orgasmic euphoria.

"Aww, are you crying? My poor girl. Dick is that good, huh baby?" He grunted.

"Those pretty tears... are gonna make me put a baby inside of you." Her birth control didn't stand a chance at this point. When she sobbed out a concupiscent, "Daddy!" Sunghoon followed her right over the edge and into his second orgasm.

His second orgasm was pure carnal rapture. Erotic, intense, libidinous, hot. It started once again as an ache in the pit of his stomach. Turning into a burning fire, the flames licking at every nerve ending in his body, a pleasure so raw that he could do nothing to suppress his cries of satisfaction. He felt like he was dying, she was killing him with the gift of a pussy so perfect he could feel the tears welling in his own eyes. He bit out a harsh swear, hips stuttering as she milked him dry, pussy swallowing and sucking and stroking every last drop of his spend out of him. He gasped and hiccuped and cried out loud enough to wake his entire block, not caring if the entire world heard how good her pussy was making him feel. He came down from his high very slowly, whimpering at the residual waves of pleasure, eyes resting shut as he listened to her ragged breathing.

"You ok, Mama?"

"I'm amazing. You ok, Daddy?" She sighed, dreamily.

"Yes." Actually, for the first time in a year and a half, Sunghoon was more than ok. He pulled out slowly, overstimulating the both of them despite his efforts. He watched contently as she stretched out, practically purring like a cat. Just as he was about to cuddle up to her soft, warm body he heard the baby cry.

"Kimmy's up," He yawned. He pulled his briefs back on before tossing her a t-shirt.

"I'll get her, my love."

She lay in deep thought, listening as he washed his hands before disappearing into the nursery. She heard him soothingly shushing Kimmy, and judging by how long it was taking him to return she assumed changing her as well. It didn't take him long to reappear, handing her the baby and resting his head on her shoulder as he watched Kimmy latch on and start feeding. He twirled her ebony curls around his finger, occasionally stroking her soft chipmunk cheek.

"Sunghoon?"

"Yes, darling?"

"I thought about what you said earlier. And I think it's a good idea... I mean I think we should. I want to."

"You mean what I said about you and Kimmy moving in?" He asked excitedly.

"That's great, baby! I'm so, so happy to hear that. I promise you, you won't regret it, Doll. This is an actual dream come true for me."

"I know I won't regret it. I want that to, but that's not what I was referring to."

"Then what...?" Sunghoon didn't dare let himself imagine she was saying what he thought she might've been saying.

"Let's get married." She stated with the softest, surest smile on her face.

Fin.

A/N: For the ones who had unanswered questions after reading part I of this series, I hope this quenched your curiosity, and was a satisfying read! I'm curious to know your thoughts so please don't hesitate to send me an ask or comment 🫶🏾

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