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Language Barrier

Pairing: Lee Minho x Reader

Word Count: 7K

Tags: fluff, first meeting, first kiss, strangers to lovers

Summary: When the power goes out while you’re in an ATM vestibule, you come to realize you’re stuck inside until the police come to open the door. But there’s one problem, you don’t speak a lick of Korean, and the man inside doesn’t seem to speak an ounce of English.

———

A/N: Please note that sentences that are Italicized are meant to be in Korean and sentences that are regular text are in English.

‘How are you?’ - English

‘I’m fine thank you, and you?’ - Korean

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Luck was not on your side today.

It’s not like you’re an unlucky person as a whole, no, that’s not it. Today was just one of those days that when you say ‘How could this get any worse?’, the universe takes it as a challenge.

Perhaps you should’ve just kept your mouth shut after you spilled coffee on your blouse this morning. But, you’ve always been such a ‘glass-half-full’ sort of person that you tried to take every inconvenience in stride. Everyone has their limit, though.

Before you came here on a business trip, you had heard about the Korean Monsoon season.

Everyone and their mother told you about how much it would pour, how it would feel like the skies suddenly opened up. But, you didn’t take anyone’s warning seriously. You would wave them off with a scoff.

“It’s just rain,” you thought. “How bad could it be?”

You’re eating those words now as you run through the streets in your nice, newly-soaked, professional heels. Your slacks are sticking to your legs, making the fabric ten times heavier. With your bag held over your head, you look around frantically for the bank.

It doesn’t help that it’s close to 10 PM and visibility is already horrible at this time. Yes, you should have gone earlier, but you were distracted!

Where is it? Where is it?

There!

You spot the glass doors and practically sprint up to them, grab the handle, and rip the door open.

A giant sigh of relief comes out of your lips as you step inside the tiny vestibule.

The only other man inside the place jumps a bit at your noise. He glances over his shoulder at you, but immediately turns back to what he’s doing at the ATM. You pay him no mind as you shake the rainwater off of your bag.

It’s after hours at the bank, meaning the only thing open and available is one ATM inside the room between the bank itself and the streets of Seoul.

Soft beeping comes from the ATM as the other man presses a few buttons. There’s an umbrella on the floor at his feet.

After brushing the water off your jacket, you bring your bag in front of you and start fishing out your card. Countless items inside your bag are now completely soaked.

Ugh, there goes all those business cards you collected at the meeting. Most of the ink is bleeding off the cardstock. Maybe, if you try really hard, you can make out the phone numbers on the cards.

Is that a 6 or an 8?

Or maybe the email addresses will be easier to understand. Surely, it just their names and their company’s–

There’s a bright flash of lightning followed immediately by a booming clap of thunder at the same time the lights in the ATM vestibule flicker and go out completely.

You fight the yelp that bubbles in your throat. The man in front of you seems to lose the fight against his reactions and lets out a tiny yip.

His shoulders come up and he seems to bristle like a cat.

“You’re kidding,” you mumble, looking up at the lights. It was almost pitch black inside now, save for the tiny emergency lights that kick on on either side of the glowing Exit sign.

The man lets out a grumble and a sigh.

You look over and see that the ATM has completely shut off. Figures.

The storm must’ve triggered some sort of power outage. Great. Now you’ll have to find some other ATM.

Why, oh why, did the restaurant that your boss wanted to take you to tomorrow morning have to be cash only?

Whatever, there should be a bank a few blocks from here.

Your heels click on the tile as you make your way to the door. When you grab the handle and pull, it doesn’t budge.

There’s a beat.

You try again, really putting your back into it this time.

“Am I stupid or what?” you whisper to yourself, trying the other door and pulling equally as hard.

“They’re not going to open,” the man behind you says. “The fail-safe locks probably kicked in once the power went out. It’s a security measure.”

You turn around and look at him with a blank look on your face. “Oh, ah, um… s-sorry, no… no Korean.”

The man blinks at you. “You don’t speak Korean?”

You blink right back at him. “Um…” All you can do is shake your head with wide eyes and a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry,” you repeat.

Another series of blinks are exchanged.

“No… Korean?” he asks slowly. His English sounds so unsure.

You nod. “No… no Korean.”

A tiny, exasperated sigh comes from his lips and he looks around, as if anything inside this tiny little room would be able to help him communicate with you. Meanwhile, you turn back to the door and give it another sharp tug to no avail.

“No,” he says firmly, drawing your attention back to him. He motions down to the door handles and then shakes his head.

“No?” you repeat, a bit confused.

“No.”

Honestly, the primitive conversation between the two of you would be somewhat laughable if you didn’t feel frustrated beyond belief.

“Why?” you ask, becoming annoyed. Obviously, he knows something that you don’t.

The man blinks at you and shifts around nervously on his feet. His hands motion around as he tries to conjure up a sentence in English. “N… No. Closed?... Closed.” He nods, saying the word rather confidently.

Yes, you know the door is closed. But, why?

After a second, he sees that whatever he said evidently isn’t good enough, so he points back to the ATM, to the light that is now off due to no power, and then to the locks. You follow his pointing and the cogs in your brain start turning slowly.

“Fail-safe locks,” you state and then finally release the door handles.

“Fail… Fail-safe locks,” he repeats slowly. “Fail-safe locks.”

“Fail-safe locks?” you parrot his Korean back to him and he nods.

A small hum comes from your chest and you take a step back from the door finally. “How long do you think–” you cut yourself off when you look over at him. The man is staring at you, not following a word you’re saying.

Your hand comes up and you brush some wet hair off your forehead and then scratch the back of your head as a nervous tick. There’s no point in even asking the question, he won’t be able to understand anything you’re saying.

If you were in his shoes, you’d probably be a bit annoyed too. But at the same time, he’s already been kinder than most would be in this situation.

He’s locked in an ATM vestibule with someone who doesn’t speak the same language as him– in his own country. He’s been more than kind. Most people would just wave you off and forget trying to communicate at all.

But here he was, talking slowly and making sure you can understand what he’s saying. He’s going so far as to point around the room to make sure you understand.

The man notices you give up and he lets out a tiny sigh, turning to then peer out the glass doors at the streets of Seoul. There’s basically no one out there, everyone has taken shelter from the squall.

“We’ll have to wait until the police come to open the door.” He pats at his pockets, searching for his phone.

Even with how terrible your Korean is, you still pick up on a few words. “Police?” A beat. “Police?”

“Yes,” he answers in English, taking his phone out and tapping the screen a few times before holding it up to his ear. The man continues to look through the glass doors, watching all the different cars drive by, none of them police cars.

You decide to turn around, walking around the tiny room.

All of the lights are off except for the emergency lights. They cast a dull glow through the entirety of the vestibule. There's barely enough light to see from one side of the room to the other.

Rain starts hammering against the glass as the man speaks into his phone. “Yes, hi, hello. I am currently trapped with another woman inside the ATM vestibule of Metrobank Seoul… Namdaemunno… Yes, that one.”

Your ears perk up when he mentions the name of the bank and the address. Ah, he must have called the police. His face pulls into a slightly annoyed look, but he doesn’t speak with a hint of it through the phone, at least, not that you’re really able to tell.

The man says a few more words into the phone before he hangs up with a sigh. He runs a hand through his hair and then down his face in an exasperated fashion before turning to look at you. His mouth opens to say something, but he thinks better of it and he grimaces even more.

Your own features pull into a sympathetic expression and you look away, slightly embarrassed. Should you have learned more of the language before coming here? Absolutely. But at the same time, you didn’t have much time to prepare once you were told you had to travel here for business.

He shuffles from foot to foot and looks around, shoving his hands in his pockets and desperately trying to remember every English class he took in school.

“Police…” he says slowly, thinking through every word he wants to try and say. “Police are… busy.”

“Busy?”

“Yes. Busy. Busy with… car…” He brings both of his hands together and claps and then makes an explosion noise with his hands.

“A car accident?”

He snaps his fingers and points to you, as if you’re a team during a game of charades.

“Car accident,” he says in Korean.

“Car accident,” you repeat and he nods.

Despite the reality of the situation, you smile. The humor in all of this does not escape you. You decide to try and meet him halfway, even with your butchered pronunciation.

“Police… time… long?” Your head cocks to the side and you point to your watch. He shakes his head and shrugs in exaggerated movements.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes. The accident was that bad, huh? No wonder the power went out then, the car must have smashed into electrical lines after that loud clap of thunder. This probably means all of the traffic lights and such are out too.

The police are most likely directing traffic and making sure no one gets injured; two idiots stranded in an ATM vestibule are the least of their concerns. Honestly, you can’t be in a safer place. Well, unless this guy is a murderer, but you haven’t gotten a harsh vibe yet.

You sigh and lean against the wall near the corner across from the ATM. Your body slides down to the floor and you stare straight ahead. It seems like you’re going to be in here for a while then.

The man takes one last look outside the doors before walking in your direction. He leans against the adjacent wall and takes a seat on the floor with you. His shoes almost touch the side of yours. It’s at this time that you let yourself take a moment to really look at him.

He has to be around your age; older than a college graduate but younger than someone settled into their career. Something that definitely doesn’t escape your attention is how… pretty he is. His skin is near perfect and so is his hair. Everything, down to the clothes he’s wearing, is absolutely flawless– and he’s only in sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie!

Next to him, especially in your current drowned rat state, you probably look like something worse than a hot mess. You quickly comb your hair off your forehead once more and pull at your soaking wet clothes sticking to your skin.

The man’s lips purse for a moment and he opens his mouth as if to say something, then promptly stops, opting for a grumble of frustration.

After a moment, an idea flickers through your mind and you hold up one finger to him to say ‘one moment’. You reach down into your pocket for your phone and take it out, tapping at a few screens and bringing up the Translate app.

‘What’s your name?’ you type into the phone and it immediately translates it into Korean below it. You turn your phone around and hold it up to him.

The man looks at you, then your phone, and his eyes light up. If you’re not mistaken, you even see a little bit of relief flash over his features. A tiny smirk pulls at one corner of his lips before he looks back at you.

“Minho,” he answers and motions to you.

“Y/N,” you reply. “Nice to meet you, Minho.” You hold your hand out for a handshake.

Minho looks at your hand and his smirk gets wider before he grabs your hand and shakes it gently. The skin on his palm is so soft. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

After shaking his hand, you bring your phone back up to your face and type another sentence into the translate app.

‘I’m very sorry for not knowing Korean, I’m here on business.’

Minho looks at your phone, reading the statement before shaking his head and pulling out his own phone. He types away and then holds it up for you to read.

‘No need to apologize. With my line of work, my English should be better. It’s a very hard language to learn.’

A little laugh huffs from your nose and you nod and type.

‘Try learning Korean.’

Minho laughs with you and his smirk grows into a playful smile. Jesus Christ, this man is gorgeous. He looks down and taps a bit on his phone and then he holds it up to you. With the way his smirk pulls at his lips, it almost reminds you of a devious little cat.

‘I could tell you were a foreigner when you first came into the bank.’

Your eyebrow raises. “Oh, really?”

He’s chuckling when he brings his phone back to type more and then hold it up for you to read.

‘You don’t have an umbrella.’

Laughter leaves your lips when you read that and your head tilts back to rest against the wall. The wetness from your clothes is beginning to seep into your bones. Plus, the feeling of the fabric sticking to your skin is starting to become overstimulating.

But, you try and keep it together. You don’t really have another option at the moment.

You type a message back to Minho.

‘People tried to warn me about the Monsoon Season. As you can see, I didn’t listen.’

He reads your message and sucks his teeth with a smirk. Minho shakes his head and motions to the glass doors, as if to say ‘Look!’.

“I know, I know!” you laugh and look outside at the sheets of rain pouring from the sky. Puddles have turned into small ravines flowing down the sides of the road. Any car that passes by creates a huge splash as they pass through them.

Every once in a while, the sky will light up and thunder will follow it quickly.

Minho laughs with you. “Next time… you listen.” He nudges your leg with his foot.

You look over at him. “I will, trust me.”

A long look is shared between the two of you. There’s this tiny nagging feeling at the back of your mind, it’s that same feeling you get when you see someone in public that you swear you’ve seen before. Maybe he just has one of those faces?

No, you definitely haven’t met him before. You would remember if he was someone you shook hands with in the last few days. A man that gorgeous would never slip under your radar, you’re certain.

Minho stares back at you, eyes flitting about at your soaking wet hair matting to your skin. It looks like his one hand twitches for a moment and then he shifts in his seat.

Back to the app.

The two of you type away on your phones and hold them up at the same time with the exact same question on them.

‘What do you do for work?’

‘What do you do for work?’

Again, the two of you let out little huffs of laughter and he motions to you as if to tell you to go first.

So you do, you type down on your phone a little answer for him.

‘Right now, I’m only the assistant to a CEO for a huge company. Wherever he goes, I go. I write all his contracts; everything he does goes through me first. I’m more of an administrator than an assistant, though.’

Minho reads your answer carefully and then types out a small response with a tiny crease in between his brows.

‘Why do you say ‘right now’?’

A sad smile spreads on your face as you look down at your phone to type out a response.

‘I studied hard and have a Mathematics degree. But no matter where I apply, they say I don’t have enough experience. Back in America, the job market is absolutely horrible. So, I’m stuck.’

Minho’s eyes scan through your message and a frown pulls at his lips. He looks back up at you, meeting your eyes and then back to your phone before he begins to type his own message.

Your silent communication warms your heart a little bit. The glow from his phone lights up his features and you study him carefully. His teeth poke out from his top lip– it’s absolutely adorable.

He seems to think for a long moment before his thumbs fly over his screen.

Rain is coming down in sheets outside the door, it’s the only other sound inside the room besides the light clicking of the haptics on his phone.

You reach back and once more run your fingers through your hair– it seems to be drying now, but not in a good way. The humidity of the rain is apparent in the way it's starting to frizz up.

Minho turns his phone around after a moment of typing.

‘I’ve heard about how hard it is to get a job in America, I’m very sorry it’s so unfair. For what it’s worth, I think there’s nothing wrong with the job you have now. Hard work is hard work no matter if it's an assistant or a scientist.’

His words strike a chord within your heart, they tug at your chest and at the corner of your lips which twitch into a wistful smile on your face.

“Thank you,” you say to him in Korean, looking directly into his eyes. Minho smiles back at you when he hears it.

“You are welcome,” he answers in English.

His smile seems so warm for a stranger. He looks at you as if you’re an old friend, not like a woman, still soaking wet from the rain, sitting on the floor with him inside an ATM vestibule. He’s so genuine.

After a few seconds of just looking at him, you bring your phone up to type once more.

‘Your turn. What do you do?’

Minho stares at your phone for a long time, seemingly reading the sentence over and over again. His bottom lip pulls between his teeth and he seems to weigh something in his mind.

His brown eyes flick to yours, then back to the phone, then back to you again before he looks down at his phone.

You never realized how much just body language alone can convey.

He types slower, his thumbs not moving as quickly as before. Why does he seem so apprehensive?

Eventually, he turns the phone around.

‘I’m an idol.’

“Oh,” you say softly. Your shoulders shrug a bit and you cock your head to the side. “Like a K-pop idol?”

Minho nods in response. “Stray Kids.”

The name rings a bell, it’s just one you’ve heard floating around for a few months now. You think one of your friends is into them, but you can’t remember. She’s into so many different groups, it’s hard to keep track anymore.

You type in your phone.

‘I’ve heard the name before. Weren’t you guys at the MET Gala?’

With a breathy chuckle, he nods. A smile spreads across your face.

‘Wow, I’m trapped in a room with a celebrity then. You know, people write stories like this.’

Your joke definitely lands because he snorts a huff of laughter as you type on your phone a little bit more after that.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t take pictures and post them all over Twitter or anything. This will just be a funny story for me to tell my friends when I get back home to America.’

“Thank you,” Minho says softly with genuine gratitude in his voice. God, you can’t even imagine what it’s like being an idol. There probably wasn’t a single place he felt safe going to anymore. There are always cameras just waiting to take his picture.

‘When do you go back to America?’

‘In a few days. My boss loves to extend his business trips at the last minute. So, I could be here three more days or seven more days. It’s very hard to pack to come on these trips.’

A bittersweet expression settles on his handsome face.

You think for a long moment before typing away at your phone and showing it to him.

‘Have you ever been to New Jersey? That’s the state I’m from.’

Minho’s lips purse as he thinks for a long few moments. Very slowly, he nods, almost unsure. He types in his phone, then thinks for a moment, then types again.

‘I think we’ve been there twice. Is Newark in New Jersey?’

Excitedly, you nod. “Yes, that’s up in North Jersey!” You’re so excited that you forget to type down on your phone. “Oh!” you say with a laugh, looking back down at your phone.

‘Yes, that’s in the northern part of the state, about an hour or so from my hometown. I grew up in the central region, right on the beach. It only takes ten minutes to get to the beach from my house.’

Minho’s smile widens and he looks at you with a slightly envious look in his eyes. You giggle in response.

‘Two other members love the beach, but they’re from Australia.’

‘Australian beaches are probably not that different from American beaches. But I’ve never been to Australia. Have you?’

Minho nods and you see him close his translation app and switch over to his camera roll. His fingers quickly begin scrolling up through the countless amount of photos he has on his phone.

Not wanting to invade his privacy, you look away from his phone and out the doors in the vestibule once more. Not a single soul is walking– or running– along the sidewalks anymore.

Due to the power outage, there’s not even street lights illuminating in the puddles, it’s almost eerie looking. But, surprisingly, you don’t feel uneasy at all. Especially not with Minho sitting at your side.

Said man hums to get your attention, shuffling closer to you, and you look down at his phone. The picture is absolutely gorgeous.

It’s a photo of the beach, you’re assuming in Australia. The red sun is peeking above the horizon and painting the sky a beautiful wash of reds, pinks, and purples, all of the colors melting into one another. The clouds are wispy and glow in the morning sun.

The ocean seems so beautifully blue, even the foam at the crash of the waves is beautiful.

In front of the ocean is a gaggle of boys, it looks like there’s about seven of them. Each of them have bright, beautiful smiles on their faces reaching their eyes.

You’ve never been able to feel joy radiating from a photo like this, it seems to be contagious since you find a smile pulling at your own lips.

“This photo is beautiful,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of it.

Minho hums, maybe he understood what you said. His thumb moves and he scrolls to the next picture where two of the boys have taken one of the others by his legs and arms and seem to be pretending to toss him into the surf.

A soft giggle comes from your lips and you find yourself leaning towards him a bit to get a better look at the photo. Truly, you didn’t even notice your shoulders brushing against each other, and by his lack of reaction, it seems Minho didn’t either.

“Friends?” you ask him in your choppy Korean.

Minho looks over at you, his face closer to you than before. His eyes widen a bit at your proximity, but he doesn’t back up at all.

“Family,” he corrects you in his soft English.

An even warmer feeling spreads through your chest and you look back down at the photo. They must be his band members, but they just look so much closer than that. It reminds you of all of your friends back home.

Before you can even think twice, you’re opening your own camera roll, scrolling through an endless sea of memories before finding one specific morning you woke up to go watch the sunrise on the beach.

A tiny, awe-struck noise comes from Minho when he looks down at it.

“Sunrise,” you say and then think for a moment. You’re not sure of the Korean you want to say. “Favorite… time.”

He’s so patient when you speak, it absolutely melts your heart. There’s a different air about his softness with you too. He’s not treating you like a child just learning how to speak, no, he’s just being… nice. He’s being sweet and genuine and it speaks volumes about his character.

“Sunrise,” he says in Korean.

“Sunrise,” you repeat, looking up at him. His eyes were already trained on your face by the time you looked up. A tiny dusting of pink covers your cheeks. How long has he been looking at you?

A happy smile spreads over his lips, the edges curl up playfully. He nods. “Sunrise. Sunrise.”

“Sunrise.” Your voice says softly once more before looking back down at your phone.

Swiping through a few more pictures, you show him the boardwalk that runs down the beaches by your house. Everything from shops, to amusement park rides, to lemonade and ice cream stands litter the entirety of the shore.

He points down at the ferris wheel and shakes his head. “No,” he says simply.

“No?” you ask with a laugh. “Why not?”

“No… no high,” he shakes his head and motions his hands around to emphasize his point.

“Best picture,” you giggle holding your hand up in the air to emphasize the height aspect, then you’re swiping to the next picture taken from the top of the ferris wheel. This time, it was sunset. “Sunset.”

“Sunset.” A pause. “My… My… favorite time.”

A soft hum bubbles up in your throat. He loves sunset whereas you love sunrise. How cute.

“Sunset is beautiful,” you say slowly. Your eyes are still on your phone when you swipe to another photo.

“Beautiful,” Minho whispers softly.

Humming, you nod. “Yes, beautiful.”

A soft puff of air comes out of his nose and fans out over your cheek. When did he get this close? You look up at him and almost bump his nose with yours.

Minho’s head flinches back a bit at your sudden movement, but he makes no move to get further away from you.

He sighs softly, his eyes flitting all over your face, taking in every one of your features. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.

Your eyes widen, that pink blush making its way back to your face. You can’t even help the tiny, giddy giggle that bubbles in your throat. You look down shyly, biting your bottom lip.

Tender, gentle fingers lift your chin back up. Truly, you didn’t notice how cold your skin was until his warm touch spread on your skin.

Is this really happening?

A shiver races down your spine and a soft shudder comes out of your lips. Minho’s eyes look down at your lips and then down at your arm where goosebumps begin to raise.

He pulls away gently, making your brows furrow. Did you do something wrong? Maybe you misread his–

He’s shrugging off his hoodie.

Oh, he thinks you're cold.

Before you can even think to tell him you’re okay, he’s pulling your shoulder forward a bit so he can drape it over your back, bundling you up in such a pleasant, soft warmth. With small, fussy movements, he’s closing the hoodie around your body.

Perhaps you didn’t even notice how cold you were until you were suddenly surrounded in a warmth that can be compared to the fuzziest blanket you own. Not to mention the absolutely delightful scent that wafts upwards into your nose from the fabric.

It’s such a clean, cozy, calming scent. It’s like you buried your nose into the Mahogany Teakwood candle at Bath and Body Works.

Your eyes stay trained on his face while he bundles you up tightly. His hands gently grab your arms and rub up and down a few times to create even more warmth.

“Better,” he murmurs, finally looking up to meet your eyes.

How is it that a stranger has wormed himself into your heart like this? His tender gaze makes your soul feel calm, like those pictures of the morning surf under the sunrise.

“Thank you,” you whisper back to him. Your hands come up to grab at the hoodie, curling into the fabric.

Minho smiles back at you, you can see how his smile grows as he watches you relax into his clothing. There’s no space between your shoulders as you rest against adjacent walls, your two bodies have melted into the corner.

There’s a clap of thunder outside, but neither of you move. Your feet shuffle on the floor as you bring your knees closer to your chest. His legs adjust around yours, feeding them under your bent knees and tangling your limbs up further.

It’s so hard to break Minho’s eye contact, but you do it slowly, looking down at your phone and opening up the translate app once more. His soft breathing hits your cheek with every exhale.

‘You’re too nice to a stranger.’

Minho hums, almost in agreement. He picks up his phone and types back.

‘I’m usually not.’

You read the statement and then look at him, your head cocked to the side. Your brows furrow in confusion, but he types more before you can even ask another question.

‘I don’t know why I feel drawn to you.’

The text looks right back at you. Your heart flutters in your chest and you know that your cheeks get redder and redder by the second. Still, you can’t contain the giddy laugh that makes its way past your lips.

You bite the inside of your cheek to try and hide the smile, but it only makes Minho smile wider. His hand slowly comes up towards your cheek. Right before he’s able to make contact, he stops, hovering over your skin and gazing into your eyes.

A silent question is asked through his eyes. It’s a language that you don’t need any sort of app for. An answer is communicated right back.

Soft, tender warmth spreads over your cheek, radiating all throughout your body in the most gentle glow. His thumb caresses over your cheek bone, swiping gentle strokes back and forth.

You feel the same as him, that’s the strange part. There’s something so alluring about him that you just can’t put your finger on it. He’s pulling you in like a magnet and you don’t even want to fight against it.

There’s so many words sitting on the tip of your tongue, but you know that each and every one of them would fall on deaf ears. Nothing that you can say in the moment would make sense to him.

Exhales are shared and mingled together in the minimal space between your faces,

“Beautiful,” he whispers for your ears only. Not like there’s anyone else to hear it except the ATM sitting dormant in the corner of the vestibule. Not even the mice in the walls would have been able to hear his murmur.

Love at first sight was something you always gawked and scoffed at. You always thought that it was such a Hallmark invention, that there was no way you would be able to just look at someone once and immediately fall head over heels for them.

But here you were, sitting on a dirty floor, feeling your heart beating faster and faster in your chest. Letting your face be cradled by a man you didn’t know two hours ago. By the man who patiently worked with you to communicate.

How is this even possible?

You can count on one hand the amount of things you know about one another.

Minho, who is a famous idol in Korea, who loves sunset and hates heights, who has the most expressive brown eyes you’ve ever seen.

Minho, who did whatever he could just to talk to you when he could have just as easily sat in silence on the other side of the vestibule.

His hand slowly drags down your cheek, each finger gliding down your skin towards your jawline to lift under your chin.

Another silent question passes through both of you in the one language you seem to both be fluent in.

Your eyes flick down to his lips and he hears you loud and clear.

Minho leans in slowly, his lips brushing against yours in a featherlight touch. But, despite how soft the kiss is, heat spreads through your body in a grand wave, rushing through your fingertips and into your toes.

The first press is long and sweet, the two of you simply melting into the sensation of being locked together.

He pulls away only for a moment, his eyes gazing down at your lips before he swoops in again, this time his movements a bit quicker.

His hand returns to your cheek, guiding your head to tilt to the side to gain better access to your lips.

A soft sigh leaves your nose and your own hand travels up to grab at his shirt gently, just needing to hold onto him in any way possible.

Minho responds to your sigh, his lips moving a bit faster against yours. Both of your lips part and close, moving like mirror images of one another. Every few kisses, your noses brush against one another, but it doesn’t deter you from your actions at all.

Slowly, your hand travels from his shirt up to his neck, running up the side of his flushed skin. He feels feverish to the touch and it only spurs you on to keep moving. At the contact on his own body, Minho lets out a tiny grunt against your lips, his kisses stutter for a moment but he’s back to kissing you after just a moment.

Up, up, up, your hand travels over his moving jaw, to his cheek, then moving back to thread in his soft, brown trusses of hair. God, everything about him is just so perfect. It’s like you’re combing your fingers through the softest of cotton.

His kisses are getting deeper, little sighs come from both of your mouths as the passion continues on. Minho’s body turns towards yours a bit more, his knees canting up and almost forcing your legs onto his lap.

Tentatively, you feel his tongue poke out from between his lips, licking gently at your lower lip. You don’t even hesitate to give him access to your mouth. A gentle moan claws its way up your throat as his tongue licks into your mouth.

The hand on your cheek grips you a bit tighter, holding your face to his– as if you would want to try and move away from Minho and his addicting kisses.

“I just can’t help it,” he whispers in Korean against your spit, soaked lips before capturing them once more. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”

All you catch is your name and it sends a shiver down your spine. You don’t even need to know what else he said, his tone says it all. The way it comes out in a breathy exhale is enough to send your mind reeling.

“Please,” you murmur into his mouth before he presses his lips to yours once more with the same amount of passion and need in his actions.

More and more rain hits the glass doors, becoming the only sound that can be heard in the room except for your shared exhales, pants, and breathy moans.

Slowly, the kisses begin to calm down. Minho pulls away for a moment to take a long breath. His thumb moves to brush against your lower lip like a butterfly landing on a flower.

His eyes open just a crack, gazing down at your mouth with a hazy look in his eye. As he slowly catches his breath, he presses his forehead against yours, his fingers brushing along the heated skin on your face.

“Forgive me, I didn’t do things in order,” he whispers. “I should’ve taken you out first.”

Your eyes open and you look at him in confusion. “Hm?”

His jaw clenches before he swallows and he takes another long moment to look over your face, his features soft and welcoming.

There’s some movement as his other hand blindly pats around his lap for his phone. He can’t physically tear himself away from you long enough to even look down.

Another tiny laugh comes from your lips.

Your fingers move out of his hair to come around and gently run over his features, brushing against his jawline, to then trace up to his lips and up the length of his nose, memorizing each and every detail.

Minho melts into your touch, his face moving closer to your touch, seeking you out.

His hand finally finds his phone and he grabs it blindly, flipping it around in his lap and tearing his gaze away from your face to glance down at it.

Thumbs are flying across the screen to type at his translate app. He’s typing so quickly on his phone that you can't help but laugh a bit.

Before he’s able to turn the phone around, there are a few sharp knocks against the glass of the vestibule. The two of you practically jump out of your skin and your heads whip over to the doors.

Red and blue lights are flashing outside and it looks like two police officers are standing outside, peering in at you both. They wave when they see they’ve caught your attention.

Minho looks at the police officers, then to you, then back to the officers, and then back to you once more. His mouth opens and closes a few times and he tries to form a few words but you’re untangling your limbs from one another.

In a moment, you’re both on your feet as the officers work on unlocking the doors from the outside.

Minho gently grabs at your arm and you look down where he’s touching and your heart sinks a little. His eyes look a little questioning and desperate.

“Oh,” you say sadly. You shrug off his jacket, and hand it back to him. Minho’s eyebrows pull together and his lips part. He looks down at the jacket and then up at you.

“No,” he says firmly.

“Are you two alright?” The police officer calls inside in Korean.

“We’re okay,” Minho responds without breaking eye contact with you. He puts a hand on his jacket still dangling over your arm and pushes it back towards you.

“Minho?” you ask, looking at him and then at the officer approaching you both.

“We apologize for the delay, but we knew you two were safe, so we had to prioritize,” the officer says.

You blink at him blankly for a moment before then looking back at Minho.

“She’s a foreigner,” he says to the officer, finally looking away from you. “She doesn’t know Korean.”

“Ah,” the officer responds. “My apologies. You can tell her that she’s free to go.” He nods at the two of you and motions towards the door. You take his hint and slowly begin follow him.

Once again, Minho tugs on your arm and you pause, turning around to look at him. He’s holding his phone up to your face with a pleading look in his eye.

‘Can I please buy you a drink?’

A wide smile spreads across your cheeks and you can’t deny the relief that you feel inside your chest. The moment your lips twitch upwards, Minho immediately mirrors it.

“Yes,” you respond. “I love to go.”

He chuckles at your choppy Korean once more before taking his jacket out of your hands and wrapping you inside it once more. This time, he grabs the hood and pulls it up over your head.

With a satisfied hum, he nods and laces your fingers together.

“Come,” he says confidently.

“Lead way.”

can i PLEASE PLEASE be added to the taglist? 🎀

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MIKAELA’S! a cheeky chapter before things start getting actually juicy

SYNOPSIS! university golden boy sim jaeyun has a secret; it may seem as though he’s overtly focused on his studies, but he’s just using it as an excuse as to why he isn’t in a relationship. it’s not that he doesn’t want to, he just…can’t. in order to help jaeyun, his friends sign him up for hinge — an online dating app. pros? the ladies dig his profile. cons? jaeyun can’t seem to hold a conversation with the one girl he likes.

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MASTERLIST STARLET EXTRAS NEXT

note. bro so this was supposed to be uploaded yesterday but the links weren’t working and i got frustrated and gave up anyways i finally figured it out 🤘 also i’ve been watching south park 😭 (we <3 kenny)

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perm taglist. ★ @ddenoudepression ⋆ @/zuyairus ⋆ @/sunoksunny ⋆ @taejays ⋆ @hanniluvi ⋆ @haknom ⋆ @/trsrina ⋆ @tyunnie-gyuu ⋆ @ririlovesrenjun ⋆ @xiaoderrrr ⋆ @r-westillfriends ⋆ @placinggum10 ⋆ @gakrufbd ⋆ @nanabbg ⋆ @son4taa ⋆ @redm4ri ⋆ @strwberrydinosaur ⋆ @dreama-little-dreamof-me ⋆ @/lcv3lies ⋆ @aspaia ⋆ @schmocolateschmchip ⋆ @seungcheolswife

CHRISTENED TF OUTTA THAT HO

warning! vulgar language, suggestive

Eyes Off You

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a/n! cliffhanger!! see you guys on december 27th and keep an eye out for a VERY SPECIAL CHRISTMAS *WINK WINK* SURPRISE!𝜗𝜚

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LITTLE WOMAN X RIKI?!? OH YOUR MIND!!! to be loved so honestly <33

synopsis: riki knows you better than anyone else. includes: bridgerton au (barely), a little women reference, confessions of love, pre-marital kissing (the scandal!), gross old men, arranged marriage notes: @hoes4hoseok i hope you enjoy my timothee chalamification of riki, this one's for you girl🩷

there’s a thin line between love and friendship. your mother says she was friends with your father before she ever learned to love him, never in the way the poets rave, but in a way that made her life easier. in her words, “a love match is as rare as a diamond, dear. you shouldn’t hold out hope of one should it ruin your debut.”

it’s a shame, you think, that you can love someone so deeply and yet there’s no guarantee they’ll share the sentiment, nor a chance to see if what you feel is dwindling infatuation or true unyielding devotion. it’s improper to explore your options, greedy to want more than expected, and childish to yearn for love. yet you do.

your debut season approaches fast, and with it, the heavy promise of your hand to baron mortimer weighs your heart down like an anchor keeping you from daydreaming of the things you had read and researched about love.  he’s wealthy, titled, and twice your age. he would give your family a more comfortable life, save you from the shame of becoming a spinster if you do not find another suitable match your first season, and seems to be respectable enough despite his intent to marry you, a soon-to-be debutante he set his eyes upon years ago. it’s unnerving, but your mother speaks of him without disdain, so you keep your anxieties about his character at bay.

unfortunately, your dearest friend plagues your mind just so. riki’s return from oxford approaches with the same swiftness as your debut. you dread the idea of no longer having the liberty to write to him or paint him when he’s a willing muse, as it would be improper to do so while promised to another. for that reason you have yet to write to him since your last letter a week ago, where in it you bid him the gentlest farewell you could to help ease the ache in your heart.

you aren’t sure if he even received it, as he has not written back, but you suppose it’s for the best.

at least you believe that until he’s before you with unkempt hair and a haunted look in his tormented gaze. 

“tell me it is not true.” he says, chest rising and falling as if he had run from oxford to mayfair on foot, though perhaps he had been traveling by carriage since he received the letter clutched between his fingers. “tell me you are not marrying that man.”

you are unsure of how to respond, your lips parting hut no words leaving them. you turn toward your ladies maid, who blinks wildly as she receives the message, placing your hairpin down and hastening out of the room past the viscount’s son. the door clicks and yet his gaze remains unyielding, you finally speak, “you are back early, mr nishimura.”

riki had always been exceedingly easy to read, only to you, he used to pout. this moment is no different, and you can see how hard it is for him to wrap his head around his title leaving your lips instead of his name, but he recovers enough to repeat himself, “tell me.”

you place a hand on your stomach, squeezed by a corset that you suspect is why you can’t seem to catch your breath, “i will not lie to you.”

his brows furrow, his teeth peeking from his plump lips as they part in disgust and frustration, “he is old.”

“yes, i am aware of lord mortimer’s age.” you say with a similar frustration on your tongue that is heavily withheld by your propriety, “my mother saw it pertinent i educate myself before our marriage.”

“you cannot marry him.” riki says, and the frustration in your blood blooms into something more, something worse.

“that is not your decision to make.” you state, mindlessly flattening invisible wrinkles in your dress as he takes a step closer, only for you to fortify the distance with one of your own in the same direction, “not any more than it is mine.”

“you…” he loses his words as his hand clenches and releases at his side like he longs to reach for you, “you do not want this.”

“what i want does not matter to my parents anymore than it should to you,” you state, attempting to tuck the loose strand of hair that your ladies maid hadn’t the time to fit into your updo behind your ear, only for it to fall right back into place against your cheekbone, “lord mortimer is wealthy, he will give me a comfortable life.”

“do you not deserve a happy one?” riki asks, and you feel the cracks in your chest widen. instinctively, you fight the tremble of your chin and the tug in your brow as tears attempt to fit through the open crevice of your act.

“no, don’t—“ you shake your eyes, turning away from him as your arms drop to your sides, “don’t do that. i have accepted my future, i do not need you planting doubts in my mind.”

“what use would planting them do when i can see they’ve already taken root far before i arrived here?” you overlook the step he takes, nor how large his stride is. he only takes one yet it makes all the difference, as he feels infinitely closer than before. just as you feared he would.

“stop it.” you say, masked inside a heavy exhale, yet a plea all the same. “you should be visiting with your sisters, i’m sure they missed you dearly—“

“don’t marry him.” he says, and you finally look at him.

“what?” you ask despite knowing exactly what he said, you want to hear him say it again to make sure it wasn’t in your head.

he shakes his head, taking another step closer, “don’t marry him.”

“you…” he doesn't have to explain what he means, your childish hopes of love that you’d hidden so deep in your conscience do so for him. your heart sings as his eyes flick between your own and then down the bridge of your nose and lower, but your mind refuses to bend as your heart does. you shake your head, shuffling back to salvage whatever distance you can, “no.”

“yes.” he responds in kind, dropping the letter and closing the distance between the two of you to grab your hands. his next words are paired with the act of him flattening your palm against his chest, keeping it there while he grasps the other in his much larger hand, “you can’t marry him.”

“you are being cruel.” you try to pull away, but his grip is firm and you know that if you meet his gaze you won’t be able to fight it anymore.

there’s a sickening silence as his thumb draws shapes on the back of your hand, you can feel his heartbeat. it’s strong, and its pace only feeds your own heart wanton promises of devotion you had only ever been told were too rare to expect in your lifetime, “tell me you do not want me.”

the suddenness of his demand lowers your guard for just long enough for your heart to find the upper ground and force your eyes into his sights, he repeats himself, “tell me you do not want me and i will leave you to marry lord mortimer.” his words are punctuated by the hand not holding yours to his heart grasping the side of your jaw, his thumb moving against your warmed cheek, “tell me and i will never speak to you again, just as you requested in your letter. you will never have to see me and i won’t—“

“i don’t want that.” the words leave your lips without warning, but it’s too late to take them back by the time they reach his ears. you shake your head, “i don’t—i don’t want to marry, i want to paint and read and—“

he listens as your supposed acceptance crumbles beneath his gaze, chest heaving under your palm. “—i want to do all of those things with you, i do. the baron has my parents under his wretched thumb and i cannot bear it, i cannot—“ a sharp inhale rakes your body, a mix of a sob and a desperate but fruitless attempt to regain composure, “i don’t want you to go away, i want you to stay here with me and—“

his lips meet yours with a firmness that sets your heart aflame, and when he pulls away just enough to look at you your heart finally lands the finishing blow in its fight against your mind. your hand lingers on his chest as the one he uses to keep it there moves to mirror its counterpart on the other side of your jaw.

you barely glance down at his lips before they’re on yours again, a welcome experience that you hope you can experience over and over until you’re utterly familiar, but now you're not sure how to reciprocate. the novels you’ve read did little to educate you on the experience, much less prepare you for it to occur with the boy you’d found yourself longing for through the years. 

the gasp you let out when his hand moves from your jaw to your waist to tug you closer is silenced by his lips attaching themselves to yours like he’d spent a lifetime wishing to taste you.

he pulls away, yet he doesn't seem keen on keeping the distance, his nose brushing yours as he promises, “i will speak to your parents—”

the mention of them has your guts turning painfully enough to rip you away from him, nausea hitting you like a bullet through your throat, “i should not have done that.”

“i kissed you—“ his statement does little to quell your sickness, and the wavering grate in your voice as you interrupt him is telling of that. “that changes nothing.” your fingers move to your hair, the pin keeping it in place falling to the floor as you tug, “i am ruined. forget marrying the baron, i cannot marry anyone.”

“was i not clear?” he asks, and when you look at him with frustrated reluctance he continues, “should i gut myself? place my heart in your hands to have you understand how you haunt me?”

“we cannot marry.” you say, bottom lip trembling, “i will not be a consequence of your actions. it is not your duty to marry me when i am the only one ruined.”

riki’s jaw shifts as if your words brought him only fury, “i do not care for duty, i care for you.” 

“you are young, riki. you are not expected to marry for at least—“

“i want to.” he states firmly, “you said you wanted me to stay, so i am staying. i will dance with you at balls. i will send flowers and call on you every morning. i will promenade alongside you for as long as it takes. i…”

he moves towards you, thumbs brushing away the tears under your eyes as his forehead meets yours, “i am yours, do with me what you will.”

©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.

---

BRO WAS MADE FOR FRIENDS TO LOVERS SLOW BURN

comfort

pairing bestfriend!riki x gn!reader genre fluff! childhood friends to lovers warnings light swearing, they kiss, very very slight angst when reader talks about insecurities

word count 2.9k

a/n: this is my first fic ever so it's not that good and idk what i'm doing LOL i didn't proofread so sorry if there are any mistakes! do lmk if you spot any >< i hope this isnt too bad for a fanfic debut TT

you checked your phone to look at the time as you waited for your best friend to come over. after getting cancelled on by a boy from your school, you had texted riki to keep you company. you were disappointed that you wouldn't get to go on the fun date you were anticipating and pretty sad about it.

just then, the doorbell rang, shaking you from your train of thoughts.

"y/n!! i hope you're dressed to go out!!"

you heard riki's muffled voice from behind the door. furrowing your brows in confusion, you grabbed your sweater that was slung on the back of your chair before rushing to open the door for him. before you could even greet him, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a hug. you giggled at his sudden action and ignored the slight fluttering of butterflies in your stomach.

"hi foo yoo too riki. waf fis about??"

you tried to ask as your face was squished against his chest. pulling away from you to see your face, riki looked down at you and ruffled your hair. huffing in annoyance, you reached your hands up to fix your hair.

"it's a surprise" he grinned cheekily and took a hold of your hand to guide you towards his bicycle.

"hold this for me please"

with that, he shoved a heavy backpack into your arms.

"well, it's not like you gave me a choice you little shit"

all he did was laugh and shove you onto his bicycle. after you were both seated comfortably, you wrapped your arms around his waist, bag securely on your lap in between you and riki.

"off we go!" he exclaimed childishly and started peddling. you weren't really expecting to go out tonight as you thought riki would just come over to keep you company while you watched a movie. however, you couldn't say you weren't pleased by the sudden unexpected turn of events.

riki picked up speed as you got to a more open road and you felt the wind blow through your hair. you shut your eyes and hugged riki a little tighter as you enjoyed the cool evening breeze.

taking advantage of your eyes being closed, riki briefly turned around and lifted one hand off the handle to flick your forehead.

"OUCH what the hell bitch!"

"huh? what?"

"why do you pull this shit even when you're cycling you're insufferable."

"i don't know what you're talking about! i'm a safe cyclist you know! both hands on the handle at all times of course. must have been a leaf or something man."

you rolled your eyes and glared at him as he proudly showed you that he could cycle without his hands on the handle. way to prove your innocence riki.

"look what i can do y/n!"

he beamed as he put both hands up in the air. he did this every single time he brought you on a cycling trip. despite this, you couldn't help but grin at his antics.

"focus on the road i don't feel like dying today." you smacked him on the head with a playful stern expression on your face.

"we're already here!"

he suddenly jammed the brakes causing your face to get squashed against his back.

"you bitch!"

you glared and him and he just shook his head and laughed mischievously. you hate to admit it but his laugh made your heart skip a beat. getting off the bicycle, he took the backpack from you and held out his hand to help you get off. you took his hand and hopped off safely and finally looked around to see where you were. he had brought you to the neighbourhood park.

"what exactly are we doing here?"

you looked up at him for an explanation but he just shot you his boxy smile and started guiding you towards the hill at the end of the park. with both hands on your shoulders, he led you to face the tree that was on top of the hill.

"close your eyes."

"why?"

"just do it."

"what if i don't want to?"

"i'll push you down the hill."

with that he actually started to shove you down the hill and you were quick to agree to shutting your eyes. when riki was determined to cause mischief he wouldn't hesitate. admitting defeat, you went back to face the tree and closed your eyes. you wondered what he was doing and was also kind of scared that he'd pull a prank on you and scare you or something. it wouldn't be very out of character for him.

your mind went to when both of you first met...

on the first day of kindergarten you had dozed off during arts and crafts. a certain someone who was seated next to you eyed a pair of scissors that were lying on the table due to the teachers negligence. with a cheeky grin he picked them up and

snip!

you woke up to the sound of evil giggles and the sound of beads scattering onto the floor. upon realising that your favourite bracelet had been snipped apart your jaw dropped in shock as you turned towards the culprit.

it took you 3 seconds to burst out into tears and you saw the evildoer's face fall when he realised you were really upset.

"I'M SO SORRY I CAN MAKE YOU A NEW ONE"

he immediately started apologising profusely, guilt and regret apparent on his face. he begged for your forgiveness but you were too upset. how could he cut your favourite bracelet!

"i'll get you ice cream? please don't cry i shouldn't have done that i'm so sorry"

your crying stopped at that as you looked into his eyes and saw that he was genuinely sorry.

"fine. but you're not forgiven. you owe me a bracelet mister." you conceded and decided it was just a beaded bracelet. free ice cream sounded way better.

his shoulders dropped as he sighed in relief.

"i think we got off to a bad start. my name is riki" he held out his hand and looked at you hopefully.

"y/n." you took his hand and shook it once.

ever since that day you were both inseparable and that never changed even as you both grew up and matured. the only thing that changed was how your feelings for him turned from friendly to romantic. ever since you understood the concept of dating, you knew riki was the one for you. but you were too afraid of ruining the friendship to say anything. you were content with having him as a best friend.

a loud clang brought you back to reality.

"nishimura what the hell are you doing?"

"every thing is under control DON'T TURN AROUND!" he replied insistently.

getting curious and impatient, you started to tap your foot on the grass.

"you're so impatient y/n. will it kill you to wait for 2 minutes?"

"i could be at home sleeping right now."

"don't lie to me. you would've been sitting on your bed moping about your loss of a good date."

"not true!"

"then why did you text me?"

riki had a point. you huffed for the millionth time that night and he chuckled at your feigned annoyance.

you flin hed slightly as you felt him touch your shoulder, not hearing him finish whatever he was doing.

"ok you can open your eyes now."

you opened your eyes to be greeted by tree bark.

"turn around you idiot." riki rolled his eyes and turned you around to face him.

"surprise!"

a few metres behind him was a picnic mat with snacks on it and pillows and blankets. your jaw dropped slightly as you took in the sight in front of you. you looked up at riki whose eyebrows were raised with a hopeful smile. squealing out an "i love this!" you hugged him tightly to thank him and rushed to sit down and see what food he had brought.

riki watched you quietly with a gentle smile on his face before walking over to join you on the picnic mat he had set up. he was happy that he managed to lift your spirits and put such a happy expression on your face.

"oo didn'tff haf to do thif" you looked at him while your mouth was stuffed with a sandwich. your cheeks were puffed out and your lips were drawn into a pout. he thought you were adorable like this.

"it was nothing. i'm always here to cheer you up y/n" he shrugged and picked up a sandwich for himself.

you grabbed your phone from your pocket to play some music, putting yours and riki's shared playlist on shuffle. you checked the time, it was 10:00pm.

you sighed as you finished your sandwich and leaned back to lie down on the pillows riki had placed on the mat.

"you can let it out, it's just me. i know you're probably more sad than you're trying to let on." riki looked at you as if he could see right through you. you frowned and furrowed your eyebrows. "how did you know?"

"we've known each other for long enough come on."

riki was right. you decided to tell him about how you were sad about the missed opportunity and how you were wondering if it was because of you. were you not interesting enough? or pretty enough?

"nonsense y/n. you're such a girlboss queen slay"

he playfully grinned as u smacked his chest. he had moved positions to lie down facing you.

"bitch i'm never sharing my feelings with you again" you half-heartedly shoved him and turned your head to look away from him.

"i'm kidding! look at me please" he placed a hand on your cheek to turn your head to face him. you felt heat rise to your cheeks and you hoped that it was dark enough to conceal them.

"you're perfect just the way you are y/n. you're beautiful and kind and definitely very interesting to me. you shouldn't doubt yourself just because of some average boy." riki comforted and reassured you. he hoped you couldn't see the pink tinting his cheeks. was that too much? can she tell how i feel? he hoped you couldn't.

the blush on your face deepened upon hearing his words.

"you really think so? thanks riki... you always know what to say"

you genuinely believed you had the best friend in the world. riki always treated you well, being there for you when you needed him, knowing exactly what you needed at any point of time. you were his number one priority as he was yours. everything about him was perfect aside from his prankster tendencies and his way of bullying and teasing you. but you'd be lying if you said you didn't find those endearing either.

"hey! earth to y/n! lost you for a second there" he annoyingly jabbed at your side to get your attention.

"way to ruin the moment you bitch" you glared at him playfully. he cheekily smiled back at you with the grin that sent your heart racing.

clearing your throat, you averted your eyes from him, rolling over to look at the sky. if you stared at his face any longer you thought you might combust.

"the night sky is so pretty! the stars are shining so brightly. thanks for bringing me here the view is breathtaking" you smiled as you took in the sky above you.

"yeah, sure is" riki replied, head turned to look at you.

he couldn't remember when he decided that you were the one. he didn't know it back then but in kindergarten he was drawn to you for some reason. even as you slept in that arts and crafts class with drool tricking down your chin he knew he wanted to be friends with you. he didn't know how to approach you so he did what his (unhelpful) brain came up with to get your attention. after cutting your bracelet he immediately regretted it, seeing you bawl your eyes out over it.

ever since then, you had been a constant in his life. he was a great friend to you but so were you to him. you stayed up late during the wee hours of the night to facetime him when he wanted to talk or rant. you had stuck by his side ever since the 2 of you became friends. you always helped him out with his work when he was struggling even though you had things to do. and most of all he loved you. he saw you as the prettiest and most beautiful person in the world and no one could compare to you. he thought you were the kindest and sweetest too and he loved everything about you.

"hey this is our favourite song!" you exclaimed as you started singing along. riki immediately jolted out of his thoughts and turned to the sky before you could catch him staring at you.

he closed his eyes as he listening to your voice. another thing he loved about you.

you turned to look at him, noticing his silence for the past few minutes. you quietly inched closer to him when you realised his eyes were shut. before you could flick his forehead as payback for earlier, he opened his eyes, sensing your presence. he visibly flinched as he realised your proximity and you pouted as he restrained your hand from flicking him.

"boo!!" you huffed at the missed opportunity to get revenge on him.

riki looked at you as your face hovered directly above him. he could feel your breath on his cheek and the whole world stopped around you. he could no longer hear the music you were previously singing to and its like his surroundings were blurred. before he could think it through he tugged at your arm firmly, causing you to fall onto him as he wrapped his arms around you.

your eyes widened as you gasped at the sudden movement and your heart started racing when you realised how the 2 of you were positioned. you were speechless and before you could say anything riki beat you to it.

"y/n... i think i have to get this out now. i never wanted to ruin our friendship but i can't stand seeing you be sad about guys any longer when i know i can treat you the way you should be treated so i'm just going to say it" he took a deep breath before finally confessing.

"i like you l/n y/n"

your mouth parted in shock. you weren't expecting that. you didn't even think he liked you romantically or that he would even reciprocate your feelings. you brain was trying to process what he just said.

riki gulped nervously at your expression and your silence before shifting so that you could get off his chest. he was starting to regret what he did and he feared he made you uncomfortable and that he may have just lost his life-long friend.

realising you hadn't said anything yet, you hugged him in a panic as you felt him pushing you off. your face came into contact with his chest once again.

"i like yoo foo riki don't vee an idiot" you squeezed him tighter as your face was squished against him again.

riki felt a sense of relief wash over him as he immediately shot up from his position, causing your head to land on the mat with a thud.

"say that again? y/n are you being for real? no cap? fax no printer?" he looked back at you with wide eyes.

"riki what the hell that hurt. and please never say those words again. you sound like a degenerate" you glared at him as you rubbed your head which had just taken a blow from the ground.

his hand rushed to your head and rubbed it in hopes of making it feel better before he asked you again, "are you serious? you like me too?"

your lips curved upwards at his natural instincts to soothe your pain and instead of giving him a verbal response, you lifted yourself upwards to give him a peck on the lips.

you felt riki freeze and you watched as his eyes widened and a violent blush crept up his neck to his cheeks. you felt your face heat up as you realised what you had just done. feeling embarrassed and flustered, you pulled him down to hug him and shoved your face into the crook of his neck. he started shaking with laughter and joy as he rolled the 2 of you over so that you were on top of him instead of on the ground.

"y/n~~ look at me please!! c'monn" he whined as you refused to face him, still embarrassed but what you just pulled. he forced your head out of his shoulders to shower your whole face with kisses.

he pecked your nose then your cheeks then your forehead followed by your lips until you were giggling. you felt so loved.

"be my girlfriend."

"i think you're supposed to ask and not demand. what if i don't want to" you raised an eyebrow at him jokingly with a smug look on your face.

he rolled his eyes and kissed you on the lips again. this time for longer. you felt yourself melt into his hold as you reciprocated. both of you felt warmth running through your bodies and butterflies fluttering in your stomachs. he finally pulled away as you ran out of breath.

"still don't wanna be mine?" he smirked at you as you tried to catch your breath. you looked gorgeous with red tinting your cheeks and your eyes sparkling, looking right back at his.

"i've always been yours, you just needed to ask"

---

Crossroads Romance | p.hs 🩰

pairing: park sunghoon x reader 𐙚🧸ྀི

wc: 19.7k

synopsis: after disappearing for two years, Sunghoon finally comes back as stunning as ever. Rumour has it he has a new girlfriend?

warning: not proof read! p in v, oral f receive, kissing, skin-ship, a bit of reader x heeseung, sexting, masturbating, makeup s.x, angst, smut, degrading, praising, sunghoon being just too perfect

mdni.

During the first two years of university, you had an amazing time. You became very popular, never missed a class, and received daily confessions from boys. Safe to say you were the making campus’ “it” girl.

While your friends were busy dating and having relationships, you were focused on your studies. You didn’t have time for romantic entanglements when you were determined to graduate at the top of your class.

After your boyfriend disappeared without a trace, you stopped believing in love. Even so, you still hold onto a faint hope that someday he will come back for you. In your dreams, you always imagine the day he returns.

Your friends encouraged you to move on and meet someone new, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Every time you saw a happy couple on campus, your thoughts would drift back to him.

Although you have gone on a few dates with attractive men, none have made an impression on you as deeply as Sunghoon once did.

Your heart longed for the connection you had shared with Sunghoon, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that nobody else could fill the void he left behind.

While you were absorbed in your thoughts, a commotion erupted nearby. A group of students had formed a circle around something, blocking your view. Curiosity gnawed at you, and you inched closer to see what was happening.

As you weaved through the curious onlookers, you caught a glimpse of something that took your breath away. Standing in the center of the crowd was none other than Sunghoon.

"I can't believe he's back," one student whispered, their eyes wide with shock.

"Yeah, he had a glow up definitely," another chimed in, their voice tinged with awe.

The murmurs around you grew louder as people discussed his unexpected return. Some whispered about how he had vanished without a trace, while others commented on how good he looked. One thing was unanimous: everyone seemed to be talking about him.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him from afar. He looked even more captivating than you remembered, and the memories of your past relationship flooded back at full force.

You frantically pushed through the crowd, approaching Sunghoon, whose towering frame loomed over you. To your relief, he appeared surprised to see you.

His eyes widened in surprise when he caught sight of you. A range of emotions flickered across his face, including realization and a hint of guilt. For a brief moment, he hesitated, unsure of how to react.

“y/n?” he finally spoke, his voice laced with a mix of surprise and uncertainty. The sound of his deep, familiar voice stirred up a whirlwind of memories inside of you. It was as if no time had passed at all.

You gazed at him, your mind struggling to process whether he truly stood before you or if it was merely a dream. After a moment, you stuttered a response, "Y-yeah, that's me." Despite the changes over the past two years, you also experienced a significant transformation, enhancing your appearance.

His eyes scanned over you as if seeing you for the first time. His gaze lingered for a moment before his stoic expression softened into a faint smile. He didn’t say anything else, but his eyes seemed to study every detail of your new appearance.

As the moments passed, the murmurs and whispers surrounding you grew louder. The students who had formed the tight circle around Sunghoon were chattering amongst themselves, their voices filling the air. “I can’t believe he’s back,” one student whispered to their friend, their tone tinged with awe.

“What’s y/n doing with him,” another chimed in, their voice tinged with admiration.

Students around you exchanged looks. “I swear, they were practically inseparable back then. Do you think they’re still together?” one student whispered a little louder than intended, causing your ears to perk up.

You impulsively raised your hand, poking his shoulder without thinking. Realizing your action, you swiftly drew your hand back, blushing slightly in embarrassment. “S-sorry..” you muttered, looking away from him. You knew that this time, you weren’t dreaming.

Your sudden poke caused him to flinch, his gaze shifting to you. A brief flash of confusion flickered in his eyes before he replied, “No, it’s fine.” He seemed just as flustered as you were, his usually composed demeanor slipping for a moment.

Among the sea of murmurs and speculation, a bold voice rose above the rest. "Hey, are they still together?" a boy called out from the crowd, his comment drawing everyone's attention.

Sunghoon's eyes darted towards the source of the voice, a flicker of annoyance evident in his gaze. He remained silent, clearly not appreciative of the question being asked in front of others. He was usually more of the shy type, so he waited for you to talk.

You stammered slightly, replying, "I-I don’t... no, I don’t think so." Your words were softly spoken, your voice betraying a hint of uncertainty mixed with a touch of hesitation.

Your response seemed to catch him off guard, a slight furrow appearing on his brow. His expression mirrored the same uncertainty you were trying to convey. The onlookers around them seemed to shift their gazes between the two of you, anticipation hanging in the air.

It was clear that everyone around you was eagerly awaiting some sort of confirmation, hoping to get clarity on the current status of your relationship. Despite the pressure of the moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching out in the air.

As the silence dragged on, the murmurs in the crowd began to die down. One by one, the onlookers slowly dispersed, realizing there was no satisfying answer to their questions. The tension in the air eased ever so slightly as the curious eyes around you moved on to other matters.

The crowd gradually thinned out, leaving you and Sunghoon standing there, facing each other. The initial shock had worn off, replaced by a palpable awkwardness that hung heavy between you.

"So...," you began, your voice quivering with disbelief, still grappling with the reality of the situation. "Where have you been...?" Your voice shook as you voiced the question that had been burning in your mind since his disappearance.

A wave of guilt washed over his face, his eyes averting your gaze. He looked away as he answered, a tinge of shame in his voice, "I was... I was away, y/n."

His response was short, almost dismissive. It was clear that he didn't want to delve deeper into the subject.

Your tone shifted from disbelief to frustration, and you scoffed. "Well it’s pretty obvious you went away," you retorted, the words slipping out more forcefully than intended. "Why and where on earth did you vanish, Sunghoon? I was genuinely worried sick…" Your irritation and concern were evident as you spoke, emphasizing the gravity of his absence and the impact it had on you.

Sunghoon clenched his jaw, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. His mind worked furiously, searching for a way to navigate this situation without revealing too much.

"I just... needed some space," he muttered under his breath, attempting to dismiss your concern with a half-answer.

Frustration bubbled up inside you, and you retorted sternly, "Some space? That's all you have to say after disappearing without a word for two year? You just needed space? You didn’t even bother to text me!”

The words stung as they left your mouth. You hadn't meant to be so blunt, but your pent-up frustration and lingering hurt had overwhelmed you.

He stared at you with a mixture of guilt and resignation, seemingly aware of the pain he had caused you.

Just as your heated exchange reached its peak, the sound of the bell broke through the atmosphere like a sharp alarm, signaling the end of break time. The shrill noise cut through the tension, reminding everyone of their impending classes.

Students around you began to scatter, hastening to their classes. They cast final lingering glances at you and Sunghoon before disappearing into various directions. The once lively spot emptied, leaving only the two of you behind.

As the last of the students hurried away, Sunghoon took advantage of the distraction. "I have class," he mumbled quickly, gesturing vaguely behind him. He was eager to escape the tense situation, and seizing the opportunity afforded by the bell ringing, he began to back away from you.

"Wait, Sunghoon—" you started, reaching out to grab his arm, but his pace had already quickened, and your fingers barely grazed his sleeve before he was out of reach.

—

You waited near the school gate, your eyes continuously scanning the crowded campus for any sign of him. Frustration gnawed at you as the clock ticked away, knowing that he had actively avoided you all day.

You released a weary sigh as you approached the table occupied by your popular “friends” and collapsed onto the seat beside Kazuha. She glanced at you and remarked with a teasing tone, "You look like you just crawled back from hell." Looking up, you saw her taking a bite out of her granola bar. "What's the matter?"

You groaned in response, feeling the exhaustion seeping into your bones. "Sunghoon’s back after disappearing on everyone for two years," you muttered, slumping in your seat. It had been a long day filled with frustration and disappointment, and the last thing you wanted to deal with was Kazuha's playful teasing.

Another girl, Chaewon, joined in the conversation and added, "I heard he's like, super hot now." Her comment carried a hint of curiosity and intrigue, implying that Sunghoon's appearance had undergone changes that had caught their attention.

The news of Sunghoon’s appearance change didn’t surprise you. After all, two years had passed since he vanished, and it made sense that he would have grown and matured during that time. Nevertheless, a pang of jealousy flared within you as your friends continued discussing his newfound attractiveness.

Kazuha's words hung in the air as she asked, "Wait, so you two aren't together anymore, right?" You shook your head in confirmation, signaling the end of your relationship with Sunghoon. "Okay, good because me and Kazuha were walking around the field earlier in the day, and it low-key seemed like he was making out with someone. It was like, very intense," Chaewon stated, her words laced with both concern and scandalized fascination.

Their revelation hit you like a wave of disappointment and confusion. It stung to hear that Sunghoon was involved with someone else so soon after his return.

The image of him making out with another girl haunted your mind, stirring up a mix of jealousy and sadness within you.

"He… He was making out with someone…?" you repeated, the words escaping your lips in a hushed whisper.

Both girls nodded their heads delicately, signaling their agreement and empathy. There was a hint of concern in Kazuha's voice as she remarked, "Kinda feel bad for you though. We know you loved him a lot." Their words carried a tinge of compassion, acknowledging your deep feelings for him.

Their understanding words seemed to offer little solace in the face of this new information. Even so, you appreciated their concern.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you tried to push past the emotional pain. "It’s fine," you murmured, attempting to hide the hurt behind a brave facade. "It’s been two years since we broke up. I’ve moved on."

Chaewon, however, expressed her disbelief with a scoff. She shook her head at the notion of you moving on and declared, "You? Moved on? Impossible!"

Her dismissive tone struck a nerve, making you bristle with annoyance. It was true that moving on was not something you had accomplished easily, but you didn’t appreciate your friend calling it impossible.

"I swear, you might as well still be together," she insisted, her words like a sharp poke to your sensitive nerve. "You don't just ‘move on’ from someone you fell in love with so quickly. It's been two years, but you still can't bring yourself to date anyone new."

A mixture of curiosity and jealousy coursed through your veins. Despite the pang of heartache, you couldn’t help but feel compelled to ask.

You turned to your friends and inquired, with a touch of hesitation, "Did that girl he was making out with... was she, you know, pretty?"

“Uh, I mean I guess she is,” Chaewon said, her tone full of sass. “But you’re definitely prettier.”

Kazuha hummed and nods her head in agreement. “And if he lost feelings for you, his loss.”

Their words were meant to be comforting, but they only deepened your sense of inadequacy. It felt like a painful reminder that despite how much you still cared for him, he had chosen someone else.

Their encouragement didn’t have the desired effect. Instead, it left you feeling more wounded and vulnerable.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips, and you sank further into your seat.

"Yeah, it’s his loss," you echoed, mustering a weak smile in response to their attempt to uplift you. But deep inside, the knowledge that he had moved on with another girl still stung like a fresh wound.

“Just guys being guys you know,” Chaewon scoffed, probably thinking back of an old ex of hers.

You knew all too well the nature of guys and their tendencies. Despite your past relationship with Sunghoon, the idea of him quickly moving on with someone else stung.

"Yeah, guys being guys," you murmured, trying to keep the bitterness out of your tone.

Days passed, and you tried to keep yourself occupied with classes, studying, and hanging out with your friends. However, no amount of distractions could erase the lingering thoughts of Sunghoon and the mysterious girl he had been making out with. The mystery girl was now always on your mind, and the thought of her ignited a fire of jealousy deep within you.

The days dragged on, each passing moment only intensifying your curiosity and resentment. You found yourself constantly picturing the girl in your mind, wondering what she looked like, what her laughter sounded like, and what qualities had drawn him towards her.

As the days progressed, your interactions with Sunghoon remained awkward and fleeting. Despite being in the same popular crowd, your paths seldom crossed. However, whenever your eyes did meet across the room or hallway, the tension in the air was tangible.

Despite your best efforts, it felt impossible to escape him. You found yourself constantly surrounded by reminders of him. In conversations with your friends, in whispers in the hallways, and even in the occasional glimpse of him in passing, it felt like he was always there, always invading your thoughts.

One day, Kazuha and Chaewon approached you as you organized your belongings in your locker. With a curious tone, Chaewon inquired, "You coming to the winter dance?" Her question invited your participation in the upcoming event.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind instantly going to the thought of Sunghoon being there. Despite your desire to avoid him, you couldn't deny that you were usually the center of attention at such events because of your popularity.

"I don't know," you replied, still contemplating whether to attend or not.

Kazuha continued in a pleading tone, "Come onnnnn," emphasizing her desire for your presence. She added, "I bet that mysterious girl Sunghoon made out with will be there. Or you can confront him right there and then!" Her words implied intrigue and the potential for confrontation or resolution at the upcoming dance.

The idea of confronting him and finding out more about his mysterious girl was tempting. Your curiosity continued to gnaw at you.

"I guess so..." you finally agreed, though your mind was still swirling with unresolved emotions and questions.

Their faces both lit up, indicating their satisfaction with your decision. Kazuha gave you a reassuring pat on the back, "Atta girl." Chaewon smirked, her eyes gleaming with anticipation for the drama that might unfold.

Kazuha raised a brow and inquired, "You have someone to go with though, right?" Her question confirmed your companion for the dance, expressing curiosity about your plans and the company you intended to keep.

The mention of a partner made you realize that you hadn’t considering bringing a date with you. Your mind began racing, contemplating who you could potentially bring.

"Uh, no... not yet," you admitted, somewhat embarrassed by your lack of plans in that regard.

Kazuha hummed at your answer at she looked like she was deep in her thoughts. “Okay well if Sunghoon potentially has a new girlfriend, you’re going to need a ‘boyfriend’ as well to make it equal to seek like you’re not still into him..”

A slight blush tinged your cheeks as you considered the idea of finding a “boyfriend” to even the playing field. The thought of pretending to be in a relationship with someone just to compete with Sunghoon was a bit embarrassing.

"I don’t know, it feels a bit… not authentic, you know?" you retorted, though there was a hint of curiosity in your tone.

“Okay..” Kazuha reponded. “Well you don’t need to *have* a boyfriend, you just need to make it seem like you do.. maybe like a pretend?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in thought, considering Kazuha’s suggestion. The idea of pretending to have a boyfriend for appearance sake was both intriguing and somewhat amusing.

"How exactly would that work?" you asked, a touch of skepticism in your voice.

“It’s simple. Just find a good looking guy to be your fake boyfriend and pretend you’re in love in front of Sunghoon.” Kazuha replied, her words tinged with confidence and a hint of mischief.

A mix of curiosity and hesitation brewed within you. The idea of having a fake relationship solely to play mind games with Sunghoon felt a bit manipulative.

"That feels kinda dishonest, don’t you think?" you remarked, wrestling with your conflicting emotions.

Chaewon couldn't hide her disbelief and frustration. With a dramatic roll of her eyes, she expressed disapproval at your apparent naïveté. "Seriously, you think it's okay that Sunghoon vanished without a trace for two years and now returns with a girlfriend? Wake up and face reality, y/n!" Her words were firm and tinged with disappointment.

Chaewon's sharp words pierced through your hesitation, awakening a spark of anger and defiance within you. It was difficult to deny the injustice of the situation, but your heart still yearned for a genuine connection.

"You don’t understand-" you began to protest, frustration seeping into your voice.

Chaewon grew more frustrated with your reluctance and added, "Y/n, you need to stop being so self-absorbed and go along with our plan. Don't you think you at least deserved an explanation from him after he ghosted everyone for two years?" Her sigh conveyed a mix of resignation and annoyance, emphasizing her frustration at your stubbornness.

The weight of her words hit you hard. Guilt and frustration collided within your thoughts—you couldn’t deny that you felt wronged by his disappearance. Chaewon made valid points, making it difficult to dismiss her perspective.

You bit your lip, the realization of the complexity sinking in.

"I guess you’re right... I do deserve an explanation," you conceded.

Chaewon crossed her arms, her expression shifting from annoyance to satisfaction at your eventual agreement. "So you’re in, right?" she asked, her tone tinged with a hint of victory, hoping for your full commitment to the plan.

you remained silent for a moment, wrestling with your lingering doubts. However, the desire for clarity and a sense of payback against Sunghoon overwhelmed your reservations.

Finally, you took a deep breath and nodded, "Okay, I’m in."

You had your sights set on a guy named Heeseung. Though he wasn't extremely popular, you had to admit he was quite attractive. With fair skin, dark hair, and a tall stature, he met all the physical criteria you sought. The only step left was convincing him to play the role of your fake boyfriend for a day at the winter dance.

Your mind raced with thoughts and questions as you mulled over how to approach the proposition to Heeseung. Despite already admitting the plan to Kazuha and Chaewon, doubts still gnawed at you.

Would he even agree to something so absurd? You wondered.

As you navigated the bustling hallway, you caught a glimpse of Heeseung through the crowd. The confidence and determination within you prompted your pursuit. With a subtle yet steady pace, you weaved through the sea of students until you found yourself standing before Heeseung, who had taken a pause to scroll through his phone.

"Heeseung," you called out, your voice projecting a mixture of nervousness and conviction.

Heeseung flinched slightly at the sound of his name, his attention snapping up from his phone. surprise etched across his face as he recognized you.

"Y/n?" His voice held a hint of question, probably wondering what prompted your sudden approach.

You could tell he was getting flustered around you; almost every guy in the university did. You took a brief moment to compose yourself before speaking, trying to mask the subtle tremors in your voice.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" you asked, hoping he didn't detect the hint of desperation.

His eyes flickered with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, as if he sensed the seriousness of your request.

"Sure, what's up?" he replied, his voice tinged with caution.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts.

"So... I have a big favor to ask," you began, trying to sound casual despite the intensity of your request.

Heeseung raised his brows curiously, his attention fully on you.

"A favor?" he echoed, his tone laced with intrigue.

You swallowed hard, hoping he wouldn't dismiss your request outright.

"Yeah... I'm attending the winter dance, and I need a date..." you trailed off, anticipating how he would respond.

A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes as he registered your unexpected request.

"Oh, uh..." His voice wavered slightly, a subtle hint of uncertainty seeping through, before he composed himself. "Are you asking me?"

Your heart skipped a beat, both nervous and hopeful that he would agree. You nodded hesitantly, hoping he wouldn't reject you on the spot.

"Yes... I was wondering if you could be my date for the dance," you confessed, your voice laced with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability.

He glanced away for a moment, seemingly mulling over your proposition. The silence felt like an eternity to you, your anxiety mounting with each passing second.

Finally, he met your gaze once more, his expression unreadable.

"Why me?" he finally questioned, his voice tinged with curiosity.

You'd anticipated this question, expecting a reasonable explanation would be necessary.

"Well, there are a few reasons," you began, trying to sound assured.

"First, we kind of know each other," you started, hoping to build a case based on familiarity, "And, uh, you're pretty decent-looking..." Your words spilled out awkwardly, your confidence faltering.

A faint blush colored his cheeks, but whether it was from the unexpected compliment or embarrassment, you couldn't tell.

"Okay, those are fair points... but there has to be more, right?" He raised a brow, skepticism evident in his tone.

As you scrambled for more substantial reasons, you remembered Chaewon's words.

"And, um, I need someone trustworthy to be my date," you added quickly, the lie leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

He raised a brow, clearly sensing the hidden agenda behind your response.

"Trustworthy? Why's that?" he probed further, seeking a more satisfying explanation.

You pleaded with Heeseung, imploring, "Just—just do this for me, please?" You managed to get the necessary words out of your mouth, though they left a bitter taste.

"I genuinely believe you're a handsome guy with a great personality, and I'd really love for you to be my partner at the dance..." The words felt foreign and contrived as they escaped your lips, causing an uncomfortable shiver to run down your spine.

Heeseung observed you with an intense gaze, studying your demeanor. He could sense something deeper at play, but whether he believed your explanation remained uncertain.

"Alright," he finally relented, though his voice held a hint of suspicion. "Fine, I'll be your date for the dance."

A mix of relief and anxiety washed over you as he agreed, though the undertone of doubt lingered in his tone. You forced a smile, attempting to disguise your discomfort.

"Thanks, Heeseung," you replied, managing to sound somewhat grateful despite the knot of guilt in your stomach.

“Wait—“ Heeseung spoke up as you turned to leave. “Are you asking me out solely for the dance, or is there something more to it?" His words hung in the air, seeking clarity about your intentions.

Caught off guard, you paused and turned back to face him, trying to maintain composure.

"Why would you think that?" you responded evasively, hoping he wouldn't delve deeper into your true motive.

Heeseung's face flushed with embarrassment as he hesitantly confessed, "I've liked you for quite some time, y/n." His words stumbled out adorably, revealing his hidden feelings.

Your eyes widened in surprise at his bold declaration. The confession caught you off guard, especially since you had assumed he was aware of your ulterior motives.

"You...like me?" The words left your lips in a mix of confusion and disbelief, wondering if you had heard him correctly.

Heeseung chuckled and responded to your question, "Isn't it obvious? Pretty much every guy here is into you." His tone carried a hint of amusement, as if acknowledging the apparent popularity you held among the male population.

Your cheeks flushed at his remark, realizing the truth in his words. Your popularity among the guys was no secret, but having it acknowledged so matter-of-factly left you slightly embarrassed.

You conceded, reluctantly agreeing, "I suppose it could be more than just a one-time thing..." Despite not truly feeling the same, you forced yourself to say the words, knowing it was an act.

He raised a brow skeptically, seemingly sensing your wavering conviction.

"That didn't sound very convincing," he pointed out, a subtle hint of accusation in his tone.

You insisted, "I promise I'm being honest." Perhaps getting to know Heeseung better could actually help you move on from Sunghoon. After all, he apparently had a new girlfriend now, so it was likely he had moved on as well.

He examined you, his gaze penetrating your facade. The skepticism remained evident in his expression, but he didn't push further, a hint of resignation in his voice.

"If you say so... I'll trust you."

You smiled and confirmed, "Great! So, Friday at 6?”

He nodded, still somewhat uncertain.

"Sure…" he agreed, his voice trailing off, unable to shake off the unease.

—

Over the past few days, you got Heeseung's contact info and occasionally chatted with him. He was funny and kind, reminding you of a less shy version of Sunghoon. Using this connection, you tried to distract yourself from thoughts of Sunghoon, and it seemed to be gradually working.

Time seemed to fly by with the newfound company. Despite Heeseung's playful and sometimes teasing demeanor, getting to know him became a pleasant distraction from your past and a glimmer of hope for the future.

Heeseung, being the playful flirt that he is, often slips in subtle compliments, saying things like, "Wow y/n, so pretty today huh?" He loves to catch you off guard with unexpected winks and playful banter, trying to get a reaction out of you. Whenever he has the chance, he'll poke fun at your cuteness, saying, "You're too adorable when you get flustered, you know that?"

Sunghoon had become somewhat more elusive to you, and the only times you caught a glimpse of him these days were in passing within the bustling university hallways or outside on campus grounds.

With each fleeting sight of him, a mix of emotions coursed through you, stirring an uncomfortable blend of nostalgia and pain, as if your past memories with him came flooding back in sharp clarity.

As the evening of the winter dance finally arrived, a mix of anticipation and unease stirred within you. The crowd buzzed with excitement, creating a vibrant atmosphere. The decorations were grand, the music was upbeat and energetic, and couples swarmed the dance floor, immersed in the festivities.

You held onto Heeseung's arm as you eagerly guided him toward your group of friends. Grinning, you introduced him to Kazuha and Chaewon, your closest companions. "Kazuha, Chaewon, meet Heeseung," you said cheerfully, turning towards him. Noticeably shy at first, Heeseung nodded a timid greeting before offering a soft smile in response.

Your friends observed him, seemingly intrigued by your choice of company.Chaewon's brow arched as she looked him up and down, giving him a once-over.

"So, Heeseung, huh?" she remarked, her tone hinting at curiosity.

Heeseung fidgeted a little under their gazes, somewhat intimidated but trying to maintain a casual demeanor. "Yeah, that's me," he replied, forcing a slight chuckle to lighten the tension.

Kazuha studied him for a moment, a small smirk playing at her lips.

"Nice to meet you," she said, her tone laced with an underlying layer of assessment.

He nodded, returning the greeting with an uneasy smile, still somewhat unsettled by your friend's scrutinizing gazes. You sensed his discomfort and squeezed his arm reassuringly, offering silent support.

You continued conversing with your friends and Heeseung, but you found yourself unable to shake the sensation of someone's gaze upon you. It wasn't unusual for you to receive attention, considering your popularity, yet this time, something felt distinct.

Subtly glancing around the room, your eyes caught sight of Sunghoon, staring at you with an expressionless face, calmly sipping what appeared to be alcohol. Their gazes briefly met until he averted his eyes just as quickly, returning his focus to his group of friends. Despite his apparent nonchalance, you could still sense his lingering stare fixated upon you.

As your gaze met Sunghoon's, a mix of emotions surged within you—hurt, confusion, maybe even a hint of longing. The sight of him, casually engaging with his friends, stirred old memories, and a pang of disappointment hit you when he quickly averted his gaze.

You tried to focus on the conversation with your friends, but the lingering intensity of Sunghoon's stare weighed heavily on you. You couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind.

As the night progressed, the room seemed to grow hotter, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Despite your efforts to enjoy yourself with Heeseung and your friends, you couldn't shake off the sensation of Sunghoon's eyes following you.

Each time your gaze subtly grazed in his direction, his cold, emotionless stare met yours. It was as if he had an uncanny ability to find you in the crowd, always observing from afar.

As the night wore on and the crowd thinned, Kazuha and Chaewon excused themselves to meet their respective dates. Heeseung, taking notice of your situation, turned to you with a suggestion.

He leaned in slightly, his voice carrying over the noise, "I'm going to grab some drinks. Want something?"

You hesitated for a moment, considering the option.

"Yeah, sure," you replied, trying to sound casual. "Just be quick."

He nodded and turned to leave, leaving you standing alone for a moment. Your gaze lingered in the direction where Sunghoon was sitting, but he wasn’t there. His friends were still there, but he wasn’t..

Your mind wandered, wondering why he had left without explaining.

"Did he go to the bathroom?" you muttered to yourself, trying to brush off the sudden unease within you.

A few moments later, Heeseung returned with two plastic cups in hand, the clear liquid within glimmering under the dancing lights. He handed you one, his smile subtle yet warm.

Taking the cup from him, you thanked him. As you took a sip, the slight bitter taste of the alcohol hit your tastebuds, but it was smooth enough not to burn your throat.

With some more drinks, you found yourself feeling increasingly hazy and woozy. Heeseung seemed to be in the same state, his eyes heavy with intoxication. At that very moment, his appearance held a certain allure, exuding an almost irresistible kissable aura.

Heeseung's normally charming demeanor had now taken on a different aura, fueled by the intoxicating effects of the alcohol. His eyes, usually bright and expressive, now held a mysterious allure, leaving you captivated and drawn towards him. The alcohol seemed to elevate the chemistry between you, making all the senses heightened and creating an intense pull in the air.

Heeseung's movements became more fluid and relaxed, his inhibitions lowered by the influence of alcohol. His gaze locked onto you, his eyes half-lidded, a sultry smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Heeseung's hand found its way to your waist, gently pulling you closer. Despite your slightly unsteady state, he managed to steady himself against a nearby wall. "You look good tonight," he whispered as he leaned in slightly, his voice holding a hint of huskiness.

The proximity of his body to yours sent a subtle shiver down your spine, the warmth of his touch igniting a spark of chemistry. Your mind felt a little hazy, the alcohol further blurring the lines of control.

As he leaned against the wall, pulling you closer, the words escaped his lips in a soft whisper. "So pretty tonight," he repeated, his voice carrying a hint of sensuality that sent a jolt through your core.

You couldn't help but blush, the mix of emotions and alcohol creating a confusing whirlwind of sensations. His hand tightened on your waist, a possessive gesture that sent a subtle shiver through your body. You met his gaze hesitantly, unsure of what to do next.

As Heeseung's gaze held yours, your inhibitions grew weaker. Your heart pounded in your chest, the alcohol in your system making you bolder. Unable to resist any longer, you leaned forward, closing the small distance between you. Your lips met his, a moment of undeniable chemistry igniting between you.

At first, Heeseung seemed surprised by your unexpected boldness, but he quickly reciprocated the kiss, his hand sliding to your lower back and pulling you closer against him. The air grew hotter, charged with a potent mix of desire and intoxication.

The intensity of the kiss left you breathless, but as soon as you came to your senses, guilt and regret flooded your mind. Your heart pounded with the realization of what you had just done. Without hesitation, you pulled back abruptly, breaking the heated moment.

The overwhelming guilt and the alcohol in your system made it difficult to think clearly, so without a word, you quickly pushed away from Heeseung and made a beeline toward the exit.

As you suddenly pulled away from the kiss, Heeseung, still somewhat intoxicated, tried to comprehend the sudden shift in tone. With a confused expression, he called out to you, his voice a mixture of concern and confusion.

"Hey, wait! Where are you going?" He tried to grab your wrist, attempting to prevent you from leaving.

The alcohol in his system impaired his coordination, and he stumbled a little as he grasped your wrist, trying to keep you from bolting. His grip was firm, a desperate attempt to keep you from running away.

But your mind was set on escape, the guilt and shame coursing through your veins. His hand around your wrist felt like a burning weight, a reminder of the mistake, you feared you had made.

With a pang of guilt and determination, you yanked your wrist away, breaking free from his grip and fleeing without a backward glance. You felt your heart racing at this new side of Heeseung you never knew.

Heeseung, still slightly intoxicated and stunned by your abrupt actions, was determined not to let you escape so easily.

Despite your attempt to break free, he didn't back down. Instead, he tightened his grip on your wrist and pulled you back toward him, pulling you into the nearest washroom.

In a sudden burst of passion, he locked the door, pressing you against the solid surface. "I—I shouldn't have kissed you..." you muttered timidly, apprehensively anticipating his reactions. "Do you know how long I've been yearning, craving for that to happen?" He responded, visibly confused and hurt by your words. "What do you mean you shouldn't have kissed me?"

There was a hint of desperation in his tone, his voice tinged with pain.

He continued, his grip on your wrist still strong, pinning you against the wall. "All this time I've been waiting, hoping, praying for a moment like that to happen. And now you say it was a mistake?"

Before you could even utter a word in response, Heeseung acted swiftly, grasping your wrists with a single hand and pinning them above you, his grip firm yet filled with desire. Without a moment's hesitation, he leaned in, kissing you harshly.

His actions were driven by a mix of desperation and passion, his kiss forceful and dominant. The taste of his lips was a potent mix of alcohol and lingering sweetness, a mixture that only seemed to fuel the intensity of the moment. He didn't let you withdraw, pressing himself against you, the wall serving as a solid barrier behind you.

Heeseung forcefully held onto your wrists, keeping you firmly in place. He then trailed kisses down your neck, using his other hand to cover your mouth, muffling any cries for help that might alert others. “You shouldn’t have done that y/n,” he chuckled against your ear. “Look what you’ve got yourself into.”

A shiver ran down your spine as his deep, husky voice murmured against your ear. The combination of his firm grip on your wrists, combined with his hand over your mouth, left you feeling both powerless and helpless.

The way he continued to nuzzle against your neck only heightened the intoxicating mixture of confusion and desire. His words cut through the haze, a reminder that your actions had consequences.

Heeseung continued to trail kisses down your neck, savoring your scent with every gentle press of his lips against your skin.

"You smell so good..." he murmured in between soft kisses, his voice filled with a mixture of admiration and yearning. “Let me guess, Prada?”

His breath was warm against your skin as he moved to the side, trailing his lips along your cheek. "it is, isn't it?" Heeseung's nose lingered near your collarbone, breathing in your scent deeply, as if trying to memorize it. “Looks like we have the same taste in brands too huh?”

You attempted to move your head away from him, but he only responded by putting more force on your writs, causing you to whimper in response. "Ah-ah y/n," he murmured, a hint of warning in his voice, "don't try to do that..."

Heeseung's tone was firm and authoritative, sending a chill down your spine. The strength in his grip on your wrists reinforced his dominant position, leaving you no choice but to submit to his will.

Suddenly, the sound of the unlock of the bathroom door echoed through the space, jarring both you and Heeseung out of the moment. Without hesitation, whoever opened the door barged into the washroom.

Under normal circumstances, any observer would likely assume your current situation to be two weirdos doing something kinky.

However, Sunghoon knew you well enough to understand your body language. He could recognize the fear etched upon your eyes, perceiving your expressions as genuine distress rather than simulated passion.

His gaze shifted towards your widened eyes and trembling lips, noticing the subtle hints of fear and desperation etched upon your face.

The sound of the door unlocking had shattered any illusion, and he knew instantly that this was not a consensual situation you were willingly participating in.

Heeseung, too occupied with his fixation on you, was oblivious to the sudden intrusion. His grip on your wrists remained firm, his lips still pressed against your neck, unaware that someone had walked in.

Without a moment's hesitation, Sunghoon yanked Heeseung away from you, his fingers firmly gripping the collar of Heeseung's shirt, pulling him away from your trembling form.

Heeseung stumbled slightly as he was forcibly pulled away, surprised by the sudden intervention.

His eyes widened as he met Sunghoon's gaze, a mix of annoyance and defiance in his expression. "What the hell are you doing?" He snapped, attempting to shake off Sunghoon's grip.

Sunghoon's grip on his collar tightened, his tone sharp as steel. "Get off of her," he growled, his eyes locking onto Heeseung's with a chilling intensity. "Now."

Heeseung responded with a snarl, his words dripping with resentment. "And why do you care? You abandoned everyone, including your girlfriend, for two whole years, and now you show up out of no where playing hero?"

Sunghoon's jaw clenched at Heeseung's accusation, but he didn't back down. "That doesn't change the fact that what you're doing right now is wrong," he retorted, his grip never loosening. "She's clearly uncomfortable, and you're still holding onto her. Let go."

Heeseung's stubborn attitude persisted, refusing to budge. He scoffed, his voice dripping with mockery. "And what makes you think you have a right to intervene? You were never there for her when she needed you."

Sunghoon clenched his jaw, the weight of Heeseung's words sinking in. "That's not the point," he replied through gritted teeth. "The point is that you're taking advantage of her right now, and I'm not going to just stand by and let that happen."

Despite Heeseung's reluctance to back down, Sunghoon's grip on Heeseung's collar grew firmer, his voice dripping with determination. "Let go, or I swear, I'll make you let go." As he spoke, the intensity in his eyes grew more pronounced, a clear warning that he was dead serious.

Heeseung, sensing the seriousness in Sunghoon's tone, reluctantly released his grip on your wrists, his grip loosening.

You could practically feel the tension in the air as Heeseung reluctantly let go, his grip slackening, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Your wrists were sore from his tight hold, and every nerve in your body felt raw.

Finally free from his grasp, you took a moment to compose yourself, your thoughts still a chaotic whirlwind of confusion and fear. However, the sight of Sunghoon standing there, having come to your rescue, stirred a mix of emotions within you.

Heeseung, feeling the weight of the situation, reluctantly released you, his grip loosening. Without a word of apology or explanation, Heeseung swiftly straightened his clothes and brushed past Sunghoon, walking out of the washroom without looking back.

You tried to say something, but Sunghoon left before you could speak. “Sunghoon, wait!” But he doesn’t. He just kept going. You were left wondering what had just happened. The air was heavy with uncertainty, leaving you feeling confused and full of unanswered questions.

As Sunghoon walked away, his footsteps fading in the distance, you stood there, feeling overwhelmed by the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. The air hung heavy with uncertainty, and a million questions swirled through your mind. What had just transpired? Why did he simply walk away without saying a word?

You call a taxi back to your dorm, not being able to focus in your drunken state. The whole time you were focused on what just happened back in the washroom. Finally, you arrived home, kicking off your shoes as you slouched down on the couch. Pulling out your phone you see 3 missed calls from Kazuha. You sigh as you turn your phone off, hurrying your face into a pillow, screaming inside of it.

The silence of your room was heavy, the weight of your thoughts and the memory of the events of the night settling heavily upon you. You sank onto the couch, burying your face in a nearby pillow as you let out a stifled scream, desperately trying to release the pent-up emotions from the night.

The thought of calling Sunghoon has came up once or twice, but you never ended up doing so. You then wondered why you didn’t see his ‘girlfriend’ there with him. Maybe Kazuha and Chaewon saw someone else that looked like Sunghoon? That had to be it.

The questions continued to swirl in your mind, and the image of Sunghoon's expressionless face as he left the washroom haunted your thoughts. Why had he simply left without a word, leaving you standing there confused and overwhelmed?

Just as you doze off from your drunken state, you saw Sunghoon’s caller ID on your phone as it rang on the bedside table. You quickly sat up, unplugging your phone as you picked it up. “Hello??” You answered, a feeling of both worry and excitement creeping on you. “Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon, sounding weary yet relieved, answered in a hushed tone. "Y/n, finally, you picked up."

You heard low, heavy breaths on the line for a few moments before a deep voice responded, "y/n..." The words were slurred with a hint of intoxication, betraying his state of inebriation.

The realization that he was not completely sober sent a pang of disappointment through your chest. A part of you had hoped for a clear, sober conversation, but it seemed fate had other plans.

“Hello?? Sunghoon, are you okay?” You asked with worry. Did he get hurt? Was he in trouble? Was he finally going to tell you why he was gone for so long. No, he didn’t do any of that. “Y/n.. just, just keep talking for me..”

He sighed heavily into the phone, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation. "Just...please talk to me. I need to hear your voice."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a confusing mix of concern, relief, and a strange pang of longing coursing through you. Something about hearing his voice, even in its drunken state, stirred deep emotions within you. "Okay, Sunghoon," you replied softly, your voice tinged with a touch of resignation, "I'll keep talking."

Sunghoon let out a sigh of relief, his tone now tinged with vulnerability. "Okay..." He paused for a moment, heavy panting noises were heard before continuing. "I just...I need to hear you talk y/n."

His words hung in the air, almost as if he was seeking something more than just the sound of your voice. There was a vulnerability in his tone that tugged at your heartstrings. "Alright," you responded, your voice tinged with a hint of concern, "I'm here, I'm listening. What do you want me to say?"

The sound of a muffled groan reached your ears, followed by Sunghoon's request, his voice tinged with desperation, "Anything—just keep talking for me..."

The raw emotion in his voice, tinged with need, sent a shiver down your spine. You took a deep breath, feeling a strange mix of concern and confusion. What was happening? Why did he want to hear you talking so badly, especially in his state of inebriation?

Your concern and confusion blended together as you asked, "Sunghoon, what are you doing?" You moved to a sitting position on your bed, allowing your legs to dangle.

There was a moment of silence before he finally responded, his voice slurred with intoxication. "I just... I had a rough night, y/n. I needed to hear your voice, to know you're real."

The pieces quickly started to fall into place as you heard him swear under his breath, and his labored breaths grew even more labored. Suddenly, realization struck: you knew exactly what was happening on the other end of the call.

A mix of concern and embarrassment washed over you as you gradually understood the situation. It seemed like Sunghoon was in a vulnerable state, and hearing the strained sound of his breathing made everything clearer. "Sunghoon," you began softly, a twinge of worry in your voice, "Are you... are you alone right now?"

"Yeah, I'm alone…" he murmured lowly, heavy breaths still audible in the background. “Why?”

You took a second in to process what was going on before you finally answered him. “Are you..” you pause. Was it too risky? No, fuck it.

“Are you jerking off..?”

Sunghoon froze for a moment, the heavy breathing suddenly coming to an abrupt halt. You could almost sense the surprise and panic on the other end of the line, the silence growing thick with tension. After a brief pause, he finally responded, his voice strained, "I— uh… yes."

He didn't deny it or try to hide the truth, his response confirming your suspicion. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, your mind swimming with confusion and conflicting emotions. What was he thinking? Why was he doing this? Why did he call you in the midst of such a personal moment?

His plea came through the line, his speech heavy with breathlessness, "Just—just keep talking for me, y/n..." The air of desperation was palpable in his tone, making it clear that he was engaged in something physical. “I’m so close, please…”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you winced inwardly at his bluntness. The sounds of his breath and the desperate tone of his voice were hard to ignore. You felt a mixture of conflicting emotions, torn between concern, confusion, and a strange pang of sadness. "Sunghoon, I… I don’t understand," you finally managed to say, your own voice wavering. "Why are you asking me to talk to you while you… do that?"

The desperation in his voice intensified as he pleaded with you, his tone pleading, "Y/n, y/n please... please just keep talking for me, be a good girl and keep talking..."

The words stung like a burn, and you felt a strange mix of frustration and helplessness. Your concern for him was growing, and the conflicting feelings coursing through you added to your inner turmoil. "But, Sunghoon… I can't just sit here listening to this. This... it feels weird, and I don't know what to say," you replied, your voice shaking.

His voice became more commanding as he requested, "Tell me... tell me how much you missed me when I was gone, tell me y/n." The intensity in his tone indicated that he wanted, if not outright demanded, a specific response from you.

Your heart skipped a beat at the command in his voice, and a wave of uncertainty washed over you. Missing him wasn't the issue, but the request felt almost manipulative in this situation. "Sunghoon..." you began, your voice strained, "I can't just say it like that. It doesn't feel right. Don't do this to me right now."

“Y/n…” he groaned, almost wet slapping noise heard in the background now. “Do you want me to turn on my camera??”

The words hit you like a cold bucket of water, the sound in the background only adding to the intensity of the situation.

Alarm bells rang in your head, and you felt a surge of panic. "What? No, don’t do that!" You quickly responded, your voice laced with alarm and frustration. "Why are you even asking that? I don’t want to see—"

Too late.

Before you could finish your sentence and protest further, the sound of a call request beeped on your phone, his name appearing at the top. Your heart leaped into your throat as your suspicion was confirmed—he was requesting a video call.

Your mind raced, torn between the feeling of not wanting to see what was happening and the lingering curiosity, possibly concern for what he was doing to himself. With a trembling hand, you hesitated before finally accepting the call, the screen filling with his image.

The sight of him on your screen was a shock. He was shirtless, his chest heaving heavily, his body exposed and vulnerable. The sight made your heart skip a beat, and you felt a pang of mixed emotions. He was sweating, biting his lip, his eyes filled with a strange mixture of lust and desperation.

“Oh shit,” he muttered under his breath, realizing the camera was focused on him, not what he wanted you to see, so he flips the camera.

There were no words to describe the wave of conflicting emotions coursing through you as the camera flipped around. You could only watch, heart pounding, as he adjusted the angle, revealing a perspective that made your stomach twist with unease. You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say or do as the reality of the situation sunk in even deeper.

His veiny throbbing manhood was leaking with pre-cum as he used one hand to stroke it up and down as the other one is used to hold the camera. “Y/n, keep talking for me..” he pleaded in a low raspy tone. “Please..”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you stammered, your mind racing, struggling to process the visual unfolding before you on the screen. The sight was both shocking and overwhelming, and you felt lost for words.

The desperation in Sunghoon’s voice was palpable, his plea hanging in the air, and your heart ached with conflicting emotions. "Please, y/n," he begged once more, "Just keep talking to me."

Each breath you took was heavy, and the words stuck in your throat. The mixture of concern and confusion warred within you, leaving you speechless. How did you end up in this situation? Why were you even on the phone with him, witnessing this intimate moment?

Your eyes darted between the screen and your own hands, feeling helpless and overwhelmed. "Sunghoon," you finally managed to speak, your voice trembling, "Why are you doing this? Why did you ask me to talk to you while… while you're… doing this?"

The plea in your voice was evident, the raw mix of emotions seeping through. "Please, y/n, just keep talking… I need you right now," Sunghoon urged, his voice heavy with vulnerability and desperation.

He repeated the question once again, his words tinged with a sense of insistence, "Are you looking? Looking?" followed by clarification, "Looking at your screen, at what my camera is focused on y/n."

You swallowed, feeling trapped, your heart racing. The command in his tone was undeniable, and you couldn't help but glance at the screen hesitantly. "Yes," you breathed out shakily, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, I'm looking."

His voice shifted, taking on a more possessive tone as he murmured, "Good girl, now keep talking for me..." The intensity in his words increased further as it was evident that his hand moved faster.

Your breath hitched in your throat, the situation escalating unexpectedly. The mixture of conflicting emotions was overwhelming, and your mind reeled with confusion. Hearing the words “good girl” made your stomach flutter, and the intensity in his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

You couldn't deny him your voice, no matter how strange and uncomfortable this felt. "Okay," you replied, your voice strained, "I'll keep talking for you."

His voice turned demanding once again, his tone dripping with need, "Tell me how you felt when I was gone, tell me how much you missed me." With each word, the yearning in his voice deepened.

The request felt both intimate and manipulative, but you knew you couldn’t deny it completely. You took a breath before finally responding, your voice tinged with vulnerability.

"Sunghoon…" you hesitated, the words catching in your throat for a moment before continuing. "When you were gone, I missed you… a lot. I missed your presence. I missed talking to you, hanging out with you… I missed you."

As you recalled the weight of his absence, the memories flooded your mind. "I could never forget how much pain I went through when you disappeared without a word," you admitted softly, "And now you're back, and it's like all the old feelings are coming back..."

He suddenly broke the heated atmosphere, his voice tinged with remorse as he apologized, "God I'm so sorry y/n." The words were heavy with regret, his breath growing heavier with each moment, each syllable tinged with a hint of desperation. "I—I didn’t know what to do..." His confession hung in the air as he continued to stroke his huge throbbing member.

The pain in his voice tugged at your heartstrings, but his words left you confused. "What do you mean… you didn’t know what to do?" you asked, your voice laced with a mix of concern and curiosity.

"I—I didn't know how to handle my feelings for you... When I left," he stammered, his voice quivering with vulnerability. "I was scared. Scared of messing up, scared of hurting you. So I pushed you away, thinking it was the best thing to do."

“F-fuck,” he muttered, quickening his pace. “Please y/n, I’m so fucking close, keep talking for me yeah?”

The pleading in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. It was a strange mix of feelings—a knot in your stomach, confusion, and somehow, a sense of being needed.

"Okay," you murmured, your voice soft and reluctant yet tinged with a hint of submission. "I'll keep talking for you... If that's what you want."

As you continued to watch him please himself, you felt a tingling sensation, bucking your hips up a bit as you let out a quiet whimper. Sunghoon chuckled at your noise. “Are you turned on y/n?”

The question caught you off guard, and you felt an odd mixture of embarrassment and excitement. "W-what?" you stammered, "No, I'm just... I'm just..." You paused, caught in your own reaction, torn between wanting to deny and wanting to admit the truth.

The smirk on his face grew wider as he realized the effect he was having on you. "Say it, y/n," he commanded with a hint of dominance in his tone. "Don't deny it."

Your body responded involuntarily to his words, making it harder to deny. A small whimper escaped from you again, betraying your attempts at denial. "I..." Your voice trailed off, your body shifting restlessly on the bed, a mix of conflicting feelings coursing through you.

He chuckled softly at your response, the sound both smug and seductive. "That's right," he murmured, his voice filled with a hint of satisfaction. "Admit it. You're turned on by watching your ex jerk himself off by your voice, aren't you?

The admission made your face heat up, but there was no denying the truth. "Yes," you confessed in a hushed tone, your voice barely audible, "I am."

The mixture of embarrassment and arousal was overwhelming, and you couldn't deny the effect his presence had on you, no matter how confusing it felt. You then slowly proceeded to slide a hand inside your shorts, moving aside your panties as you started to touch yourself, letting out a loud whimper.

“God y/n,” Sunghoon groaned loudly. “You’re such a slut.” The words hit you like a punch to the gut, but they also sent a wave of guilt through you as a mixture of conflicting emotions coursed through your veins.

“S-sunghoon..” you whined, inserting a finger into your cunt as you thrusted at a quick pace.

Sunghoon's voice took on a teasing lilt as he chuckled and inquired, "Yeah y/n? What is it, what's wrong?" Despite his apparent amusement, there was a hint of concern hidden beneath his words, as if he sensed your unease.

The mixture of the teasing tone and hints of concern added to your confusion. "It’s just… I don’t know if… if we should be doing this," you muttered in between breaths, your conflicting emotions making it difficult to voice your concerns clearly.

“Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“What do miss what you’re looking at right now?”

His question caught you off guard, your mind scrambling for an answer. "I—I miss… your touch," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, "I miss the way you would make me feel with your hands, your lips, your body, your cock…" The guilt gnawed at you, but you couldn’t deny the truth.

A low growl escaped his lips, and he muttered, "Oh god..." The intensity in his voice was palpable as his breathing continued to grow increasingly heavy. “Y/n- y/n m’ cuming—“

Your heart pounded as you heard his words, the mixture of anticipation and guilt still swirling inside you. "Wait, wait," you protested, "Not now, not on camera, please–"

Suddenly, a gush of white liquid squirted out of his cock as it spilt everywhere, a deep loud moan being let out afterwards. You felt yourself getting close sooner than later, adding another finger inside your hole. “S-Sunghoon!” You whimpered, arching your back to the heated sensation.

Sunghoon's breath was heavy and ragged, his chest heaving as he tried to regain composure. A mix of satisfaction and something else lingered in his eyes, the intensity of his gaze still palpable despite the aftermath.

"Y/n..." he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of surprise and a touch of something else. "Show me what you’re doing, turn on your camera sweetie."

You froze, caught between compliance and hesitation. The demand felt like a crossroad, uncertainty and excitement coursing through your veins. But there was curiosity too.

"Come on," he urged softly, his voice almost like a gentle command. "Let me how you’re pleasing yourself to my voice."

The words echoed in your mind, igniting a mixture of desire and vulnerability. You hesitated for a moment, the weight of the request heavy on your heart. But slowly, you found yourself drawn in by the allure of his voice, the temptation of obedience growing stronger with each passing second.

"Don't be shy, y/n," he urged gently, "I want to see how much you miss my touch. Show me."

In the face of his insistence, the last remnants of your resistance wavered. Biting your lip, you slowly reached for the camera, your hands trembling with a mix of anticipation and trepidation.

“Only two fingers y/n?” Sunghoon scoffed, a clear offence in his tone. “Come on, you know I’m bigger than that.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in response. "I know!" you snapped. "I...I can't...I'm trying..." the rest of the words dying in your throat.

His voice turned more domineering as he instructed with a hint of authority, "Put another finger in..." The words left his lips with a subtle demand, as if seeking explicit obedience from you.

Reluctance danced in your eyes, but a part of you couldn't help but react to his tone. Without wanting to, your body responded, submitting to the authority in his voice.

"That's right." He encouraged, a sense of satisfaction and ownership lacing his tone. "That's it, y/n."

The words both grated and excited you. There was a strange sense of satisfaction in obeying, but it only fueled the conflict in your mind. "Sunghoon...I—Im cumming, oh god Sunghoon, I’m so close!" You were torn between seeking release and questioning if this was the right path to take.

"Good girl." He murmured with satisfaction, his voice filled with a mixture of possessiveness and encouragement. "Give it to me. Don't hold back."

The words left you breathless, a mix of frustration and arousal coursing through your veins. You felt both empowered and vulnerable, surrendering to his command yet fighting against the overwhelming rush of sensations coursing through your body.

After what felt like an eternity, you felt yourself reach your climax, your lungs gasping for oxygen as you pull your coaxed fingers out.

Your body trembled with the aftermath, beads of sweat trickling down your forehead. The air was thick with a mix of satisfaction and uncertainty. A heavy silence hung between you both, the weight of the moment palpable in the air.

Sunghoon observed you quietly, his eyes roaming over your disheveled form. There was a hint of a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his lips, but it was tinged with a trace of concern. "Are you okay, y/n?" He finally asked, his voice soft and laced with a hint of genuine care.

You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction coursing through your veins. "Yeah," you manage to reply, your voice shaky but laced with a hint of vulnerability, "I think so..."

His words were slurred, a consequence of his intoxication, as he offered a simple, "That’s good y/n." There was a hint of detachment in his tone, suggesting that his judgment was clouded by the effects of alcohol. You couldn’t help but recall your own inebriated state.

A pang of guilt washed over you as you considered both your and his altered states, a nagging feeling of regret settling in. The situation had spiraled out of control, fueled by alcohol and clouded judgment.

You were left hanging once again, the call abruptly ending without explanation. "Great," you thought, feeling frustrated at the abrupt cutoff. The silence that followed was deafening, leaving you with more questions than answers.

You sat there, confused and frustrated, the silence heavy in the air. The sudden disconnect from Sunghoon left you feeling a mix of confusion and irritation after what he just did, after what he showed you. Your thoughts swirled with unanswered questions, the sudden end of the call leaving you with a sense of ambiguity.

You couldn't help but wonder why he had ended the call so abruptly, leaving you hanging without a proper explanation. Questions flooded your mind, and uncertainty gnawed at your core. What had possessed him to do what he did? Was it just the influence of alcohol and his lingering feelings for you? Or was there more to this than what it seemed? You sighed as you put your shorts back on, pulling the covers over your body. You’d just have to wait and confront him the next day at campus.

—

You found yourself anxiously entering the campus the next day, your heart pounding in anticipation of seeing him. Throughout the night, you had replayed the events of the previous evening in your mind countless times, wrestling with conflicting emotions. On one hand, you were upset by his actions and the unexpected ending of the call. On the other hand, you couldn't deny the complex mixture of arousal, nostalgia, and longing that had stirred within you.

Every step you took brought you closer to the possibility of encountering him, the idea both thrilling and nerve-wracking. As you navigated the bustling campus, your eyes scanned every corner and hallway, searching for a glimpse of him. Your mind churned with questions, wondering how he would react when he saw you, if he would act as if nothing had happened or if he would acknowledge it.

You spotted Kazuha and Chaewon, seated on a nearby bench. You approached them, wanting to inquire if they had glimpsed any sign of him around.

As you drew closer to the two, you saw Kazuha noticing you, her eyes lighting up with recognition. She nudged Chaewon, who turned towards you as well. A mixture of curiosity and excitement danced in their eyes.

"Hey y/n!" They greeted you with playful smiles, their voices carrying across the space between you. "What's up? You look lost in thought." Kazuha teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

You smiled back, feeling a sense of familiarity in their presence. "Hey guys," you replied, glancing between them. "Have either of you seen Sunghoon around? I need to talk to him."

They exchanged puzzled glances before Chaewon spoke up, "I thought you were over him... Something come up?" Her question was laced with curiosity and concern, as if she sensed a change in your feelings or situation.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. "It's complicated," you admitted, your voice tinged with a mix of uncertainty and vulnerability. "We had a... weird encounter last night." As the words left your lips, you couldn't help but feel a knot tighten in your stomach.

Kazuha and Chaewon exchanged another glance, their curiosity deepening. They could tell that whatever had happened between you and Sunghoon had left you in a state of turmoil. "A weird encounter?" Kazuha prodded gently, her voice laced with genuine concern.

You responded with mild irritation, "Just—tell me if you saw him today." Although you tried to mask it with a casual tone, the underlying anxiousness in your voice was apparent.

The girls seemed to pick up on the tension in your voice. Kazuha replied after a brief pause, her tone cautious, "We did see him earlier. He was heading towards the library, I think."

Chaewon chimed in, "Yeah, he looked like he was in a bit of a rush though. Maybe he's busy studying or something?"

“Or maybe he’s spending time with that girl he made out with a few days ago..” Kazuha added in a teasing tone.

Your heart sank at the reminder, but you couldn't let your emotions show. "Right," you responded dryly, trying to maintain a facade of nonchalance. "Thanks for the info, I'll go check the library then."

The girls exchanged a knowing glance, sensing the hint of disappointment in your voice, but they didn't press further. "Sure, no problem," Chaewon replied, her tone softening. "Good luck."

You nodded in appreciation before turning and heading towards the library, your mind racing with mixed feelings. The image of him with that other girl resurfaced, stirring up a blend of jealousy and resignation.

As you made your way through the campus, your mind drifted between the desire to confront him and the fear of discovering a painful truth. The walk to the library felt longer than usual, each step weighed down by the uncertainty brewing within you.

The library loomed in the distance, its imposing structure a symbol of knowledge and tranquility. However, today it felt like a place of reckoning, where the truth might reveal itself. Your heart pounded in anticipation, the conflicting emotions raging within you as you pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The quiet surroundings engulfed you as you entered the library. The scent of books and silence hung heavily in the air. Your eyes scanned the aisles, searching through the labyrinth of shelves for any sign of him. The silence was broken only by the occasional rustling of pages and soft whispers from fellow students studying.

You moved through the rows of books, your footsteps muffled by the carpet. Each step brought you closer to the possibility of encountering him, and your mind raced with questions. Was he alone? Was he with that girl? Would he be willing to talk?

Your gaze followed the direction of your friends' glances, finding him sitting beside a girl who was quite attractive. The sight of his genuine smile didn't go unnoticed by you, leaving a subtle pang of jealousy in your chest.

You watched from a distance, observing their interaction from afar. Sunghoon looked relaxed and at ease next to her, a genuine smile gracing his lips. The sight of their connection stirred up a mix of feelings within you: jealousy, curiosity, and a hint of disappointment.

The girl was not only beautiful but seemed to effortlessly draw Sunghoon's attention, her every movement capturing his gaze. The laughter that occasionally escaped them added to your unease, each moment making the knot in your stomach grow tighter.

Why was it that every time you tried to move on, it didn’t work? He left you without an explanation, said that he ‘didn’t know what to do,’ and then last night.. last night is something you didn’t ever want to think about at this point.

You couldn't deny the conflicting emotions swirling within you. The mixture of resentment, betrayal, and lingering feelings had left an ache in your chest. Seeing him so comfortable with someone new only amplified the intensity of those emotions.

As you continued to observe, a mix of conflicting emotions flooded your mind. The sight of him laughing and talking effortlessly with the other girl stirred up old feelings of resentment and betrayal. The pang of jealousy intertwined with a hint of disappointment, and the more you watched, the tighter the knot in your stomach twisted.

A part of you yearned for the days when you shared moments like that, when his laughter was reserved only for you. The sight of him finding happiness with someone else felt like a painful reminder of what was lost.

Before your thoughts could spiral any further, something caught your attention. Sunghoon suddenly stood up from his seat, his expression shifting as if sensing your presence.

Your heart skipped a beat as his gaze met yours, a mixture of surprise and wariness crossing his features. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you both locked eyes across the library.

There was a tense silence between you, the weight of your shared history and unspoken words hanging in the air. Sunghoon's gaze lingered on yours for a few moments longer before he slowly turned and walked towards you.

With each step he took, your heart pounded louder in your chest, the anticipation mingling with a hint of anxiety within you. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the quiet library as he approached you, his expression still guarded.

As he finally stood before you, there was a hesitant pause, an air of uncertainty hanging between you. "Y/n," he finally spoke, his voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and trepidation.

The sound of your name on his lips sent a pang through your heart, stirring up memories from past times. You could feel the weight of his words, the weight of the history that laid between you.

"Can we talk?" he continued, his gaze searching yours for any hint of your feelings. "In private, please."

A scoff escaped your lips as you concluded, "I think I already know what’s going on," indicating your suspicion over the situation. Without another word, you turned and started walking away, leaving behind your friends and the lingering uncertainty.

Sunghoon watched you walk away, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as you left without giving him a chance to explain. He hesitated for a brief moment, then swiftly turned to follow after you, determined to catch up.

As he caught up to you, he walked alongside you in a hurry, his steps quickening to match your pace. "Y/n... wait," he pleaded, his voice tinged with urgency. "Please, let me explain."

“Explain what Sunghoon?” you snapped as your eyes widened. "Explain that you disappear on me for two years, make out with a random girl, save me from Heeseung at the party, call me to listen to my voice so you can get off, and then go back to another girl right afterwards?" Your words hung heavily in the air, leaving him stunned, speechless for a brief moment.

Sunghoon was momentarily caught off guard by your outburst, his brows furrowed in confusion. "Wait, what girl?" He repeated, a hint of bewilderment in his voice.

"The girl that Chaewon and Kazuha saw you making out with a few days ago near campus!" Your words were laced with anger and betrayal, as the memory of his intimate encounter with someone else still stung your heart.

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow in confusion, responding, "What?? I never made out with a girl??" His denial carried a hint of disbelief, as if he couldn’t reconcile your accusation with reality. "You know Kazuha and Chaewon aren’t your real friends, they’re just using you." His words held a warning tone, as if trying to open your eyes to something you had been oblivious to.

Your heart sank at his denial, the conflicting emotions swirling within you. You wanted to believe him, but the image of him with that girl still haunted you. "Why would they lie about something like that?" you questioned, your voice tinged with skepticism and hurt.

Sunghoon sighed, his expression softening as he looked at you directly. "Because they want to cause trouble," he explained, his voice laced with sincerity. "They know our history and they want to stir up jealousy."

Your uncertainty remained evident as you responded, "Okay... But then who's that girl over there?" You pointed out the girl he had been seated with, your gaze full of suspicion and curiosity.

Sunghoon followed your gaze before realization dawned on his face. "Oh, that's my cousin." He clarified, his tone a mix of understanding and surprise. "We were catching up, nothing more, nothing less."

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, feeling somewhat reassured that Sunghoon wasn’t involved with the girl. Your voice turned shy and vulnerable as you asked, "Why'd you hang up yesterday night?" The question lingered in the air, seeking an explanation for his abrupt departure.

Sunghoon hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to the ground before meeting yours once more. His tone was tinged with remorse, his voice softer than before. "I... I didn’t want to take advantage of you while you were drunk," he admitted, his eyes searching yours hopefully for understanding.

You posed a straightforward question, seeking clarity, "So then why did you call me? Why’d you—you know…" The direct inquiry hung in the air, demanding a candid answer.

His gaze held a mixture of guilt and vulnerability as he replied, "Because I missed you... I missed your voice more than anything else. I wanted to hear it, to feel close to you even if it was just for a moment." There was sincerity in his tone, a hint of longing in his words.

You desperately wanted to believe his explanation, but the weight of his absence and avoidance for two years weighed heavily on your mind. Your words held a mixture of hurt and skepticism, "But you left for two years and were avoiding me the first couple of days..." Your statement bore the marks of lingering pain, reflecting your lingering doubts about his intentions.

Sunghoon flinched, the weight of your words clearly affecting him. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture laced with frustration and impatience. "Yes, I was avoiding you," he confessed, his voice tinged with a touch of defensiveness. "because I was terrified of losing control if I saw you again."

The librarian, a stern and strict-looking woman, walked up to them, her eyebrow raised in irritation. "Excuse me, but you two are causing a commotion," she scolded, her voice stern and unwavering. "If you don't quiet down, I'll have to ask you to leave."

Sunghoon nodded, acknowledging the librarian's concerns. "Sorry, ma'am, we'll keep it down," he assured, his tone apologetic. He glanced at you, a silent plea in his eyes for you to comply.

You could sense the urgency in Sunghoon's gaze, his silent plea for calm and compliance. Reluctantly, you swallowed your retort and nodded. "Sorry," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

The librarian's stern expression softened slightly, seemingly satisfied with their response. "Good," she nodded, then glanced around the library, noticing the curious onlookers. "Now, please keep it low, or find someplace else to talk." With that final warning, she returned to her desk, resuming her watchful gaze over the library.

Sunghoon gave you a sidelong glance, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. "Seems we've attracted some unwanted attention," he remarked quietly, the slightest hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

Your voice shook with anger and vulnerability as you protested, "This is not something you can just joke about, Sunghoon.” The pain and frustration were evident in your tone, indicating that his actions had deeply stung your trust.

His smirk faded as he caught the anger and hurt in your voice, realizing the weight of his actions. "I didn't mean it like that," he insisted, his tone softer. "I'm just trying to lighten the mood."

You felt conflicted. On one hand, you were still angry and hurt by his disappearance. On the other hand, his attempt to make light of the situation stirred up conflicting feelings within you. He always had a way of making you simultaneously frustrated and drawn to him.

Sunghoon glanced at the library, noting the watchful eye of the librarian. He knew they wouldn't get a chance to fully talk there without drawing more attention, so he suggested an alternative. "We can't talk here," he stated quietly, his gaze meeting yours. "Why don't you come over to my place?"

A subtle flush of embarrassment crossed your cheeks at his suggestion, the implication of being at his place causing a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "Your...place?" you questioned, a hint of hesitation in your voice.

His response carried a hint of mockery as he retorted, "What? You’ve been there multiple times."

Your cheeks reddened even more at his remark, the memory of your past visits flooding your thoughts. "I know that," you stuttered, your voice betraying your flustered state. "But that was back then."

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, realizing his words had flustered you. "So what? You scared?" he teased, his tone dripping with a hint of playful challenge.

Your eyes narrowed at him, a mixture of annoyance and stubbornness etched across your features. "I’m not scared," you retorted, your voice laced with defiance. "Let’s just go, I don’t have all day."

Sunghoon chuckled, amused by your stubborn attitude. "Okay, tough girl," he teased, falling into step next to you as you headed towards the exit.

The cool air hit your skin as you stepped outside, the sunlight casting a warm glow across the campus. As you walked beside Sunghoon, a mix of emotions swirled inside of you.

There was a faint sense of anxiety, curiosity, nostalgia, and even a hint of excitement at the possibility of getting some answers. The silence between you felt both comfortable and awkward, as if both of you were navigating through uncharted territory once more.

The walk to his place felt both familiar and foreign at the same time. The route, once well-known, now seemed slightly altered, as if time had altered the landscape of the memories that surrounded it.

You tried to push away the thoughts, focusing on the present, yet the weight of the past continued to linger in the air, an invisible presence that followed you both.

As you approached his building, memories flooded your mind—the countless times you had come here, the laughter shared and secrets whispered beneath the roof of his apartment. It was as if the walls held the echo of your shared history, waiting to be stirred by your presence once more.

Sunghoon held the door open for you, gesturing for you to enter first. With a hesitant nod, you stepped inside, finding yourself surrounded by the familiar scent and atmosphere of his place.

The faint aroma of his cologne and the warmth of familiarity engulfed you, stirring up a mix of nostalgia and anticipation.

As you entered the living room, a palpable silence filled the air. It felt as if the room itself held its breath, suspended in the tension between the past and the present.

Sunghoon's footsteps echoed softly as he closed the door behind you, sealing the two of you inside. The sound seemed to amplify the gravity of the moment, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions almost tangible.

You stood there, taking in the quietude, the air between you heavy with anticipation and uncertainty.

The silence stretched on, filling the void with unspoken questions and lingering memories. Sunghoon broke the quiet first, his voice soft and hesitant as he finally spoke. "Wanna have a seat?"

You nodded, your own voice barely perceptible. The room seemed to shrink around you as you followed his gesture, perching yourself on the couch adjacent to the one he chose.

The cushions dipped under your weight, a subtle reminder of the countless moments of comfort shared between you.

As you settled onto the couch, a wave of memories washed over you. The worn fabric, the familiar indentations in the cushions—it felt like time had slipped away, leaving behind echoes of laughter, quiet conversations, and moments of intimacy. You tried to shake off the nostalgia, clearing your throat as you stole a glance at Sunghoon, sitting across from you.

The silence thickened once more, and you could feel his gaze on you. The air felt charged with tension, the weight of the unsaid words and lingering emotions hanging in the space between you. You took a deep breath, mustering the courage to break the silence, but before you could speak, Sunghoon's voice cut through, tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "Can I ask you something?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the vulnerability in his voice, the familiar sound stirring memories you thought you had buried deep within. You swallowed hard, nodding slightly, though you braced yourself for whatever question he was about to ask.

Sunghoon paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts, before finally posing the question that hung heavily in the air. "Do you hate me?" He asked, his voice tinged with a hint of insecurity.

The question struck a nerve, causing a pang of guilt to wash over you. You felt a mixture of defiance and vulnerability rise within you as you replied, your voice laced with a hint of defensiveness. "No. Not Really. What you did was still wrong though. Why? Have I not made that clear to you already? You disappeared for two years, Sunghoon. Two years." Your voice trembled, the pain of his absence evident in your tone.

Sunghoon nodded, his expression tinged with remorse. "I know," he admitted, his voice soft and sincere. "I messed up, big time. I was scared, confused, and I thought disappearing was the easiest way to deal with it at the time." He paused, his eyes locking onto yours, a silent plea for understanding etched across his features.

Your heart softened at his words, a pang of mixed emotions coursing through you. You wanted to be angry, but you couldn't deny the sincerity in his voice. With a sigh, you shifted in your seat, your defenses slowly starting to crumble. "Why were you so scared, then?" You asked, curiosity mixing with the remnants of bitterness in your voice.

Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that revealed his vulnerability. "Because I didn't know if I could control myself around you," he confessed, his voice dropping lower. "I knew how much I still cared about you, how strong my feelings still were. I was terrified that if I saw you again, I would lose control—lose my resolve."

Your heart wrenched at his confession. A mixture of relief and confusion swirled within you. His words both validated and stirred up old emotions. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice as you spoke. "And what about now?" You asked, your voice trembling. "How do you feel now?"

Sunghoon's gaze locked onto yours, his eyes glimmering with sincerity. "I still feel the same way," he admitted, his voice steady yet tinged with vulnerability. "I never stopped caring, never stopped loving you."

You clenched your teeth, frustrated by the emotions swirling within you. "Then why?" You voiced, your tone tinged with a touch of desperation. "Why come back after two years? Why now, Sunghoon?"

Sunghoon tensed, his shoulders visibly stiffening at your question. He could sense the vulnerability in your voice, the desperation for an answer, and it weighed on him.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I came back because I couldn't stay away any longer," he admitted, his voice tinged with remorse. "Being away from you... it was killing me. Seeing you from afar, knowing I could never truly be with you, it broke something inside of me."

You clenched your fists, a mix of pain and frustration rising within you. "Where did you go, Sunghoon?" You asked, your voice trembling. "Where did you disappear to for two years?"

Sunghoon flinched at your question, the weight of it hitting him hard. He could hear the pain in your voice, the desperation for answers. He took a deep breath before finally responding, his voice laced with a mix of guilt and vulnerability. "I went back to Korea."

Your heart skipped a beat, confusion and anger swirling within you. Korea? How could he just up and leave like that, disappear without a word, and then simply return as if nothing had happened?

Your voice trembled as you spoke, the hurt seeping through every word. "Why?" You pushed further. "Why Korea? Why did you choose to flee without a trace?"

Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair again, a nervous gesture that revealed his inner turmoil. His eyes seemed to search for the right words as he spoke, his voice filled with a mix of regret and vulnerability.

"I... I panicked, y/n," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was terrified of losing control, of the feelings I still had for you. I thought if I left, it would be easier..."

Your heart ached at his confession, a mix of hurt and confusion swirling within you. You tried to force back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Easier?" You repeated, your voice trembling. "Easier for whom, Sunghoon? Easier for you?"

Sunghoon's gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet your eyes. He knew the pain and confusion he had caused. "Easier for me..." he admitted softly, his voice tinged with regret.

"I was selfish, y/n. I thought running away would make things easier for me, but I never considered the pain it would cause you. Please, let me make it up to you…”

The sincerity in his voice tugged at your heart, his remorse evident. But you couldn't ignore the anger and hurt that still coursed through you.

"Make it up to me?" You repeated, your voice tinged with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "How? By suddenly appearing in my life again? By expecting me to forgive and forget everything?"

Sunghoon's shoulders slumped, his eyes welling up with tears. "No... I don't expect you to forgive me, y/n," he confessed, his voice heavy with guilt. "What I did was unforgivable. But please, I'm begging you, just give me a chance… to show you how sorry I am, how much I still care about you."

Your heart ached at the sight of his tears, the vulnerability in his voice tugging at the strings that still connected you to him. But the pain and anger were too fresh, too deep. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

"A chance...?" You whispered, your voice trembling. "How can I trust you, Sunghoon? After everything you put me through, how can I trust that you won't just disappear again?"

Sunghoon reached out, his hand almost making contact with yours, but he stopped midway, remembering the boundaries he had created. He swallowed hard, the weight of your words settling heavy on his shoulders.

“You can't…" he admitted softly, his voice laced with pain. "I don't expect you to trust me right away. But please, give me a chance to prove myself, to show you that I'm here to stay."

Your heart ached at his words, the sincerity in his voice both soothing and aggravating. You hated the way he still affected you, the way his presence stirred up feelings you had tried so desperately to bury. Hesitantly, you lifted your gaze to meet his, the vulnerability in his eyes piercing through the barrier you had built around yourself. "And what if I want to trust you?" You asked softly, your voice trembling with a mixture of hope and fear.

Sunghoon's expression softened, a glimmer of hope igniting in his eyes. "Then I would do everything in my power to earn that trust back, y/n, no matter how long it takes," he vowed, his voice tinged with sincerity and determination. “I love you, and I never stopped.”

The raw vulnerability in his voice sent a shockwave through you, stirring a mix of emotions you couldn't ignore.

Your mind warred with your heart, conflicting feelings pulling at you from every direction. "But what about us?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "Can we ever be... what we were before?"

Sunghoon leaned closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "No," he said softly, his voice tinged with honesty. "No, we can't go back to what we were before. We have changed, and so has our relationship. But that doesn't mean we can't build something new, something stronger... something better."

Tears welled up in your eyes, his words both soothing and aggravating. You hated how he could still make you feel so vulnerable, so weak in his presence. "I don't know if I can do this, Sunghoon," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I don't know if I can risk getting hurt again."

Sunghoon's expression softened, a mixture of pain and understanding etched across his features. "I know, y/n," he said softly, his voice tinged with remorse. "I don't blame you for being afraid.

I don't blame you for doubting me, after everything I put you through. But I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. I've learned from my mistakes, and I'm determined to prove that I've changed."

He closed the distance between you, his forehead gently pressing against yours as he murmured, "Let me show you, y/n, let me take care of you right now.." The tenderness in his tone made your heart ache, his fingers gently wiping away the tears that streamed down your face.

Your breath hitched at his touch, the warmth of his forehead against yours both comforting and overwhelming. Your body trembled slightly, the walls you had built around yourself crumbling, as he gently wiped away your tears.

You wanted to resist, to push him away and protect yourself from being hurt again, but the vulnerability in his eyes tugged at something deep within you. "How?" You found yourself whispering, a combination of fear and hope lacing your voice.

Sunghoon's gaze softened, a mixture of vulnerability and desire visible in his eyes. He reached out, his hand gently cupping your face, the gesture sending a wave of warmth through your body. "Let me show you," he murmured, his voice laced with yearning. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly leaned in, his lips softly brushing against yours in a tender kiss.

The touch was like a spark that ignited something deep inside, the weight of their shared history and the lingering chemistry between them undeniable.

As he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, the world seemed to fade into the background. Your heart pounded in your chest, the intensity of the moment overwhelming as your bodies pressed against each other.

Sunghoon's touch trailed down your body, igniting a fire within you that was both familiar and foreign. The kiss continued, a mixture of longing and desperation fueling the connection between them.

His voice trembled with a hint of frustration as he confessed, "I missed your scent so much, y/n, it's infuriating..." His words carried a raw honesty, as if the absence of your presence had deeply affected him.

Your breath caught in your throat, his confession sending a shiver down your spine. The vulnerability in his voice stirred something within you, a pang of sadness mixed with an undeniable connection. "You did?" You whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of surprise and longing.

He pulled back slightly, his fingers gently tracing your jawline as he met your gaze, his eyes filled with sincerity. "I missed everything about you," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of urgency.

"Your laugh, your smile, the way you would bite your lip when you were concentrating, your gentle touch, the way you fit so perfectly into my arms..."

Sunghoon's eyes darkened with desire as he leaned in again, his lips seeking yours in a passionate kiss. His hands slowly began to wander, exploring your body with a fervor that sent electricity through your veins. Without breaking the kiss, his hands slid under your shirt, his touch warm against your skin as he began to gently tug at the fabric, his intention clear.

As the kiss deepened, his hands continued to work, carefully undressing you with an urgency that mirrored the urgency of his feelings. Each piece of clothing fell away, leaving you both vulnerable and exposed yet completely lost in each other.

As the kiss continued, your hands sought him of their own accord, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt, your desire to feel his skin against yours overwhelming any lingering reservations. Your touch was both demanding and possessive, a silent plea for the physical contact you had been deprived of for so long.

He briefly broke the kiss, his lips curving into a small smirk as he felt your hands tugging at his shirt. "Oh? Is someone eager?" he murmured playfully, the hint of teasing in his voice heightening your anticipation as his gaze met yours, a mixture of desire and challenge.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, your eyes meeting his with a mix of impatience and surrender. "Shut up," you retorted, your voice a mixture of embarrassment and desire. "Just take it off already…want it off Hoon.”

A low growl escaped his throat at your words, his hands immediately moving to comply, his own desire fueled by your eagerness. As his shirt slipped off, the sight of his bare chest sent a thrill coursing through you, your eyes drinking in the contours of his muscles, the familiarity of his body both comforting and exhilarating. He leaned back in, his lips capturing yours in a hungry kiss, your hands eagerly exploring the planes of his back.

Every touch intensified the emotions between you, the familiarity of his body igniting memories that fueled the desire coursing through your veins. Between kisses, he murmured, "I missed how you feel... missed everything about you..." His words, laced with the raw honesty of his feelings, only added fuel to the fire, intensifying the need for more contact. He began kissing down your neck, his hands roaming your body with a possessive touch, as if he were trying to reclaim what he had lost.

As his lips trailed downward, leaving a trail of hot kisses along your skin, your body responded eagerly, arching into him, seeking more of his touch and the physical connection that had been absent for so long. With every kiss and every caress, he seemed to unravel something within you, unearthing emotions and desires that you had tried to bury deep.

His mouth eventually trailed lower, a mix of hunger and reverence in his actions. As he moved lower, his hands slid down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, his touch both familiar and yet somehow new, igniting a sense of rediscovery between you. He paused briefly, his gaze locking with yours, wordlessly asking for permission and reassurance before continuing his descent.

Your breath hitched in anticipation, your body responding to every touch and movement, the need for him growing with each passing second. Your hands reached out, tangling in his hair as you gave a subtle nod, granting him the permission he sought. The intensity of the moment hung in the air, the bond between you stretched taut, yearning to be broken and rebuilt in the most intimate way.

As he continued his exploration, his hands gently caressed your skin, his fingers tracing patterns of worship that mirrored the thoughts and emotions swirling within him. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I missed everything about you, how soft your skin is, how responsive you are to every touch..." His words were a mix of praise and reverence, a fervent prayer of appreciation for the body that had stolen his heart.

As he trailed lower still, his lips finding sensitive spots, he murmured between kisses, "I missed the way you taste... the sounds you make when you're lost in pleasure..." His compliments caressed your ears, igniting a fire within you both, the honesty of his words igniting a spark that only heightened your desire for more.

He took his time, exploring you with a mixture of reverence and urgency, his touches both soothing and exhilarating. His lips continued their journey, leaving a trail of kisses and compliments in their wake, each one a reminder of the depth of his affection. "God, I missed how you fit in my arms," he murmured, his voice cracking ever so slightly, "how your body responds to mine...how perfectly you fit against me."

His hands gripped your hips gently, pulling you closer as he leaned down, his breath warm against your skin. "I'll show you how much I missed everything you have to offer..." he whispered, his voice a mix of need and reverence. As he began to trail kisses lower, he murmured, "Starting with this...if you'll let me."

His touch was gentle, yet firm, a reassurance that he was still there, still wanting and needing you. He paused for a moment, looking up at you, waiting for permission, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness. Your breath hitched in anticipation, the need for his touch coursing through you, both comforting and thrilling. With a small nod, you gave your silent assent, your hands instinctively finding their way to his hair, as if to draw him closer, to guide him deeper.

Sunghoon's gaze darkened, his hands moving in a swift, determined motion. In a single, possessive gesture, he reached for the hem of your skirt, pulling it off with a sense of urgency that mirrored the intensity building within him. The sound of it being tossed aside hung in the air, a physical reminder of the boundaries he was breaking, the barriers he was tearing down.

His gaze trailed upwards, taking you in, drinking in every inch of you. You could see the desire and hunger in his eyes, his pupils dilated, his own need mirrored in the way he looked at you, almost possessively. He reached out, fingers gently tracing along your exposed thighs, as if mapping out every curve and line, familiarizing himself all over again.

You could feel the heat of his touch, the way he caressed your thighs with a gentle yet deliberate touch, as if trying to memorize every inch of you all over again. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him, your own desire mirroring his, your body responding as if it remembered every touch, every moment you had shared.

You bit your lip, silently begging for more, your fingers intertwining in his hair, a silent plea to bring him closer. “P-please Hoon..” you whimpered as you bucked your hips up unintentionally.

He could sense the desperation in your voice, the way your body responded to his touch. "So impatient," he murmured, a hint of teasing lacing his words, as his fingers continued to trace patterns along your thighs. "Don't worry, y/n... I won't make you wait too long..." The tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of playfulness and hunger that only fueled the fire burning within you.

There was a moment of stillness as he paused, his hands still resting on your thighs, as if savoring the anticipation that hung in the air. Then, without warning, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending a shiver of anticipation through you.

The moment came. His lips brushed against you, the sensation sending a rush of desire through your veins. You gasped, the heat of his breath against your skin, his hands firm against your thighs, holding you steady. And then he began, his tongue exploring you with a mix of familiarity and reverence.

Each touch was deliberate, as if he was trying to memorize the taste, the texture, the feel of you all over again. Words were lost now, replaced by the sounds of desire and satisfaction that filled the air as he continued, his every movement driving you higher and higher, your senses fully consumed.

Your mouth dropped open as he starts flicking his tongue everywhere, his hands keeping your thighs from closing. Tugging on his hair, you buck your hips up into his face again. “Hoon…Oh god..”

Sunghoon continued to explore you with a fervor that only grew with your every response. He could feel the grip of your fingers in his hair, the way your hips bucked up against him. The sounds of your pleasure only fueled his own desire, his hold on your thighs firm, keeping you right where he wanted you.

At your words, a low groan escaped his throat, sending a new wave of sensation through you, the feeling of his lips and tongue, the vibration from his voice, all mingling and building the blissful tension within you.

You couldn't resist, your body reacting like it had countless times before. Your hips bucked again, your fingers digging into his scalp, the need for release overwhelming. "More…Please…" You pleaded, your voice desperate and pleading.

You could feel him respond, his tongue working harder, more urgent, driving you closer to the edge, each second bringing you closer to the release you so badly needed. “Hoon.. I’m so close..!”

You could feel him respond, his lips and tongue matching your pace, eager to bring you to release, his hands holding you tight, keeping your body where he wanted you. His eyes met yours, a silent promise that he would not stop until he had given you everything you needed. The intensity in his gaze only fueled your desire, your body on the verge of crumbling as he continued to drive you closer to the edge.

His movements were relentless, his tongue flicking in all the right places, hitting the spots that made you moan and gasp, causing you to tug desperately at his hair. Your words came more urgently now, almost a plea, as you teetered on the edge of release. "Hoon..I need you..please..!"

Sunghoon could hear the plea in your voice, the way your body reacted to his every touch, and he knew you were close, right on the precipice of release. There was a moment of pause, a brief respite that only heightened the tension between you. His gaze met yours, his eyes dark with desire, silently asking permission, seeking your consent.

Your eyes pleaded with him, your body trembling with need. "Please, Hoon.." you begged, your voice breathless. He nodded, seemingly understanding your unspoken words. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned in again, redoubling his efforts, his tongue working even harder, faster.

With a possessive grip, he shifted his hands, keeping your hips firmly in place, and as he continued his ministrations with his tongue, he nuzzled his nose into your clit. The added sensation, the feel of his nose alongside his tongue, sent a new wave of pleasure coursing through your core, setting your nerves on fire. The gesture was a claim, a reminder that every part of you was his, and the combination was almost too much to bear.

You could feel the heat building to an almost unbearable level, your body trembling on the brink of release, every fiber of your being focused on the sensations coursing through you. Your grip on his hair became desperate, your nails digging into his scalp as you tugged, as if trying to anchor yourself to the moment. "Hoon…I think I'm gonna...I'm close…" Your words were a plea, a warning that you were on the edge, teetering precariously between ecstasy and release.

He could hear the plea in your voice, the way your body shook beneath his touch, telling him how close you were. Without losing a beat, he doubled down, driving you even closer to the edge, his tongue working faster, harder, with a sense of urgency that mirrored your own.

Your back arched, your hips bucking up into his face, desperate for that final push over the edge. The sensations were too much, overwhelming and all-consuming, and you could feel yourself teetering on the precipice, balancing on the edge of release. You panted, trying to form words, "Please, Hoon…I cumming! Oh fuck—Sunghoon!”

Sunghoon could sense your body reaching its limit, the tension building with every movement, every lick of his tongue. Your body was wound tight, trembling on the precipice. And then, with a final surge, he pushed you over the edge, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you, washing away the remnants of doubt and uncertainty.

Your cries echoed through the room as you cum all over his tongue. He pulled back, out of breath as you could still see your liquids smeared all over his lips. “Taste so good y/n,” he groaned before connecting his lips back onto yours, his bulge pressing against your thigh.

As he kissed you, you could taste yourself on his lips, an intimacy that only heightened the connection between you. The feel of his bulge pressing against your thigh was a reminder of how much he wanted you, of the depth of his desire. You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him closer, as if trying to erase any distance between you.

The feeling of you touching him, palming his clothed rock-hard cock, was electric, making his breath hitch, a subtle sign of the effect you had on him. He groaned against your lips, his hips instinctively thrusting his hips against your touch, seeking more, craving the connection with you.

With that, he seemed to snap, his restraint crumbling, losing the will to hold back any longer. Without breaking the kiss, he swiftly lifted you up, carrying you with relative ease, his arms securely around you, as if he was afraid you would slip away from him again. In a few swift steps, he had you pressed against the wall, his body flush against yours, the intensity of the moment threatening to consume you both whole.

With a gasp, you felt the cold wall against your back, the contrast making your skin break out in goosebumps. You wrapped your legs around him Instinctively, seeking to bring him even closer, your body yearning for more, aching for the connection you had been deprived of for so long.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, your fingers finding purchase in his shirt, pulling him against you, as if you could never get close enough.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing ragged puffs of air against your skin, the warmth igniting a fire within you. His hands traced the curve of your hips, fingers gripping you possessively, as if to ground himself in the reality of the moment. With a low growl, he nipped at your neck, a silent promise that he would reclaim every inch of you, make you his again.

You tilted your neck to the side, giving him more access, a silent plea for him to continue, to make his mark on you, to claim you as his own. "Hoon, please…" You murmured, your voice a mix of desperation and need, your nails digging into the firm flesh of his shoulders. He responded with a low growl, his mouth exploring your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin, marking you, claiming you. “I want it..”

You could feel the intensity of his desire, his body pressed against you, the hard length of him pressed against your core, a reminder of how much he wanted, needed you. "Please, I need you…" You pleaded, your voice a mix of need and desire, your fingers tracing the contours of his back, seeking more, begging for the connection that had been absent for so long. In response, he groaned against your neck, his hands gripping your thighs, hoisting you up higher, pressing himself even closer, as if trying to fuse together.

"God, I need you so badly, how can you drive me this crazy," he muttered, his voice husky with arousal, as he continued to mark you, leaving a trail of bruises down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing against your heated skin, making you shiver. "Please, let me, I can't hold back anymore! I need you inside Hoon!”

The desperation in your voice, the way you pleaded for him, only fueled his desire, his need to have you more urgent than ever. "I need to feel you," He muttered into your neck, nibbling slightly at the sensitive skin, the gesture sending a shiver up your spine. "Please, let me show you how much I missed you."

Your body was overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch, every caress igniting a fire within you, making you ache for more. "Yes, yes, please Hoon," you gasped, the need for him almost unbearable, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. With a low growl, he claimed your mouth in a passionate kiss, his tongue seeking entry, seeking to devour you completely.

He kissed you with a fierce hunger, his hands dropping to the waistband of his joggers, fingers hooking into the fabric. In one swift motion, he pushed his pants down, a silent command that spoke volumes about the extent of his desire for you.

Once the clothing was out of the way, he cupped your thighs, his touch possessive, as he pressed the length of himself against your core, his voice a deep rumble in your ear. "Feel that? How much I want you? How much I wanna ruin your tight little pussy?”

"Yes, Hoon, I feel it," you breathed, your voice ragged with need, your body arching into him. "I want it, please..." Your words were a plea, a desperate cry, the need coursing through your veins, making you ache for him in a way you'd never experienced before.

He could feel your desire, the way your body reacted, the ache for him evident in every movement, every gasping breath. With a low groan, he rocked his hips against you, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through both of you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, murmuring into your ear, "Tell me again, how much you want it, love…"

Your breath hitched as he rolled his hips against you, the sensation driving you wild. "I want it, Hoon, so badly," you gasped.

He could hear the need in your voice, the way you begged for him, it drove him even more wild. "How badly?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble, his lips brushing against your neck.

Your body responded to his touch, your fingers digging into his shoulders, pulling him closer, desperate for more. "So badly, so badly… please," you pleaded, your voice trembling, your body on fire with need.

With a growl, he gave you what you both needed, his hands gripping your thighs as he entered you with a single, firm thrust. "God, love, you feel so good," he groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he started moving inside of you slowly, his hands trailing all over your body. “So perfect y/n.”

The feeling of him inside you, the sensation that both filled you and left you aching for more, made you cling to him, your fingers digging into his skin, desperate for purchase, as you cried out. "Yes, yes, don't stop, please," you pleaded, your words a mix of need and desire as you pulled on his hair, feeling your tits bounce as he pounded into you relentlessly. “You feel so good Hoon!”

Each movement, each thrust was like a spark, igniting a fire within you, burning away all the memories of the past, the doubts, and the fear. He was all that mattered, and you would have him.

He groaned into your neck, his movements growing more frantic with each passing moment, driven wild by the sound of your voice. "Harder? Is that what you want, love?" he breathed, his fingers gripping your thighs, hoisting them up higher as he continued to pound into you, slapping noises filling the room.

Your grip on his shoulders tightened, your voice breaking as you cried out, "Sunghoon—Sunghoon I’m so close! Please…!”

He could hear the desperation in your voice, could feel the way your body tensed, teetering on the edge of oblivion. "Hold on, love," he murmured, his voice ragged with his own need, "cum for me like a good girl, yeah?”

His words were a command, a plea, a promise, and that was all it took for you to release all over his cock. After one final thrust, you feel him gushing into your core. “Fuck,” he groaned, pulling out to see a mixture of both your liquids spilling out of your cunt.

“S-Sunghoon…” you breathed out, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. “Wow…”

He held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, keeping you close. He didn't speak for a moment, just held you as he slowly caught his breath.

Then, after a few moments, he spoke, his voice a low rumble. "Wow indeed," he murmured, a hint of a smile in his voice, his fingers tracing lightly over your back.

"That was…" he trailed off, his breath still ragged, his body trembling slightly with the aftershocks of pleasure. "I missed you so goddamn much," he admitted, the words heavy and heartfelt.

He held you close for a few more moments before pulling back slightly, his gaze still locked with yours. He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle. "Let's go get cleaned up, alright?" he said softly, his voice still a bit ragged, but with a warmth that made your heart flutter. You nodded, and with that, he guided you towards the bathroom, his hand holding yours tightly, as if he never wanted to let go again.

I love this so much

---

belift is fucking crazy and insane!! enha is being sooo overworked like crazy, their schedules are inhumane. they’ve been having comebacks after comebacks, never-ending tours and promos like what the fuck?! the members are suffering so much because of how greedy their company is.

first we saw jay having a knee injury and yet the company made him perform on stage without any proper arrangements. sunghoon having a cold and getting sick often. heeseung being so exhausted that he couldn't even stand properly (for which so many quote ’engenes’ called him lazy and un-professional which is absolutely insane!!!) jake had to sit out from two different stages in their most recent concert and couldn’t even open his eyes when he was present for the other stages. DESPITE all this they’re having another comeback soon!??

the tours seem never ending and it’s been two whole years! this is so terrifying. our boys love making music for us for which we appreciate and support them but at what cost? they’re humans too and i’m sure we all know how horrendously they’re being over-worked and being treated like robots. please demand for a break for them for only we can help them in this.

[ 정원 ] OBLS ꒰ Y.JW x F!READER

IN WHICH ?! — Years after filming a viral documentary in 8th grade, two former enemies get pulled back in front of cameras but for an idol reality show.

genre … smau, fluff n light angst (?) , enemies to lovers, idol!jungwon, idol!reader pairing … idol!jungwon x idol!fem!reader, briefly based off of the kdrama; our beloved summer

warnings … swearing, my horrible humor, ill use photos of haewon for y/n, there’s two parts to this! the first part is the documentary and the second is the idol show ; idol score! this will be half written and half smau!

featuring … haewon of NMIXX as seok y/n, yeri of RED VELVET, gp999 contestants, huening bahiyyih & hikaru of KEP1ER, hueningkai & beomgyu of TXT, yoon, isa, and seeun of STAYC, lee youngji + more!

release date … 07.03.22

status … completed 08.30.22

disclaimer … this is all fictional! the way i write and portray idols in this smau is all fake! jungwon is not like this irl ofc

taglist (CLOSED) . . . @iulrma @jangwonie @lvepsh @mintydayeon @inlovewsimjaeyun @yvesismywife @summercakeluvr @notdrunkbutdazed @koakyuu @shinsou-rii @luviehyck @trsrina @enhacolor @butterflyy-ningg @nctaespasworld @2bbang-hoon

## PROFILES !! — PART ONE — SEOK Y/N’s FUTURE FANCLUB — JUNGWON’s TUTORING SESSION

SET 2018.

001. ranking low | written (770 wrds)

002. celebrity moment | written + smau (826 wrds)

003. first day munchies | written + smau (384 wrds)

004. d4g | written + smau (191 wrds)

005. fancy! yooou! | smau

006. guts | written (240 words)

## PROFILES !! — PART TWO — ZIRA NUMBER ONE — KEEP HEE OUT! — SEOKINTHEHOUSE SUPPORTERS — HEE’s POSSE

SET 2022.

001. CLAIR DE LUNE OUTSOLD | smau

002. mission failed | smau

003. sweet tooth | smau + written (202 wrds)

004. fourth gens pride and joy | smau

005. father of the z-lights | smau

006. idol score! | smau

007. their competitive asses | smau

008. y/n sunbaenim | smau + written (174 wrds)

009. lee vs lee | smau + written (754 wrds)

010. Enemy Interactions | smau

011. plus zira | smau + written (593 wrds)

012. hey gabby | smau

013. seok is def in the house … | smau + written (423 wrds)

014. oh dude he’s flirting | smau

015. newjeans hurt | smau + written (447 wrds)

016. shining won | smau

017. am i privileged ? | smau + written (227 wrds)

018. idol score ogs | smau + written (320 wrds)

019. adopted daughter | smau

020. #YN_OUT | smau

021. jungwons guide to make y/n smile | smau + written (329 wrds)

022. robbed | smau

023. soompi needs a raise | smau

024. the fire that burns inside of me | smau

025. cracking like y/n’s voice | smau

026. the sweet taste of cupcakes (and y/n) | smau + written (486 wrds)

027. birthdays with you | smau

028. life on mars (is hot like you) | smau + written (490 wrds)

029. icloud.com | smau

030. stuck in the hybe maze | smau + written (228 wrds)

031. enzi-sasaeng | smau

032. beloved leaders | smau | finale

SPECIAL CHAPTERS.

001. future is ours | smau | set 2023.

002. jake anti | smau | ashjake special ^3^

003. rise and fall of zira anti | smau | set 2023.

u talk, i listen

summary: you’re loud, dramatic, and one emotional spiral away from a breakdown. he’s quiet, calm, and allergic to unnecessary words. at first, you drive him insane but maybe that’s part of your charm. you make the chaos, and he makes sure you don’t burn the whole world down with it.

genre: fluff | hyper gf x calm bf

characters: sunghoon x f!reader

words: 13k

warnings: none i think!

The first time you met Park Sunghoon, you’re pretty sure he hates you.

To be fair, it was your first day, and Ni-ki—who you knew for exactly ten minutes—told you pressing the green button on the espresso machine would help "wake it up."

It did not.

Instead, it made the machine scream, shoot steamed into your face, and sent you stumbling backward with a noise that sounded suspiciously like a dying goose. A tray of croissants nearly went down with you.

“OH MY GOD—Ni-ki!” a voice shrieked from somewhere near the pastry display.

You coughed, flailed, and possibly cried, when someone silently reached past you and switched the machine off with a flick of his wrist. No words. Just calm, collected competence. The kind that makes you feel even more like a human disaster.

You looked up—and saw him. Park Sunghoon.

He’s quiet. Like, unnervingly quiet. Dressed in black from head to toe with his sleeves rolled just enough to show his veins (rude), and eyes that flick to you once before looking away again. Not a single word. Just a blank expression like you’re a fly he’s choosing not to swat.

“Don’t mind him,” Sunoo said, swooping in with a comforting hand on your shoulder. “That’s Sunghoon. He doesn’t talk much, but he’s not mean. I promise.”

“I didn’t say he was mean,” you muttered, still trying to rearrange the croissants you nearly obliterated.

“You thought it, though,” Sunoo grinned, like he’s already read your soul.

Meanwhile, Ni-ki was cackling in the corner, filming your breakdown for "training purposes."

Sunghoon, still wordless, wiped the steam wand clean, glanced once at the mess you’ve made, then—finally—muttered, “You shouldn’t listen to Ni-ki.”

His voice was soft, low. Dangerous. Like he only spoke when absolutely necessary.

You blinked. “Thanks for the early intel.”

He looked at you again. Longer this time.

And then, he walked away.

No other words. Just disappeared behind the back counter like you were the one who interrupted his day.

“…So anyway!” Sunoo chirped, practically dragging you away, “Let’s get you trained before you break anything else, hmm?”

You glanced back once, just in time to see Sunghoon glance over his shoulder at you.

He looked away first.

And for some reason… that annoyed you.

—

You’d worked four shifts now. Sunoo was basically your fairy godmother, Ni-ki was your unpaid therapist-slash-chaos agent, and Sunghoon?

Sunghoon was still a cardboard box with perfect skin.

He didn’t talk to you unless he had to. Didn’t smile unless he was laughing at something Sunoo said. Didn’t even look at you unless you were actively on fire, and even then, you weren’t sure he’d do more than mildly raise an eyebrow.

Which was extra annoying because somehow he was also weirdly funny. When he talked to Ni-ki or Sunoo, he’d drop the driest one-liners out of nowhere, and suddenly everyone was on the floor laughing. You tried to talk to him? Nothing. Crickets. Maybe a blink, if you were lucky.

You were cleaning the counter one evening when you caught him saying something to Ni-ki, low and casual, and Ni-ki absolutely lost it.

“Okay, that was actually good,” Sunoo wheezed. “Where was that energy earlier when she knocked over the milk?”

“She was already dying,” Sunghoon replied. “Didn’t need to bury her.”

Your head snapped up. “Excuse me?!”

He looked at you, slow and lazy, like he was surprised you heard. “It’s a compliment.”

“How is that a compliment?”

He shrugged. “You’re resilient.”

You stared. “I—what—resilient?! I tripped over my own shoelace!”

“I noticed.”

Sunoo clapped a hand over his mouth like he was about to implode.

You blinked at Sunghoon. He blinked back.

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re so—”

He lifted a brow. “You’re loud.”

You opened your mouth, but Sunoo threw an arm around your shoulders like he was trying to defuse a bomb.

“Okayyy! Let’s all take a breath,” he sang. “Some of us process friendship through gentle banter and others process it by… doing whatever it is Sunghoon does... verbal sparring?”

“I’m not sparring,” Sunghoon said, already walking away.

You glared at his back. “You never spar. You just vanish.”

“Exactly,” he called over his shoulder.

You looked at Sunoo. “I don’t get him.”

Sunoo just smiled. “You will.”

You really thought you wouldn’t—until God bestowed upon you a tragic prophecy, disguised as the café schedule for the following week.

Mon–Fri Closing Shift (5PM–11PM): YOU + SUNGHOON

You stared and blinked, rubbed your eyes, tried processing.

Sunghoon saw it at the same time you did.

“…No,” he said flatly.

You crossed your arms. “Wow. Good to see you too.”

“Sunoo,” he called toward the kitchen. “Switch me. Please.”

“Nope!” Sunoo’s voice floated back. “You’ll thank me later!”

You both stared at the schedule like it had personally offended you. Then—slowly—at each other.

This was going to be a long week.

—

Monday was… quiet.

You tried to make conversation—about the playlist, the new coffee beans, even the weather—but Sunghoon gave you absolutely nothing. Just a few nods and hums, like you were a podcast playing in the background.

You swore he spent more time restocking stirrers than actually speaking to you.

You huffed under your breath, finding him impossible to work with. The shift felt ten hours longer than it actually was, and you were convinced the silence was slowly killing your soul.

As the evening dragged on, you caught him sitting at the back counter, pulling out a laptop in between cleaning duties. You tried not to be nosy—but it was hard not to peek.

Tabs upon tabs of schoolwork were open on his screen—assignments, lecture slides, even a color-coded spreadsheet. You blinked. Huh. Sunghoon was more hardworking than you’d expected. You thought he was just the type to show up, do his job, and disappear back into the void—but here he was, typing away like the shift never even ended.

You munched on your dinner, a sad slice of pizza you grabbed from down the street during your break. The cheese had hardened and the crust was borderline cardboard, but it was food. You leaned against the counter, chewing quietly, when you realized—

Sunghoon hadn’t eaten anything. Not since the two of you started at five.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, fingers tapping against his keyboard, face unreadable in the glow of his screen.

You opened your mouth. “Hey, do you—” But you stopped yourself. Closed it again.

He’d probably just get annoyed. Or say no in that flat, disinterested way of his. And then you’d feel stupid. Still, you kept glancing over at him, stealing quick looks in between bites. At one point, you noticed his hands pressing lightly against his stomach, like he was trying to ignore it. His expression didn’t change, but the movement said enough.

He was probably hungry. You looked down at the last bite of pizza in your hand and sighed.

Tuesday, you decided, would be different.

Tuesday, you showed up with an extra sandwich from the convenience store.

You didn’t say anything. Just slid it across the counter around 7PM, because the night before, he hadn’t eaten dinner and you weren’t about to let him pass out mid-espresso pull.

He stared at the sandwich. Then at you.

You raised a brow. “You didn’t eat yesterday.”

He blinked. “…Okay.”

“You’re welcome.”

You didn’t hear a thank you. But he didn’t give it back either.

Progress.

Wednesday, there was a cup of noodles in your locker.

Just sitting there. No note. No explanation. Just… sitting.

You marched up to Sunghoon, holding it in your hands like evidence. “Did you put this in my locker?”

He looked at the cup noodle. Then at you. Then blinked, deadpan. “…No.”

“Really.”

He shrugged.

You squinted at him.

He walked away.

You were this close to launching the noodle at the back of his head. Instead, you ate it. And maybe smiled. A little.

Thursday, you both brought each other dinner. At the same time.

You froze at the counter, holding out your plastic bag just as he set his down.

“…I got you something,” you said.

He stared at your bag. Then gestured to his. “So did I.”

You glanced at each other, at the food, and then away.

“Thanks,” you muttered.

He nodded. “Mm.”

You caught the tiniest tug at the corner of his mouth as he turned around.

You smiled too. But only when he wasn’t looking.

Friday, you didn’t expect anything. You were restocking the fridge when you heard it:

“Hey.”

You turned around, startled. “What?”

Sunghoon was standing there, one hand on the fridge door, the other in his pocket. His voice was quiet, like he was testing it out on you for the first time.

“I—uh,” he started, eyes flicking to yours, then away. “You always wear that hair clip. The pink one. With the sparkles.”

You blinked. “Yeah?”

He nodded slowly. “I thought it was dumb at first.”

“Okay…?”

“But now it’s kinda…” He paused, scratched the back of his neck. “I dunno. Cute, I guess.”

You stared at him.

“Forget it,” he muttered, moving past you.

“No wait,” you said, stepping into his path, a slow grin spreading across your face. “Did you just say I’m cute?”

He didn’t look at you. “I said the clip is cute.”

“That I’m wearing.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“Sunghoon thinks I’m cute~” you sang, spinning in a circle while he groaned and walked away.

But you caught it—right before he turned around completely.

The smile. The real one.

And for the first time all week, you were pretty sure… he might have liked you back.

The silence didn’t feel heavy anymore. It wasn’t awkward. Just quiet. Comfortable. Like a pause instead of a wall.

You were sweeping. He was mopping. The usual end-of-shift rhythm. You hummed a song under your breath—something from the café playlist that had been looping for hours. He didn’t comment on it this time. Just kept mopping in sync with you.

The air smelled like cleaning solution and vanilla syrup. The lights were dimmed to their soft closing hour glow. Outside, the city buzzed quietly under the street lamps.

Then you heard it—his voice. Low. Careful.

“I hear you’re starting college soon.”

You blinked, glancing up from your broom. He wasn’t looking at you, just focusing on a coffee stain near the back corner of the café.

“Yeah,” you said. “Orientation’s next week.”

He nodded once. “Same.”

You stopped sweeping. “Wait—seriously?”

He nodded again, this time glancing at you. “Business major?”

“Yeah. Are you—”

“Same.”

You stared. “You’re kidding.”

He shook his head, mouth twitching like he couldn’t believe it either. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

You couldn’t help it—you grinned. “Wow. And I thought this week was the end of my suffering.”

He smirked, just a little. “Mutual, believe me.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks felt warm. “This is gonna be weird.”

“Probably.”

You leaned against your broom, tilting your head. “What if we get put in the same class?”

“I’ll transfer out.”

You laughed. Actually laughed. And the look on his face softened in that tiny, quiet way he did sometimes—like a blink-and-you-miss-it moment of fondness.

“So,” you said, brushing past him on your way to put the broom away, “does this mean we’re friends now?”

He paused. Looked at you.

Then—“You’re loud.”

You turned around, walking backward. “Not a no~”

He rolled his eyes. But he didn’t say no.

—

Your first day of college started in a lecture theatre that looked like it belonged in a movie.

Wide rows of tiered seats. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A massive screen at the front welcoming new students with a generic but oddly comforting "Welcome, Future Leaders!" banner.

You slid into a seat at the back row, instinctively avoiding the eager clusters forming near the front. It was still early, and the place buzzed with chatter, nerves, and the rustle of free tote bags and pamphlets.

You opened one of the pamphlets a student ambassador had handed you earlier and scanned it while sipping on the last of your bottled tea. Campus map. Co-curricular activities. After-school programmes. There was even a flowchart on how to balance academic and personal development. It was cheesy, but a part of you—the part that studied like hell to get here—felt… proud. You belonged here. You were surrounded by people who cared just as much as you did.

You let out a small sigh, the kind that came from contentment, then finally looked up—

And blinked.

Sunghoon was walking toward you.

Brown coat sweeping behind him. A scarf looped casually around his neck. Glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, framing his face in a way that made him look straight out of a campus brochure. He carried two cups of coffee in one hand, the sleeves of his coat pushed just enough to reveal the band of his watch.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just placed one of the cups in front of you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You stared at it. Then at him.

“…You stalking me now?”

Sunghoon raised a brow. “You’re sitting in the back row. That’s the least stalkable seat.”

“Mm,” you hummed, smirking as you took the coffee anyway. “So you do want to be friends.”

He slid into the seat beside you. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” You raised the cup. “Acts of service. Love language. I’m flattered.”

He gave you a look. “It’s just coffee.”

“And glasses,” you added, gesturing to his face. “You’re really committing to the college-boy aesthetic, huh? Next you’re gonna pull out a book of poetry.”

He rolled his eyes, but you didn’t miss the way his lip twitched like he was holding back a smile. “You’re annoying.”

You took a sip. It was warm. Slightly sweet. Exactly how you liked it.

“And yet,” you said, nudging his arm with your elbow, “here you are.”

He didn’t answer. Just looked ahead at the empty podium, his fingers wrapped around his own cup. But his shoulder stayed against yours—light, steady, unbothered.

And you… didn’t move away.

Then, the two of you were a part of a routine.

Ever since you both found out you were classmates, Sunghoon would wait in the apartment lobby every morning with a drink in hand—tea or coffee, depending on how late you texted him the night before.

Before 12AM? Chamomile. After 12? Iced latte, extra pumps of vanilla. No questions asked.

It had been a whole month of college, and while you were still adjusting, you were glad you had Sunghoon. (More like—Sunghoon was glad he had you.)

You were outgoing. People liked you, drawn in by your energy. Sure, you could be shy at first, but once you warmed up, you were easily the heart of any group. Loud. Expressive. A little dramatic. And though Sunghoon called you irritating more times than you could count, he couldn’t deny it was part of your charm.

Part of why he noticed you in the first place.

Now here you were—walking side by side, warm drink in hand, on your way to your first class of the day. You were mid-story about something ridiculous your professor said in a group chat. Sunghoon just walked quietly beside you, listening.

And somehow, that felt like the best part of your morning.

You were walking across the quad with Sunghoon, your cup in one hand, rambling about something dumb from class when a football came flying almost knocking you out.

A second later, a tall guy sprinted into your path, trying to catch it—and collided right into you.

You gasped, stumbling back, but before you could even register what happened, Sunghoon had already pulled you aside, his hand wrapping firmly around your arm, shielding you behind him.

“Shit—sorry!” the guy said, breathless, catching the ball. His cap was turned backwards, and strands of his hair stuck to his forehead from running. He looked at you, eyes wide. “You okay?”

You nodded, eyes locking with his.

He smiled.

And for a moment, your heart stuttered.

He was cute. Really cute. Sharp jaw, dimpled grin, that kind of effortless charm that made you forget what you were saying.

“I—uh, yeah. All good,” you mumbled.

Sunghoon’s hand slowly dropped from your arm. You didn’t notice. You were still looking at Yeonjun.

He looked at you too. “I’m Yeonjun, by the way.”

You smiled, just a little. “Nice to meet you.”

Sunghoon stood still beside you, silent as ever.

But he saw it.

The look. The smile. The way you laughed, a little softer than usual. The way Yeonjun’s eyes lingered when he handed you back the drink you almost dropped.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything.

He just looked away.

—

Yeonjun showed up at the café on a Friday afternoon, all sunshine and charm, and you were too busy juggling orders to notice him at first—until he waved from the counter with that same boyish smile.

Your eyes lit up. “Oh my god—hey!”

He leaned over casually, glancing at the menu. “Didn’t know you worked here. I guess I’ll have to stop by more often.”

Meanwhile, across the room, Sunghoon sat at a corner table with a textbook open in front of him and an untouched iced americano beside it. According to him, he was there to study. According to Sunoo, he was there to “keep an eye out for Selenur.” (Sunoo’s thoughtful codename for you, since he was very sure Sunghoon had a “thing” for you)

Sunghoon told him to shut up.

Now, he watched silently as you and Yeonjun exchanged numbers, your head tilted toward the screen, smile wide. He saw Yeonjun grin, say something that made you laugh, and hand you his phone.

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened.

Not my problem, he told himself, eyes flicking back to his textbook. Not. My. Problem.

You walked over seconds later, practically skipping, still holding your phone like it was made of gold. “Can you believe it? He asked me out!”

Sunghoon didn’t look up.

You slid into the seat across from him anyway, hitting his arm repeatedly with giddy little slaps. “Sunghoon. He asked. Me. Out!”

He sighed, finally meeting your eyes. “Stop hitting me.”

“Sorry,” you giggled, not sorry at all. “I’m just excited!”

He watched you bounce in your seat, hair bouncing with you, eyes sparkling like you just won the lottery. He hated to admit how adorable you looked when you were like this. But he had a reputation. And emotions. And he was firmly committed to ignoring both.

Still. Something didn’t sit right.

Sunghoon had done a little digging after the football incident. Nothing crazy. Just… a casual scroll through Instagram. And maybe a few archived posts. Some comments. A look at mutuals. Purely for research.

Yeonjun was a third-year business major. A senior. Popular. Handsome. And according to a few posts Sunghoon definitely did not save—someone who changed girlfriends like he changed outfits.

He didn’t like it.

He didn’t like him.

Not for you.

But what did he know?

He looked down, turning a page in his textbook. Not my problem, he chanted in his head.

Definitely not.

—

Sunghoon stood in the apartment lobby, one hand tucked in his coat pocket, the other holding your usual coffee order. He checked his phone for the time, glanced toward the elevator—then froze.

You stepped out, smile already bright, your phone in one hand and the hem of your dress held lightly in the other. It was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen you wear—soft fabric that fell just above your knees, cinched slightly at the waist, the color making your skin glow. Your hair was styled, subtle makeup dusted across your cheeks, and your lips were curved in that effortless way that made it suddenly very hard to breathe.

You looked… gorgeous.

His heart did something stupid in his chest, but he quickly cleared his throat and looked away, pretending to be fascinated by the vending machine.

“How do I look?” you asked, voice playful.

He didn’t meet your eyes. “The same,” he muttered.

“Oh,” you said quietly. “Do I?”

You sighed, and he heard the disappointment in it—saw the way your shoulders dropped just slightly.

Guilt hit him instantly.

“In a good way,” he added quickly, almost too quickly.

You blinked. “Huh?”

He finally looked at you, then down at the coffee he was still holding. “You look… pretty today.”

He cleared his throat and shoved the cup toward you before you could say anything else. Then he turned and started walking first, trying to escape the inevitable teasing.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, you smiled behind your cup and jogged up to walk beside him.

“Why are you dressed like that?” he asked after a few beats of silence.

“My date with Yeonjun’s today,” you said with a grin.

His step faltered for a split second. “You like him that much?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know about like, but… it’s just—I’ve never been asked out before.”

You tilted your head as you said it, your voice soft. Honest.

Sunghoon frowned. “I’m surprised.”

“What’s so surprising?” you laughed. “You’ve met me. Everyone’s either calling me loud or annoying.”

“Isn’t that what’s so charming about you?”

The words slipped out before he could stop them.

You turned to him, eyes wide, mouth parting. “Did you just—compliment me?”

“No,” he said immediately, gaze fixed ahead like it never happened.

You didn’t press it.

You just smiled again, even softer this time, and walked beside him like nothing had changed.

But for Sunghoon… everything had.

—-

The date started off… nice. Not mind-blowing. Not movie-level magical. But nice.

Yeonjun took you to a rooftop café near campus—fairy lights strung across the ceiling, soft music humming under the chatter. He pulled your chair out like a gentleman, complimented your dress, and told you you looked beautiful in the golden hour light. You laughed, cheeks warm, nerves fluttering. You weren’t used to this. To being seen.

“You know,” he said between sips of his coffee, “I heard you got into the business faculty because of some competition?”

You nodded, a little surprised. “Yeah. The Young Entrepreneurs’ thing in my final year.”

“That’s so impressive,” he said, leaning forward with a glint in his eye. “You must have had a really solid proposal. What was it about?”

You blinked. “Um… a sustainable student-run café model. With profit-sharing incentives and local sourcing.”

Yeonjun’s smile widened. “That’s genius. Seriously. Are you using it for any of your current modules?”

You hesitated. “Well… sort of. I’m reworking the model for this semester’s proposal project.”

He nodded slowly. “Wow. You must be at the top of your class already.”

There was a pause. You tried to smile, but something twisted in your gut. He kept asking—about the proposal, your outline, your ideas. Details most people would only bring up if they were in your group, or at least interested in the topic.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom. The second the door closed behind you, you leaned against the sink, staring at yourself in the mirror. Something about this didn’t feel right. You couldn’t place it, but the way he kept circling back to your work felt… off.

When you returned, Yeonjun was all smiles again. Charming. Sweet. As if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just gently interrogated you for thirty minutes under the glow of fairy lights.

You tried to shake it off.

The next day, your phone stayed quiet. And the day after that. And the one after that, too.

No texts. No calls. No explanation.

Yeonjun ghosted you. Completely. Like the date never happened. Like you never happened.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. That it wasn’t like you were in love with him. That it was just one date. One boy.

But it still stung.

It wasn’t about Yeonjun, not really. It was about what it made you wonder.

Maybe you were hard to like. Maybe you were too loud. Or too awkward. Maybe you talked too much, or didn’t say the right things. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Or cool enough. Or quiet enough.

He smiled at you. Told you you were smart. Sweet. Pretty. And still—he left. Without a word.

And it made you wonder if all the things people always said about you were true. If deep down, you were too much of everything… and not enough of anything.

You didn’t even like Yeonjun like that, not really. But being left behind like you didn’t matter—that part hurt more than you'd ever admit out loud.

Especially when all you did was try to be yourself.

Then came the worst part.

You were working on a different assignment, digging through your laptop for a reference doc when you realized… your final business proposal was gone.

Completely gone.

You stared at the empty folder for a long, frozen second. Then searched again. And again. You turned the whole desktop inside out, but the file wasn’t there.

Panic bloomed in your chest. You didn’t delete it. You never would.

Desperate, you made your way to the engineering block where your friend Heeseung was camped out, headphones around his neck and an energy drink half-empty beside him.

You dropped beside him and wordlessly shoved your laptop in front of him.

“I think my file’s gone,” you muttered. “Like—gone gone.”

Heeseung frowned, pulling the laptop toward him. Fingers flying across the keyboard. You sat still, breath caught in your throat.

After a few minutes, he leaned back in his chair.

“It says here your laptop’s last file access was through a thumbdrive. Someone plugged one in, moved your business proposal, then took it out.”

You stared at him.

“What?” you said. Your voice barely above a whisper.

He clicked again, tilting the screen. “Time stamp says it happened the day before yesterday. Around 8:42 PM.”

Your mind flicked back.

Yeonjun. That was the night of your date.

No. No way. He wouldn’t— He couldn’t—

But the timing fit. The questions. The ghosting.

No. No fucking way.

—

You were pissed.

You wiped the counters with a little too much force, angrily scrubbing at invisible stains like they personally betrayed you. The blender hadn’t even been used today, but you cleaned it twice. You huffed. You sighed. You muttered curses under your breath while flinging dishrags and slamming cabinet doors just a bit harder than necessary.

Sunghoon stood at the sink, quietly washing mugs like you were a rabid animal he didn’t want to startle.

“I—” he started.

You grunted.

“You—”

You sighed.

He blinked. You hadn’t let him get out a full sentence all shift. At this point, you were acting like him, and he was the one trying to initiate conversation.

It was terrifying.

Thirty minutes of silence passed before you finally spoke.

“You know what I hate about men?”

Sunghoon froze mid-dry. He glanced down at his own very male hands. Great. He was framed by default.

“You people,” you said, voice rising, “and your terrible innate sense of justice.”

You slammed the rag down onto the counter. “Stealing a person’s work? Pfft. How stupid do you have to fucking be?!”

Sunghoon stayed quiet, lips pressed into a thin line. He had no idea what you were going on about—only that your date with Yeonjun clearly didn’t go well.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you waved a wet dishcloth in his face like a white flag of fury.

“And you know what else?” you went on, eyes blazing. “You people are just little gremlins who take. And take. And take.”

You let out another heavy sigh, leaning against the counter like you were carrying the weight of all modern betrayal.

“And for what?!”

Your voice hit a pitch so sharp that Sunghoon actually flinched. He snapped upright like you’d physically struck him.

“I’m guessing the date didn’t go so well?” he offered carefully.

“He stole my business proposal.”

Sunghoon paused. “…What do you mean?”

You exhaled through your nose like a dragon mid-breakdown, pacing the space behind the counter as you told him everything. The date. The weird questions. The missing file. The thumb drive. Heeseung’s diagnosis. The awful, dawning realization.

By the time you were finished, Sunghoon just stood there—speechless. Stunned.

“He’s an… asshole,” he said finally, slow and deliberate, like he needed to taste each word before letting it out.

“Yuhuh,” you mumbled, flopping into the stool behind the register and dragging your hands down your face. “What am I gonna do? The deadline’s on Friday. I spent two weeks on that thing. I’m screwed.”

Sunghoon reached for the industrial bag of coffee beans under the counter, tearing it open like this was a normal Tuesday. “Well, it’s not like you can sneak into his house and steal his laptop back.”

You froze.

“…Come again?”

Sunghoon paused, one hand still buried in the bag. “No. That was just a comment. Not an idea.”

“But a good one.” You turned toward him slowly, a little too bright. A little too smiley.

He narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“You have to help me.”

“Why me?!”

“Because you gave me the idea!”

Sunghoon sighed. Loudly. Dramatically. Like he already knew he was going to give in but had to fight for the sake of his pride.

“You’re lucky I don’t believe in karma,” he muttered.

You grinned, victory written all over your face. “So that’s a yes?”

—

It was 3:07AM when Sunghoon found himself walking through a quiet residential street, questioning every decision that had brought him to this point.

The address you’d sent him earlier lit up on his screen. He shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets, exhaling into the chilly night, when—

“Psst!”

He turned his head toward a cluster of trees—and nearly jumped out of his skin.

You were crouched behind a bush, donned in an all-black ensemble: black beanie, oversized black hoodie, black jeans, and…

“Slippers?” he blinked.

You grinned, proud. “I see you noticed the vibe. I’m dressed up as a burglar.”

Sunghoon stared. “…Isn’t that a little on the nose?”

“Isn’t it cute?” you whispered, excited. “I got it all on sale just now.”

“At what? A Target for burglars?”

You swatted his chest with the back of your hand, ignoring the way he flinched with a low sigh.

“There,” you said, pointing toward the modest two-story house across the street. “That’s his house.”

“Okay, and what’s your—” You swat him again.

“Our plan?” he corrected, exasperated.

You beamed. “Glad you asked. See that room on the second floor? With the string lights and the cracked window?”

He squinted. “Yeah?”

“My intel says that’s his room.”

“…Your intel. You mean, Sunoo?”

“Yes.” You wiggled your brows mysteriously before turning serious. “So. We put up the ladder. I climb. I sneak in. I get the laptop. We disappear.”

“You’re actually insane for this,” he muttered under his breath.

You ignored him, eyes locked on the prize. “The windows are open, and I made sure he’s distracted tonight.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “How exactly?”

“I texted him from a fake number pretending to be a girl he ghosted last semester. He’s currently having a breakdown about his ‘reputation.’ I give us twenty minutes.”

He stared at you like you’d grown a second head.

And then he sighed. Deep. Long. Existential.

Is this worth it? He thought to himself.

He glanced down at you again—eyes full of unhinged determination, your hoodie sleeves bunched at your wrists, that tiny pout on your lips as you tried to judge the ladder distance.

God. You looked ridiculous. And cute.

So yeah. It was worth it.

“…Let’s do this,” he said.

You grinned like the gremlin you were. “I knew you liked me.”

He rolled his eyes, cheeks just a little too warm. “Regretting this already.”

But he followed you anyway.

—

You set the ladder against the side of the house like you’d done this before. Sunghoon, meanwhile, stood beside it with the stiff posture of someone definitely not okay with committing a crime at 3:15AM.

You looked back at him. “Hold it steady, okay?”

“Just… for the record,” he muttered, “this is breaking and entering.”

“I prefer the term justice retrieval.”

He sighed so hard you thought his soul left his body. “Just don’t fall and die. Please.”

You winked. “Aw, you care.”

“No, I just don’t want to explain to the police why you’re dressed like a criminal and wearing slippers.”

You began to climb.

The first few steps were fine—until one of your slippers nearly slipped right off.

“Oh, fuck—” you hissed, gripping the ladder.

“Do you need to wear those?” Sunghoon whisper-yelled from below, clutching the base of the ladder like his life depended on it.

“They’re comfy!”

“They’re a hazard.”

You ignored him, determined, as you reached the second-floor window. The breeze fluttered through the half-open pane, moonlight pooling gently across Yeonjun’s empty room. His laptop sat on the desk, closed. Glowing faintly.

Target acquired.

You carefully pushed the window open wider and swung one leg through.

Sunghoon watched from below, jaw tight, muttering to himself like a man saying his last prayers. “This is how I go down. Helping a girl in bunny slippers commit theft.”

You managed to slide inside without knocking anything over. Heart pounding. Hands slightly shaking.

You tiptoed across the carpet, grabbed the laptop, and slipped it into your drawstring bag like the world's most underqualified spy.

You were halfway back out the window when—

“HEY! WHO’S THERE?!”

A voice rang out from somewhere downstairs.

Your eyes widened. You turned to look down at Sunghoon, who was still grabbing the bottom of the ladder.

“Go, go, go—!” you whispered harshly.

You clambered down the ladder as fast as you could, nearly taking Sunghoon out as you reached the bottom. He caught your wrist before you could stumble, pulling you into a sprint without a word.

Your feet pounded against the pavement—slippers slapping, bag bouncing, hearts racing. Behind you, a door slammed open.

“HEY!” Yeonjun’s voice echoed into the street.

Sunghoon didn’t slow down. “Left!” he hissed.

You turned sharply, ducking into a narrow alley between two quiet apartment buildings. The shadows swallowed you both instantly.

“Over here—quick,” he muttered, yanking you behind a large trash bin and squeezing into the tight space beside you. It was small. Barely enough for one person, let alone two.

You pressed your back to the wall, chest heaving, adrenaline thrumming in your ears.

Sunghoon’s face was too close. Way too close.

You turned to whisper something, only to notice the way his profile was still partially visible, his cheek nearly poking out past the safety of the shadow. Panic surged through you as Yeonjun’s footsteps grew louder.

Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed Sunghoon’s face—gentle but urgent—and pulled him toward you, forcing him deeper into the corner.

He blinked, startled, his hands landing on either side of you to steady himself.

And suddenly—everything stopped.

His breath hit yours. Warm. Shaky. His nose nearly brushing yours. Your fingertips still on his cheek. You could feel the heat rising between your bodies, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

You were so focused on listening for footsteps that you didn’t notice the way he was looking at you.

His eyes were locked on yours, soft and unblinking. Like you were something precious. Something fragile. Something he wasn’t supposed to want but couldn’t help reaching for.

But then—he cleared his throat.

You blinked, still slightly dazed, and smiled—completely unaware of how close you were until you finally pulled away.

He stepped back the moment you did.

You laughed, breathless, heart still sprinting inside your chest. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“I can’t believe you dragged me into it,” he said, grinning despite himself.

Your laughter echoed down the alley, light and free and bubbling with triumph.

And even as the moment passed, and the footsteps faded, and you both stumbled back out into the quiet night—

Sunghoon couldn’t stop thinking about how your hands had felt on his skin.

—

Sunghoon unlocked the door and stepped into the apartment as if nothing about the situation was even remotely unusual. You followed close behind, hoodie pulled low over your head, black beanie snug, sleeves covering your hands, and—most incriminating of all—a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers completing the look. If anyone had seen you on the way over, they might’ve called the cops.

Inside, the living room was dimly lit, the glow of the TV casting flickering light across Jake and his girlfriend, who were curled up under a blanket, halfway through a rom-com rerun and clearly deep into their peaceful little couple night. That peace shattered the moment Jake looked up and saw you.

He froze with a chip halfway to his mouth. His girlfriend stiffened beside him. Their gazes locked on your all-black ensemble, eyes trailing from your hoodie to your slippers, as if unsure whether to scream, laugh, or call for help.

“Sunghoon,” Jake said slowly, narrowing his eyes. “Why is there a burglar in our house?”

You smiled brightly, completely unfazed. “Hi!”

Jake blinked, turning to Sunghoon for confirmation. Sunghoon simply sighed, kicked his shoes off, and muttered under his breath, “Not how I wanted you to meet her.”

“You brought her to the house,” Jake said, still staring. “At 3 a.m. Dressed like that.”

You shrugged, strolling toward the desk and pulling Yeonjun’s laptop from your drawstring bag. “We’re breaking into a computer, not the house. Totally different vibe.”

Jake’s girlfriend leaned forward. “Are those bunny slippers?”

You nodded proudly. “They’re for stealth.”

“Right,” she said, blinking. “Very… quiet.”

Sunghoon dropped his keys on the table with a sigh, already preparing himself for the chaos about to unfold.

“She’s trying to hack into a guy’s laptop,” he said, walking to the kitchen like he needed caffeine and therapy at once. “Don’t ask.”

“Why are you helping her?!” Jake asked, scandalized.

Sunghoon opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. “I’m not.”

“You literally held the ladder for me twenty minutes ago,” you called over your shoulder.

Jake choked. “Ladder? What ladder?!”

You turned around, laptop booted up, the login screen glowing faintly. “The one I used to climb through a second-story window.”

Jake gaped. His girlfriend quietly set the chip bag down, her expression somewhere between horrified and fascinated.

“I love her,” she whispered to Jake.

“I fear her,” Jake whispered back.

Sunghoon leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. He looked at you—messy hair peeking out from under your beanie, eyes focused, face lit by the laptop screen. Completely unbothered by the scene you’d walked into.

And for some reason, despite all the madness, he still thought you looked kind of cute.

“God help us all,” Sunghoon muttered.

By the time you cracked into the laptop, Jake and his girlfriend had already retreated into their bedroom. Sunghoon had closed the door behind them with a roll of his eyes and a muttered, “That’s just code for they’re about to smash, so we should probably play some music or something.”

You’d snorted at the time, but now the silence in the room felt heavy.

The soft hum of the laptop was the only sound between you, sitting shoulder to shoulder on the floor next to Sunghoon’s desk. He sat beside you, legs stretched out, arms loosely folded, eyes flicking over the screen with quiet interest—until he glanced at your expression and realized you’d stopped scrolling.

“What is it?” he asked.

You didn’t answer.

Your eyes were fixed on the folder open in front of you. Document after document lined the screen, all titled neatly with class names and—oddly—names. Different ones.

Mina. Elly. Jisoo. Grace.

And then… your name.

You clicked on it. Your proposal opened, just slightly reworded, your diagrams rearranged—but it was yours. Every piece of it.

You stared at the screen and crossed your arms tightly, a cold knot settling in your chest. The adrenaline was gone now. In its place was something much heavier. You felt small. Humiliated.

“I was just another one,” you muttered.

Sunghoon looked over, brows drawing together.

“Just another girl he got close to for an assignment,” you said, voice flat. “Was I that boring? That forgettable? Was I really so—unlikable—that the only time a guy showed me attention, it was because he needed my fucking work?”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head as the words tumbled out, unfiltered. “God. What is wrong with me? What did I think was gonna happen? That someone like him actually liked someone like me?”

You let your arms drop and folded your hands over your face, pressing your palms into your eyes.

“I’m so stupid,” you whispered.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything at first. He just sat beside you, close but not touching, eyes fixed on the floor like he was trying to figure out the right thing to say and coming up completely empty.

You wiped at your face with the back of your sleeve, but it was no use—your mascara had already betrayed you, running in streaks down your cheeks. You were crying harder than you realized, tears silent but relentless.

You turned to him, half-laughing, half-sobbing. “So you’re just gonna stay quiet?”

He looked up, startled. His gaze met yours, and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. You looked—God, you looked like a mess. Eyes red, lashes damp, your hoodie sleeves pushed up unevenly, and cheeks stained with tears.

And somehow, he thought you’d never looked prettier.

You weren’t pretending. Weren’t smiling for the sake of others or hiding behind jokes. You were just… you. Raw and hurting and real.

He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “What do you want me to say? I’m not good at comforting people.”

“I don’t know,” you sniffled. “Say he’s an asshole or something.”

Sunghoon shrugged a little. “Well, he is.”

You looked at him, still waiting, unsure if that was all he had in him. He looked like he was about to say more, and then—he did.

“He is an asshole,” Sunghoon repeated, louder this time. “I don’t know why you even agreed to go out with him.”

You opened your mouth, confused. “I—”

“You’re loud,” he said suddenly. “You’re pretentious. You’re annoying—”

Your eyes widened, and you flinched.

“What—”

“You interrupt people all the time,” he continued, voice rising with something that wasn’t quite anger—something messier. “You talk too much. You never stop moving. You’re chaotic and stubborn and you don’t think things through—”

Tears were streaming down your face again, this time faster. You looked away, chest tightening.

But then his voice softened.

“...And you’re also caring. Kind. God, you’re the only person I know who goes to the store at four in the morning to feed stray cats in an alley every two days.”

You blinked. Slowly turned back to him.

Sunghoon exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re funny. You’re thoughtful. You remember the little things people say even when they forget they said them. Anyone would be lucky to be your friend… let alone always be with you.”

He looked at you then, eyes steady and full of something warm. Something aching.

“I’m lucky,” he said, quieter now. “I’m the luckiest bastard alive, as long as I get to stand next to you and call you my friend.”

You stared at him, heart pounding, lips parted, breath caught somewhere in your chest.

Because for the first time… it felt like he wasn’t just calling you a friend.

—

Maybe it was the crying. Maybe it was the emotional whiplash of the night—the heist, the heartbreak, the sudden unraveling of every thought you’d kept tucked neatly away. Maybe it was the way Sunghoon had looked at you when he said he was lucky.

But either way, you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

One moment you were sitting beside him, the warmth of his words still lingering in your chest like a quiet heartbeat. The next, the world had blurred softly at the edges, and your body gave out beneath the weight of it all.

So now, you were on his back.

He’d barely hesitated before lifting you, tucking your arms around his shoulders and hooking his arms under your knees. You didn’t even protest—you were too tired to argue, too comforted by the way he held you like he’d done it before.

Your cheek rested against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. You felt the steady rise and fall of his chest as he walked, the rhythmic sway of his steps, the subtle hum of a tune you didn’t recognize—but it was sweet, and low, and made your heartbeat slow down.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He just walked.

Past the quiet streets. Past flickering streetlamps. Past your favorite corner store and the alley you fed cats in and the bus stop where he first bought you coffee.

He didn’t complain about your weight. Didn’t tease. Didn’t say a word about the mascara smudged against the fabric of his coat.

You didn’t know if he knew you were still half-awake, but when he gently adjusted your leg, you heard him murmur so softly you almost missed it:

“You’re not stupid.”

Your heart ached.

And then you let sleep take you.

Because if there was ever a place to rest— It was here. On his back.

—

You woke up warm.

Too warm, actually. Wrapped in layers you didn’t remember putting on. The hoodie you had on last night clung loosely to your body, sleeves pushed halfway up your arms, and your slippers were neatly placed by the side of your bed—something you definitely hadn’t done.

You sat up slowly, blinking at the sunlight streaming through your curtains. Your room was quiet. Peaceful. And completely unfamiliar in the sense that… you had no idea how you got there.

You rubbed your eyes, your body aching in the most confusing way—like you’d run a marathon, cried through an entire movie, and fought off an emotional breakdown all at once. Oh. Right.

The heist. The yelling. The crying.

Sunghoon.

You swung your legs off the bed, still a little dazed, and padded out of your room.

That’s when you smelled it—eggs. Butter. Something slightly burnt, but in a way that made your chest tighten.

You turned the corner and froze.

Sunghoon was in your kitchen.

His hair was messier than usual, falling into his eyes as he stood in front of the stove, flipping something that might have once been a pancake. He was wearing the same hoodie from the night before, sleeves pushed up, a spatula in one hand, your mismatched cat-print apron tied haphazardly around his waist.

You blinked, brain short-circuiting. “What the hell…?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “You’re awake.”

“I…” You looked down at yourself. “How did I get home?”

“You passed out,” he said simply, turning back to the stove. “I carried you.”

You stared at him. “You carried me?”

“Like a princess,” he deadpanned. “Except you drooled on my shoulder.”

You gasped. “I did not.”

“You did.”

You groaned and dropped your head into your hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

He flipped another pancake—slightly more edible this time—and shrugged. “You needed the sleep.”

You looked up at him again, softer this time. “Why are you making breakfast?”

He didn’t look at you. “Felt like you could use something warm.”

You felt your throat tighten. You wanted to say something, but the words sat too heavy on your tongue. So instead, you just stood there in the doorway, watching him quietly.

And for the first time in what felt like weeks—you felt safe.

Breakfast passed in silence.

Not awkward, not heavy—just... silent. The kind of silence that settled like sunlight through the window, warm and gentle and unspoken.

You sat across from him at your little dining table, your knees brushing every so often beneath the wood, your plate mostly untouched. He ate like nothing was different, like he hadn’t carried you home last night, like he didn’t make pancakes in your kitchen while wearing your cat-print apron.

And yet, something had shifted.

You kept stealing glances at him in between tiny sips of orange juice. The way his lashes dipped as he focused on his food. The subtle curve of his mouth as he chewed. The way his hair curled just slightly at the ends when he didn’t style it.

Your heart fluttered.

Your stomach twisted—but not in the way it did when you were nervous or sad. This was... different. Lighter. Warmer.

What is this? you thought. This weird, floaty feeling in your chest. This little ache every time you looked at him.

Sunghoon glanced up, catching your gaze.

You quickly looked down at your plate.

He didn’t say anything for a moment—just reached for his cup, took a sip, then set it down with a quiet clink.

“Go take a shower and get dressed,” he said casually.

You blinked. “Huh?”

He leaned back in his chair. “You heard me.”

“But it’s Saturday. I don’t have any—”

“I’m taking you out.”

You stared at him. “Out? Like… out out?”

“Let’s go,” he said again, nonchalantly, like it was no big deal. Like he hadn’t just casually turned your whole world upside down with three words.

You opened your mouth, then closed it. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks.

“Oh,” you said. Quiet. Surprised.

Sunghoon stood and collected your plate like it was the most normal thing in the world. “I’m not giving you the plan. Just go shower.”

And then he walked off toward the sink, sleeves rolled, calm as ever.

You sat there for another ten seconds, frozen, heart racing.

What is this feeling?

And why did you suddenly never want it to stop?

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the hem of your yellow chiffon babydoll dress for the third time. It swayed lightly around your thighs, soft and airy, the color bright against your skin. You’d tied your hair into two loose pigtails, hoping it came off cute and not childish—just… soft. Sweet. Something that might look good next to him.

Sunghoon, with his wardrobe of tailored coats and muted sweaters. All clean lines and high-end simplicity. He never had to try, and he always looked perfect.

You hoped—just a little—that standing beside him, you wouldn’t look too out of place.

You took one last look in the mirror, then stepped out of your room.

He was sitting on your couch, one leg crossed over the other, scrolling casually through his phone like he hadn’t just changed your entire Saturday morning. He looked up when he heard your footsteps.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours.

Then back down to his phone.

No double-take. No compliment. Not even a blink.

“Let’s go,” he said, standing up with a stretch.

You stared at him, jaw tight. “Stupid idiot,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that?” he asked, turning toward you, brows raised.

You plastered on a fake smile so quickly it nearly hurt. “Nothing.”

He watched you for a beat, unreadable as always, then looked away.

“You look pretty,” he said softly—so quiet it was almost drowned out by the rustle of his coat sleeve as he reached for his keys.

You blinked.

But before you could respond, he was already walking toward the door, acting like he hadn’t said anything at all.

Typical Sunghoon.

Your heart fluttered anyway.

—

“Are we there yet?” you sighed for what had to be the fifteenth time.

Sunghoon didn’t look at you—just kept walking ahead with that maddeningly steady pace. “Almost,” he said.

“You said that two hours ago.”

“Mm.”

Just a hum. No explanation. No sympathy.

You followed anyway, flats sinking further into the mud with every step. You’d taken two buses, a ten-minute train ride, and now you were walking deep into a part of the park you didn’t recognize at all. Far from your neighborhood. Far from everything.

You glanced down at your shoes, now spotted with dirt and regret. This dress, the hair, the whole effort—you were starting to think it had all been a mistake.

Then Sunghoon’s pace suddenly picked up. His eyes lit up, focused on something just beyond the next turn.

“There,” he said softly.

And before you could ask what he meant, he reached for your hand—sudden, unthinking—and pulled you with him.

Your breath caught in your throat.

His hand was warm, firm around yours, fingers interlaced like it had always been that way.

You didn’t say a word. Just followed.

He led you past a line of trees, through tall grass, and down a narrow slope. Then finally—you saw it.

A small, glimmering pond hidden in a clearing. The water was still, mirror-like, catching the soft gold of the late afternoon sun. Willow trees bent low over the banks, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. Wildflowers bloomed in quiet clusters along the edge—lilac, yellow, soft blue—and dragonflies skimmed the water’s surface, their wings catching the light like tiny stained-glass windows. It was quiet. Peaceful. Untouched.

Like something out of a fairytale.

You stared, mouth slightly parted. “How’d you even—how’d you find this place?”

Sunghoon didn’t answer right away. He just stood beside you, still holding your hand loosely.

“When I was younger,” he said after a moment, voice softer than usual, “my family came here for a vacation. My sister and I snuck out one morning and found this by accident.”

You glanced over at him. He wasn’t looking at you—just at the water, like it still held something sacred.

“I used to take her here when she cried,” he continued, “whenever she got scolded by our mum. I don’t know... it always calmed her down.”

You smiled, quietly listening.

“Why’d you bring me here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He laughed under his breath, the sound light, almost shy.

“It’s silly,” he said, eyes still on the pond. “But last night, when you were crying…”

You looked at him then—really looked at him.

His expression was unreadable, caught between memory and now. He glanced at you finally, voice quieter.

“You reminded me of my childhood. Of her. You looked so… innocent.” He gave a faint, crooked smile. “And maybe I thought this place would cheer you up.”

Your chest ached in the most unexpected way.

Not from sadness. Not even from joy.

Just from the quiet knowing that someone had thought of you that deeply.

You looked down again at your joined hands.

Still holding. Still warm.

The two of you made your way closer to the water, weaving past the low-hanging branches until you found a flat patch of grass near the edge. You sat down carefully, smoothing the fabric of your dress beneath you, your feet dangling just above the still surface of the pond.

Sunghoon dropped beside you, resting his arms lazily on his knees, legs slightly apart, sneakers almost brushing the water. The breeze was cooler here, brushing your cheeks with the scent of wildflowers and grass. The only sounds were the rustle of leaves, the distant hum of cicadas, and the quiet ripples of the pond.

He didn’t speak.

Of course he didn’t.

You’d grown used to his silences. They weren’t cold, or distant—not really. They were just… Sunghoon. Thoughtful. Still. The kind of quiet that made you want to fill the space, not because it was empty, but because he made you feel safe enough to.

So you talked.

About everything. About nothing.

You told him about the weird dreams you’d been having lately, about the girl in your class who kept trying to copy your notes, about how you once tried to bake cookies for your primary school crush and forgot the sugar. You pointed out shapes in the clouds. Gave names to the dragonflies. Talked about the playlist you made for a fictional road trip you hadn’t taken yet.

And Sunghoon?

He just listened.

Not distracted. Not fake-listening like some people did, nodding along while their mind was elsewhere.

He listened with his whole body. Slight tilts of his head. The way he’d glance at you when he thought you weren’t looking. The quiet little hums when something made him laugh. The barely-there smile when you said something completely ridiculous.

You kicked your feet gently above the water.

“Sorry,” you said at some point, half-laughing. “I talk too much when you’re quiet.”

He shook his head slowly, still looking out over the pond. “I like it.”

You blinked. “You do?”

“You talk like you’re alive,” he said softly.

You turned to look at him.

His expression was unreadable, gaze fixed somewhere across the water. But his voice—his voice sounded like truth.

Your heart beat a little faster. You looked down at your hands in your lap, trying to will the blush away.

The two of you had been sitting there for a while now, feet dangling over the edge of the pond, sunlight dancing on the surface of the water. You’d done most of the talking—naturally—and Sunghoon had just sat beside you, quietly listening like always, eyes half-lidded from the warmth, arms resting lazily over his knees.

You were halfway through a very dramatic retelling of the vending machine incident from earlier in the week when something soft landed on your head.

You paused, blinking. “Did something just…?”

Before you could reach up to check, Sunghoon leaned in.

His hand came up slowly, fingertips brushing through your hair with careful precision. You stilled completely. He was close—closer than usual—and the moment stretched, your voice caught somewhere in your throat.

His face hovered just inches from yours, eyes focused as he plucked a single pink petal from your hair. The breeze tugged at your dress, your heart did a weird little somersault, and your brain short-circuited trying to process the proximity.

You barely dared to breathe. His breath brushed your cheek, warm and soft. He didn’t move away.

And somehow, your mind made the leap.

Oh my god. He’s going to kiss me.

Your heart leapt. You shut your eyes without thinking, every nerve in your body suddenly very, very aware of the shape of his mouth and the way your knees were touching.

But instead of a kiss, you got—

A throat clear.

You opened your eyes to find Sunghoon leaning back like nothing happened, examining the flower petal with the clinical interest of someone assessing a grocery receipt. Like he hadn’t just completely hijacked your central nervous system.

You blinked at him, heat flooding your face.

He glanced up, clearly fighting back a smirk. “Did you just—”

“No.” Your answer was immediate. Loud. Defensive.

“I didn’t even finish my senten—”

“Shut up.” You whirled on him, hands flying dramatically as the full force of your embarrassment took over. “You scooted so close to me, and you leaned in and, and I—I didn’t know what to expect, okay?!”

Sunghoon’s eyes sparkled, lips twitching. “I was taking a petal out of your hair.”

“You took your sweet time, that’s what you did,” you huffed, arms flailing now. “God, you and your–cold–cold boy exterior. I can’t read your face! You could be about to kiss me or about to tell me my card got declined, and I wouldn’t know the difference.”

He let out a soft laugh, the kind that made your chest ache a little. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Excuse me for assuming I was about to have a romantic moment by a magical pond with a boy who—”

He reached forward suddenly, both hands cupping your cheeks, and you froze mid-rant.

The world slowed.

His palms were warm. Gentle. Holding your face like you were made of something delicate. You couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.

Then his voice came, low and steady.

“Do you want me to?”

Your words died in your throat. Your heart thundered somewhere behind your ribs.

You stared at him, wide-eyed, unsure what to say.

He didn’t press. Just looked at you with that infuriating, calm expression—the kind that made it impossible to tell if he was teasing you or being completely serious.

And somehow, that only made you fall harder.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again.

“I—” you tried.

Sunghoon waited.

You panicked. “You took way too long with the petal.”

He laughed. This time, fully. And God, if your heart hadn’t already betrayed you, that laugh would've done it.

“Okay,” he said eventually, letting go of your cheeks like he hadn’t just gently cradled your entire soul.

You immediately buried your face in your hands.

You hated him. You adored him. You had no idea what this was.

But you kind of never wanted it to end.

—

The walk back was quiet.

Not the comfortable kind that usually settled between you and Sunghoon. This one was thick. Tense. A silence so loud it felt like it echoed.

You hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the pond.

He’d glanced at you a few times as you walked side by side, but you kept your gaze stubbornly forward, arms crossed, cheeks still warm from earlier. You couldn’t stop replaying the moment in your head—his hands on your face, that question, your silence, the way your heart had practically stopped beating altogether.

And now, here you were. Standing outside your apartment. Streetlights glowing gold above you. Crickets chirping. The air cool and still.

He hadn’t said anything either.

Not until now.

Sunghoon cleared his throat softly. “You’ve been quiet since the park.”

You let out a small, unbothered-sounding tch, keeping your eyes fixed on the sidewalk.

What a stupid question. He knew why.

You were embarrassed. Flustered. Emotionally compromised and desperately trying to hold it together. And he just stood there, calm and collected, as if he hadn’t casually almost kissed you and then walked away like it was nothing.

You turned toward him, fire rising again. “You—!”

You raised your hands, ready to start waving them mid-rant like you always did. But before a single word left your mouth, Sunghoon stepped forward and grabbed both your wrists gently, stopping them midair.

You blinked.

“What are you—?”

And then he leaned in.

Soft. Quick. Certain.

He pressed a kiss to your lips—just a brief, featherlight touch that made your breath catch and your thoughts scatter in all directions.

It was simple. Barely a second long. But it knocked the wind out of you.

“There,” he said, voice low and calm, as he pulled back.

You stared at him, completely frozen. Mouth slightly parted. Eyes wide.

“Y-You—” you stammered, hands still in his.

Sunghoon didn’t flinch. “You were being loud in your head. I could hear it.”

“I—That’s not—You don’t just—!”

He raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed. “Feel better now?”

Your heart was a mess. Your brain was fuzz. But still… you nodded.

He let go of your hands slowly, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary.

“Goodnight,” he said, and turned to walk away.

You stood there, stunned, watching him go. And somewhere between your heart trying to reboot and your hand brushing against your lips…

—-

The library was quiet, save for the occasional turning of pages and the distant hum of the printer.

You were trying to focus. Really, you were. But it was hard.

Not because of your thesis—which was enough of a monster on its own—but because of him. Sitting right next to you.

Sunghoon.

The boy who kissed you once. Who sent you home after and said nothing. The boy who still picked you up for class, still shared his earbuds, still split convenience store snacks with you like nothing had changed. And maybe it hadn’t. Not really.

You weren’t kissing everyday. You weren’t dating. There were no labels. Just… this strange, sweet in-between. And it was driving you insane.

You’d been hanging out every day, and yet neither of you had brought up the kiss. Not the one by the pond. Not the one on your doorstep.

You were somewhere between friends and more, and he seemed perfectly content to sit in that quiet space—while you were losing your mind wondering what it meant.

You were currently scanning the shelves, trying—and failing—to find a book for your thesis. You swore it was here. The catalogue said it was. But after combing through the aisle three times, you were ready to throw yourself into the return bin.

“Ugh,” you muttered, turning to scan the shelf one more time.

And then, like some book-finding angel, Sunghoon stepped beside you. He reached forward casually, plucked the exact book from the shelf above your head, and handed it to you without a word.

Your jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me?”

You snatched it from his hand, dramatic as ever, and turned to him with wild eyes.

“I’ve been here for twenty minutes! And you—!”

Your hands flew up instinctively, ready to gesticulate in full rant mode when—

He caught them.

Both of them.

Warm fingers wrapping around your wrists, stopping you mid-rant with that infuriatingly calm expression on his face.

And then he leaned in.

And kissed you.

Just like that.

Soft. Steady. No hesitation.

Your breath caught completely. Your brain shut off. The library, the thesis, the confusion—all of it disappeared under the pressure of his lips against yours.

It was over in seconds.

He pulled back like nothing happened, still holding your hands.

“Loud,” he said, voice low and amused.

And then—he let go and walked away.

You stood frozen in the aisle, mouth still parted in disbelief, the book clutched to your chest like it had personally witnessed a crime.

Your heart was pounding. Your face was burning. You were sure your soul had just left your body.

And once again… He didn’t look back.

Typical Sunghoon.

You were unwell.

Absolutely, fully, catastrophically unwell.

Because Sunghoon kissed you again.

In a library.

After handing you a book like it was the most normal thing in the world.

And when you raised your hands—to explain, to demand answers, to yell in three different emotional languages—he just… kissed you. Again. Calmly. Casually. And walked away like it hadn’t just restructured your entire brain.

You tried not to think about it. You really did.

But the moment you sat back down at the table, book open in front of you, and he slid a highlighter across the desk toward you like he hadn’t just emotionally detonated you—

You exploded.

“Okay,” you said, too loudly for a library. “What are we?”

He looked up from his notes, blinking once.

You leaned forward. “Because you kissed me. Twice. And you keep holding my face like I’m a traumatized woodland creature and then walking away before I can process anything.”

He tilted his head, resting his chin on his palm. “So you have been thinking about it.”

You sputtered. “Of course I’ve been thinking about it!”

Sunghoon nodded slowly, flipping to the next page of his notes.

You blinked at him. “Are you ignoring me?”

“I’m studying.”

“I’m spiraling.”

“Noted.”

Your hands flailed.

And just as you raised them again, fully prepared to unleash wave two of your emotional breakdown—

He stood up from his seat, leaned across the table, and kissed you. Right there. Again.

Quick. Soft. On the corner of your mouth this time.

You froze.

“I—” you squeaked.

“You were getting loud again,” he said, sitting back down like he hadn’t just completely ended your speech mid-sentence.

You gawked at him, face on fire. “You can’t just kiss me every time I get dramatic.”

“That’s what you think.”

You opened your mouth. He raised an eyebrow.

You closed it again.

He handed you your highlighter. “Let me know when you’re done with denial.”

You stared at him, heart pounding so hard you could hear it echoing in your skull. He was calm. Unbothered. Absolutely smug.

You hated him.

You wanted to kiss him again.

You highlighted the same sentence seven times just to avoid looking at his stupid perfect face.

—

You were walking home from the library with Sunghoon again. Just like always. Quiet sidewalk, golden streetlights, late-night hum of the city in the background.

Except nothing about it felt normal anymore.

Not after the kisses.

Not after the looks he kept giving you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Not after your brain had chewed itself into pieces trying to decode what you were to him.

And tonight—you were done pretending you were fine with it.

“I just think,” you said for what felt like the fifth time, voice rising as your steps quickened, “that if you’re gonna keep kissing me, then maybe—and this is wild—I deserve to know what it means!”

Sunghoon didn’t answer. He kept walking beside you, hands in his pockets, face unreadable. Infuriatingly calm.

“And if it doesn’t mean anything, that’s fine,” you added, already lying to yourself. “But then stop doing it! You can’t just weaponize your mouth to shut me up like some human mute button—”

He stopped walking.

You blinked, still mid-rant, too fired up to notice that he’d turned until his fingers wrapped around your wrist and tugged you back—swiftly, gently, deliberately—until your back hit the cold brick wall of the nearest building.

The shock of it knocked the words straight out of your mouth.

“Wha—”

And then he kissed you.

Hard.

No hesitation. No teasing.

His lips found yours in one clean, fluid motion, like he’d been waiting, burning, counting every second leading up to this moment. His hand pressed firmly against the wall beside your head, his body angled toward yours—not pushing, just close. Too close. Close enough that you felt the heat radiating off of him, the weight of everything he hadn’t said.

You didn’t even get the chance to breathe before his other hand slipped to your jaw, tilting your face up slightly—and then his mouth opened against yours, and his tongue slid in. Slow. Confident. Sure.

You gasped softly into him, your fingers gripping the front of his sweater like it was the only thing keeping you from collapsing. And God—he tasted like mint and quiet danger, like late nights and secrets he hadn’t told you yet.

He kissed you like he was trying to memorize your mouth.

Like he wanted you breathless and boneless and ruined in the best way.

And you let him.

You kissed him back like it had been building inside you too, like you’d been waiting for him to break first—waiting for this exact kind of dizzying, spine-melting surrender.

By the time he pulled back, you weren’t sure where you were anymore.

Your chest heaved. Your lips tingled. Your back was still pressed to the wall, legs weak, thoughts tangled.

Sunghoon didn’t move far—just enough to speak, his thumb still brushing softly along your cheek.

“You’re loud,” he murmured, his voice rougher than usual. “But not when you’re kissing me back.”

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even glare. Your eyes were still wide and unfocused. Your body felt like it had been struck by lightning wrapped in velvet.

And him?

He just took your hand again like nothing happened.

“Let’s go,” he said, like he hadn’t just absolutely wrecked you against a wall.

You followed.

Stunned. Silent.

And for the first time in your life— You understood exactly why he did that.

Because nothing had ever shut you up like that before.

—

The next morning, Sunghoon was already waiting outside your apartment by the time you stepped out, bleary-eyed and still emotionally unstable from the night before. He stood there with his usual sleepy calmness, one hand in his pocket, the other holding your usual coffee order.

Of course he knew you hadn’t slept.

He hadn’t either.

Because while you were lying awake replaying that kiss over and over again, so was he. He’d tried to read, tried to distract himself—but every time he closed his eyes, all he could feel was you against the wall. Your fingers in his sweater. The way your lips opened under his, soft and wanting. The sound you made when he bit down gently on your lip before pulling away.

He was in trouble.

You walked toward him slowly, eyes puffy, your hoodie a little crooked from sleep. You didn’t say anything—just snatched the coffee from his hand and took three aggressive gulps like it personally wronged you.

“Hmph,” you huffed, before storming three steps ahead of him like an angry little duck.

Sunghoon blinked.

Then he laughed.

God, he was so gone for you.

“Why are you mad?” he asked, catching up easily.

You didn’t look at him. “Because—because you won’t tell me what we are. You keep kissing me every time I get dramatic, and you don’t say anything after, and you won’t tell me if you even like me, and—”

“Don’t you like it when I kiss you, though?” he asked casually, like he wasn’t setting your entire nervous system on fire.

You stumbled. “I—! I—”

He looked far too smug. You hated how good he was at this.

“You can’t just say smug shit like that and make me not want to choke you—”

You didn’t finish. Because just like last time, he moved without warning.

In one sharp, fluid motion, he backed you into the nearest tree, the rough bark grazing your spine as your back hit it with a quiet thud. His hand slid around to the small of your back, pressing you against him, while the other gripped your waist and dragged slowly down to your hip, fingers curving around it possessively.

His mouth was on yours before you could speak. No hesitation this time.

His lips crashed into yours—hot, hungry, open. He tilted his head, deepening it fast, his hand tightening at your waist as he pulled you harder against him. Your gasp disappeared into his mouth.

His tongue slipped past your lips, slow and deliberate. He kissed like he knew exactly what he was doing—like he knew how to pull sound from your throat without a word. His body pinned yours to the tree, firm and steady, his hips brushing into yours just enough to make you lose your balance and grab his sweater for support.

He groaned lowly when you kissed him back, your fingers bunching at his chest, his thumb digging into your side as his mouth moved harder, needier, lips parting, tongue sliding deeper.

And then—he bit down on your bottom lip, just enough pressure to make your breath catch.

“You didn’t stop me,” he murmured, breath warm against your skin.

Your mouth opened. “Because—”

“Because you like it,” he said again, low and certain.

You glared at him. “And what if I do?! At least I’m being honest with my feelings.”

Sunghoon raised a brow. “Are you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Because you haven’t really told me anything about your feelings,” he said simply.

You threw your hands up. “Is it not clear?!”

You folded your arms, frustration bubbling up.

“Is it not clear that I clearly like you?!”

And just like that—he was silent.

Sunghoon had always been calm, collected, a little unreadable—but something in his expression faltered then. His cool cracked just a little, the tiniest stutter of surprise flickering across his face.

His heart was doing things he would never admit out loud.

Because no matter how smooth he could be, no matter how many times he kissed you like he knew exactly what he was doing—you were the only one who could completely unravel him.

He looked at you, smiling softly.

“Look under your cup.”

You frowned. “What?”

“The cup,” he said. “Turn it over.”

You squinted at him suspiciously, lifting the cup over your head like it owed you answers. And there—scrawled in slightly smudged black marker under the base—was one word, just barely legible in his messy handwriting:

GIRLFRIEND?

Your breath hitched.

Your arms dropped.

You stared at it, then at him.

He stood there with his usual hands-in-pockets posture, pretending to be all calm and collected—but you saw it. The way his ears were just a little too red. The faint twitch of his mouth like he was holding his breath.

You blinked. “You wrote it… on the bottom of a coffee cup?”

“I thought it was romantic,” he said, completely deadpan.

You raised a brow. “You know people usually use, like, their mouths to say these things, right?”

“I figured this way, you’d actually read it instead of yelling over it.”

You paused.

Touche.

“You truly are a man of few words.”

He shrugged. “You use enough for both of us.”

You rolled your eyes—but your grin gave you away.

And then, quietly, you held the cup closer to your chest.

“…Yes,” you muttered.

His lips twitched. “You’re supposed to say it louder.”

You glared. “Don’t push your luck, loverboy.”

He smiled, wide this time. “Too late.”

Before you could react, his hands wrapped around your waist—confident, steady—and he pulled you in all at once. You let out a small yelp, half laugh, arms instinctively catching onto his shoulders as he swept you closer like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And then he kissed you.

His lips pressed into yours like he already knew you’d say yes, like your quiet little “yes” had unlocked something in him. There was no teasing this time, no smirk hiding behind it—just him, kissing you like he meant it.

His grip tightened around your waist, grounding you against him, your body flush to his as his other hand came up to cradle the side of your neck, his thumb brushing just below your ear. You melted into him without a thought, your fingers curling around the back of his sweater, trying to pull him even closer.

You could feel his heartbeat, fast but steady, pressed right against yours.

When he finally pulled back, just barely, his lips hovered over yours—still close enough to steal another breath.

“I’ve been waiting to do that properly,” he whispered, voice low and warm.

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